Once Again


It was insufferably hot.. sultry, the humidity choking the lifeless air that had stilled on the planet. No clouds in the sky offered some protection, they too had been banished by the sun's dominant rays. Worst of all, there was no breeze. Everything was deadly still, steadily cooking from the heat, nearly incandescent. The landscape rippled, it seemed, unusually bright.. glaring at anything and everything.

It was hell for him, though. He ambled aimlessly, fatigued to a near bursting extreme, but he was too stubborn to lay down. He would not give in to the dull ache throughout his entire body, pulling his seemingly lead-filled legs along mechanically, forcing them to work. His clothes were torn.. and he did not know why. He had no idea where he was at. He had no idea who he was. All he knew was that he had waken up in the accursed heat with answerless questions. He was wounded, and covered with dried blood.. how did that happen? Why this random location? Why were his memories so fuzzy.. why did he lack in them? Most importantly... what was his name? The questions pounded fiercely in his skull, becoming a large headache. The only thing he could do was ignore it.. and that was a challenge unto itself.

The heat was only making his situation worse. Somewhere in the back of his mind the words "shelter" and "water" had popped up. In spite of his lethargy, he had pulled himself to his feet and started off. He was still incredibly dizzy, and it seemed someone was constantly beating his head with a mallet. He gingerly touched the tender spot on his head. The wound had closed, but his hair was caked with reddish-brown gunk.. his blood. It had trailed down his face.. he could smell it. But he did nothing to remove it. He was parched, his throat painfully dry.. and he did not sweat anymore. He had stopped sweating over an hour ago.

'I.. I'll be dehydrated at this rate.. what the hell am I saying, I AM dehydrated.... maybe I'm in the wilderness.. where there's nothing..' This thought caused a hoarse chuckle to escape his thin lips. 'I'll die then. I'll die a nameless man..'

That alone was enough to make him want to stop and collapse to the ground below. Yes, that would be nice. The ground was his friend, he could lay down, shut his eyes and sleep.. let his pains vanish. That did not work, and he found that he was quite irate with himself. He would not die without a fight! This was only a little sunshine, he could easily defeat it!

'But I need water..' He thought to himself, and he stumbled. His black boots were charred, half their soles missing, torn horridly. The rocks below smashed against his feet painfully, but he was so numb at the moment that it did not bother him the slightest.

'Find water.' Thus, the fight ended.

So he continued on, absentmindedly pulling up on the dirty, bloody remains of what had been a white jacket. He knew that he should keep his clothes on in the heat to help survival, but he did not know how he knew. He was too tired to fight himself on that.. but the turtleneck had to go. He stopped long enough to carefully take off his jacket, wincing at the feel of cloth against the cuts and scrapes along his arms, back, and chest. The black turtleneck was unacceptable, and was gladly tossed away. Bright blue eyes shut momentarily, and he wheezed for breath. The sun now beat on his bare upper torso, lean, but muscular.. lacerated by an unknown enemy.

'Can't stop now. Gotta find water.. and shelter. Have to get out of the sun.. put on your jacket.'

His body was being lazy.. it did not want to follow his commands. Cursing, he akwardly thrust his arm into the sleeve. Suddenly alert, he was able to pull it back on.

'Now, move.'

His feet jerked into action, and he nearly fell over from the motion, but caught himself. The ground seemed to bend and sway under his feet. This was a bad sign.. or was it light playing tricks on him? He decided to ignore it, and concentrated on his goals. The barren land around him spoke bluntly of it's lack of shelter and water, but either that did not click with him or he was too determined to let that bother him. Filthy hair fell into his eyes. Red, filthy hair, crusted with blood and unknown debris, was blinked at profusely with the near glowing blue eyes. If there was enough water, he would bathe. He would be able to find out what he looked like.. and that pleased and sickened him. Not only was he nameless.. he was faceless. Finding out what color his hair was had surprised him.. what else would he find?

