Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Snow Drift ❯ Crushed ( Chapter 17 )

Irvine Kinneas, now, Imari Karver sits on the bed in his bedroom, during the late hours of a Friday night in May. With a hand gripping his chin; a pout planted firmly upon his mouth, he stares hard at the clothing hung in his dressing cabinet. He's done this every other night since that mishap at the costume party last week. Since leaving the tribe, 4 years ago, he's been feeling kind of lonely. Being new in a neighborhood, and a place, he's found himself going back and forth to Shumi more than he thought he would.

Back then, when he'd asked to leave the Elder dearly regretted the idea of letting him go, but at the same time, he felt he had no power to keep the male there. So he let him leave. The tribe surprised the male with a very lively and celebratory party before his departure. They left the protected village and danced the night away, lighting fireworks and carrying on like their quiet lives were nothing more than a charade. It was a blast, and a punch to the heart when he knew he'd dearly miss them. When dawns early light came, Karver hoisted his small bundle of accumulated things onto a bird's saddle then climbed onto the animal's back, sad, but ready to go. It was then that Elder presented him with the clothing that he was wearing on the day the tribe found him. The elderly shumi bowed to him and told him that he would find his way if it were meant to be. Karver wasn't sure what he'd meant, but he took the gift and started away for the mountains.

Getting a home wasn't hard, but getting the right home was nearly impossible as they all seemed to be larger than he'd needed. But eventually he came to realize that the size didn't matter, so long as he had somewhere to live he was happy. Camping outside every night wasn't going to cut it forever. So in the town of Winhill far out on the edge of the village, is a medium sized home with two bedrooms, one bathroom- downstairs- a tiny kitchen that's about the length of a single wall and the rest of the downstairs space is the living room, where the bathroom and a single closet are located. Everything in the home is polished wood, the floor, the uncovered walls- all of it. Its cozy and a beautiful little home.

Decorated with pictures taken during his many trips back and forth from home to the Shumi village on his Chocobo, Shu. But those weren't the only locations framed on his walls. The Tribe hung there, landscapes that he's passed during deliveries. Timber fields, Balamb plains, Fisherman's ocean view is his favorite. He even snapped one of the area surrounding Winhill. But next to the bed is a picture of one of the most beautiful snowy days Winter Island has had; the drift of the snow is captured perfectly beyond the frozen scene, the flurries have a sweep diagonal but in the center is a little curl where the wind blew at the just the right time. Something about it just reminded him of what its like when trying to remember his past. A flurry. A snow drift.

Violet eyes blink back to reality when a soft bouncing on the bed caught his attention. His small bird, once the size of his palm... maybe seven inches tall, is now the length of his hair, 24 inches. Its little chirps and churls are now heavy and screechy.

"I know, I know. If I think too hard about it, it'll never come back to me." He says to the fussy animal.

But it has been coming to him, in little ways; at least, that's what he thought all the weird things about him were... flashes of who he used to be. Once, when helping with a delivery, he and Scout saw a monster but instead of reaching for the handmade bow and arrows they use for taking the creatures down, he held his arms up as if holding a large gun. It caught him off guard hard enough to get him sliced on the cheek by the whipping tale of a Glacial Eye. Pal didn't take it well and attacked the monster pecking and clawing at it with enough animosity to make a person wonder about the dangers of a bird. Thankfully he recovered from his stupor in time to take the creature down with Scout's assistance. The shumi asked him what happened but Karver could only say that it was another flashback.

Over the course of the four years there have been a few more things he would say, or crave to eat, however, none of it never jogged anything hard enough to bring back the person that's hiding, if there's a person hiding, beneath his skin. So another year, another many days within it and he eventually just stopped having them. Which is why he'd recently started staring at the clothes he'd hung so carefully in his dressing closet. The hanger's hook is resting on a little hook against the door so that the outfit sort of looks as if its standing against the door rather than is hanging. He kept trying to picture the man wearing them. He wanted to find out who he was, who he knew, if he were with anyone. Having his heart broken by the woman that he'd began to fancy after his first year in the home brought about a loneliness he's never felt before, and he wants it gone. He wants to be those people in Fisherman's: a woman, and a child at his side. A beautiful life.

"What would you like to do tonight before bed? Wanna sing? Wanna eat?"

