Locked Inside : Revisited
Summary – (AU) Squall has been waiting for the long weekend to arrive, but after something goes awry after his last period history test, will he and another unfortunate student be able to even get out of the locked-up Balamb High?
Disclaimer – I do not own anything from Final Fantasy 8, this disclaimer will apply to any future chapters as well.
Author's Notes – In case if you're not familiar with any of my works, Locked Inside was the first fic I ever posted on this site and after nearly three years of its original debut, I've decided to rewrite it. Why? Because after three long years of writing, I've gained just enough perspective and skill to know that I can do better. But just to clarify things, the plot and premise will remain wholly intact, just the wording, flow and interactions will be smoothed out and refined furthermore, rather than making constant edits on the original. Speaking of that, the original will remain on the site untouched.
Here we go again!
Chapter I – Long Weekend Anticipation
'BEEEP! BEEEP! BEEEP! BEEEP-'
Squall Leonhart awoke with a jolt at the sound of his alarm clock. Slamming the button responsible for the clock's infernal buzzer, he groaned. It was like this every weekday morning with no alternative – snoozing through first wasn't an option.
Shucking off the covers reluctantly, he got up and hazily walked towards the room's door on the left. The calendar tacked on to it told him that today was Friday, more specifically the Friday before the long weekend. He felt a little less agitated now; it meant that he wouldn't have to hear the ear-splitting wail of the alarm for three days, a small victory in his books. He trudged off in the opposite direction and circled the bed to turn off the said noisebox on the nightstand on the bed's right.
As of late, whether he admitted to it or not, Squall had started to find himself looking increasingly forward to the long weekend just like the majority of the other students at Balamb high school. Not for anything of the typical teenage fare like partying per se, but for the elusive chance to hole himself up in room and catch up on a few things his hectic schedule caused him to neglect recently. Sleeping was indeed one of those things among others.
After he succeeded in turning off the preset alarm, Squall adeptly walked past the bed and to his door, opened it and went into the bathroom adjacent to his room. Following a quick toothpaste-encrusted scrub through his teeth and the usual weekly shave, he briefly peered at his own reflection. The crystal-clear mirror showed his seventeen-year old body in all its glory; messy, chocolate-brown hair, stormy-blue eyes and a somewhat muscular medium-size build, all conveniently clad in navy-blue pajama bottoms.
In assessment of his current as-tidy-as-it-gets appearance, Squall decided to take a quick shower. Twelve minutes later, post-shower, he dressed himself in a white, long sleeve shirt with a single dark-blue stripe down each separate sleeve, along with his favorite pair of non-descript black leather pants and adorned his neck with his signature Griever necklace.
Having nowhere to go but down, he proceeded to head downstairs towards the kitchen near the foot of the steps. Once inside the alcove-like room, a surprise got him off guard as a bright orange note on the fridge caught his eye. Evidently curious with this anomaly, Squall found himself plucking it off the fridge and reading it before he consciously knew it.
Squall, I have to leave for the long weekend for that meeting in Esthar. I got a call this morning from Kiros, and he told me that the meeting was bumped up to tomorrow. I won't be back until Monday night.
Love, Dad
P.S – I took the car so I could make it time to catch the next train, so you'll have to take the bus. Sorry!
"-Looks like the weekend just got better." he murmured near-silently to himself as he opened the fridge to pluck out something quick and edible to eat and to take out the lunch he'd previously packed for today. He eventually settled on an apple and inhaled it half a minute later. The bus came much earlier than usually strolled out of the house so the idea of a proper breakfast was tossed out the window as fast as he was currently backtracking up the stairs again, silently cursing the short-notice his goof of a father gave him.
Once he was up the stairs, he switched to silently cursing those meetings of his. It never failed to magnify the old man's cheerful and clumsy nature, the latter being a more prominent augmentation as he vividly remembered the last ruckus his father had caused while looking for some cue-cards which, by the way, ended up being in his back pocket all along.
Following the small trek down the long hallway to his room on the furthest door to the left, the teenager hastily put the remainder of the things he needed for school in his backpack at the foot of his bed. But just as he was about to leave the room, something seemed to be picking at him at the back of his mind.
Then it came to him by looking at the calendar for the second time this morning. He crouched on the floor, grabbed the dark handle of the Revolver case from under the bed and pulled it out into clear sight and systematically checked to see if the gunblade was inside. After confirmed that it was, he closed the case again and took it with him alongside his backpack to go back downstairs.
