The cool breeze tugged playfully at his hair, carrying the fresh scent of rain. It had rained the before, multiple times earlier in the week as well, a consequence of being in Wutai during the wet season.
Rain was as much the enemy as the country’s warriors were. Both could come out of nowhere and surprise someone. But, then again, many things could do that. He’d be 21 already this year, wouldn’t he?
He sat, making multiple curlicues in the dirt, hugging his knees to his chest with his spare arm. The cliff he was on overlooked the whole area of Wutai, his enemy. It’s not as if he chose his own enemies, ShinRa decided everything for him it seemed.
-/ You’re letting them take advantage of you. /-
/ I know. /
-/ Who knows how they’ll use you next. /-
Sephiroth flinched, not wanting to think about the implications of the Voice’s last statement. It was true though. But there was no way he’d let anyone touch him that way again, let alone rape him. He was weak back then, he couldn’t refuse, but he’d be able to fight it now, wouldn’t he?
-/ You’re still weak. /-
/ Just a puppet of the company. /
-/ Exactly. /-
He shifted uncomfortably. Now sitting cross-legged, he fumbled in his pockets. It didn’t take long before he found a small rectangle of white paper.
Was it wrong to want such a thing?
Holding the paper between his lips, he pulled the glove off of his left hand, the tattoo of the number one stood out, a constant reminder of who he really was, another scar on his being. He drew a small knife from its concealed sheath on his upper thigh. Slowly, he slid the blade across his index finger until a trail of blood led from his fingertip to almost his palm. Before taking the paper from his mouth, he put his knife away again, and held the paper in his hand as he wrote in bright crimson letters.
After he finished, he held the edge of his paper in his mouth again as he pulled his glove back on. The sky had begun to cloud over again. He stood, preparing to leave, taking the note from his mouth and tossing it into the air as he turned toward camp.
Was it wrong to ask for such a thing?
As he started walking back, thick, cool raindrops started to fall. One drop struck the blood on the paper, making it streak across the letters.
/ Kill me. /
End.
A/N: Was going to be a Zack X Seph at first, but this came out instead. If you wish to know what this is, ask the demons in my head, for I haven’t the foggiest. Though, this /does/ take place during the Wutai War, and Seph hears that weird voice…
I’m sorry, but my thoughts are rather incoherent.
First draft- 2005/7/27
I apologize for any grammatical/spelling errors, as I am currently my own beta reader, and my only other help is MS Word’s spelling and grammar check.