The bird only hopped from foot to foot on the bed before tucking its head beneath a raised wing.

"Sleep, huh? Sounds good to me. I've got big plans for tomorrow." Standing, he closes the cabinet then returns to bed. Removing his pajama shirt he climbs beneath the covers wrapping an arm around the tired animal. "Goodnight Pal."

The bird made a sound before drifting off, only to re-dream the very pain that's been creeping through his body since that night.

...

It was eight twenty two in the morning when a woman stopped by Imari's place. The elderly woman had a big smile on her wrinkled face, and a load of pastries held by a basket resting on her arm. "I brought you some of those danishes you like so much, Imari."

"Aaaw, thank you Mrs. Manaji." He greets the woman with a peck to her cheek after pulling her in for a hug.

"Anything for you, lad; you know, my husband doesn't like to eat my baking any more- he has an irritable bowels when it comes to the sweet stuff."

Imari scrunched his face in distaste at the breakfast conversation but said nothing while returning to the stove to flip his omelet.

Mrs. Manaji helps herself to a cup of coffee and a seat at the table. The large bird dips its head to her for a pat which she lovingly offers. Imari often sees the woman over weekend mornings. He wasn't sure how it started, could be because he was new and on his first day in the home he nearly burned his kitchen down trying to cook chicken cutlets. This sad attempt promted to having the woman coming over some nights with food for him, or simply coming over with ingredients prepared to give a cooking lessons. And after two years of teaching and tasting from the woman, he can now hold his own in the kitchen.

"So, Mr. Karver, what's a young boy like you up to today?"

"I'm writing a letter."

"To whom." She sips her coffee.

"A girl I like, but, I need a woman's opinion on it." Walking the plate over to the table he sets a second fork down beside the plate, incase the elderly woman decides to help herself. "I don't want it to be cheesy or anything. I wanna get my point across and get good results out of it."

Smiling, Mrs. Manaji pats the man's hand gently. "You're twenty three years old, and very handsome; any woman would want a youngman as fine as you."

"She doesn't even notice me." Imari replies. Taking a slice from his eggs he chews it thoughtfully.

"You're kidding? Is she blind?"

"No. I don't think so, at least, I mean... I've been going outside to get my mail at the exact time she comes out to get hers and she's never once said hello."

The wispy laugh came from the old woman's throat. "Hyne bless you son." She laughs again. "Why not make the first move and say "hello" yourself?"

Imari shrugs. "I didn't wanna come off as too pushy, she's probably already caught on that I'm grabbing my mail when she does." Shaking his head he frowns. "She probably sees me as desparate; and no letter in the world will make a difference."

"Who is this girl?"

"Carissa Eckhart."

"Carissa- there's your first problem; my husband wrote me love notes, and that was many ions ago." She waves her hand through the air. "Its too old school, women today- your Carissa especially- they want a power taker, an assertive male."

Chewing a sweet pastry he nods. "I'm not sure if I can be that guy, though."

"Tell you what, the Westons are having a costume party at their mansion next week." Standing she grabs the wrap that she'd taken off when entering the home. "I happen to know that your crush is going as Alice from that movie. Why not dress as a character from the same? Its a good conversation starter."

"But I'm not invited." He turns in his chair then stands to see the woman to the door.

"Oh you're invited. My invite said 'plus one' and Evan has a bad hip, he can't come with me- not to dance anyway. So I'll invite you."

Thinking it over he grins. "You'd really do that for me?"

"I'd really do that for you." She grabs his chin giving his head a shake by it. "You're like the nephew I've always wanted."

Snickering he asks. "Why nephew."

"Because my son is an angel, why would I trade him for you?" She winks teasingly. "I'll call you on the day, get your costume so you'll be ready."

"Okay."

"Bye, bye dear."

"Bye." Closing the door he strides over to the table with pep in his step and a firmer appetite. "This is gonna be great; I can go right up to her and ask her out. I'll keep my nerves back by getting the sort of costume that covers my face a bit- not much- but a bit."

