Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII is a product of Squaresoft.  The song 'A Little Fall of Rain' is from the musical 'Les Miserable'. 

Spoiler Warning: Descriptions of certain events in the game are scattered throughout the story.    

A/N: You really need to be able to see the italics, or everything will probably get quite confusing.  This story is a one-shot, meaning there's only one chapter, and after this, you'll realise just what strange plot ideas exams inspire. 

Pathetic Fallacy

She couldn't remember how long she'd been walking for.  Every step had long since become mechanical, her legs propelled forward by a desperate compulsion to keep moving, to keep searching.  Her heart thudded loudly in the unnatural silence, its pain – her pain – overriding the effects of fatigue and blinding her to the stagnant beauty of her surroundings.  Beneath her, a carpet of flowers cushioned her feet with soft petals, but viciously drove razor thorns into her sole.  Ecstasy and agony.  Yet while she felt them, they were as nothing compared to the all-consuming anguish that enveloped her mind.  She breathed pain, for with each breath she inhaled air, and whispered his name.                                    

The world had imploded after that last brutal fight, an intense light blazing across her vision.  It had seared reality like sheet lightning, before everything gradually receded into a merciful darkness.  But when she opened her eyes, the world had coalesced into a never-ending flower field where time had no hold, and it seemed as if she had but blinked.  And somewhere in between, he had disappeared.           

She felt like she was reliving her dream of a few nights ago.  Vividly realistic, it was etched into her memory, the residual fear never quite leaving her.  In the dream, they had promised to see shooting stars together, but she couldn't remember where they were supposed to meet.  She had run searching through mountains, the desert, the plains, through Timber, Balamb, and Galbadia, and still she hadn't found him.  She had run until her feet ached and it hurt to breath, until she knew she couldn't run any longer.                     

The old panic was overpowering.  A small part of her realised that somewhere in the midst of remembering her dream, she herself had started to run.  Dream and reality seamlessly merged, with déjà vu heightening her dread as all rational thought fled. 

Where are you?               

Despairing, she screamed out for him, her voice hoarse with grief, and her legs finally buckling with exhaustion.  Lurching painfully to her feet, she stumbled briefly before collapsing once again.  She clawed at the ground, uprooting flowers, desperately trying to drag her resisting body forward.  Her legs were little more than dead weights.  Her perfectly manicured fingernails were now chipped and dirty.  Her hair was a wild tangle without beginning or end.       

You promised to be here…

Trembling uncontrollably, her futile struggles lessened, and she lay, scrabbling weakly at the dirt.  With her face pressed so closely against the ground, the heady scent of the flowers permeated the very air she breathed, infusing her senses.  All of this was wrong, but the intoxicating cocktail of fragrances comforted her, like a whiff of home – wherever that was.  She rolled over on to her back, ignoring the sharp jabs of thorns through her clothing. 

You promised that I'd find you…

Hung from a chain around her neck, his ring rested lightly on her skin, the metal a cold, yet comforting weight.  It was a keepsake of his love, a reminder of his promise, and she reached up to caress it, running her fingers around its smooth edges and plain sides.  She half-hoped that it would make him return to her, but the only magic it possessed was that which their love had woven into its meaning.  It was a symbol, nothing more.                   

Taking a shaky breath, she gazed up at the sky, and her consciousness was lost in its darkness.  Infinity and oblivion were reflected in the black void.  Here, eternity was everything – space, the world, life…and it was nothing.  There were no stars to cross, no twinkling pinpoints of light to guide the way.  She drowned in those murky depths, suffocating. 

There are no shooting stars. 