Green grass.. straight ahead. That struck him funny, but he only cock his head to the side. So.. this area slowly became a more fertile landmass? Which means.. water? He wanted to run, but he could not summon the energy, he was too weak, wounded and physically exhausted. Legs covered by rags, splattered with blood, moved on, acute pain shooting up from his ankles, the sibling of the repeating throb of open cuts and scrapes, cousin to the stinging that occured when the aforementioned wounds were exposed to the heat and light. Soon his feet met grass.. and he wished he could cry. Water had to be around somewhere.. and water equaled survival. His survival.. a small smile curved his lips. He liked the sound of that.

The grass was just as scaldingly hot as the former area.. but it screamed "life!" and that overjoyed him. He found himself moving a little faster, which was surprising, since his movements were clumsy and jerky because of the condition of his body. Also, his flesh was pink. An awful pink.. and it felt like he was frying from the inside as well as the outside. It hit him then... he had sunburn. He let out a weak sigh.

'I'll be the first human burned into a crispy critter..' A weary head shook slowly, hanging low.

Shaky legs pulled unwilling feet along, and a not too wet tongue licked dry, chapped lips. He had to find something.. he had to. The sun was not overhead anymore.. it was somewhat cooler, but not too much. Step after step.. minute after minute. Nothing but grass.. and grass.. and grass. Things started to swerve, and black spots danced before his eyes. He grew even more dizzy with every step, and the black dots grew larger and stayed longer...

Finally, his legs gave out on him.. and he crashed down onto the soft grass. A moan escaped him, tiny and pitiful, barely audible. He could not feel his legs, but that did not matter. It did not hurt so much anymore, he could close his eyes, and let the heat take him right then.. all he had to do was close his eyes. He was no warrior.. he could not fight for his life. With his remaining strength, he shut his eyes, letting darkness consume him eagerly, and greedily.



--



"--rink... "

'...what..?'

"Wat--"

He moaned, and did not hear the small gasp from nowhere, nor flinched when a sudden cold liquid splashed on his dry, hot cheek. Pleasure hit him. Never had anything felt so good.. and who was that calling out to him? He could not make out any of the words being spoken, and his eyes refused to open. But he did open his cotton-dry mouth, his torn lips painfully spreading apart, trying to ask for the cool liquid, but his voice would not work. It seemed his vocal chords were made of yarn, incredibly thin yarn, useless yarn.. broken yarn. A bit of the ice cold liquid dripped onto his mouth. The person above him had settled a soft wet cloth on his face.

"--lo? Are ... --ay? C-- ... --der--nd me?" Everything was becoming slightly more clear, but he still could not comprehend the dramatic change of events. The voice was female, that much he could get. Desperately, he tried to speak, but a stab of acute pain streaked through his throat, and he was forced to abort his attempt.
"D-- ... ant-water?" The voice was heavenly soft, smooth and sweet as honey, and patient. Very calm, very dear, as if it was a mother speaking to her child. This soothed the jumbled, chaotic thoughts swimming in his semi-concious state of being. He relaxed a bit, letting out something like a rasped, choked sigh.

'Water? Oh yes, I want water, please, give me water..'

"--rink..."

The blessed water coursed through his lips. He paniced for a moment at the instant relief, and forgot to swallow. The water spurted from his lips, and dribbled down his chin. Something wiped it away. The compress on his face was growing warm. It went away, and he tried to protest, but was too weak to do so. A moment later the cloth returned, colder and wetter than it had been. The water came again. This time, he forced himself to swallow. It hurt, but the water made his body tingle. What happened to his body? He did not feel the sun beating on him, but he could not feel his body either. Why did his eyes remained closed? Who was the woman who was taking care of him?

"--est. M-- ... water?"

'Oh yes.. please..'

He eagerly drank from the glass being pressed against his lips, not caring that some of it was spilling, only worried about getting it into his weak body. Abruptly the glass was pulled away, and the compress moved over his face again. Once more, he tried to say something, but even the fresh, crisp, cold water could not talk his vocal chords into working.

