Fic: Fragile
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I profit nothing, I mean offense to nothing.
Title: Fragile
Pairing: RenoRude friendship! AU
Prompt: Draw With Me. Link to the vid is in my ff.net profile.
Author: mitsuruaki
Why?: Because the_sexypancake insisted I post more pronto. XD
Words: 4,373
Rating: PG-13. But be wary of unintentional, minor self-inflicted violence.
He’d been alone for quite a while now.
He was content to sit here in silence, on his own, not really waiting for someone or something but just…existing. There was safety here; high walls he had built up over time that were both intended and unintentional, and invisible to the untrained eye. More than one, of course- since when was one of anything adequate protection? They were difficult to detect, but if you tilted your head and narrowed your eyes and really looked for them, they sat in staggered rows for maximum defense that blurred out anything beyond a certain distance.
He wasn’t even sure what was on the other side of them, really. Not anymore.
People had visited him before, or attempted to, at least. They deserved some sort of credit for trying, he supposed. It wasn’t their fault he simply wasn’t interested in them. He could see them far off or several walls away every once in a while, fuzzy shapes plainly puzzled or frustrated or resigned at their inability to get through to him, but he felt no urge to do anything other than observe them.
And then He showed up.
He was standing there one day outside that last wall; black and white clothes that would have been formal if he’d bothered with ironing or wearing them properly. His dark red hair was thrown back into a narrow ponytail as though someone had given him a haircut with a dull pair of kitchen shears, given up about nine-tenths of the way through, and decided the sole option left was to tie the leftovers together. A pair of goggles rested over his forehead without serving any apparent productive purpose other than to present the idea that he did use them at some point, for some reason. Hands on his hips, the man stared with deep perplexity at that last towering, transparent wall before shockingly pale blue eyes, which were somehow one of the most vivid hues he’d ever seen, snapped onto him.
No one had ever come this close in ages, so close that he could unmistakably see a solid, clear-cut outline through the glass, sharply defined features, bright colors even through his sunglasses. Staring seemed to be the only appropriate response to that realization.
The man gave him a sideways grin with a tilt of the head and gestured at the wall with one hand, his mouth moving to form words that went unheard.
How strange. Someone was actually trying to communicate with him. Taking a few steps forward, he shook his head, eyeing the other man with restrained curiosity. The walls were completely soundproof, but the other man didn’t seem to know that.
Giving him an odd look, the redhead spoke again, his voice undoubtedly louder and the pronunciation ridiculously exaggerated.
Shaking his head a second time and pointing to his ear appeared to get the message across as his new visitor scowled at the barrier, raising a fist to tap cautiously at the glass. A frown crossed the new face, throwing the red curves tattooed around the outsides of his eyes into stark relief. He watched the redhead retreat a few steps to crane his head back to look up at the impossible height and expanse of the glass. Exasperation crossed delicate facial features before those blue eyes met his own again.
The man mimed writing on a piece of paper, watching him with raised eyebrows for an answer.
He nodded, and then paused. Had the man been asking if he could write, or if he had something to write with?
The answer came when the newcomer reached into a pocket and pulled out what looked to be two pens of some sort. Glancing up at the wall again, the other man jogged a short distance away, stopped to evaluate the trajectory, reared back, and launched one of the pens in his direction.
Miraculously, the object sailed clear over the barrier and landed with a clatter only a few feet away. He stared at it.
A knock on the glass pulled his attention back to the redheaded man and the message now staining the barricade in front of him, some of the initial letters scribbled out.
Pick it up, yo.
Blinking at the craziness of it all, he moved to retrieve the newly arrived item and examined it as he readjusted his glasses on his nose. It was a marker of some kind without a label, although removing the cap revealed black ink. He turned back to the wall, frowning at the redhead who was busy writing another note.
I’m Reno. What’s your name?
Hesitantly, he lifted the marker to respond, moving slowly, startled at the sight of his own handwriting scrawling itself on the glass.
Rude.
The redhead’s face brightened in a laugh, his eyes darting up to look at Rude’s expression.
Is that Roo-d?
No. It’s Roo-day.
Reno’s face lit up in understanding as he replied back. So Roo-day. What are you doing here?
Rude looked into blue eyes, feeling his brow furrow at the question. I AM here.
The redhead’s face dissolved into confusion, staring at him blankly. You ARE here?
Yes.
Okay…do you like it here?
…I don’t understand. I AM here. There is nowhere else.
Reno smiled at him and shrugged, but it seemed more of a sad smile that didn’t reach his eyes, not a real one. Can you draw? I’ve heard a pic's worth a 1000 words, yo.
Could he draw? Rude eyed the glass, already covered with a fair amount of words. Decently.
The redhead just smirked and let his marker glide against the glass.
Time wore on and they moved along the wall, leaving a trail of words, diagrams, and drawings in their wake. Some of them were amazingly crude pictures, depicting things that made Rude’s eye twitch as he scribbled dark patches over them on his side of the glass to block them from view, which just made Reno crack up into fits of laughter at his efforts. Reno was there every day before Rude, always ready with a new comment and a mischievous grin.
And then one day he showed up with bandages around his knuckles.
Rude frowned at the white cloth carefully wrapped around the other man’s hands, his forehead wrinkling as he leaned forward to take a closer look at them.