Something suddenly flickered in the darkness, a light flaring briefly to life then extinguishing just as hastily.  She could easily have missed it.  The very texture of the blackness seemed to have changed.  Another light winked in and out of existence.  There was another, and then another.  They came in greater succession, illuminating the void, until she swore they formed an indistinguishable pattern, like a secret code.  Images swirled in her mind's eye, and were superimposed on her vision, on to the strange scintillations, attributing a sense of order to what was quite possibly random chaos.  And what those images showed her…               

The blade sliced deeply into her shoulder, its initial momentum causing it to continue downwards in a deadly diagonal path.  It sheared effortlessly through her flesh, unhindered by mere bone, a fountain of crimson gushing in its wake.  His face, coldly expressionless like sculptured ice, except for the eyes, mad with triumphant fury and blood lust…            

…those smoky furnaces, which she had so often drowned in.  Blinking hard, she tried to rid herself of the scene, of the accompanying pain.  Another one rose to take its place.

Light, from the numerous torches adorning the walls, played evilly on the metal, causing the fiery lion engraved on the blade to wink at her with a malicious glint in his eye.  The sight of his blade poised to strike her down drove her to the pits of despair.  She screamed and… 

…closed her eyes, awaiting the blow to fall.  When nothing happened, she cautiously reopened them.     

The gloved hand tightly grasping the hilt, guided the blade in a brutal downward arc from which there was no escape.  From the moment it had started to fall, she could see how he had put all his strength behind that blow, and she wondered what had she done to make him hate her so much.     

Perhaps she had failed him.  Blink.

The blade was about to be driven in.

It was her fault for not looking for him hard enough.  Blink.

Rivers of blood.

He must truly hate her.  Blink.

Death at his hand.

Each time her eyes reopened, something equally horrifying had replaced the scene before it - a twisted never-ending montage of death.  For sure all things must die, but to see an end in every story, to have a story made up entirely of ends…  How hard must it be to watch yourself die?  And in every thread, the same person killed her –

Her lover…her knight…her executioner.     

And the worst thing was, for the same reasons a child who when in trouble, innocently thinks that everything's their fault, she was starting to believe that she deserved this fate.  Thus, with an almost masochistic attitude towards her punishment, she was determined to keep her eyes open this time, but perhaps in her heart, what she really wanted was just to see him, no matter what the cost.

They all stood opposite her, expressionless despite the disgust, hatred and anger they evidently felt for her.  Oh yes, and fear…they hid it well, but she could smell its cold stench, could see the slight hesitation in their movements.  They were right to fear her, for she could easily crush them.  They were vermin.  She raised her arm threateningly with a terrible grace, and spoke, the words reverberating around the hall in a menacing crescendo.

"...SeeD... SeeD...SeeD... SeeD, SeeD, SeeD!  Kurse all SeeDs.  Swarming like lokust akross generations. You disgust me…"

Squeezing her eyes shut, she blocked out the image.  A mixture of emotions was brewing within her, powerful and draining: confusion at what was happening, relief at not being…herself all those times when he killed her, and anger at being subject to this personal brand of Hell.  Was it her punishment for all eternity to view death through Ultimecia's eyes, since she had a part in killing her?  The curse of a sorceress, or of being one.  Surely she could not have been Ultimecia herself, for even a sorceress would be hard pressed to be in two different places or times at once.  Or was something going wrong?

Her emotions continued to churn.  She wanted to resume her search for him in the flower field, but no longer was she conscious of anything but the darkness.  Her back was numb to the thorns, and her senses were no longer assailed by the potent floral fragrances.  It reminded her of when she had been drifting in space, isolated from reality.  Irrational anger, hot and vicious, twisted through her, sharper than his blade, wrenching her heart, and clouding her mind.  At least then she could see the stars.   

Fear wormed its way into her heart.  With growing alarm and trepidation, she tried to stand up, all the while keeping her eyes closed to avoid the nightmarish visions.  She panicked when she couldn't feel the ground.                     

Memories began to filter through her mind, dredged up by the blackness, by irrational fear, by the childish part of her that was still scared of the dark.  It was perhaps an attempt to comfort herself, by reliving those times she had with him, unfurling them like long strips of ribbon.  The memory of being lost in space had acted as a trigger, opening the floodgate separating the past from the present. 