The bird chirped in response. Finishing his breakfast he puts the dishes away after cleaning them then marches upstairs to dress for the day. He has to get to the market because he's running out of food. After dropping off his groceries he then decided to take a walk around the area to think of what more he can say to the woman beyond "we have great taste in costumes". A little later after his walk, he mounted Shu and rode to Winter Island to help make some more deliveries. He's already done his work for the month carving this thing and that. He even made three special ones just on a whim: two Chocobo's and a lion, so finely crafted you'd swear the little brown carving were going to come to life and move around; only thing is that they're missing their eyes. He wanted to use some life, shadow, and water stones from the village to really give it some flare and individuality. One was for him, two is for the Shumi's, and three would be for Carissa if she agreed to go out with him. Giving presents isn't old school, is it? Although he questioned giving the woman the lion, but something about her last name just seems noble and proud like a lion.

Slipping a purple t-shirt over his head he slides an arm through the sleeve then brushes his hand down the wrinkles; kicking out of his pajamas and boxers he paces to the dresser then steps into a new pair of boxers and from the drawer, beneath his underwear drawer, he removes a pair of brown jeans. Once he's zipped, a quick glance in the mirror and he approves of his look. Imari then heads downstairs to grab his sneakers. He didn't bother brushing his hair, he's got it kept up in a nappy braid down his back, unable to really take care of it properly. The stuff grew like a weed, he even had it cut right up to the base of his neck... but over time it grew back like it were nothing.

"Are you coming with me?" He asks the bird.

Graceful, large, wings flap rapidly lifting the bird from its perch and it flies over to its owner ready to take its place upon the man's shoulder.

Snickering, Imari confides. "Its a boxing match everytime you come over and land shoulder first." Patting the birds head he says. "You've really gotten big. I wonder what kind of bird you are? I can't say that I've ever seen one like you before." He pondered getting a book from the library as he opens the door then steps out into the sunshine. He always loved the air in May.

The party came sooner than he had anticipated, he almost refused to go but Mrs. Manaji was not going to let him back down if he really felt strongly for this woman. But couldn't the elderly woman understand it from a man's point of how hard it is to say things to a woman? There's always that sense of failure looming, that she'll laugh- worst of all- she'll tell her friends and it will go from laughter to laughing stock. Maybe it was good that he was talked out of writing her a letter- or at least sending it, as he's written several letters and having read them over during the course of his waiting out the party he realized that they're kind of too much. They sound like the build up to a proposal and all he'd like are a few dates here and there.

So, 9:12 p.m., he stands in front of his long mirror looking himself over. The Mad Hatter stares back at him; adding, bucked false teeth to the look to complete it. Laughter can get to a woman too, right? The door bell rang and down the stairs he goes to answer it.

"Nice. You're a bee, right?"

"I'm a honey bee." Corrects the woman.

"Of course, my mistake." He laughs.

"I see you chose the Mad Hatter, very cute look on you, green compliments your eyes."

"But my eyes aren't-..."

Cutting him off she calls. "Let's go my dear, time is wasting... and this grandma wants to dance a little before her date ditches her."

"I promise I won't ditch you- for long." He adds as a joke receiving a playful pop to the arm.

...

The mansion is beautifully decorated in masquerade masks as large as they make them, and glass diamonds hang from here and there, gold curtains have been hung only to make some parts of the home known as off limits, though, you can clearly hear a few sneaky couples behind them making out in the dark the curtains provide. Long tables littered with the most delicious looking food are lining one side of the room; some of the dancers carry plates of tasty morsals around the dance floor so they can eat and don't have to stop moving to the up beat live music.

It all reminds Imari of something very familiar but he can't recall what or from where as he totters about the floor with the elderly woman, who hasn't let her age show one bit since they arrived.

"Don't be afraid to dip me, Imari. I won't brake."

Doing as she asks he laughs right along with the delighted woman who's straightened back up. "Don't look now, but the girl of your dreams is over by the punch bowl. Go on and give her an invite to a dance."

"Now?"

"No, when the music stops- yes, now." Releasing her grasp of his hand, she waves him away. "Now shoo, shoo."

Back straight, shoulders back, head high, Imari walks across the room over to the refreshments. Casually he grabs a glass and remembers what he'd planned to say and do. "Its nice to see similar taste in costumes." He says in a dry voice. Maybe he should get some punch. Turning, he grabs the ladel, pouring the bright yellow liquid into the glass.

"Hm?" Asks Carissa.

"You're Alice, from the movie?" He points to her clothing. "I'm the Hatter."

