AUTHORS INCOHERENT NOTES
Okay, this is going to be a weird one. You remember my idea about Yazoo being sick? If you've read any of the "Holding my thoughts inside"-novels, you would. If you haven't – read them! Anyhow, he has a problem with his lungs, right? With the shortness of breath and the coughing and the oh BLOOD in his spit. Right. Then. My vision of the brothers is that they are all but evil, just trying to do their thing. Alright. Then… what if a certain building was on fire? I wrote it in a kind of weird way. To try to describe the stess. Not sure if it worked.
ASHES AND GHOSTS
Yazoo heard the screams blocks away. He would have ignored them. He SHOULD have ignored them. He had more important things to do. But they were so desperate. So full of pain and agony that he could not possibly walk by. He knew already from the smell of smoke that the building was on fire. A small gathering stood around the large wooden house, trying desperately to put out the raging flames with what small tools they had, small buckets and a old house. They never stood a chance. The fire laughed at the humans puny attempt to take away it's power and might.
An old woman grabbed Yazoos arm, causing him to flinch in surprise at this uncommon touch. He was very uncomfortable with other people then his brothers touching him. A side-affect of a childhood spent as a lab-rat. The woman didn't notice though. She looked up at Yazoo – her smoke-stained red eyes meeting his feline with nothing but a plea.
"The children" she cried, sobbing "The children are tapped! They can't get out. Oh please gods have mercy. The children!"
A man came up to the woman and unhooked her hand from Yazoos sleeve, giving him an apologizing look. He took the woman into his arms and she turned around and buried her face in his shoulders and wept.
"The children" she sobbed "They can't move. Can't move"
"Why can't they move?" Yazoo quietly asked the man.
"Their all sick" the man answered "Bedridden"
It landed like a punch. Yazoo knew. He heard no screams from the children trapped inside. They were too weak to even scream. He watched the peoples futile attempts to get into the house or suffocate the flames. He knew. He knew what it felt like. To look death in the eye and know you could get away if just your lungs would be able to fill enough for that one scream. Or that you could run away – away to safety, if just for legs would bear your weight. He knew the pain of being denied air.
A girl came running. Her hair was dark and her eyes huge with fear.
"Denzel!" she cried out "Sarah!"
Yazoo stopped her.
"How many are in there? Do you know?"
She looked up at him with eyes too deep for a girl her age. Even though they were filled with tears, they appeared mature.
"Denzel" she sobbed "And Sarah. And Benjamin"
He shouldn't have done it. He had so many other things to do. But he did it anyway. He pushed the people out of the way, and with an inhuman jump, the landed on the lower roof . He smashed a window open with his bare hand. Smoke and flames poured out, trying to keep him from entering. He covered his mouth with one masked hand, ignored the heat and stepped inside what used to be a hallway. Now it was as if one corridor of Lucifer's palace had broken loose and reappeared in an orphanage in Midgar. Three doors. One open. Two closed. Even over the roaring of the fire did his improved hearing pick up the faint sound of breathing behind one door. He kicked it in without hesitating. The flames had only reached the door of this room. Yazoo searched the room quickly, the smoke staining his eyes and lungs. A closet. He opened the slide-door, to find a blond boy, about 4 years old, tightly hugging a stuffed rabbit. Obviously, the child had manage to drag himself out of bed and into the closet. Yazoo found a small blue t-shirt in the closet, he put it over the child's mouth and picked him up. Quickly and hunched down to avoid the smoke, he headed back for the window in the hallway. He stepped out on the roof, not putting the child down to avoid the shards of glass that were scattered all around. His lungs filled with air for the first time in 40 seconds. Time seemed to move so slowly, yet it was fast running out. He suffocated a coughing-spasm.
"Not now. Not NOW!" He thought.
A man ran up and cached the boy as Yazoo carefully dropped him down from the roof. He could hear the little girls relieved voice as she cried out : "Benjamin!" then he went back in.
The open door. He ran into it. Paused in the door. Awful. The flames had yet to reach the body, but the girl had suffocated. Shards of glass were scattered all over the room and had pierced the small body. She bled from several wounds of different sizes The window had exploded – sending pieces of burning hot glass flying over the room.. Judging from the position of the body - it had not occurred before death. The sheets were twisted, the body looked as if it had tried to escape the bulging window. Not much he could do. He still picked her up, covered her small bloody body with the sheet so that the other children wouldn't see. He also picked up a half-melted doll that nested in the sheets. It's golden-blonde hair was only tangled of blood in one place.
Out the window. Hand the body to the man. Whisper "the girl". Try to breath. A cough. "Not NOW!" Regain control. Get inside. One more. Just one. In the window. The last door, the furthest away from the fire which was coming up the stairs. Burst inside the room.
A bed. Some toys. Several crayon drawings. A boy on the bed. Still conscious. His tired eyes shifted too Yazoo as he advanced on the bed. His eyes were blue. Deep. He tried to lift his arms up to Yazoo but he didn't have the strength.
"I'll die now, right?" The boy almost smiled.
Yazoo shook his head. Where did the boy get the air to talk? Yazoo couldn't breath. He picked up the child. He felt. Heavy. Strange.
A huge brawl as the fire claimed another victory. The floor in the hallway was gone. Fire shot up in it's place. Could he jump the distance? No other way out. Jumped. Almost missed. One hand on the collapsing facade. Got out. Air. Jumped again. Landed on the ground. Safe.
Yazoo put the boy on the ground, people immediately crowded around the small body. The girl cried "Denzel! Denzel!" Yazoo tried his to breath. But no air would fill his lungs. He coughed, kneeling on the ground supporting himself with his hands. Coughed and coughed. A worried voice. Then several. Someone called "Get some water!" another shouted "That's the guy! He saved the kids!" Hand on his body, trying to help.
"Let go. Don't touch me. Let go" No air to form the words. Claustrophobia. A female voice: "Step aside! Step aside! Give him some air!"
The hands released his body. Thank gods. He fell. Rested his face against the mako-warm soil. No air. A shadow kneeled beside him. The female voice "Oh dear gods…". A blurry face, blue eyes. Terrified.
Darkness.
Tifa looked into that all to familiar face and those all to familiar eyes.
"Oh dear Gods…" she whispered.
Then the silver-haired mans eyes fell shut.
Yeah, eh, I was almost planning to kill Yazoo, but I feel a nice story brewing here. Please review and tell me what you think. A second chapter? Yes? No? Thanks for reading!
Music listened to during the making of this fic:
Ivy – Worry about you
Melissa Williamson – You're not here
Akira Yamaota – Promise
True
Overdose delusion
Laura
And yes, I completely stole the title "Ashes and Ghosts" from a Akira Yamaota song!