Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 7
Long Distance Melody
There goes the downpour.
and there goes my fare thee well.
"It's her, isn't it Tseng?"
Tseng blinked and turned toward his employer, feeling distracted and vaguely reminiscent. After dramatically saving one Rufus Shinra from an unfitting end it almost seemed surreal, this sudden spring shower. It stood to reason that Tseng would be a little out of sorts, as inexplicably out of character that was for the seasoned Turk.
"Pardon, sir?" But even as he got the words out, he noticed the point behind Rufus' words. The marks once marring the pale flesh of their president's hand had vanished. Months of research, testing, and unfavorable results that amounted to nothing. No hope and an ending in sight but now?
The rational part of Tseng's mind found it hard to believe, mental cogs turning as he shut out the awed voices of his Turks. He knew who Rufus was speaking of even without anything more than a simple pronoun. Aerith Gainsborough. It fit her modus operandi perfectly, but it couldn't be. The girl was long gone. She was bound for better things - for places that they had greedily sought. Actions that led to her death. She was gone.
Then again, after what they had just seen...
Rational thought had been thrown out of the window time and again.
"The self-proclaimed flower girl from the slums. You of all people should know." Something halfway between genuine thankfulness and a sly smirk spread across the face of the cloaked man.
"I don't follow. Sir?" Elena was standing ramrod straight as always; professional. Despite that, confusion was clearly evident in her eyes and she looked, searchingly from Rufus to Tseng.
But there was no answer from either of them. Reno shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting for some response from Tseng, but obviously itching to give his own explanation. "They got a history, Tseng and the Ancient. Way back before your time. They were like friends. Rude remembers, right Rude?"
Rude nodded.
"I have no right to be known as that, in relation to her." Tseng glanced Reno's way with something of a bitter look, then turned his gaze skward. It made no logical sense, but it had to be her. The aura was so familiar and when he closed his eyes he could almost see her smile. Tseng had never liked standing in the rain, but there - under that downpour it almost felt comforting to his battle wearied body. The rivulets that clung to his suit and ran down the side of his face felt almost like her embrace.
The air smelled of stargazer lilies.
Tseng smiled slightly. Aerith had always liked the rain. It nurtured her flowers and washed away sin and impurities. Everything after a rainstorm felt new and exciting. New hope and new beginnings. And she had always been a healer at heart. He could remember her once speaking of a technique she had yet to perfect. Something that promised to be truly remarkable.
"This is most certainly Aerith Gainsborough. Without a doubt."
He could stand in that rain forever. Though his hair clung to his face in clumps and his shoes filled with water, he felt content. She was there once again almost as if she were alive, if but for a moment. It felt like the old days, back before things got more serious. Before they fell out of touch.
He breathed in deep, the floral dew scent, and felt forgiven. If he strained hard enough and listened to the droplets hitting solid earth, he could almost hear her lilting voice telling him so.
New hope and new beginnings.
That was her Great Gospel.
There goes the downpour.
and there goes my fare thee well.
"It's her, isn't it Tseng?"
Tseng blinked and turned toward his employer, feeling distracted and vaguely reminiscent. After dramatically saving one Rufus Shinra from an unfitting end it almost seemed surreal, this sudden spring shower. It stood to reason that Tseng would be a little out of sorts, as inexplicably out of character that was for the seasoned Turk.
"Pardon, sir?" But even as he got the words out, he noticed the point behind Rufus' words. The marks once marring the pale flesh of their president's hand had vanished. Months of research, testing, and unfavorable results that amounted to nothing. No hope and an ending in sight but now?
The rational part of Tseng's mind found it hard to believe, mental cogs turning as he shut out the awed voices of his Turks. He knew who Rufus was speaking of even without anything more than a simple pronoun. Aerith Gainsborough. It fit her modus operandi perfectly, but it couldn't be. The girl was long gone. She was bound for better things - for places that they had greedily sought. Actions that led to her death. She was gone.
Then again, after what they had just seen...
Rational thought had been thrown out of the window time and again.
"The self-proclaimed flower girl from the slums. You of all people should know." Something halfway between genuine thankfulness and a sly smirk spread across the face of the cloaked man.
"I don't follow. Sir?" Elena was standing ramrod straight as always; professional. Despite that, confusion was clearly evident in her eyes and she looked, searchingly from Rufus to Tseng.
But there was no answer from either of them. Reno shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting for some response from Tseng, but obviously itching to give his own explanation. "They got a history, Tseng and the Ancient. Way back before your time. They were like friends. Rude remembers, right Rude?"
Rude nodded.
"I have no right to be known as that, in relation to her." Tseng glanced Reno's way with something of a bitter look, then turned his gaze skward. It made no logical sense, but it had to be her. The aura was so familiar and when he closed his eyes he could almost see her smile. Tseng had never liked standing in the rain, but there - under that downpour it almost felt comforting to his battle wearied body. The rivulets that clung to his suit and ran down the side of his face felt almost like her embrace.
The air smelled of stargazer lilies.
Tseng smiled slightly. Aerith had always liked the rain. It nurtured her flowers and washed away sin and impurities. Everything after a rainstorm felt new and exciting. New hope and new beginnings. And she had always been a healer at heart. He could remember her once speaking of a technique she had yet to perfect. Something that promised to be truly remarkable.
"This is most certainly Aerith Gainsborough. Without a doubt."
He could stand in that rain forever. Though his hair clung to his face in clumps and his shoes filled with water, he felt content. She was there once again almost as if she were alive, if but for a moment. It felt like the old days, back before things got more serious. Before they fell out of touch.
He breathed in deep, the floral dew scent, and felt forgiven. If he strained hard enough and listened to the droplets hitting solid earth, he could almost hear her lilting voice telling him so.
New hope and new beginnings.
That was her Great Gospel.
Sign up to rate and review this story