Unexpected

Disclaimer: don’t own anything


Chapter 1: Meeting

It was raining hard and every once in a while, a few mute cracks of lightening would break flat against the night sky. From his window, he could also see the dark forest below, not far from the town.

Bed sheets rustled from behind him but he didn’t turn to look. He was a little lost in the sentiment of being where he was, in a quiet town that showed the quietest storms he’d ever known in a long time. Across the room, past reworked wood plank, the fireplace cracked, reminding him that he was in fact still alive. Warm and alive.

“Baby, come to bed,” a soft voice said. He couldn’t remember when Rinoa first used the endearment but if he didn’t find himself scowling, he didn’t care. There was a small silence before two slim hands placed themselves at his shoulder and began rubbing to reassure. A pair of pretty brown eyes hidden behind black bangs appeared from behind his left shoulder. “Come to bed, alright,” Rinoa said as she rested the side of her face against his back and pressed the rest of her body to it, too, when she dropped her arms from his shoulders to encircle them ad hid his waist.

He slightly turned to acknowledge her, smiling half-heartedly, before he fully turned around and simply held her as they stood by the window. A tiny little fist was suddenly tugging at his pant leg and he looked down to find a smaller version of himself, the mop of brown hair unmistakable anywhere, although his son was really the only other expected body around.

“‘quall, mommy said I can sleep with you.” Huge blue eyes stared up at him, worried he might say otherwise. His son clung onto his leg—the small chubby little arms just had a secure enough hold on him.

He smiled and let go of Rinoa to bend down and pick up Leon. “Well, if she said that then I guess it’s okay.” He watched his four year old son, used to the calm that had finally settled after he’d gotten over his fatherly role.

“‘quall, why are you going away?” Leon stared at him while pulling on his white t-shirt.

He didn’t understand and wanted to answer but Rinoa cut in. “Now I already told you, honey. Your father’s not going anywhere, okay? He’s right here,” she curled her fingers around one his arms and gently pulled herself closer to his side as she held her gaze with Leon to get the understanding across.

But he was curious at Leon’s words. “What are you talking about, Leon?”

Leon’s still expression suddenly crinkled as he frowned, deep, and huge tears formed to squeeze out at the automatic tendency to close his eyes; he began sobbing like his father had already gone.

He tried to make eye contact with Leon, dipping his head to peek under the boys messy bangs. “Leon. Stop crying and tell me what’s wrong. What happened?”

“He—” Rinoa said, but he stopped her.

“I want Leon to tell me,” he looked at her before turning his attention back to the boy. “Leon? Tell me what’s wrong, okay? I’ll make it all better. I promise.” He patted Leon’s hair.

Leon stopped crying, smooshing sloppily at his eyes and nose, and returned his father’s gaze, sniffling. “I dreamed that a big bad man came and took you away, and I…” He sniffled again. “..yelled and yelled but you didn’t—bad ‘quall!” Leon hit him in the chest. “You didn’t come back! And—and mommy was crying and crying and—”

“That’s enough, Leon,” Rinoa finally said. “I think you need to go to bed.” She took Leon from him. “Squall, come to bed soon, okay?” She kissed him on the cheek and made for their bed by the fireplace, taking an exhausted Leon with her.

It’d been close to five years since he’d first met Rinoa, now his wife…his life. He had no reason for complaint. He loved her and she gave him a son, as haunting as it was that his son looked nearly identical to pictures he’d seen of himself as a child.

But those days were history and he never found himself worrying that he might me alone again…. He sighed. He had to admit Leon’s fit was a tad disturbing at the most. He couldn’t imagine and didn’t want to imagine what would happen if anything Leon had described did become a reality…. He quietly laughed at himself.

So I’ve become this weak.

The thought frightened him, no doubt.

Abruptly, someone was pounding, downstairs, at their door. “Open up! Please help! Someone!” As quickly as the cry came, though, it disappeared.

Nonetheless, he was determined to find out what was so bad that someone had to pound on a stranger’s door in the middle of the night.

“Squall,” Rinoa said. “What’s—”

“Stay here and keep Leon close. I’ll check it out.”

Of all nights for anything to happen, he had to be a little shaken by his own son. “Dammit,” he cursed under his breath as he pulled on a pair of black jeans and quickly decided haste nor caution would hurt. He rushed to the closet. He opened the closet door, pulled at a black leather case from a hidden top shelf, slammed the case to the base of the closet, opened it, and retrieved Lionheart. The blade was still sky blue as ever, never having lost any of the magic that was natural to its glorious body, and he ended up staring at it past necessary.

I hope this isn’t anything. It’s been too long.

“Be careful Squall,” Rinoa said from the bed as she hugged Leon to her chest.