Today was the second Friday of the month and it meant that for a select number of people, who had a spare at first period in their schedule, that spare was replaced by the newly-instated self-defense and weaponry class. And needless to say, Squall was one of the elusive students who managed to survive the hoards of waivers and permission papers and signed up for the hybrid class, which consisted of learning self-defense techniques using weapons on every other Friday.
However, despite the class's syllabus, the teenager didn't sign up for the self-defense portion of the course outline at all. He was already well-versed and very skilled in that area; he simply utilized the class to get in some more practice time in. The downside to that line of thinking was that nobody was quite at his level and just about the only one who was happened to be his rival for as long as he could remember, Seifer Almasy, the stereotypical antagonist down to the whole 'arrogant captain of the football team' shtick. Squall could have easily gone into litanies on all the psychological, emotional and physical crap he put him through throughout the years but he chose not to – he still had a bus to take.
After scrambling to shut and lock the door with all of the stuff he had in hand, Squall made it just in time to catch the decrepit bus he rarely took. As he moved along the aisle, the stares of people who probably wondered why he was there started to grate on his nerves, but he didn't respond to the stares however. He simply masked this by keeping a stoic, icy look on his face until he managed to find an empty seat at the very back. There, he skillfully arranged it so that the remainder of the seat's space was covered with his case and backpack.
If he was going to be forced to be here, at least in would be in solitude.
Following the thirty minute bus ride and a quick trip to his locker in the main hallway to swap a few things, Squall reached the gym by following the usual route of going all the way down the hallway and around the left-hand bend until the second door to the right.
Inside, he spotted the usual crowd of classmates, minus the always fashionably-late Seifer, Zell Dincht, Irvine Kinneas, Quistis Trepe, a vaguely familiar black-haired girl and another dozen students whose names escaped him at the moment. Today however, there was an additional student not yet seen before in the crowd – one short, brown-haired, green-eyed girl with nunchakus in hand, grinning ear-to-ear as soon as she saw him. It was the perpetually-hyper Selphie Tilmitt who had just peeled herself away from the crowd and was now coming towards him.
He sighed under his breath. '…Here's a headache waiting to happen.'
"Hi Squall!" Selphie chirped happily, "I decided to take this class after all, like you suggested! I'll bet it'll be loads of fun!"
'-Like I suggested? It was more like overhearing me talk. Even that sounds ridiculous.'
"Whatever."
After blowing off Selphie, Squall disappeared into the guys' changing room. Walking into the room, there were several people from changed already. He paid them no heed knowing all too well that they were the football team's offensive end and a part of Seifer's circle of close acquaintances. He made the mistake of looking at them funny during the S.D class two weeks and it was not a mistake he wanted to repeat. Period.
Squall took off his necklace and placed it neatly inside his bag, followed by his long-sleeve shirt before he swiftly put on his Balamb High gym shirt, his bare stomach left uncovered for only a few mere seconds. The gym shirt was just a simple white T-shirt with a small version of the school's logo on the right side of the chest. After he did the same for his leather pants by switching them for plain black shorts, he realized that apparently, football players were a tame species when no eye contact is made with them. Fascinating.
Right after his minor discovery, he put away the clothes in his bag, put that same bag in a locker, picked up the Revolver case yet once more and quickly reappeared in the gym. The morning bell had just ringed as he had just done so.
The morning announcements started blaring about useless upcoming school events and other things that did not concern him so Squall simply tuned out the noise in his mind, unsheathed his Revolver and started practicing basic techniques until the speaker's sound had stopped and the teacher's sound had replaced it. He was taking attendance.
"Seifer Almasy." Mr. Janis, an average-sized man with short black hair, stated with no emotion what so ever. Only silence was heard. There was no 'Here!' or 'Here.' to be heard.
"Nevermind, I'll just mark him late, Hyne knows he'll pop in here any minute now…" he quipped before continuing.
"Zell Dincht."
"Here!" Zell said loudly, jumping into the air with his hand extended at the same time as if he wanted some kind of attention. …Or maybe it had more to do with not forgiving the teacher for marking him absent even though he was there last week. Either way, attendance proceeded this way until the instructor mechanically recited the last name on the list.
"…And finally, Selphie Tilmitt."
"I'm here!"
