Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A.N.: These five drabbles are written as a Christmas gift-fic for Duvesa Twylyte! They're gloriously (read: failfully) un-beta'd, so excuse any glaring errors.

I hope you like angst for Christmas, Duv! XD

01: Blood

Genesis stared up at the bright summer sky, ignoring the blazingly hot Banora sun and the way it beat down upon his leather-encased body.

He tried – and failed miserably – to ignore the blood that was spattered on his otherwise pristine uniform, the blood that stained his already-crimson sword an even brighter red, the blood that was splashed on his face and matted his hair to his head.

The blood of his parents.

Genesis fought the strong urge to scream, and instead collapsed to his knees, biting his lip so hard that it too began to bleed.

What had he done?

02: Death

Zack stares up at the sky, foggily wondering if it's raining. It's hard to tell- he can't see very well, and he can't really feel anymore.

On second thought, he can. A ripple of agonizing pain shoots through his body, and he fights the urge to scream out.

Eventually, the spasm passes, and his once-again unfeeling body stops convulsing in the mud. A trickle of blood drips into his eye. He tries to raise a hand up to his face to wipe it away, but can't.

"Cloud," he hears himself sob.

What a pitiful way for a SOLDIER to die.

03: Hate

Lazard stared up at the green, smog-filled Midgar sky, hating every single filthy and polluted inch of it, angrier than he had ever been in his entire life.

Finally, after spending at least ten minutes at the windowsill, he wrenched himself away and went back into the main room of his apartment, where he sat down and began to quietly sob.

He knew that his rather childish reaction was completely irrational, that Rufus deserved the promotion to Vice-President more than he did, but deep inside, Lazard knew he was fooling himself.

The President would never acknowledge him as his son.

04: Frozen

Sephiroth stared up at the cloudy, gray sky, permitting the falling snowflakes to land on his face and shoulders. The beauty of the frozen sky, however, couldn't grip the equally cold man who gazed at it.

The SOLDIER looked down, away from the sky, only to be greeted by the still-twitching body of a Wutaian infantryman.

Displeased by the rather unaesthetic sight, the General turned back to the main battlefield, which was completely covered in bloody, trampled snow. Corpses were liberally scattered over the icy ground; Sephiroth was pleased to note that the overwhelming majority was Wutaian.

Smiling slightly, Sephiroth began the long walk back to base.

05: Bitter

Aerith stares up at the sky, reveling in the warmth and light cascading down from it.

She wonders why she was ever afraid of it; it's so beautiful.

Her only regret is that Zack couldn't be here with her. She quickly sends a prayer to the Planet on his behalf, hoping that wherever he is, he's safe and happy.

Smiling sadly, she wrenches her thoughts away from Zack. Even after all these years, she still wishes that he'd have at least replied to one of her letters.

Sighing, Aerith reminds herself that bitterness only hurts those who carry it about, and, forcing herself to smile, turns back to Cloud and Tifa.

A.N.: Well, this got kinda out-of-hand. The first three are 100 words exactly, the fourth seven words over, and the fifth was 111 words. _

Anyway, Merry Christmas, Duv!

As usual, feedback is appreciated.