Author: Ammom PM
Takes place in real life, about three years after FFVII's game release. A mysterious cult believes that Seth is the real life Sephiroth, sent to guide them. Though he disblieves it, things that happened in the game, start happening to him...Rated: Fiction T - English - Supernatural/Drama - Sephiroth & Cloud S. - Chapters: 7 - Words: 21,150 - Reviews: 11 - Favs: 13 - Follows: 18 - Updated: 04-10-08 - Published: 08-18-07 - id: 3731195
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The arousal of low voices that echoed past him, and stolen glances fed Seth's irritation. Keeping clenched fists firmly in his trench coat fore-pockets, he tried to knock away the comments with a struggling smile.
Words such as 'wanna-be', 'obsession', and 'freak' caught the man's breath in his throat. Despite the fact that he'd endured similar harassment for almost three years now, Seth could never get used to it. He knew it shouldn't bother him. At least he could pretend not to hear them over the din of the crowd.
The main streets of New York were always cluttered with people, most busily talking on cellphones as they strode purposely with eyes fixated on the ground. Seth usually had to step aside to avoid a collision. He didn't like to draw attention to himself more than usual. How they could walk with eyes on the ground and not get into frequent collisions was a mystery to the man.
I should just cut it off, Seth thought suddenly, walking with ducked head and hunched shoulders. He had promised to not let it bother him, but there were only so many comments he could take.
Seth's long, gray hair, reaching just inches above the ground, and swerved with his step; often catching people in the face or on the side. But as he considered cutting it, Seth sighed. He loved his long hair. It felt nice against his neck and back, especially when water ran through it. It hung like a drape around him, and somehow brought the man comfort.
So what if it's like this, Seth told himself firmly, stepping lightly around a couple holding hands, standing hazily in the middle of the sidewalk. Stepping back into his long stride, he added, After all, I had my hair like this longer before that stupid game came out. It feels more like they copied of me.
This thought made Seth chuckle dryly to himself. Ever since the release of Final Fantasy VII, a popular Playstation video game adding to the colossal RPG series, Seth had been claimed a 'Sephiroth-wanna-be'. Despite his efforts to explain to his friends that his hair was like this long before the game was released, they seemed to doubt him.
No real surprise there, he thought with a grimace, nearly colliding with a man on a cellphone. The man threw some angry words his way before striding on with a dark look and a muttered comment about people not looking where they were going.
Seth paused to watch the retreating back. He could easily gaze over the waves of heads, being over six feet tall. Being tall does has its disadvantages, he thought almost comically, allowing himself a wide smile.
Turning, he strode up the slope, and lifted his gaze to the looming buildings. New York sky was often clouded with factory smoke, but today a vivid blue had managed to break through, and even the sun peaked up sheepishly. Cars flew by, and honks greeted people on the street. Seth braced himself as a Ford sped past, whipping back his hair. He tried to push the long strands down, but not in time.
Suddenly a teen boy, complete with baggy pants and shirt, though it was winter, and chains, turned around, saying angrily, "Yo, what was that?"
Sizing Seth up and down, the boy, roughly fifteen, tapped his two friends on the shoulders, adding, "Hey, get a-load of this."
Here it comes, Seth thought, secretly rolling his eyes.
Nodding at the stranger, the boy added haughtily, "Looks like we got a fan."
Most of the crowd continued on. Since it was only noon, there weren't many kids around. It wasn't like many adults played video games. They claimed that they just rotted their children's minds, and there were better things to waste their time with.
Well, maybe not quite that, Seth thought, sweeping over his teeth with his tongue. After all, what else did he do? Seth didn't work often, just on the weekends. In fact, he spent most of his days wondering the streets since he didn't have the car.
Seth's friends were always saying he should get up and do something with his life. Get a car, a decent job and apartment, and something more than a low-down life. But Seth liked his lowdown life. At least it wasn't filled with complications and commitment and bills.
An arrogant voice brought him back, making Seth blink at the words. A slightly younger boy standing behind the first grinned foolishly at him. He had a long nose with a single pimple at the end that made Seth's eyes keep drifting back to him. "Just another one of those dress-up obsessesors," he commented snottily, in a thick absent so fake Seth nearly gagged at its sound.
Noting the drawn back, disgusted look on the man's face, the third, hardly brushing four-seven, demanded angrily, "What? You think we don't know your type?"
Giving an inclination of his head, smile broadening on one side, Seth told him intriguingly, "You should respect your elders, boy."
Swinging his arms before him, the first boy told him firmly, "You ain't no elder of mine. You're just another one of those adults with no lives, thinking you're all cool cause you dress up like some stupid character."
Maybe you're right, Seth thought. Maybe I am. Maybe that's why I secretly haven't cut my hair, because I want to be someone besides who I am.
"Think what you want," Seth finally told them, and turning, began climbing up the hill again. The smile remained plastered to his face, as he hunched his shoulders against the wind's bitter touch.
"Hey, where do you think you're going?" came the thick accent.
"We're not done with you!" squealed the smallest.
"Best watch yourselves in the future boy," Seth told them, waving a hand over his head.
The three boys watched the retreating form unsurely. To them, he didn't seem like just some crazed fan. There was something else there. But then they blew it off, and returned to their own business.
From around a stack of crates, a cloaked youth with a scarf pulled up over his mouth, watched Seth's disappearing back as well. A hint of greed and want gleamed in his crystal blue eyes.