Don’t worry about it, yo. No big deal, Reno wrote, shrugging at the skeptical look Rude gave him. Doesn’t hurt or nothin’.
What did you do?
The redhead surveyed him for several long moments, his light eyes hooded and secretive. I told you. Nothin’, yo.
Rude stared back at him, knowing Reno wasn’t telling the truth but not entirely sure why he would lie to him. One didn’t get bandaged knuckles by doing nothing.
Okay, fine. I’ll show you. The redhead whipped out his marker and started illustrating his story, which Rude immediately realized was a load of bull, full of alcohol, crude situations, and more nudity than a tall tale had any right to have.
Rude rolled his eyes behind his tinted lenses and went back to the beginning, patiently blacking out the entire storyline. Reno started cackling through his inaudible protests, drawing faster to keep the other man from catching him, his eyes twinkling as Rude sped up in an effort to match his speed. Reno eventually faltered when his hand began shaking from too much laughter to hold the marker steady. Instead, he wrapped one arm around his stomach and used the other to prop himself up, his fingers and palm spreading flat against the transparent barrier while his eyes teared up in mirth.
For the first time, Rude briefly wished he could hear another person’s laughter.
Tentatively, he switched the marker to his left hand and raised his right to the wall, settling his palm over the redhead’s and taking note of how even though Reno’s fingers were slightly longer, his own hand was still a little larger.
Reno’s head tilted up to see what he was doing, noticing Rude’s lack of movement, his eyes inevitably drawn to their mirrored hands. He straightened up slowly, pressing his hand hard against the glass. His gaze darted up to meet Rude’s, any trace of amusement wiped from his expression. Quietly, Rude watched their hands and Reno stared at Rude, both of them feeling as though the glass were miles thick, rather than a mere inch.
Maybe…maybe it wasn’t such a good thing to keep himself locked in here, Rude thought, observing the flickering longing and loneliness in the redhead’s face.
The next two times Reno showed up, the amount of bandages had increased and he could barely bend his fingers to hold the marker. The pain was noticeable in his expression, but he stubbornly refused to write what had happened, simply regressing into childish glaring, doodling, and otherwise ignoring any inquiries associated with the subject.
Rude crossed his arms and glared back at him. Why not?
Reno narrowed his eyes at the words. Because.
I just want to know.
Well I don’t want to share, yo. So there.
Reno.
The redhead just gave him a ‘what?’ look, his eyes determinedly lowered to his primitive picture where he was bashing someone with what looked like a long stick. What do you care, man?
Rude watched the marker move for a few seconds, before writing, I want to understand.
Reno stopped to stare at his reply, his eyes rising to meet Rude’s. Understand what?
What you did.
Why?
Why do I want to understand what you did?
Reno nodded, vibrantly colored hair following the action with delayed timing, his eyes intently focused on the other man’s hand.
What was he supposed to write now? Reno seemed to looking for a specific answer, or a codeword of some sort. Was there some universal response he was supposed to reply with? Rude looked back over their conversation, trying and failing to find the hidden meaning in the ink. Perhaps he was making this more complicated than it had to be. Maybe Reno just wanted an honest answer.
Because I want to understand you.
Reno’s expression blanked out as he took in the message, blinking a couple times and swallowing forcefully. He gnawed at his lower lip as he critically scrutinized the glass, his features hardening and a mulish determination stealing into his eyes.
Rude kept an eye on him with growing concern, even more so when the determination morphed into something resembling resentment and an escalating, frustrated ire. But he would have been lying if he claimed he wasn’t the least bit surprised when the redhead pulled back a fist and began beating on the glass. Stumbling away from the now quivering wall, alarmed, Rude watched Reno fight a fiery but losing battle against the see-through barrier.
Panic welled inside him, prompting a paralysis of his limbs as he was torn between staying put and attempting to convince Reno to stop. What if Reno succeeded at getting through the glass? Did he want him to break through the glass? Instinct said no, he did not want change, did not want anyone else here.
The glass shook until Rude could hear the vibrations, the first of any sound he’d heard in eons. It grew spidery cracks and threatened to cave, but in the end did no such thing, simply leaving Reno completely drained and exhausted.
Head bowed, long sparse bangs not quite obscuring the hurt and fragile sorrow in pale blue eyes, Reno didn’t bother to hide the effect his failure had on him. And understanding suddenly clicked together in Rude’s mind at where Reno’s bandages were coming from. This was not the first time Reno had valiantly lost a war against this wall; it was simply the first time he’d done so in front of Rude.
Reno dragged a fist down the transparent surface and rested his forehead against the glass, his face twisted up in discouraged, self-directed fury as he caught his breath. He didn’t look up as the wall erased all signs of his struggle: the cracks sealed themselves as though they had never existed, indentations reversed to once again fill out their original space, and left behind a pristine, unmarred wall.
Why did you do that? Rude asked finally, his heart feeling heavy in a way he didn’t fully understand.
The redhead pushed away from the barrier when Rude tapped his marker against the glass, searching out the new words with tired eyes. Because…I want to be on that side.
Here?
Reno nodded, more of an acknowledging blink of the eyes than anything else.
But there’s nothing on this side that you don’t already have over there.
The redhead stared at him, faint disbelief tinting the look as his gaze flickered from the written words to Rude’s face. You’re on that side, yo.
