Kingdom Hearts II
Colors of a General
Notes: The characters are not mine
and this ficlit is! It was heavily inspired by the prompt "Color"
at KHisLove. It takes place at an undisclosed time period followingI Don't Feel Enough for You to Cry.
It was not that hard to guess Sephiroth's favorite color, if one looked at him.
Zack had joked once that Seph always looked like he was in mourning, since all of his clothes were black. Sephiroth had responded in sarcasm that maybe he was; maybe he was mourning the death of common sense.
In truth, he liked black because it was commanding. And it made him stand out, but not in a ridiculous way. Would he have ever been taken seriously if he wore neon orange or green?
He had only added the touches of red to his coats after his death and resurrection. He had wanted a color that was somewhat flashy, and yet not absurd. And he would never be caught dead in a purely red coat. But just having it on the front edges and on his arms did not look so bad.
Sometimes he wondered if he had also wanted a bit of red in symbolism of the many lives he had taken in his frenzied state of mind. The demon wing decorations he had placed on his wrists spoke very clearly of the fact that he believed himself to be a creature of darkness. The black could now serve as an indication of that, as well.
Of course Zack objected to that. Seph was not a dark being. Zack always insisted that this was true, and not just what he thought. Seph was a good and kind man, in spite of what he thought of himself and what he allowed others to think. And someday, Cloud would know it too.
Naturally Sephiroth found that preposterous. Cloud hated him. That was not going to change. Though he himself had held similar feelings for quite some time, and they had only recently begun to ebb. He had never believed that his opinions would be altered, but it had happened. Now he had a great respect for his former rival. But to think Cloud would ever feel the same was a fantasy. To even entertain the idea was inane. He should change the subject.
When he thought of it, there were two other colors he heavily advertised---though he had no control over either of them.
One was silver. His hair's unusual pigmentation had forever been a mystery to himself and his parents. They certainly did not have such genes, and they had been bewildered as to what could even bring them about in a perfectly healthy young man. But he had never cared that much. He had been, and still was, proud of the long and luxurious locks that tumbled down his back. His father had disapproved, but had never restricted his son's desire to grow out his hair. And his mother had quite liked the results. Every now and then, he had allowed her to brush the tresses, knowing that she enjoyed it.
Though he had drawn the line at letting her style it.
The other hue he bore was a deep, royal blue. As he was sitting on the edge of one of the many cliffs at the Dark Depths, his wings were resting at his sides. The uppermost was half-folded, the gentle breeze moving the feathers back and forth. The lower two were spread on the rock, almost completely blending into it. Whether they were a curse or a blessing, they were here to stay. He had learned to make use of them. Maybe in some ways they complemented his form, instead of taking away from it.
They did clash with his green eyes, but that was the least of his concerns. He liked the color blue just fine, especially if it was a dark shade.
Now, if his wings werepink, on the other hand . . . he would be eternally disgraced. So, he mused dryly, he had to thank the judges for having that much pity on him, at least.
Slowly he began to push himself to his feet. He had spent enough time here already. It was time to go home.
Spreading his wings wide, he jumped off the edge of the precipice and half-floated to the ground below. A couple of dark feathers came free and fluttered to the ground in his wake, but he did not pay attention. He was already walking toward the lights of Hollow Bastion.