Tomorrow

Final Fantasy VIII

Written by Miki McLay (aka Crack-Anne Of Avonweed)

Chapter One- Foreboding

The sun shone through the glass-paneled hallway walls like a stairway to heaven, which, to Selphie, it was. It was the first sunny day in weeks. Happy tappity-taps reverberated through the empty corridors as Selphie innocently skipped her way to her dorm room for the first time in two weeks, thanks to an assignment which was successful.

Life couldn't get any better, she thought. Happiness was reflected in all the facets of her soul. And she could see all the birds and trees bathed in glorious sunbeams.

Looking away, she turned to her door with ever-familiar signage upon it, blocky wooden letters spelling 'Selphie' upon a 'too-cute' painted panel of wood.

She stopped, and fumbled for the lanyard around her neck, keycard attached. Finally, she grabbed it, and swiped the card through a slot. The door slid open with smooth grace, and she stepped inside, surveying the room with approval, relishing the way the scent of her jasmine incense and rose oil still lingered in the air, the way cheerful daisies and calming lavender were still in a vase on a bedside table, the way the sunlight filtered through the wooden venetians, everything.

She flopped onto her bed, and couldn't help bouncing up and down a little with glee. Sir Laguna, Mr. Kiros, Mr. Ward and Sis were coming tomorrow, as a surprise for Squall's birthday. Tomorrow's gonna kick ass! she thought.

Tomorrow. It's a strange word to use. You can't ever predict the fact that there'll be a tomorrow. Maybe there will be. Maybe life will continue exactly as it has for as long as you can remember. Maybe it'll be no different from yesterday. You might forget it.

But what if tomorrow never came?

What if tomorrow changed your life forever?

What will you do tomorrow?

Squall felt thankful. Lunch break, thank Hyne, he thought as he hurriedly got up, seeing the face of the clock. Cid, if he heard or sensed his ease, did not stir from his task.

The door swung open as he stepped out, and took the elevator to the first floor.

His footsteps, across time, hadn't changed much. To most, it had changed from a faceless cadet, to object of supreme admiration. But the person behind hadn't changed much over the last almost-twenty-five years of his life. Not much.

His birthday was tomorrow. He barely could believe he was going to be only twenty-five. It felt like he'd lived forever, and seen all the sights the world could possibly offer. But he enjoyed it anyway. Life with Rinoa and all his other friends was good.

Footsteps resounded through the halls, ten years of it guiding him, until he reached the Quad. He stepped into the roofless area.

Looking around, he saw Selphie, Irvine, and Quistis grouped in a patch of grass, amidst forget-me-nots and a butterfly. Irvine was on his back, idly inviting the butterfly onto his finger. He smiled slightly at the déjà vu. Quistis sat with Selphie casually talking about the plans for the next Garden Festival. Rinoa flicked through a copy of some magazine he didn't recognize. Zell wasn't there yet.

He walked over to them, and was greeted by plentiful waves and the angry grunt of the cowboy as the butterfly took off in a flutter of white wings.

"Damn!" he muttered, watching the butterfly. It danced within the air, before vanishing from sight as it flew away.

He looked up. "Oh, hey Squall! Gee, when did you get here?"

Selphie rolled her pretty eyes. "Gee, Irvy, you're smart. Sharp as a circle."

Confusion graced Irvine's features as he said "But… circles aren't sharp! What the hell..?"

Everyone laughed.

Zell, overhearing their conversation as he arrived, commented, "Yeah, Irvine takes an hour and a half to watch 'Sixty Minutes!'"

Irvine raised a leg to kick Zell. He'd kick Sefie as well if she wasn't a chick. But he had to settle, and so his leg flew straight at Zell's ankle with deadly aim.

Zell yelped, and grabbed his ankle. "Oh, piss off, Irvine! I was just kidding!"

Irvine snickered. "And a big hello to you too, Zell."

Rinoa tossed her magazine to her side, and skilfuly weaved her finger's through Squall's gloved hands, waving to Zell with the other. Squall smiled a little.

The argument continued for a little while, snippets of exchange floating away. One could hear the heated, smartarsed comments from far away.

"You fell out your family tree and hit every branch on the way down!"

"Your IQ matches your bra size!"

"Pumpkin head!"

"You suck yourself!"

The girls cringed, and in unison said "That's gross, Irvine!"

He smiled, and tipped his hat towards them. "Part of the occupation, girls. I have to be."

Rinoa turned to Selphie. "So, like, what band do ya reckon we'll have at the dance?"

Selphie shrugged. "I have no idea! I was thinking either The Circle, or maybe Moodring."

Quistis nodded. "Well, what about hiring Rydia? She's such a good singer."

They got into a deep discussion of singers and bands to hire, meanwhilst Irvine and Zell, ever-juvenile, had discovered Rinoa's abandoned copy of 'Dolly', and were completely engrossed in flipping though it, checking out all the women photographed, focusing on their chests in particular. They were together playing a game Irvine had invented awhile ago.

"Real..."

"Fake, fake, real..."

"Real, fake - Hey, look, Zell! One of each!"

Zell stared. "What the hell?"

Rinoa noticed her issue of 'Dolly' being treated as such. "Hey! Gimme that back!" Her swift hand, in one deft movement, snatched the magazine from Zell.

Irvine got up. "Well ladies, since my fun's been ruined, I'm in need of a little sustenance."

"If you mean food," said Selphie, "go for it."

Irvine began walking off. "I shall return."

Zell leapt up. "Yeah, I gotta go to the library." He realized the implications in the comment, and tried to shoot his best 'Don't you dare!' look around the group. Irvine almost shut up, apart from one comment.

"What? Ya gonna go study female anatomy with the librarian chick?"

Zell's expression contorted in a rage. "Why you little…"

A/N: Thanks for bearing with me in this chappie. Don't worry; the story will get more entertaining as time goes on. I just had to use the first chapter to build up the feeling of the approaching storm, so to speak. By the way, the 'real-fake' thing Irvy does with Zell is from Becker. You know, the episode where Bob's watching TV or something and playing that game, and eventually he says to Jake 'Hey look! One of each.'

You might be able to tell from the summary that eventually, this will be a tragedy story. It's based, and in honor of, 9-11, and the Bali bombings.