"Okay, today's schedule will be a bit different than normal, since there is another student who has joined our numbers, I will have to take the time to make sure that she catches up. So, the rest of you will be left to your own devices until Miss Tilmitt over here, has caught up completely. But-"
"We can't leave the gym. Unless if class is finished. Or else we will be sent to the office if caught doing so." Seifer interrupted in a droning, mock-authorative voice after entering the gym late, as usual, upon hearing the first bit. "Am I right Instructor, or what?"
Squall pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. 'Maybe I am going to get that headache…'
It was times like these that he so sorely Seifer would shut up for once. Then again, seeing as Mr. Janis's greatest pet peeve was when he gets beaten at finishing his own sentences, especially ones about school rules, it wasn't likely that the blond would pass up the opportunity to get under his skin.
"Seifer, get dressed now, and if you're not quick about it I'll have you do 20-"
"Laps, instructor? Gee, how did I know you were going to say that? No wait, maybe you'll have me do 20 women! That'd be a nice switch."
Seifer turned around momentarily to smirk at the black-haired instructor just before retreating into the boys' locker room; knowing that he achieved thoroughly to piss him off completely, especially when he heard students laughing hard at the teacher's crimson face of embarrassment.
In a nutshell, today's self-defense class was so far, in Squall's opinion, relatively boring. Up until now, Mr. Janis had been juggling most of his time trying to get Selphie caught up and trying to control Seifer for once. When he appeared to be failing at either task, Squall had a very good inkling that the rest of the class would end up being left to their own devices all period. He grumbled; one can only practice slashing air so many times without falling sleep with complete boredom.
Stifling an errant yawn, Squall set down his blade for a moment and took a break from the monotony of practicing base-level techniques. Looking over at the other side of the room, he took note of how exasperated the teacher's face looked while running back and forth between the two aforementioned people. He didn't feel any pity for him though.
'Only an idiot would keep Seifer in class for this long. -Scratch that, only a whole bunch of idiots would keep him in school for this long without expelling him. Whatever. It's their problem, not mine.'
A bit later, when Squall was on the verge of falling asleep after repeating simple defensive techniques after what felt like the thousandth time, the instructor dismissed the class early because he had to bring Selphie to the infirmary. She'd accidentally whacked herself hard on the forehead with the other end of her nunchaku and rendered herself unconscious.
However, despite the fact that they were let out, Squall continued practicing more intensely instead of changing into his regular clothes and leaving class like all of the other students seemed to be doing, hoping to get the most out of the remaining ten minutes of class by practicing more advanced techniques, thoroughly taking advantage of the fact that no one was there to gawk at him.
Almost as if it the additional freedom had magical properties, it had effectively cured him of his prior daze, akin to what a breath of fresh air would have done to somebody who'd been stuck inside a stuffy room for the longest while.
'Finally, I can do what I took this class for and not be ridiculed for a change.'
He worked himself in a heavy sweat until two minutes before the bell. Then it all stopped. It had all ended the very moment where Seifer strode up to him with the usual smirk on his cocky, arrogant face. Apparently, Squall wasn't the only one left after all.
"Hey Puberty Boy, didn't you hear? Class was dismissed, or are you just looking for some real practice?" he jeered, slashing the air downward with his Hyperion, then bringing it back up for a moment to poke Squall's throat like some kind of threat.
'Real practice? Don't kid yourself Seifer, your idea of practice is a glorified version of aggravated assault.'
'…Still, it's been awhile since I've sparred with anyone-'
'-I can't believe I'm even considering this. What am I, twelve?'
As the on-going battle inside his head raged on, Squall remained silent, contemplating the pros and cons of the offer a bit more. In the end, this only achieved to make Seifer impatient.
"Will you give me an answer already Leonhart? I don't have all day, you know."
Apparently, he wanted a quick and direct response, not an hour of meditating over a simple question. At least at this point, Squall had already made a final verdict in his head.
Originating from a somewhat loose, natural stance, he started to take several steps backwards, still facing Seifer with an eerie stare, blue-grey eyes always focused on the tall blond's greens, creating an adequate space between him and his adversary. Then he stopped with his Revolver still loosely at his side, gripping the hilt tighter than usual.
Without using a single word, Squall nodded at him, signifying his answer. Although he remained terse, it was evident through his stance and glare that he did not feel like losing to him.
'You're not going to win this, not if I have anything to do with it.'
The bell had actually rung not too long after Squall had distanced himself from Seifer, but neither really cared about it though; the anticipation of battle was too tempting to pass up.