He nodded, feeling as if he was back at garden again, leading an army of mercenaries to triumph or their doom.

“‘quall, what’s that?” Leon suddenly asked, his eyes wide and curious at Lionheart.

“Take care of your mother, okay?” he said before he flinched inwardly; he’d have never lingered past the request but the grey implication had already stamped a claim at his conscience.

“‘quall?”

For some reason, he suddenly found it too difficult to look at neither Rinoa nor Leon. He rushed to the stair top and quickly descended to fly past the living and kitchen area to the front door. The pounding had long since stopped but he peeked out the viewing glass anyway before he wore his boots, unlocked the door, and swung it open to stare out at dark and rainy space.

~<>~

“Ha..ha..ha…” she breathed hard, her breath coming out in too white of puffs as she desperately attempted catching her breath, leaning against the side of the house. She didn’t know where she’d run to, but she did know she had to hide—to get away from the fiends that tried raping her. She’d awoken in some filthy bandit hideout in the forest nearby and had fortunately found escape to see that civilization was closer than she’d hoped for.

Past the hard pattering of the rain, she realized she wasn’t alone. Someone else was running around in the rain; perhaps the mob of heathens had decided against any brains they had that bringing crime into the town wasn’t a risk. “Of course,” she scoffed.

Eyeing the way the slopping footsteps came from, she looked to the front of the house again, making sure to hide her already thin and frail body in the darkest possible shadows. She saw a blue glow intensifying as it gained ground in her direction. “It can’t possibly be one of them can it?” she whispered to herself, some part of her hoping she might have jinxed her pursuers’ luck to find her, but the light was only growing.

“Who’s there? Show yourself,” someone said. The voice sounded male.

She hastily wondered what to do. It could’ve been one of them or… She chose to run.

~<>~

He thought he heard someone speak, though it could’ve just been the rain. He had no idea where the person could have run off to, but what instincts he had told him that something was fishy by the side of the house. “Who’s there? Show yourself.” As expected Lionheart was ready on the go.

Before he knew it something leapt from the shadows though not towards him, but he chased after it anyway, past a neighbor’s yard and into another one. Easily, the escapee was much slower and he took the advantage to jump on him…or her.

The meat beneath his forearm was definitely too soft…and plump…for a man’s chest, and the face…. As his focus shifted, he thought he was staring at a water nymph. She was in fact very beautiful, even more than Rinoa—his wife—he somehow felt the need to remind himself, though he mentally rolled his eyes for his absurd self-doubt. Her long slender nose and wide curvy lips didn’t compare to her eyes, however, and he was caught in them—green like that of deep stone emerald—although it was only for the briefest of a second.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she pleaded as Lionheart hovered just above her throat, still illuminating her beauty. “I’ll give you anything—all the money you want. Just don’t hurt me, please.”

“Who are you?” he finally found his voice to speak. “Why are you lurking around out here—who sent you?!”

“I-I’m not! I’m trying to get away from those men in the forest. They tried to rape me!”

He took a moment to judge before he got off of the woman although he never offered a hand to help her up, and the woman had obviously expected it when she didn’t look and habitually swiped her hand at air where there should’ve been a helping hand. She fell right back, stupidly, and slammed her hands against the runny mud beneath her, exasperated. She shoved her short and neatly trimmed soaked hair out her face and glared at Squall. “You’re just as disgusting as those animals!” she bit out.

“Get up. They could still be around,” he spoke evenly. He couldn’t allow any time for bickering if what the woman said was true; they needed to move.

“Well I would if you’d have helped me!”

Finally, he offered a hand and pulled the woman to her feet.

The woman didn’t grant a thank you but was clearly irritated that he could have at least given more emotion. “Rude man,” she mumbled.

“This way.” He began walking, unquestionably, to the town hall. He wouldn’t risk taking the strange woman back to his home where it would indefinitely endanger his family.

“Aren’t you even going to ask me for my name?” she queried after they walked for a while.

“No.”

“Well now I know for certain you’re just about the rudest man I’ve ever met!”

“….”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Shut up.”

“Ugh.”

She was dressed in all black, a tight-fitting outfit that served to show all her curves and assets, even in the dark, though it wasn’t as if he was paying attention. In fact, he was more interested in what appeared to be multitudes of straps and all their variations abounding the outfit. Of course, she was walking ahead of him, pretending to know where she was headed.

“What aru stu staring at, sick man?”

“I have a wife.”

For an instant the woman stopped and squarely turned his way, actually stumping him. “…what?”

She smiled wide and said, “My name is Kera. Nice to meet you,” she bowed before pivoting back to continue.

He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.


End1