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Him

Yuffie Kisaragi

Materia Thief
A homemade story that's undergone several versions and edits over the last four years. I always love to have and see more criticism for it, so here it comes:


Him

“See there? That’s Orion’s Belt.”


“Yes, I know where Orion’s Belt is.”


“Just figured I’d mention it.” Because you couldn’t figure out anything else to say? Sometimes I’d swear he was the most awkward person on the planet. I took my eyes off the night sky for a second to glance at him. His dark eyes were still affixed to the stars, scanning the sky for more recognizable constellations. He was clearly affixed on this topic, despite the fact that I had little interest. I shook my head, nearly exasperated by this stubbornness. If he wanted to impress me, he should have chosen a different topic.


“Didya know the Greeks had a constellation that was only one star?” I didn’t respond at first, choosing to wait to see if he had anything more to say. Sometimes he’d go on and on and on. “Maybe it was the Romans actually.”


“Primarily it was the Greeks who named all the constellations and created the myths to go along with them. The Romans merely adopted and made a few slight changes.”


“Oh.” Now he was looking stupid. Normally, I’d get a little joy from correcting someone, but that time was different. Maybe it was that soft little “oh”, or the fact that he himself was rarely wrong. In any case, I remember feeling a twinge of guilt. I feel a bit more than a twinge now. I glanced back at him. He had switched from standing up to lying in the cool sand. The light of the dying fire reflected in his glasses, and if I had studied them a little while longer, I probably could have seen my reflection too. He turned to smile at me, and I deflected it by turning before I blushed or did some other girly, impulsive thing. Wait, why would I blush? I didn’t like him. Not then, and not now. Too clumsy, too tall, too broad, too sarcastic, too... I am running out of negative words. He was too much of a follower. Always with others, following them, joining them. Leading a pack didn't really seem to be in his nature. Sometimes he would seem really desperate. Looking for a friend, for attention, for someone to notice, for someone to love. But he wasn't ready to give up his personality for the attention he so desired. I suppose that obstinence could be considered a good quality. Or a bad one. I am still undecided after all this time.


"You're headed for St. Joseph's right?" His voice called me back to the present, away from analyzing every facet of his personality.


"Yeah." I replied, stuffing my hands deep into my pockets. I kept my eyes away from him, pointed towards anything else. The infinite ocean, my nearby car, the withering fire. The fire… that was what really engrossed me. The flames like wolves feasting upon an elegant deer, slowly eating the few charred logs left.


"Well, have a... do well there." More awkwardness. His attempts at small talk were almost adorably hopeless. Almost. I remember wondering what was going on in his mind right now, thinking about his perspective of the situation. I took a trip in his shoes, the way I do so often now in attempts to fully understand why he did what he did, and how I helped. He was looking at my slim back, laying on the frigid sand, listening to the consistent waves crash against the beach, and of course, trying and failing to hold an intelligent conversation with me. I became tired of standing, and sat. The sand moved slightly to accommodate my body. Apparently, my sitting nearby encouraged him to reattempt conversation once more. "Nice moon out at least. Really bright, washes out all the stars around it. Detracts from the horror movie setting."


"Not by much. Still feels like Texas Chainsaw Massacre Two could break out at any moment." My bland, uninterested tone should've given him pause, but he was on a roll now.


"Could be far worse. Could be Friday the Thirteenth."


“But it's the fourth, which is an unlucky number in Japan."


"Good thing we're not in Japan then, or a sharknado probably would've already snapped us up." He continued, in a sharp and exaggeratedly goofy tone. I attempted to stifle a giggle. I didn’t do so well. I couldn't help it. Sharknado. The stupidest premise for a movie ever. I snuck a look at him. He was sporting the biggest grin I'd ever seen. Clearly, my finally cracking at one of his stupid references made him happy.


"You are an idiot sometimes. I hope you realize that." I retorted, hoping a well-placed insult would end this ridiculous dance of him and I. Looking back, it wasn’t really well-placed at all. It sounded too teasing, like a joke between friends. Maybe if it had been better things would have stopped there, before it got worse.


"But a charming one." I remember his reply really irritated me. I attempted again to halt conversation.


"Rather unpleasant honestly."


"Honest?" His tone was jovial and he was bearing a characteristic smile, like he was enjoying this. Maybe he was. Now that I am looking back on it, this was one of very few actually engaging banters we ever had.


"Honest." I tried to sound as serious as possible. I made an “x” over my heart like a young kid swearing.


"I think you're lying." His voice said, tone indicating certainty.


"And why is that?" I really was curious what made him think I didn't absolutely detest him. I had given him no reason to think I might be interested in him at all, yet he would not stop trying to talk, to change my opinion of him. I wish it had worked.


"Because otherwise, you wouldn't still be talking to me." He said triumphantly. Darn. He really did know me. I never interact with people I hate. I didn't respond, which practically guaranteed that he had gotten it right. I may not have “like” liked him, but he was nice enough to have around on certain occasions. So, I didn’t absolutely hate him. Even I could confess that. I tried to focus on my surroundings opposed to my rapidly beating heart, enjoying the warm fire, the starry sky, the moonlit beach, the unending sea. I heard him shuffle around after a four and a half beat tone. Then he stood up. "I gotta get going."


"Okay." I refused to look at him. I didn't like him. I really didn't, and looking back might give him the impression that I did. While I was busy not looking at him, I could hear his heavy footfalls grow distant. Then, abruptly, they stopped.


"Hey!" He called back. I couldn't help it. I looked back. Maybe it was something important. Maybe it was something that would be worthwhile, that would end what we had been doing for so long. "You're beautiful and don't let anyone tell you different!" I turned back around immediately. I had been wrong to hope for something like that. Instead, he just shot another flirtatious comment at me. I didn't “like” like him. Not. At. All. Silence would make sure that was clear. I began to hear footsteps again, gradually growing quieter. Then I couldn't hear them any longer. That would be the last time I enjoyed his presence, listening to his footfalls go over the dunes. The fire spat out a few last sparks as I kicked sand over it. With it now extinguished, I opened the door to my car, and began to drive away.


~ ~


It's the fourth. Late. The stars are out, constellations clear, and it's a nice bright moon. I take a shot. I take a deep breath. All around me, girls are being flirted with. Some good looking guys had tried me, but I shut them down quickly. Not even close to being in the mood tonight. Tonight's the ten year anniversary. Ten years since he had killed himself.


And there it is! Thanks for reading, hope it was to your liking!
 

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