Rude paused and weighed his options as both of them carefully surveyed the other’s face. Reno had already tried to break through, with dismal results. But Rude was the one in charge of this place and he knew that; this was his fortress, his home, his sanctuary. He liked being here alone and unbothered by the world. But lately…he’d been getting restless.
It had been impossible to desire venturing beyond these walls when there had obviously been nothing there to see, but things weren’t the same anymore. Reno was there. And Reno wanted the person behind the glass bad enough to beat himself up for it.
And more than that, for the first time…he wanted, maybe, to let someone through. If he still could. Was he even capable of that, anymore? These walls were supposed to keep people out, were inflexible for a reason. What if Reno turned out to be different than what he’d seen so far? Was it easier to just keep someone out than to let them in and have to throw them out later, if that was even possible? Probably.
Could he afford to give Reno the benefit of the doubt?
Rude looked back at their writing surface over the top of his sunglasses, taking note of the seemingly endless miles of written thoughts, drawings, and stories, painstakingly shared over an indefinite but extensive period of time. Glanced at the marker in his hand, Reno’s last sentence, the now-rumpled bandages wrapped around newly-bleeding knuckles and long fingers. If Reno had made it this far, fought this hard, stayed this long, Rude at least owed it to him to try.
The redhead was wincing, in the process of lifting his writing tool to elaborate on his last comment, when Rude’s fist crashed into the glass. Reno’s eyes widened as he leapt back, his mouth shaping the sound of what was undoubtedly a curse of some kind, as Rude hit the barrier one, two, three times. Reno was back in an instant, shaking his head and yelling something most likely with the intent of discouraging him, attempting to catch his attention.
Rude ignored the sharp, throbbing pain in his knuckles when they connected with the clear surface once again, also ignoring the way Reno shook his wrapped hands at him angrily to convey the only results he would probably achieve; it wasn’t just anger, there was worry there too.
But the glass was giving under his assault; he could feel it weakening under the onslaught, so if he just used a little more force…
With a crack like a gunshot, his hand left a splintering impression in the wall that stopped Reno mid-sentence. His eyes met the redhead’s, seeing the uncertain hope igniting there, not unlike his own, as the other man quickly retreated out of range of any potential harm. One last strong hit let his fist smash through what was left of the glass, leaving a decent-sized jagged hole around his arm.
Reno’s face was wide-eyed with breathless shock and incredulity, the beginnings of an awed smile shaping his mouth. A bandaged hand tentatively reached out towards an uncurling fist the redhead would finally be able to touch and feel, not just see and watch, and briefly, just for a second, those had to be Reno’s fingers brushing against his-
And then everything went wrong.
Before Rude could even register what was happening, the world started moving in reverse. The glass arcing for the ground abruptly halted and zipped back towards the wall without any regard for his shirt sleeves or skin, brutally slicing past as pieces headed back to their proper places. His fingers spasmed in surprise at the multitude of stinging sensations, the shards cutting and shredding his hand and arm as their speed increased, snapping back into the barrier. It happened so quickly, all at once, that even when his reflex reaction for self-preservation kicked in, he almost didn’t yank his arm back fast enough to keep from losing the whole limb. The wall re-sealed itself without a single scratch, a small amount of blood smeared on the glass.
He could truthfully say that he’d never been in this much agony in his life, his tattered arm cradled to his chest while it bled all over the floor, his shoes, his pants, and what was left of his shirt. Reno banged insistently on the transparent divider but Rude didn’t look up, completely stunned at what had just occurred, and what had happened to his arm?
Ripping off the remains of his outer jacket and wrapping it around what was left of his trembling, damaged limb, a numbed mystification overwhelmed his thoughts. He wasn’t even in charge of his own protection, anymore. Those walls…they weren’t listening to him. He no longer had control over any of this, not at all, and his arm. When had this happened? How could he have let this happen...?
He didn’t remember fading out but he must have at some point, because now he was sitting with his arm wrapped in a sling, staring at the wall, the pain muted to a dull ache. Reno was crouched in front of him on the other side of the glass, panic and fear in his expression as he caught Rude’s gaze.
Are you okay, yo?
That was a rather stupid question, in Rude’s opinion. Rude gave him a pointed look and struggled to write clearly with a clumsy left hand. No.
Reno sighed and settled down on the floor. What the hell happened, man?
I don’t know.
But…but you got through.
Rude didn’t say anything in response, his hand running over the uneven cloth of the bandages.
Reno stuck his tongue in his cheek, his face screwed up in thought. He heaved a pouty-looking sigh. Maybe…this is going to have to be enough for now, yo.
‘For now’…there wasn’t going to be another try, Rude thought, watching Reno. There was no way he was going through that again.
The redhead covered all available space with his untidy scrawl since the other man didn’t write as often anymore. Rude hated seeing the handwriting of his left hand looking as though a fifth grader had written it while suffering a sneeze attack. But he liked reading Reno’s stories, real or otherwise. The man had a lot to say and not a lot of people to say it to, apparently, because he didn’t seem to be visiting anyone else. They kept Rude occupied and occasionally amused as his hand slowly, gradually, healed on its own.
Each time he removed some of the wrap, little by little, he flexed his arm carefully as more skin was exposed, feeling Reno’s eyes roving over the scars as he did it. They stood out in vivid contrast with the darker tan of his skin, pale white and raw pink for the deeper cuts. Then finally, he could let the last of the cloth fall from his hand, bending his fingers, the entire limb still feeling stiff and heavy.
