turn a blind eye
i hope you're happy now
i could never make you so
you were a hard man
no harder in this world
i'll share you with the one
who will mend what falls apart
and turn a blind eye
on the thief of your heart
She was unprepared for the blow, when it came. More than just finding her blind side, the rushing wave of water-magic seemed to fill her lungs, thick and swallowing her whole-- she was drowning in it, all her wind gone.
For a flickering instant of calm, Fuujin wondered how she had ever thought herself strong. Her eye stayed opened as the world tilted around her, watching her half-darkened view grow distant, till she could no longer see the sky.
Raijin would have been shocked and outraged-- if he had been conscious. She could just see him, a pile of moaning muscle, darkskinned face contorting in mute pain. He'd fallen first, and she'd known she could best them-- had to best them-- three to one, no matter. Quetzacotl was a rush, agonizing electricity along her veins, sucking out her energy but giving her an adrenaline buzz that almost made her laugh. And icy Shiva was no more than cold; she'd grown too used to cold to notice much.
But Siren-- Siren had caught her off guard. What had she to fear from a silence-spell? But the building crest of it had evaded her defenses, finding the vulnerable heart of her as sure as steam rising, or tides coming in. And, amazed and helpless before the rushing wave, she fell.
Struggling at least to regain her feet, to face her enemy upright, she saw their faces. Not a one of them looked-- victorious. There was only hollow worry in their eyes, nothing of triumph.
She wondered what they all were fighting for, that her enemies should not rejoice at beating her.
Dincht even looked as though he wanted to... reach out a hand, to help her up. Almost.
Arms wrapped around herself, Fuujin coughed, her breath returning. "Enough."
Leonhart looked perplexed for only an instant, then he, too, seemed to understand. He nodded wordlessly, and Fuujin felt her heart sicken in empathy. Few words, the both of them. Hard-learned lessons of silence... But the time was coming for talking, she could feel it, and that made her afraid.
"Where is Ellone?" Leonhart asked, his grey-storm eyes flashing like he already knew. She wondered if it were formality or courtesy to her that prompted him to ask...
And it occured to her, maybe for the first time, that not everyone was like the man she followed.
She bowed her head, saying the only word she could. "Seifer."
She couldn't watch the comprehension in Leonhart's eyes, as it dawned on him that now he would have to face his-- his-- Her mind stuttered on the concept of "lover," clenching her fists so hard her fingers ached. She couldn't protect Seifer any longer; she had been beaten. And fairly so.
Following him into the core of the trouble, she'd been blind-- he was cutting out his heart with his own gloved hands, and all she was doing was washing away the blood.
For the first time in a very long time, her eyelid trembled and she felt the peculiar sting of tears. More water, defeating her again. But she would not cry. Not here.
If Leonhart killed him, he would deserve it. It was no longer her place to try to stop him.
And if Seifer were to kill her, she would deserve it just as much. What kind of second-in-command was she, allowing him to fall this far? Suddenly recognizing that he was wrong seemed to sweep the ground from underneath her feet; she was weightless and empty, no longer knowing what to believe.
Dimly she realized her world was turning upside down.
Knowing the SeeD were watching her, she knelt by Raijin's side, unaccustomed gentleness in her hands as she shook him awake. He groaned. "Awww, man. They kicked the shit out of us, ya know?"
Her lips twitched. It was good to know he was all right. She nodded, unconsciously tracing the line of his bewildered smile. "Enough," she said again, and Raijin looked up at her-- and understood.
To her surprise, he didn't even say how sore he was, just swallowed it all, nodding up at Leonhart and his companions. "And Seifer?" He spoke like a child would speak of his father who has been lost in war, as if he thought Seifer were already dead. Nothing but quiet acceptance in his tone.
He was stronger in his simplicity than she had given him credit for. Maybe he was the most well-adjusted of all of them. Fuujin envied his peace, her hands tightening on his shoulders. How can you just let him go?
And how can I not?
She shook her head, wishing there were a simple way to answer his question. "Trouble," she whispered, trouble riding in on the tempest in Leonhart's eyes. Maybe Seifer was already dead... trapped too deeply in the sorceress' control. Maybe everyone knew that but her.
That puppet in there, dangling from Ultimecia's fingers, that was not the man they followed. Not our Seifer.
The hurricane in her chest found its eye, and she forgot to breathe.
Not my Seifer.
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