"Do-- ... talk. Res--"

What was the angel saying? He could only understand her a little bit.. and it disturbed him. He had been rescued.. by who? Where had he been taken? Too confused to bother, he let his head fall to the side, once more drifting into complete darkness.

'Please.. don't let me die yet..'

"Oh.."

"Vivian, it's alright. He'll be drifting in and out of conciousness for a while, he's in bad shape."

She nodded, and put the wet cloth away. Wide, jewel-like gray eyes watched over the bandaged man asleep in her small bed. Vivian had found him outside of town not too long ago, and had brought him to her home. To think, Rufus ShinRa was still alive...

'And I'm nursing him,' the meek thought entered her head. 'Once he's well.. well.. I don't know what'll happen..'

Strands of pale ash-blonde danced over her shoulder as she leaned over the injured ShinRa president. Absentmindedly, she pushed it behind her ear, since it was too short to put back into the rest of her loose braid. Vivian glanced over the red tinted gauze wrapped around the upper body of the figure in her bed. The twenty-three year old was beautifully handsome, she had to admit, with his striking strawberry blonde hair falling onto his flawless pale face. Of course, the face was a horrid tint of pinkish-red from being exposed to the sun for god knows how long, his thin yet seductive lips brutally raped of their smooth, soft texture, chapped and raw.. but otherwise unmarred. His body was an utter masterpiece, from what she saw, seeming to be molded from the Hands of God, each muscle perfectly shaped and proportioned, lean but powerful, not a trace of hair nor scar on the god-flesh. Vivian's face turned a brilliant shade of crimson at the random thought of his nether hair being as red as the hair on his head.

Scolding herself for behaving childishly, she concentrated on changing the blood soaked banadages on his arm. Vivian was only two years younger than the former president of ShinRa Inc., but looked even younger because of her build. While Rufus was an average height, she barely hit five feet five inches, and being petite, she had a delicate bone structure. It gave her a willowlike appearance, being naturally slim and fit, though tiny. Often she was mistaken for a sixteen year old, which can be flattering and annoying all at once. Vivian was not concerned about that in the moment. She had a sick man to take care of, and even though he was the heartless man who had ruled over everything with great fear, he was still a person in need. Not even she could have said no to the near dead person in the middle of the heat wave, injured, burned, and alone.

"Rufus ShinRa.. the world had proclaimed you dead. It's been a month since your office was attacked.. Meteor is gone.. what happened to you?" She whispered.. and of course, got no answer.

Shaking her head, she double checked the wounds, and tenderly rubbed salve onto his burned skin. A sigh escaped from the man's lips, though meek and horribly raspy. Vivian smiled in spite of it all. At least he would rest easier. Once his fever subsided, he would be able to stay concious longer and more aware of his surroundings and situation. She would be able to tell him he was in Kalm, and anything else he wished to know. Surely he had a lot of explaining to do..

'But it's the former president.. he probably won't be very happy at all when he's able to realize everything.. but it's not like he can punish me for being helpful. ShinRa has fallen. He's an ordinary man now. Do you understand, Rufus ShinRa? You're just like me and everyone else now. Good luck on trying to survive.. I'll do the best I can to help you.. if you want it, that is.'

For three straight weeks Rufus ShinRa drifted in and out of conciousness, and every time he did awake, Vivian had been by his side. He had been able to open his eyes a few times, but his vision was unfocused, images blurred into fuzzy blotches that confused him. Yet he heard her voice. Ah.. that beautiful voice.. always talking to him so tenderly, washing over his aching body and torn mind, a blanket of warmth and comfort. He longed to see her face, his angel. He wanted to know her name. As time went by, Rufus regained his strength, his feeble voice coming out with more clarity every passing day. 'Angel' called him Rufus, and he wanted to know why. She had not told him her name, so in his mind, she was Angel. Surely, she was from Heaven, he concluded, perhaps even his guardian angel. It seemed he was always in a state of breakdown unless she was by his side. Only Vivian could calm him whenever he was troubled.