How’s it feeling? Reno scribbled, the words running together because he was watching Rude and not his marker.
Rude curled his sluggish right hand around his marker, letting it get used to the feeling again before replying. It’s okay.
Could have healed nicer, yo. Reno wrote back, making a face. It’s like tic tac toe all over your arm.
Rude rolled his eyes. Yes, tact and subtlety were certainly not Reno’s strong points. At least I have my arm back.
Reno nodded in reluctant agreement, his mood darkening.
Reno, it’s not your fault.
Maybe I shouldn’t have tr-
Shut up Reno.
The redhead scowled at him while Rude glared resolutely back. Reno returned his eyes to the wall. You’re right. I should have just hit it harder. Thrown a tantrum. Chucked imaginary things at it…
Rude snorted and fought off a smile. Using your head might have worked better.
Reno stared at him with dawning comprehension that may or may not have been fake. Rude sincerely hoped it was.
You really think that might have worked, yo?
NO.
Reno huffed in indignation at the capitalized response the other man gave him. I was just kidding, Rude, chill. My head’s too pretty to be used as a battering ram.
Rude rolled his eyes and shook his head as the redhead began writing and singing the lyrics to the ‘I’m so pretty!’ song.
You…I don’t even know what to say.
Reno chuckled soundlessly. You don’t have to. I know how amazing I am.
Crazy, not amazing.
The redhead simply broke out into a grin. Hey, man, just because you can’t think outside the box doesn’t mean you can rag on-
He froze, his eyes snapping up to Rude’s in silent apology. His hand went back and wiped out the words in seconds as Rude watched, suddenly more aware of the glass between them.
Sorry yo, Reno wrote hastily, the heel of his hand smearing the ink along the crystal surface. I didn’t mean it like that. This place is more circular, you know? It’s not your fault…well…okay, but it’s not THAT bad here, it’s not a box, it’s just kinda…I didn’t mean it that way. Reno stopped writing, frowning at his message. I totally screwed that up, huh? Look, I’m sorry.
Rude just gave him a rueful half-smile. No. You’re right.
He was trapped in a box, and even worse, a box of his own creation. He’d sealed himself off from the outside world and now he was paying the price for it, and when it came right down to the heart of the matter he didn’t have anyone to blame but himself. All he’d wanted was a little insulation from other people, but he must have wished with the wrong letters, because he’d ended up in isolation instead. It…it was a bit lonelier than he’d expected it would be. He wasn’t a particularly social person, but even loners want some sort of human contact every once in a while, and staring through a window at the outside world just wasn’t enough. The mind and emotions might need protecting, but locking them away on their own only made them more fragile.
Reno observed him with a downcast expression, a hand resting on the back of his neck. Sorry.
Rude focused on his own writing, trying to make it as legible as he could with resistant fingers. I don’t want to be here anymore.
The redhead smiled broadly, tilting his head. At least you’re not here alone anymore, right partner? Capping the marker, Reno shoved it into his pants pocket and flattened both hands against the glass, his blue eyes staring at him expectantly.
Rude could sense a grin tugging unbidden at his lips as he put away his own writing tool, carefully aligning his own palm and fingers over Reno’s. Reno nodded at him in satisfaction, smirking and saying something Rude missed as he lowered his eyes to watch the glass.
I don’t need to be here anymore, Rude thought, eyeing the wall under his hands. I need to be out there.
He assumed it was Reno tapping against the glass when it started to vibrate under his palms, not at all unusual, but then it grew warm, hot to the touch, and started moving. A deafening grating noise split the air, and Rude was pretty sure this had nothing to do with Reno anymore, when a sharp, straight line formed about eight inches from the outside of both hands, rising a short ways above his head before abruptly racing towards each other to meet in the middle.
It looked…it looked like a…
Rude pushed gently on the outlined rectangle of glass, a profound sense of relief breaking over him as it yielded to his will, swinging open slowly like the door to his freedom that it was.
Reno gaped open-mouthed at him from a foot away, staring in bewilderment at the glass door and looking the other man up and down. “What the-?” were his first words. “How in Jenova did you do that?”
“Surprised?” Rude asked, feeling a bit surprised and elated himself.
And holy mother of Gaia, he was having an actual conversation with another human being, hearing the sound of his own voice and listening to Reno’s for the first time. It was unbelievable; he was going to be high on this feeling for ages.
Reno just sputtered incomprehensively at him, waving his hands around and jabbing an accusing finger repeatedly at the door.
Rude just smiled at him, smirking at the flabbergasted expression on the redhead’s face. He held out his healed hand to the redhead. “Hello, Reno.”
I understand, now. Thank you.
Reno took a deep breath to calm himself down, taking note of the multitude of scar lines adorning Rude’s arm. His eyes seemed to glow with exhilaration, his face brightening in a way that made all the time Rude had suffered in his self-induced exile worth it.
Two hands met each other for the first time, skin sliding on skin, fingers brushing over calluses and sensitive flesh, nerves electrified after having been deprived of contact for so long as they finally initiated a proper greeting.
“An overdue intro, I think, yo,” Reno replied, giving the other man a genuinely fond, teasing smile. “Nice to meet you, Rude. Name’s Reno-” he shook the proffered hand with a firm grip-“and it’s about damn time you got the hell out of that box.”