Squall started the match on the offensive, attempting to strike at his opponent's upper body to work through the lack of internal focus stemming from his deep life-long resentment towards him. The pair of blades eventually clashed, emanating tiny sparks through force, slowly edging closer to his rival's face until Seifer put more effort into his counter.
Hoping that his weight would throw him off, Squall quickly sidestepped to halt the counter against Seifer's blade. As previously predicted, he stumbled a bit, and enabled Squall to loop around him to get at his backside, but Seifer was one step ahead. He swiftly turned and blocked the attack at an upward angle, causing Squall to break off his attack.
In desperation not to give Seifer the upper hand, he stepped back and quickly charged forwards on the offensive yet again. This time, Squall had his blade more horizontal than before, it seemed to prove useful since Seifer was trying even more to keep even more sparks at bay and away from his face.
However, this advantage did not last long when the lack of traction from the gym's floor started to make them slide. Not wanting to lose ground, the pair of combatants both edged away from each other, somehow managing to switch sides; they'd both tried to catch the other off-guard by identical high attacks– turned slide movements by implied effort among both parties.
The force of the movement almost made both Squall and Seifer to slide nearly to the opposing sides of the gym, but Squall remedied this lack of friction with a quick turn of a heel, meanwhile Seifer had achieved the same result by lowering himself a bit and using his free hand to stop the sliding motion.
After all movement stopped, the two teenagers quickly eliminated the large gap between them by dashing towards each other, upon confrontation, Squall attacked Seifer by an underhanded blade movement, thus used for countering his rival's over-head swooping attack, countless swerving techniques and sidestepping in circular, dance-like fashion followed shortly thereafter in attempt to gain supremacy.
When Seifer decided to swiftly escape the repetitive tight confinement of side-steps and swerve-like motions, he spun backwards to create room to get out, Squall seized this chance to deliver a strong, downward swiping motion to move the Hyperion blade out of the way, causing Seifer to look down in distraction for a second. Then, Squall acted on impulse to take advantage of the situation and dashed towards him, slashing forward.
Unfortunately for him, he did not connect. Seifer ran behind him to avoid the blade and caused him to lose a split-second as he stumbled forward, since he slashed with far too much power through the much-lighter gym air and not his desired opponent. As a smart precaution, Squall turned around quickly to make sure that the blond did not gain any more leverage by means of a sneak attack.
Oddly enough, instead of being face-to-face in a situation of close-range attack, all that Squall saw was Seifer taunting him with Hyperion slung over his right shoulder, free hand extended, moving his middle and index fingers back-and-forth in unison with a smirk, beckoning him to come over to his side of the gym to fight some more.
'Seifer, your arrogance is going to cost you your life someday, or better yet, the match. Stupid idiot…'
The pair advanced into a series of attacks, moving back and forth between hits. This time, Squall was on the defensive, blocking, while Seifer was delivering strikes in a fencer-like stance, height playing a key factor. After the third connection between blades, Squall regained some leverage as he swung his Revolver to the side, making his opponent's gunblade recoil backwards while slightly hitting him in the chest with the broad side of his own blade.
Complete leverage favored Squall as he perpendicularly slashed towards his opponent's head, leaving the blond very vulnerable when his own blade was inching near his forehead from vain defense. Seifer had been forced to lower himself in an awkward position in order to escape bathing in blood from his own blade. Defeat seemed inevitable for him. Or so Squall thought.
Seifer smartly sprung upwards, using the force in his long legs to act like a spring, which was quite an impressive feat in itself, then he quickly backed off and went straight back into battle with two strong swipes, catching Squall slightly off-balance. But Squall came right back when he overdid it on the third swipe, staggering just like he'd done earlier by not connecting with anything when he had intelligently ducked. Not knowing what to expect, Seifer just carelessly lashed his blade back out from previous recoil to keep his opponent away as he regained posture. This caused Squall to jump backwards to avoid the assault.
Both took a moment to catch their breath at opposite sides of the gym.
'He's actually playing fair? That's a switch. Maybe I'll reward him by putting him on his toes.'
As both parties stopped their momentary rest, Squall gave his hardest effort and went all-out against Seifer; he swiped the air hard in fury, and then connected with his Hyperion on his second slash by lashing back his Revolver from the recoil caused from the first. Then he unleashed a blitz of slashes to his blocking adversary's blade soon after, leaving a wide-eyed Seifer nearly defenseless in shock. He hadn't anticipated this kind of fighting from Squall, not now, not ever.