And she found herself in trouble. This supposedly soul-less man that laid broken in her bed.. the words he spoke softly to her, were always full of gratitude and sweet compliments. Vivian could see no trace of the fearless man that had once ruled over them all in the man before her. It confused her, and questions nagged her, begging to be spilled onto him. She bit her tongue, knowing he was still not fully recovered, not ready for such an assault. He was coming along well, able to sit up some when she fed him, hold a glass in his hands, and speak.. whenever he was concious. Luckily, the wounds Rufus had suffered never caught any infections, healing well, scars faint and barely noticible. Sunburned flesh darkened, and started to peel, revealing the new skin hiding beneath it. She worried about the trama he had recieved to his head; since he told her he could not see anything clearly, and had not improved with time. The injury was slowly patching up, and he complained of brutal headaches, often losing sleep because of the pain they gave him. Vivan did all she could to ease his discomfort, but feared he might never regain his eyesight. A month had past now, Rufus was able to sleep and wake normally, unless plagued by his occasional headaches, engaging in warm, simple conversation. He asked for food, water.. and most of the time, chatted gaily with his rescuer.

"What is your name?" He had asked her as soon as he could, pulling himself up to sit in the bed. Though his brilliant blue eyes were wide opened, he had to squint at her, making the smeared picture he saw resemble some shapes. Her form wavered as he tried to look over her, and to his dismay, he could not focus on the details of her face.. they all ran together.

"I'm Vivian.. Vivian Oren, sir." She whispered.

Rufus' head cocked to the side cutely, his lovely red hair brushing over his forehead gently.

"Sir?" He let out a laugh, lighthearted and soft. "I'm no man of importance, I don't need that. You though.. you're my Saviour.. my Angel. I owe you my life, Miss Oren. I don't know how I can repay you, but I'll think of something." Rufus turned his hands, palms upward, a gesture that expressed the truth behind his words. "I.. I don't remember a lot. I.. woke up, and didn't know.. who I am.. or where I was. I.. still don't know.. and I need help. Please.. I'll do anything, if you'll help me.."

Those words slowly sunk into Vivian's mind, blinking at the man before her. Rufus ShinRa, former President of ShinRa Inc., not only an ordinary man, but one who had lost his memories? She paused, speechless at his humble cry for assistance. He was sincere! The haunting gaze of his eyes on hers was the only thing she needed.. and something strange trembled within her heart. How could she not resist? It seemed Rufus had been given another chance at life.. and had been put into her hands.

"Well.. I.. you.. um.." Vivian swallowed, and instantly felt stupid, stuttering like a child.
"Miss Oren--"
"Vivian, please.." The man paused, and then nodded. A beaming smile crossed his face, a dimple setting into his left cheek.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"...sure.." She replied meekly.
"...why do you call me Rufus?"

Another pause. Of course.. he had no identity now. But.. should she tell him the truth.. or let himself figure it out? What would happen if he regained his memories? What was she supposed to do, lie to a man who lost his memories, who would regain them (possibly) and use her lie against her? Or.. tell him the truth, let the townspeople possibly badger him, and let him be miserable, and never discover the truth? Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening with a muffled squeak, and the sound of her mother's voice wafting into the room.

"Vivian, you've a guest." The middle-aged woman paused. "Ah, Rufus, you look well. How do you feel?"
"I.. I feel alright." He answered politely, squinting his eyes toward Mrs. Oren. "How are you?"
"I'm fine. Would you like anything?"
"No madam, I'm fine."

Meanwhile, Vivian slipped downstairs. She stretched, appreciating the chance to, though she hated to leave Rufus, walking into the small living room toward the front of her home. His back was turned to her, but she knew who it was the instant she laid eyes on him. Gabriel Shirou. He was her age, a beautiful man with a cherub face that hid what really boiled within his mind. Dark violet eyes were framed by long, flowing locks of lusterous storm-gray hair, his face slightly narrow and angled sharply to define his cheeks, chin and nose. Gabriel was a tall individual, standing at a lean but well muscled six foot three inches. His limbs were graceful, however, he was not dainty, always standing in a regal manner with his nose in the hair. As normal, he was dressed in his black suit, in spite of the heat wave.