No problem, partner. Anytime.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I profit nothing, I mean offense to nothing.
Title: Fragile
Pairing: RenoRude friendship! AU
Prompt: Draw With Me. Link to the vid is in my ff.net profile.
Author: mitsuruaki
Why?: Because the_sexypancake insisted I post more pronto. XD
Words: 4,373
Rating: PG-13. But be wary of unintentional, minor self-inflicted violence.
He’d been alone for quite a while now.
He was content to sit here in silence, on his own, not really waiting for someone or something but just…existing. There was safety here; high walls he had built up over time that were both intended and unintentional, and invisible to the untrained eye. More than one, of course- since when was one of anything adequate protection? They were difficult to detect, but if you tilted your head and narrowed your eyes and really looked for them, they sat in staggered rows for maximum defense that blurred out anything beyond a certain distance.
He wasn’t even sure what was on the other side of them, really. Not anymore.
People had visited him before, or attempted to, at least. They deserved some sort of credit for trying, he supposed. It wasn’t their fault he simply wasn’t interested in them. He could see them far off or several walls away every once in a while, fuzzy shapes plainly puzzled or frustrated or resigned at their inability to get through to him, but he felt no urge to do anything other than observe them.
And then He showed up.
He was standing there one day outside that last wall; black and white clothes that would have been formal if he’d bothered with ironing or wearing them properly. His dark red hair was thrown back into a narrow ponytail as though someone had given him a haircut with a dull pair of kitchen shears, given up about nine-tenths of the way through, and decided the sole option left was to tie the leftovers together. A pair of goggles rested over his forehead without serving any apparent productive purpose other than to present the idea that he did use them at some point, for some reason. Hands on his hips, the man stared with deep perplexity at that last towering, transparent wall before shockingly pale blue eyes, which were somehow one of the most vivid hues he’d ever seen, snapped onto him.
No one had ever come this close in ages, so close that he could unmistakably see a solid, clear-cut outline through the glass, sharply defined features, bright colors even through his sunglasses. Staring seemed to be the only appropriate response to that realization.
The man gave him a sideways grin with a tilt of the head and gestured at the wall with one hand, his mouth moving to form words that went unheard.
How strange. Someone was actually trying to communicate with him. Taking a few steps forward, he shook his head, eyeing the other man with restrained curiosity. The walls were completely soundproof, but the other man didn’t seem to know that.
Giving him an odd look, the redhead spoke again, his voice undoubtedly louder and the pronunciation ridiculously exaggerated.
Shaking his head a second time and pointing to his ear appeared to get the message across as his new visitor scowled at the barrier, raising a fist to tap cautiously at the glass. A frown crossed the new face, throwing the red curves tattooed around the outsides of his eyes into stark relief. He watched the redhead retreat a few steps to crane his head back to look up at the impossible height and expanse of the glass. Exasperation crossed delicate facial features before those blue eyes met his own again.
The man mimed writing on a piece of paper, watching him with raised eyebrows for an answer.
He nodded, and then paused. Had the man been asking if he could write, or if he had something to write with?
The answer came when the newcomer reached into a pocket and pulled out what looked to be two pens of some sort. Glancing up at the wall again, the other man jogged a short distance away, stopped to evaluate the trajectory, reared back, and launched one of the pens in his direction.
Miraculously, the object sailed clear over the barrier and landed with a clatter only a few feet away. He stared at it.
A knock on the glass pulled his attention back to the redheaded man and the message now staining the barricade in front of him, some of the initial letters scribbled out.
Pick it up, yo.
Blinking at the craziness of it all, he moved to retrieve the newly arrived item and examined it as he readjusted his glasses on his nose. It was a marker of some kind without a label, although removing the cap revealed black ink. He turned back to the wall, frowning at the redhead who was busy writing another note.
I’m Reno. What’s your name?
Hesitantly, he lifted the marker to respond, moving slowly, startled at the sight of his own handwriting scrawling itself on the glass.
Rude.
The redhead’s face brightened in a laugh, his eyes darting up to look at Rude’s expression.
Is that Roo-d?
No. It’s Roo-day.
Reno’s face lit up in understanding as he replied back. So Roo-day. What are you doing here?
Rude looked into blue eyes, feeling his brow furrow at the question. I AM here.
The redhead’s face dissolved into confusion, staring at him blankly. You ARE here?
Yes.
Okay…do you like it here?
…I don’t understand. I AM here. There is nowhere else.
Reno smiled at him and shrugged, but it seemed more of a sad smile that didn’t reach his eyes, not a real one. Can you draw? I’ve heard a pic's worth a 1000 words, yo.
Could he draw? Rude eyed the glass, already covered with a fair amount of words. Decently.
The redhead just smirked and let his marker glide against the glass.
Time wore on and they moved along the wall, leaving a trail of words, diagrams, and drawings in their wake. Some of them were amazingly crude pictures, depicting things that made Rude’s eye twitch as he scribbled dark patches over them on his side of the glass to block them from view, which just made Reno crack up into fits of laughter at his efforts. Reno was there every day before Rude, always ready with a new comment and a mischievous grin.
And then one day he showed up with bandages around his knuckles.
Rude frowned at the white cloth carefully wrapped around the other man’s hands, his forehead wrinkling as he leaned forward to take a closer look at them.
Don’t worry about it, yo. No big deal, Reno wrote, shrugging at the skeptical look Rude gave him. Doesn’t hurt or nothin’.