"Oh! Oh, yes. My son thought it'd be cute." She blushes.

Shocked by that, he says. "You have a son?"

Nodding the woman points him out on the dance floor. "He's visiting from college- freshman. Me and my husband were just thrilled to know that he's gotten himself a girlfriend and wants to settle down as an engineer. You wouldn't happen to know of any good places he might find a job, do you? I've noticed how handy you are at making things and fixing them."

Sunk, Imari's tone lowers; he can't believe that she's married- and with a kid in college to boot! How could he be so stupid? So blind. Hn. That's love for you. Or he should say a crush, he didn't exactly love her yet. Yeah, that will keep his heart from keeping him awake with tears tonight. Four years, alone. Wasted pining. What kind of life is that? A flash of that couple from F.H. went through his mind. He wanted his 'cute together' romantic, happy ending. And now its been shot to hell, his heart pieces wasted on a married woman. This is so embarrassing.

"Your son should move to Fisherman's if he's interested in fixing things. They have the best guys there for that sort of job."

"Oh wonderful!" She beams at having never thought of the place. "I'll be sure to tell him. And by the way, don't be a stranger, I've seen you every day getting your mail. We always seem to go out at the same time but you've never said "hello", I'd always assumed that you were shy."

"Nope. I'm not shy at all." He looks out onto the dance floor at the elderly woman who's giving him a thumbs up. His head shakes slowly causing her to comically slap a hand to her forehead.

"There's my husband, I've got to go. What's your name by the way?"

"Imari Karver."

"Well, its nice to meet you Imari. Say 'hi' sometime." Walking away she joins her husband for a drink out on the dance floor. Not knowing of the broken heart she took with her. But he'd managed to carry on. Returning to his date, he told Mrs. Manaji that Carissa was married and the woman held him close.

"You've still got me, nephew." Manaji gave him a nudge with her bony elbow.

"Yeah, let's mingle. Shall we."

"Let's shall."

It rained that night, after the party, Imari found himself sitting in the window of his home staring out at the rush of water. His head hurt, his heart hurt but mostly his head, though, it wasn't because of Carissa something about this picture seemed so familiar. The rain, as hard as it can be, coming down all around the home but beyond the rain and the dew, outside in it stands...

A loud screech from Pal alerted his attention. The bird had made a noise because of a boom of thunder followed by a bright flash of lightning took the serene wet sky into a dark forbodding place.

"Ahaha, you're afraid of a storm but you'll attack a monster head-on." Shaking his head he moves away from the window. "I'll never understand you."

The fussy animal seemed to calm down when receiving a pat on the head. "Come on, let's get some sleep. I just want this night to be over."

...

At the Saber home. They're getting ready for bed but for some reason Mrs. Saber can't keep her mind from wandering back to the man that her husband was speaking to at the refreshments table. He looked so very familiar, like someone she had gone to school with at Galbadia. He couldn't be, though, Irvine Kinneas died four years ago. It must just be some weird coincidence. But, damn, it'd be a big coincidence.

June 4th 2014.

Imari, whistling as he waits, stares out at the glassy ocean before him. He's fishing. Pal is seated behind him on the other bench built into the boat, its sharp eyes are glaring out over the water as its planning on doing a little fishing of its own. Imari recovered completely from his long time crush, he could always love again, right?

"How are they catching fish?" He asks the bird when seeing an oldman pull up a catch laughing and cheering for himself. "Maybe we're in the wrong spot."

A few screeches from the bird it lifts up into the air then dives beneath the wavey water, popping up with a fish in its beak to land back on the boat.

"Sweet. We'll eat good tonight with you here."

The bird chirped at him before digging into its catch.

"Oh then don't share," He waves it off. "I'll just... I'll go buy some fish." Grabbing the ores he begins to row the boat back to the dock.

Imari is on vacation. He figured he could use a nice fishing trip and relaxing stay in a hotel for a while to clear his mind. He was also kind of hoping to see that cute little kid again. The kid had been carrying a stuffed clown with him and since his love interest blew up in his face, he wanted to give the wooden lion to someone who would like it more. The Shumi's have the twin to the Chocobo he'd kept for himself. Besides, a lion is always the favored attraction at the circus. It was strange, the wooden lion, he always felt so calm and serene when looking at the thing. The Sculptors were out of water stones, and he had to use a wind stone for the eyes of the lion instead; and the strange clear blue hue of the stone had a hidden gray color in back of it. He could almost swear he's seen those beautiful eyes before.