"You're the best guy here.  Dance with me?  Let me guess…you'll only dance with someone you like…"

Smiling softly, she remembered what had happened next, and she tried to immerse herself in the warm feelings evoked, as though snuggling deeper into his embrace.  The SeeD Ball, the first time she'd met him, the first time they'd danced.  And then like a faulty screen, the image in her mind's eye flickered, or rather, the image of her flickered, fading between corporeal and ethereal, as though her memory couldn't decide whether she was supposed to be there or not.  She wanted to scream, suddenly finding non-existence a thousand times scarier than death.  And her shock and fear increased, as far too late, she realised that she had reopened her eyes.  Fate had one more card to play.

The blade descended at an angle, crying out for her blood.  Time dilated, and still it relentlessly inched towards her, cutting through the air with all the grim determination and inevitability of death, promising much the same detachment.  Just as it was about to touch her skin, the blade's silvery surface sadistically revealed the rictus of terror her face had contorted into.  The reflection showed a youthful beauty corrupted by age-old power, with innocence an early casualty.  Black wings merged with hair in the background.  The blade entered her, and she screamed in pain…

…and she screamed in horror.  Her face.  Her face. 

Her face.                            

  If she had been able to feel her arms, she would have brought a trembling hand up and shakily traced the contours of her face. 

It had been her face. 

Why had she replaced Ultimecia? 

Knowing who she was, he had still killed her.   

"If I fall under Ultimecia's control again…SeeD will come kill me, right?  And the leader of SeeD is you, Squall…Squall's sword will pierce my heart…I guess it's ok if it's you, Squall.  Nobody else.  Squall, if that ever happens…"

"That's enough!  I'll never do anything like that.  The sorceress I'm after is not you, Rinoa.  My enemy is the sorceress from the future…Ultimecia."

The conversation echoed faintly in her mind, the spoken words now seemingly full of false bravado and denial, so characteristic of both of them, always pretending to be capable or indifferent.  Why was it then, that she still felt betrayed?  Because in her romantic daydreams, she naively expected him to put love before saving the world? 

No, this was wrong.  This was all wrong.  Ultimecia was a sorceress from the future.  She herself had been on the good side, the right side, with him, and had helped him to kill Ultimecia.  She had definitely met him at the SeeD Ball, or else none of this would have happened, and she wouldn't be here.  Somehow, eternity and the darkness had gotten everything mixed up, and were now playing games with her mind.

In desperation, she once again plunged into her memories, searching this time for all the encounters she and Squall had ever had with Ultimecia.  Encased in those memories, was the way things were supposed to be.  They had defeated Ultimecia, and saved the world from the horrors of time compression.  Ultimecia, not her, not Rinoa Heartlily, Ultimecia, was the one who was cold, cruel, and proud, and ruthless in fulfilling her goal of world domination.  This was the only way to preserve her sanity, by proving that they were two very different people, but it was getting harder to recall what had happened.

She and Irvine had followed Squall on to the trapped parade barge, hopping aboard it just in time to confront Edea.  Casually, contemptuously, the sorceress flung ice magic at her and she barely managed to dodge in time. Quickly glancing up, she saw the second icicle heading towards her, a transparent, rainbow death, and she raised her hands to block it, but…it passed straight through her without any effect.  She hadn't been there.  Her image had vanished for a second.  It flickered again.        

Panic seized her. 

"Worthless fools.  All SeeD must perish!" Edea's voice echoed coldly around Galbadia Garden's auditorium.  The sorceress lifted her arms, ready to cast every deadly spell in her arsenal at them.  And yet, despite her mind-numbing fear, she still stood willingly beside Squall ready to fight her.  Stepping forward, she raised her weapon, about to fire, when her image shimmered, as though something had caused a ripple in the fabric of her being.

In each memory, she flickered in and out of existence like before, as though her life was in the process of being gradually erased.  Time was suddenly a very real concept.  Existence was slipping through her fingers.   

She continued to dance through her memories, her consciousness, her world, spinning, shifting, and sliding to the frantic beat pounded out by her heart.  She so much wanted to be dancing with him instead.  And what would happen when the dance ended, when nothing but silence remained?  This time, there wouldn't be a shooting star, nor would his face be next to hers.  Would she instead start to fade, or would the darkness swallow her whole?         