What did you do?
The redhead surveyed him for several long moments, his light eyes hooded and secretive. I told you. Nothin’, yo.
Rude stared back at him, knowing Reno wasn’t telling the truth but not entirely sure why he would lie to him. One didn’t get bandaged knuckles by doing nothing.
Okay, fine. I’ll show you. The redhead whipped out his marker and started illustrating his story, which Rude immediately realized was a load of bull, full of alcohol, crude situations, and more nudity than a tall tale had any right to have.
Rude rolled his eyes behind his tinted lenses and went back to the beginning, patiently blacking out the entire storyline. Reno started cackling through his inaudible protests, drawing faster to keep the other man from catching him, his eyes twinkling as Rude sped up in an effort to match his speed. Reno eventually faltered when his hand began shaking from too much laughter to hold the marker steady. Instead, he wrapped one arm around his stomach and used the other to prop himself up, his fingers and palm spreading flat against the transparent barrier while his eyes teared up in mirth.
For the first time, Rude briefly wished he could hear another person’s laughter.
Tentatively, he switched the marker to his left hand and raised his right to the wall, settling his palm over the redhead’s and taking note of how even though Reno’s fingers were slightly longer, his own hand was still a little larger.
Reno’s head tilted up to see what he was doing, noticing Rude’s lack of movement, his eyes inevitably drawn to their mirrored hands. He straightened up slowly, pressing his hand hard against the glass. His gaze darted up to meet Rude’s, any trace of amusement wiped from his expression. Quietly, Rude watched their hands and Reno stared at Rude, both of them feeling as though the glass were miles thick, rather than a mere inch.
Maybe…maybe it wasn’t such a good thing to keep himself locked in here, Rude thought, observing the flickering longing and loneliness in the redhead’s face.
The next two times Reno showed up, the amount of bandages had increased and he could barely bend his fingers to hold the marker. The pain was noticeable in his expression, but he stubbornly refused to write what had happened, simply regressing into childish glaring, doodling, and otherwise ignoring any inquiries associated with the subject.
Rude crossed his arms and glared back at him. Why not?
Reno narrowed his eyes at the words. Because.
I just want to know.
Well I don’t want to share, yo. So there.
Reno.
The redhead just gave him a ‘what?’ look, his eyes determinedly lowered to his primitive picture where he was bashing someone with what looked like a long stick. What do you care, man?
Rude watched the marker move for a few seconds, before writing, I want to understand.
Reno stopped to stare at his reply, his eyes rising to meet Rude’s. Understand what?
What you did.
Why?
Why do I want to understand what you did?
Reno nodded, vibrantly colored hair following the action with delayed timing, his eyes intently focused on the other man’s hand.
What was he supposed to write now? Reno seemed to looking for a specific answer, or a codeword of some sort. Was there some universal response he was supposed to reply with? Rude looked back over their conversation, trying and failing to find the hidden meaning in the ink. Perhaps he was making this more complicated than it had to be. Maybe Reno just wanted an honest answer.
Because I want to understand you.
Reno’s expression blanked out as he took in the message, blinking a couple times and swallowing forcefully. He gnawed at his lower lip as he critically scrutinized the glass, his features hardening and a mulish determination stealing into his eyes.
Rude kept an eye on him with growing concern, even more so when the determination morphed into something resembling resentment and an escalating, frustrated ire. But he would have been lying if he claimed he wasn’t the least bit surprised when the redhead pulled back a fist and began beating on the glass. Stumbling away from the now quivering wall, alarmed, Rude watched Reno fight a fiery but losing battle against the see-through barrier.
Panic welled inside him, prompting a paralysis of his limbs as he was torn between staying put and attempting to convince Reno to stop. What if Reno succeeded at getting through the glass? Did he want him to break through the glass? Instinct said no, he did not want change, did not want anyone else here.
The glass shook until Rude could hear the vibrations, the first of any sound he’d heard in eons. It grew spidery cracks and threatened to cave, but in the end did no such thing, simply leaving Reno completely drained and exhausted.
Head bowed, long sparse bangs not quite obscuring the hurt and fragile sorrow in pale blue eyes, Reno didn’t bother to hide the effect his failure had on him. And understanding suddenly clicked together in Rude’s mind at where Reno’s bandages were coming from. This was not the first time Reno had valiantly lost a war against this wall; it was simply the first time he’d done so in front of Rude.
Reno dragged a fist down the transparent surface and rested his forehead against the glass, his face twisted up in discouraged, self-directed fury as he caught his breath. He didn’t look up as the wall erased all signs of his struggle: the cracks sealed themselves as though they had never existed, indentations reversed to once again fill out their original space, and left behind a pristine, unmarred wall.
Why did you do that? Rude asked finally, his heart feeling heavy in a way he didn’t fully understand.
The redhead pushed away from the barrier when Rude tapped his marker against the glass, searching out the new words with tired eyes. Because…I want to be on that side.
Here?
Reno nodded, more of an acknowledging blink of the eyes than anything else.
But there’s nothing on this side that you don’t already have over there.
The redhead stared at him, faint disbelief tinting the look as his gaze flickered from the written words to Rude’s face. You’re on that side, yo.