"....Gabriel," Vivian stiffly offered. "...what a surprise."
"Vivian, spare me," He retorted calmly, his raspy voice deep and slightly monotone.
"Fine. What do you want?" She spit back, putting her hands on her hips. "You're nothing but trouble."
"No.. he is nothing but trouble." That caused her to soften her pose, blinking.
"What..?"

He turned to her then, a faint smirk tugging at his full, pouty lips. Casually, he lit a cigarette, inhaling the smoke before letting it escape through his nostrils. Vivian's face twisted in disgust. Bastard.. he did that on purpose.. knowing how much she disliked smokers. A cold glint seemed to reflect from the depth of his blank eyes, which made her shiver. She hated the way he looked at her.

"Well, what do you want??" She snapped again, crossing her arms in attempt to hide her nervousness.
"You're keeping him here, aren't you? The rumors spread like wild fire.. Rufus ShinRa.. in Kalm."
"...what about it..?" Vivian muttered, her knuckles turning white as she dug her nails into her skin.
"Oh.. nothing.." Gabriel chuckled, the cigarette dangling carelessly from his lips.
"Liar!"
"Ah, that hurts.." He grabbed his heart. "Vivian--"
"Spare me. Tell me what you want, or get out!" His eyebrows raised slightly.
"Fiesty, aren't we? I touched a sore spot, perhaps...?"
"Get out. Get out!" Furious with her treatment, she pointed an angry finger toward the door. "And stay out!"
"..." His boots softly walked toward the door. "...very well. I found out what I wanted to know."
"Gabriel Shirou, get out!" This time, she grabbed a pillow and chucked it at him, barely missing his head.
"....I'll see you later, Vivian." With that, he left her, closing the door behind him gently.

For some reason, she felt that something was brewing within that evil man, certainly concerning her and the man in her room. That alone dampened her skin with a cold sweat.. and left her mouth cotton dry.

"Vivian..."

"Mother, why did you let him in here?" The young woman sighed, letting herself fall back into the old recliner chair nearby. She forced herself not to think of that beautiful devil, her spine tingling still from her shuddering. Her mother stepped into the room hesitantly, wrigging her apron with clamly, shaking hands. Vivian didn't look at her mother, only hiding her face with her hands, taking in a deep breath. "If anything, you should've--"

"We're in his debt!" She cried, her meek voice wavering. "You know that, Vivian Oren. If.. if he hadn't had helped us.."

"Oh.. mother.." Her hands moved away, looking up at the gentle woman who was widowed not too long ago. "I.. I know.. but we've paid back every penny for father's funeral.. I made sure of that.. we.. we don't owe him anything!"
"But.. but he isn't satisfied.. we have to satisfy him. Vivian, he may be from Wutai, but he's from a well to do family--"
"I refuse to marry him!" Vivan stood up, looking at her mother desperately. "I won't. He can't have me."
"Oh please, Vivian.. it's already out that we're keeping Rufus ShinRa here.. who knows what the people are saying.."
"Since when did we care about what other people thought..?" She replied weakly. "You taught me to help out those in need, mother.."
"If only your father was alive! He'd know what to do! Oh, Areit, why.. why..."
"Mother!"

The older woman collapsed to the floor, and was instantly met by her daughter. Sobs broke from the widow, and Vivian did the best she could to console her mother, whispering soft words of comfort, rocking her gently. She did not see Rufus peek into the room, clinging onto the doorway for support.

"Ang--Vivian.. are you alright? Mrs. Oren?" He gasped, forcing his legs to stand. "I heard shouting.."
"Rufus.. what are you doing out of bed? You're still too weak!" Vivian protested
. "I.. I had to help.." The young man gave her a boyish smile. "After all, you're ladies--"
"We're fine," She butted in. "Please.. let me get mother some tea. And sit down.. your legs



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