Seifer however, did manage to cut the flurry of attacks after hooking his blade out of the way when the brown-haired teenager tried to deliver a strong hack, then he proceeded to drive Squall away from him by swiping Hyperion in his general direction, causing Squall to jump sideways and away from him altogether.
The match appeared to have approached its end when Squall twirled his Revolver once to gain momentum, and then started to run yet again at Seifer preparing for the final stretch of the match. Seifer also started to run towards Squall, but at a much slower pace. At the back of his head, Squall knew something odd was going on.
And indeed, the blond did have something up his sleeve. Instead of clashing blades as he approached him, he unleashed a surprise Fire attack, making Squall clatter to the floor along with his Revolver. Even though the gunblade did help block most of the illegal spell, Squall found it especially hard to get up quickly. Just before he managed to fully get up however, he noticed that Seifer had his gunblade propped upward, ready to strike and Seifer himself had an never-before seen maniacal glint in his usually-smug eyes.
Squall's internal thoughts buzzed at this glint, 'What the hell are you doing…'
Eyes widening in shock and his body paralyzed at the worst moment, the blade came down and diagonally sliced the skin near his right eye across to the other side of the bridge of his nose. A line of his blood splattered onto the gym floor as the bloodied gunblade left his face. All rational thought instantly left Squall as the blood dripped off his face, staining his shirt and the floor.
'You think you can get away with this? Think again.'
On his knees, he slowly turned his head to stare at the aggressor who gashed his face a split-second ago, got up on his feet by sliding sideways, gained power by dragging the Revolver on the gym floor, causing massive sparks and then, full of anger, hate, and fury, he mercilessly slashed Seifer's bewildered face, giving him an identical gash across his nose.
The instant the blade left his face, Squall felt an unprecedented amount of satisfaction as he saw his rival's blood spill onto the floor and mixing with his own. Breathing heavily after using the last of his energy, he collapsed; an unconscious Seifer on the blood-bathed ground was the last thing he saw, almost everything tinged in crimson red.
Several hours later, Squall had awoken in a completely different setting, obviously very different from gym floor. He was still in his bloodstained gym clothes, yet he felt no dried-up blood caked on his face, although it was very sensitive to the touch.
'White walls, white curtains, white beds, passed out Seifer in a white bed, where am I?'
'-Wait. I must be in the infirmary, but why does my head hurt so much?'
After that final thought, the resident doctor, Dr. Kadowaki, walked to the foot of his bed and picked up one of those built-in clipboards, which Squall assumed noted his current status.
"So you've finally woke up Mr. Leonhart, how are you feeling?" She asked in a friendly tone, still holding the aforementioned clipboard.
Trying to be as brief as possible, Squall replied, "…I'm okay, but my head hurts."
"Looks like your eyes are focusing. You should be fine. The pain you're experiencing is from that wound to your forehead. I'll give you some pills to dull the pain, but next time, take it easy in training. Next time you might not be so lucky."
"Tell that to Seifer."
"That Seifer…" She paused to glance at him from across the room, "…Won't listen to anyone. Why don't you ignore him?"
"I can't just run away."
"You wanna be cool, huh? Well, don't get hurt in the process." Dr. Kadowaki quickly went to retrieve the medicine and gave it to Squall. She continued, "If you're feeling better, I can write you a late pass for your last period, which is…"
"-Grade 12 History." he added.
"Right. Okay…" She paused to finish the note, "…There we are, your clothes and gunblade case are on that table right beside you, and I'll send you with some energy bars just in case if you're feeling faint later on. Any questions?"
Squall did have one or two questions on his mind, but was slightly hesitant on asking the doctor. A pause then followed, but a moment later, he decided to take the plunge and filled the void.
"Who exactly found us?"
"That happened to be Miss Heartilly." Dr. Kadowaki quickly recalled. The name suddenly sparked a revelation in Squall's head.
'That's who that was in the crowd; the black-haired girl's name was Rinoa Heartilly, now I remember. But why did she come back to the gym?'
Squall took the plunge yet again with his second question, "There's one more thing…"
He hesitated again.
"Yes?"
"Will this wound …affect anything?" Now he wanted to slap himself; the question managed to sound even dumber outside his head.
"No, your injury's not serious. It'll probably leave a scar though." And with that response, she closed his divider curtains and left him to give him some privacy to change into his regular clothes.
Soon after that, he finished changing and headed out of the infirmary to his locker.