Rude paused and weighed his options as both of them carefully surveyed the other’s face. Reno had already tried to break through, with dismal results. But Rude was the one in charge of this place and he knew that; this was his fortress, his home, his sanctuary. He liked being here alone and unbothered by the world. But lately…he’d been getting restless.
It had been impossible to desire venturing beyond these walls when there had obviously been nothing there to see, but things weren’t the same anymore. Reno was there. And Reno wanted the person behind the glass bad enough to beat himself up for it.
And more than that, for the first time…he wanted, maybe, to let someone through. If he still could. Was he even capable of that, anymore? These walls were supposed to keep people out, were inflexible for a reason. What if Reno turned out to be different than what he’d seen so far? Was it easier to just keep someone out than to let them in and have to throw them out later, if that was even possible? Probably.
Could he afford to give Reno the benefit of the doubt?
Rude looked back at their writing surface over the top of his sunglasses, taking note of the seemingly endless miles of written thoughts, drawings, and stories, painstakingly shared over an indefinite but extensive period of time. Glanced at the marker in his hand, Reno’s last sentence, the now-rumpled bandages wrapped around newly-bleeding knuckles and long fingers. If Reno had made it this far, fought this hard, stayed this long, Rude at least owed it to him to try.
The redhead was wincing, in the process of lifting his writing tool to elaborate on his last comment, when Rude’s fist crashed into the glass. Reno’s eyes widened as he leapt back, his mouth shaping the sound of what was undoubtedly a curse of some kind, as Rude hit the barrier one, two, three times. Reno was back in an instant, shaking his head and yelling something most likely with the intent of discouraging him, attempting to catch his attention.
Rude ignored the sharp, throbbing pain in his knuckles when they connected with the clear surface once again, also ignoring the way Reno shook his wrapped hands at him angrily to convey the only results he would probably achieve; it wasn’t just anger, there was worry there too.
But the glass was giving under his assault; he could feel it weakening under the onslaught, so if he just used a little more force…
With a crack like a gunshot, his hand left a splintering impression in the wall that stopped Reno mid-sentence. His eyes met the redhead’s, seeing the uncertain hope igniting there, not unlike his own, as the other man quickly retreated out of range of any potential harm. One last strong hit let his fist smash through what was left of the glass, leaving a decent-sized jagged hole around his arm.
Reno’s face was wide-eyed with breathless shock and incredulity, the beginnings of an awed smile shaping his mouth. A bandaged hand tentatively reached out towards an uncurling fist the redhead would finally be able to touch and feel, not just see and watch, and briefly, just for a second, those had to be Reno’s fingers brushing against his-
And then everything went wrong.
Before Rude could even register what was happening, the world started moving in reverse. The glass arcing for the ground abruptly halted and zipped back towards the wall without any regard for his shirt sleeves or skin, brutally slicing past as pieces headed back to their proper places. His fingers spasmed in surprise at the multitude of stinging sensations, the shards cutting and shredding his hand and arm as their speed increased, snapping back into the barrier. It happened so quickly, all at once, that even when his reflex reaction for self-preservation kicked in, he almost didn’t yank his arm back fast enough to keep from losing the whole limb. The wall re-sealed itself without a single scratch, a small amount of blood smeared on the glass.
He could truthfully say that he’d never been in this much agony in his life, his tattered arm cradled to his chest while it bled all over the floor, his shoes, his pants, and what was left of his shirt. Reno banged insistently on the transparent divider but Rude didn’t look up, completely stunned at what had just occurred, and what had happened to his arm?
Ripping off the remains of his outer jacket and wrapping it around what was left of his trembling, damaged limb, a numbed mystification overwhelmed his thoughts. He wasn’t even in charge of his own protection, anymore. Those walls…they weren’t listening to him. He no longer had control over any of this, not at all, and his arm. When had this happened? How could he have let this happen...?
He didn’t remember fading out but he must have at some point, because now he was sitting with his arm wrapped in a sling, staring at the wall, the pain muted to a dull ache. Reno was crouched in front of him on the other side of the glass, panic and fear in his expression as he caught Rude’s gaze.
Are you okay, yo?
That was a rather stupid question, in Rude’s opinion. Rude gave him a pointed look and struggled to write clearly with a clumsy left hand. No.
Reno sighed and settled down on the floor. What the hell happened, man?
I don’t know.
But…but you got through.
Rude didn’t say anything in response, his hand running over the uneven cloth of the bandages.
Reno stuck his tongue in his cheek, his face screwed up in thought. He heaved a pouty-looking sigh. Maybe…this is going to have to be enough for now, yo.
‘For now’…there wasn’t going to be another try, Rude thought, watching Reno. There was no way he was going through that again.
The redhead covered all available space with his untidy scrawl since the other man didn’t write as often anymore. Rude hated seeing the handwriting of his left hand looking as though a fifth grader had written it while suffering a sneeze attack. But he liked reading Reno’s stories, real or otherwise. The man had a lot to say and not a lot of people to say it to, apparently, because he didn’t seem to be visiting anyone else. They kept Rude occupied and occasionally amused as his hand slowly, gradually, healed on its own.
Each time he removed some of the wrap, little by little, he flexed his arm carefully as more skin was exposed, feeling Reno’s eyes roving over the scars as he did it. They stood out in vivid contrast with the darker tan of his skin, pale white and raw pink for the deeper cuts. Then finally, he could let the last of the cloth fall from his hand, bending his fingers, the entire limb still feeling stiff and heavy.
