Title: If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
Warnings: Self insert, Language, Violence
Story Link: http://piratesboard.net/fiction/viewstory.php?sid=182&chapter=25Series: Sector 8Summary: If it is Broke, the Turks probably had something to do with it
Notes: I don’t even know.
D:
If it ain’t broke don’t fix itI find the whole thing desensitizing. We try and make the best of every situation but it doesn’t always turn out that we’re the best at anything. We’re probably the worst in social lives and trying to make things work. These hands have seen too much blood and death to remember how to do anything constructive. And I think that’s why I cherish their company so much, at least in so far as that I am never alone. But we stare quizzically at it, whatever it used to be, it’s just not the same since we got a hold of it. And at some point I bet it had been useful to us – and it could have even been useful to the world.
But my nose scrunches up as I cross my arms. Hikou heaves a sigh out of her lungs and Mikari yawns as though we woke her up early.
“That wasn’t nearly as fun as I thought it would be.” Mikari says breaking out half an hour silence. “I suppose Weapon Research and Development just isn’t what it used to be.”
Hikou nods but does not offer much response as she kicks one of the pieces across the flooring. It crashes against the wall and breaks again the pieces flying every which way. She simply turns back around and gives us a glance that asks ‘Now what?’
“WRO probably would have had read the instruction manual.” I offer softly.
Hikou’s gaze turns to me in a fit and Mikari whirls around on her heels. I blink twice.
“What?”
“There were instructions?” Hikou snaps.
Mikari shifts her weight, “Well from the pieces I could probably put it back together. Then we can break it again!”
“Or…” I smirk, “We can box it all up and send it back to where it came from.”
“Then the WRO can deal with it.” Hikou adds.
Mikari starts to collect all the pieces utilizing her break materia. The tornado at first sends the metal pieces in every direction in the room, it clashes against itself and the walls barely missing us before she brings it all back together into the large metal crate we had fished it out of.
“That was a bit unnecessary.” I try not to be too scolding, I didn’t get hit – so I don’t really care.
Hikou scoffs, “It beats picking it up piece by piece.”
We pull the lid closed and Mikari makes a label that read ‘Return to Sender’. Useless trash is scratched out below. We smile, content that our work is done. But now we’re bored again and there’s nothing else to do.
“Now what?” Mikari half coos.
Hikou and I share a shrug. Rude joins us in the hallway, he shifts his tie and looks away. Reno’s in half a fit, I quirk and eyebrow.
“What did you do?”
Reno shakes his head, “Nothing important but…you know that helicopter that was supposed to go to the WRO?”
“The new one that you were supposed to be testing for mobility and effectiveness?” Mikari chimes in.
The red head nods.
“Just box it up.” Hikou summarizes.
“If you tested it,” I conclude, “And it worked, then it is now the WRO’s problem.”
Rude half snorts out a chuckle as he tries to imagine how they’re supposed to box up the burning wreckage of a forty million Gil helicopter.
“I’m thinking terrorism is the answer.” Reno decides, “Thanks ladies. Drinks are on me tonight.”
It will be a few days before we catch the repercussions for this. But in our defense one should probably not put so much trust into a bunch of hyper active children who have only been taught one thing.
chipper