As he walked down the hallway to get to his locker, he received a record number of stares, or to be more precise, a record number of people gaping at his new scar. Some of them started whispering among themselves, but Squall didn't care, he just gave the onlookers the usual icy glare.
"Can this day get any better…?" he muttered to himself sarcastically instead of internally voicing his misery. Today, his usual silent nature seemed to be taking a long vacation to the Closest Island to Hell.
After somehow managing to make it to the second floor, Squall got to his History class and he simply handed the teacher, Mrs. Kramer, usually referred to as Mrs. Edea, the note from Dr. Kadowaki. After reading it, she nodded in acknowledgment, and Squall took his usual seat, the first desk in the third row.
As it turned out, he didn't miss much, if anything at all. Mrs. Edea hadn't even finished handing out the history quiz scheduled for today yet. While many students groaned of the prospect of the test being given, Squall was thankful for it. It would delay the inevitable moment where everyone would take notice of the scar across his face and even if they did notice, no comments could be made; the test would force them to shut up and keep quiet as well.
Who knew that a couple pieces of paper stapled together would be such a godsend?
Roughly half the period later, Squall finished his test, picked up his things and promptly gave it in. As he placed in on the corner of her desk, the teacher nodded and near-silently instructed for him to go into the smaller adjacent room, like she always did when a student finished a test early to avoid distractions in class or hallway straggling outside of it. Squall normally didn't have to wait around in the room, but seeing as he was car-less today, he had no choice but to comply.
Walking out of the class and into the other room, he noticed that it was very untidy at the present moment. Books were stacked unevenly on crooked tables instead of being in the dusty, chipped wooden shelves where they should have been, old, unused desks and chairs were scattered everywhere and particles of dust floated freely around the room without rhyme or reason.
'…Looks like as if tornado swept past here since the last time I was in here…'
'-Not to mention it's kind of hot in here…'
Shrugging these negative observations off, Squall dragged a desk and chair set off to the far right-hand corner. Once he sat himself down, he found an old issue of Weapons Monthly magazine atop the stack of random books nearby, grabbed it and propped up his feet comfortably on the desk itself.
Minutes later, Squall heard the near-silent creak of the door and couple of footsteps; someone else must have finished their test early. He didn't bother to look up from the magazine's glossy pages though, as long as who ever it was didn't attempt conversation or gawk at the scar, he didn't particularly care who or what it was.
As the minutes slowly ticked on, the stifling heat continued to radiate throughout the room. Finding it harder and harder to concentrate on the words printed on the page, Squall kept on going in and out of a light stupor. The sensation of jolting back into consciousness every other minute was getting almost too irritating to bear.
'-What?' He jolted awake again. 'Ugh, maybe this is happening to me because of my scar. I should go see Dr. Kadowaki to check it out.'
'-Nevermind, there's only ten minutes left before school's done and I would have had these sleepy spells earlier if that was the case. It's probably just this stupid heat…'
"Squall, please wake up!" A voice said urgently, shaking his left arm.
'What? …I'm awake…' he pondered groggily, not realizing that he wasn't saying anything out loud.
"Oh please wake up Squall!" The female voice called out loudly.
'Hm… where am I?' His eyes fluttered open as he realized that he was somewhere unfamiliar to him in the complete darkness.
"Squall, thank goodness you're awake!" the same female said in a mildly joyful tone before continuing, "Something bad has happened!"
Squall rubbed his eyes and then opened them, his eyes trying to focus properly from the current lack of lighting, trying to figure out where he was and who was talking to him. He peered down and saw that same issue of Weapons Monthly that he was reading earlier in the other room in history class.
He took a second look in horror.
'No this, is impossible…It can't be…Don't tell me-'
Squall got a better glimpse of his surroundings and it confirmed his gravest of suspicions.
'…I'm stuck inside the school. I am stuck inside this Hyne-forsaken school with someone I-'
He looked up and saw the unfortunate student stuck with him-
……It was Rinoa Heartilly.
End of Chapter Comments – Wow, I cut out a lot more lines than I predicted. I think there are about 700 words taken off. Oh well, I guess it's better to be concise sometimes. Anyways, I hope that any of you who haven't read this story before will enjoy it and those who already have; I hope you'll enjoy it even more. I don't expect much in the line of reviews seeing as it's an old story, but if you do have any, I'll appreciate it all the same.
Regarding updates for this revision, it'll depend on my schedule. But I'll try my best to fit some time in for it.
Cheers,
-Emerald-Latias