I'm still scared of the dark.

By then, she probably wouldn't remember anything, not the past, not her life…not even him.   

Already she was beginning to tire, and self-doubt wove its way into her mind, wreaking its usual mischief.  It whispered words of despair, emphasising the futility of her actions, how…

Fate always wins. 

It added more shadows to the darkness, making the void loom more menacingly all around her.

How can you challenge eternity? 

It caused her to miss a step in the dance, allowing her fears to catch up.               

And the possibilities flicker and fade. 

The dance was drawing to a close.  She was running out of memories to replay.   
The flower field filled her vision, numbing her fatigue.  She couldn't remember how long she'd been walking for… 

Does everything repeat itself like an endless time loop, or by disappearing from the flower field, would this nightmare end?

She collapsed on to the ground, briefly struggling forwards before lying still.  Ignoring the sharp jabs of thorns through her clothing, she rolled over on to her back, and breathed in the scent of the flowers.  The weight of his ring was comforting…

The image seemed to ripple.  Using the last of her energy, she threw herself into the moment, immersing herself in a dream, and willing it to become her reality.  If she were to die, she'd rather do so in a flower field than in the void.  The flowers were pretty.  She liked pretty things.   

She reached up to finger the ring, loving the way light played on its glittery surface, and thought only of him.  If she closed her eyes, she could see the both of them standing on a balcony, hidden from view by the velvet curtains.  Both of them were leaning against the carved marble balustrade, and staring up at the night's sky, or at least she was.  A shooting star blazed by, and she turned to face Squall, pointing up at it, knowing that he saw it too.                           

Her body was weakening.  She knew she was dying, but she no longer felt any fear.  There was nothing left, but this pleasant dream, or as she told herself, a memory remembered for the first time.

His arms wrapped around her, in the way she always imagined, always wanted, and she snuggled deeper into his embrace.   

A part of her wanted to cry, to mourn for what she had lost, but somehow, caught between two realities, two very different emotions, the tears refused to come.  But then she felt something wet on her cheeks.  Drops were sliding down her face, caressing her skin.  Too scared to open her eyes for fear of losing the dream, she could only guess at what was happening.  It was nature's gift of grief.  Allowing her to cry when she could not.   

The rain can't hurt me now
This rain will wash away what's past

He rested his chin on the top of her head, and she was so close she could hear his heart beating, could feel his chest rise and fall with every breath.  In his arms, she felt content, secure in the belief that he loved her.          

And you will keep me safe
And you will keep me close
I'll sleep in your embrace at last

They swayed softly to music only they could hear, dancing romantically under the stars.  It was a moment she'd long been wishing for, and one she would never forget, their whole lives stretched out in front of them.  Her vision blurred, as though her eyes were filled with unshed tears.             

The rain that brings you here
Is Heaven-blessed!
The skies begin to clear
And I'm at rest
A breath away from where you are

I've come home from so far

It was becoming harder to breathe.  Squall was hugging her too tight, but she didn't mind.  There was only the need to treasure, savour each second with him.  She willed it all to seep into her memory and never fade.  His arms felt increasingly real by the second, and she could feel the fur collar of his jacket gently tickling her skin.  His smell enveloped her, a mixture of sweat, leather and aftershave, but the cool night's breeze carried the sweet scent of flowers.     

I don't feel any pain
A little fall of rain
Can hardly hurt me now

Loosening her hold on him, she leaned back in his embrace just far enough so that she could see his eyes.  They were a turbulent grey, swirling with unchecked emotion.  His ring glittered magically, reflecting the light of a thousand stars. 

And you will keep me safe
And you will keep me close
And rain
Will make the flowers...

He leaned towards her, his face inching closer.  She could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin.  Moving closer, and his face was next to hers, their breaths mingling in the night air.  He closed the last few centimetres, ending the dance, and kissed her, softly, sweetly, and gently.  And there was nothing after that… 

And rain
Will make the flowers...

Grow.