How’s it feeling? Reno scribbled, the words running together because he was watching Rude and not his marker.
Rude curled his sluggish right hand around his marker, letting it get used to the feeling again before replying. It’s okay.
Could have healed nicer, yo. Reno wrote back, making a face. It’s like tic tac toe all over your arm.
Rude rolled his eyes. Yes, tact and subtlety were certainly not Reno’s strong points. At least I have my arm back.
Reno nodded in reluctant agreement, his mood darkening.
Reno, it’s not your fault.
Maybe I shouldn’t have tr-
Shut up Reno.
The redhead scowled at him while Rude glared resolutely back. Reno returned his eyes to the wall. You’re right. I should have just hit it harder. Thrown a tantrum. Chucked imaginary things at it…
Rude snorted and fought off a smile. Using your head might have worked better.
Reno stared at him with dawning comprehension that may or may not have been fake. Rude sincerely hoped it was.
You really think that might have worked, yo?
NO.
Reno huffed in indignation at the capitalized response the other man gave him. I was just kidding, Rude, chill. My head’s too pretty to be used as a battering ram.
Rude rolled his eyes and shook his head as the redhead began writing and singing the lyrics to the ‘I’m so pretty!’ song.
You…I don’t even know what to say.
Reno chuckled soundlessly. You don’t have to. I know how amazing I am.
Crazy, not amazing.
The redhead simply broke out into a grin. Hey, man, just because you can’t think outside the box doesn’t mean you can rag on-
He froze, his eyes snapping up to Rude’s in silent apology. His hand went back and wiped out the words in seconds as Rude watched, suddenly more aware of the glass between them.
Sorry yo, Reno wrote hastily, the heel of his hand smearing the ink along the crystal surface. I didn’t mean it like that. This place is more circular, you know? It’s not your fault…well…okay, but it’s not THAT bad here, it’s not a box, it’s just kinda…I didn’t mean it that way. Reno stopped writing, frowning at his message. I totally screwed that up, huh? Look, I’m sorry.
Rude just gave him a rueful half-smile. No. You’re right.
He was trapped in a box, and even worse, a box of his own creation. He’d sealed himself off from the outside world and now he was paying the price for it, and when it came right down to the heart of the matter he didn’t have anyone to blame but himself. All he’d wanted was a little insulation from other people, but he must have wished with the wrong letters, because he’d ended up in isolation instead. It…it was a bit lonelier than he’d expected it would be. He wasn’t a particularly social person, but even loners want some sort of human contact every once in a while, and staring through a window at the outside world just wasn’t enough. The mind and emotions might need protecting, but locking them away on their own only made them more fragile.
Reno observed him with a downcast expression, a hand resting on the back of his neck. Sorry.
Rude focused on his own writing, trying to make it as legible as he could with resistant fingers. I don’t want to be here anymore.
The redhead smiled broadly, tilting his head. At least you’re not here alone anymore, right partner? Capping the marker, Reno shoved it into his pants pocket and flattened both hands against the glass, his blue eyes staring at him expectantly.
Rude could sense a grin tugging unbidden at his lips as he put away his own writing tool, carefully aligning his own palm and fingers over Reno’s. Reno nodded at him in satisfaction, smirking and saying something Rude missed as he lowered his eyes to watch the glass.
I don’t need to be here anymore, Rude thought, eyeing the wall under his hands. I need to be out there.
He assumed it was Reno tapping against the glass when it started to vibrate under his palms, not at all unusual, but then it grew warm, hot to the touch, and started moving. A deafening grating noise split the air, and Rude was pretty sure this had nothing to do with Reno anymore, when a sharp, straight line formed about eight inches from the outside of both hands, rising a short ways above his head before abruptly racing towards each other to meet in the middle.
It looked…it looked like a…
Rude pushed gently on the outlined rectangle of glass, a profound sense of relief breaking over him as it yielded to his will, swinging open slowly like the door to his freedom that it was.
Reno gaped open-mouthed at him from a foot away, staring in bewilderment at the glass door and looking the other man up and down. “What the-?” were his first words. “How in Jenova did you do that?”
“Surprised?” Rude asked, feeling a bit surprised and elated himself.
And holy mother of Gaia, he was having an actual conversation with another human being, hearing the sound of his own voice and listening to Reno’s for the first time. It was unbelievable; he was going to be high on this feeling for ages.
Reno just sputtered incomprehensively at him, waving his hands around and jabbing an accusing finger repeatedly at the door.
Rude just smiled at him, smirking at the flabbergasted expression on the redhead’s face. He held out his healed hand to the redhead. “Hello, Reno.”
I understand, now. Thank you.
Reno took a deep breath to calm himself down, taking note of the multitude of scar lines adorning Rude’s arm. His eyes seemed to glow with exhilaration, his face brightening in a way that made all the time Rude had suffered in his self-induced exile worth it.
Two hands met each other for the first time, skin sliding on skin, fingers brushing over calluses and sensitive flesh, nerves electrified after having been deprived of contact for so long as they finally initiated a proper greeting.
“An overdue intro, I think, yo,” Reno replied, giving the other man a genuinely fond, teasing smile. “Nice to meet you, Rude. Name’s Reno-” he shook the proffered hand with a firm grip-“and it’s about damn time you got the hell out of that box.”
No problem, partner. Anytime.