Climbing from the boat he looks at his gluttonus best friend with hands on hips and a cocked head. "Are you planning to stay there and eat? Or can I carry that to the hotel for you, your highness."

Taking one last bite, the bird holds the dead fish between its talons then flies beside his owner back to the hotel.

...

"You are aware I'm gonna kill you Seifer." Threatens Squall taking a battle stance with a wooden sword as his weapon.

He, Seifer, and Zell are at the gym. The two gunbladers are about to do battle for the second time in a long time since Seifer took it upon himself to wake him up early that morning with a butcher knife at his throat. The scuffle was of thrown fist and pillows, while the madman sliced and slashed at the air attacking him. The scuffle lasted for fifteen minutes before Squall could finally bust the blond in his mouth, giving him a split lip and possible loose tooth. But Squall wasn't completely angry about the challange, more of the fact that Seifer couldn't just wait he had to attack him in his own home only for the bastard to have to sit down to breakfast with him and Kait while they waited for Quistis to come over to babysit. Rivals, the only thing they're good for is letting off steam because they allow you to go far with them just so they can show what they've got. And for Seifer, he'd better hope its a lot because he's set to kill. He was having a wonderful dream about himself and Irvine only to have the malicious laugh of the ex-knight pull him from his sleep and have the the gleam of a knife in the rising sunlight from the window cast a nasty flare in his eyes.

"Let's keep this clean." Says Zell.

"I can't wait to show you my two sword techniques Leonhart, its even better with the real things but wood will have to do for now."

Squall could imagine that Seifer had some wood; the male sometimes would have to hide an erection due to the adrenaline rush of nearly getting filled by Squall dozens of times in the past. Fighting can do that to you. Its never sexual and never would be. Simply something that rivals understand.

"Rules?" Squall asks.

"None."

"Figures."

Turning his head as though he were watching a verbal tennis match Zell rolls his eyes to their bickering. Hand raised like he's about to release drag racers he lowers it steadily saying. "Aaaand... fight!"

Seifer's strong arms whirled the two wooden swords through the air over his head like they were connected as a naginata and without warning one of them shot out aiming for Squall. Just as he moved his mock blade to brush it out of the way the blond was on him like a shark smashing his fist into his face sending him staggering back a step before he caught his balance. Licking blood from the corner of his mouth he growls before launching from his kneel into a full assalt. His sword swung downward then back up only to be dodged by a leaned back which then had to bend as the sword sliced through the air lower by the waist. Straightening Seifer slices his own blade through the air at his rival, who ducked and popped back up to stab him in the chest with the tip of his sword.

"Point, Squall!" Shouts Zell, who's watching from the seat of exersize equipment.

"Whose side are you on, Dinky?" Mutters Seifer landing a few good whacks to Squall's shoulder. Recovering his other sword he really brings on the heavy.

"I'm just watching." Defends the shorter blond. Hearing a phone ring, he gets up from his work out to grab it. "Hey Squall, your phone's ringing."

Grunting as he fends off another attack he asks. "Who is it?"

"I don't know, I've never seen the number before."

"Then its probably some idiot selling something, just delete it."

"You sure?" He looks over the message. "To whom this may concern, I think I may have..." The phone went dark. "Crap, your battery died." Shrugging, he drops the phone back into the back. "Hey you guys, Ma thinks we should have a beach party- she wants to make paella."

"Alright."

Seifer who's now getting his licks asks. "When is it, I have a mission one of these weeks?"

"Tomorrow, but we have to get some seafood at Fishermans market."

"Okay." The two say in snyc.

Zell could already taste his mother's cooking again. Its been a while. He's thinking about spending some much needed alone time with the woman some day. Between being an instructor at Garden and still taking missions, he's been busy. Besides, he doesn't wanna miss another day away from someone he cares about after what happened to Irvine. Maybe he should visit him as well. He's got a lot of exciting new stories to tell the man- well teen since he never grew up with them. Sometimes he could swear, though, that he hears the cowboy laughing at his comments, like he might still be alive.