Notes: Just three drabbles I have written over a year ago. Nothing special.

Title: Until Eternity
Rating: G
Word Count: 100 exactly, as per definition
Characters: Squall, Seifer (post-war)

He ran into him at Balamb Harbour, where Seifer was killing time, waiting for god-knows-what. Maybe he was just killing time, period. There was nothing much left for him to do, after all.

The blond taunted him. As though the last months had never happened. Weren't the losers supposed to be repentant?

So he asked, "What is still driving you, Seifer?"

"Why, Squall, I'm not finished with this world yet. Still haven't gained immortality, have I?"

Squall shook his head slowly. "You're blind, Seifer. You already have what you've been dreaming about. Fame always fades. But failure, people never forget."

Title: Eternal beauty
Rating: PG
Word Count: 100 exactly
Characters: Naive!Rinoa, Deranged!Squall

He couldn't understand why everyone was making such a fuss about his present. He'd given her, what she'd wanted.

"Wouldn't it be great," she'd asked him one day, "if everyone could life forever and no-one would have to grow old? We'd stay beautiful till eternity!"

Back then, he hadn't told her that mercenaries didn't grow old, and battle wounds were never pretty.

Instead, he'd smiled at her, told her to close her eyes, and thought that, maybe, princesses and sorceresses, unlike mercenaries, just might be able to make their wishes come true. He'd kissed her then, and softly whispered, "Petrify."

Title: Opposites Repel
Rating: PG
Word Count: 300
Characters: Selphie, Squall

"Can't you see?" she urged him. Hyne, the boy had not one ounce of imagination in his body.

"Frankly?" he answered flatly, "No. It's a Mesmerize, and nothing else. What else is there to see?"

She'd tried to explain it to him. She really had. "Oh, you!" Selphie said with exasperation, cuffing him on the arm. Next try. "Alright, just picture this: We're back in Trabia, okay? We're out in the cold at night, a thick blanket of snow is perpetually covering the ground and the trees. The moon is still fairly full, and no cloud is in the sky. Amidst the wasteland, a lone mare is standing, horn risen into the air. And when the snow reflects the silver-blue light just so, then a Mesmerize just may become a unicorn."

Squall gave a tiny shrug, or maybe he was just readjusting his jacket.

Dispirited, she gave up. She just couldn't understand, how he managed to live without any kind of daydreaming, at all. With nothing but the blunt harshness of reality. Maybe that was the reason, he was always giving the world that dead look.

Couldn't he see that metaphors and allegories were important? Mesmerizes weren't just beasts with horns. Snow wasn't just dull snow, and it definitely wasn't water in a crystalline state of aggregation, as he had so eloquently put it earlier. No, it was a gift. A gift from the fairies. It had to be, because then missiles weren't missiles, but fiery rain.

She conjured up a - what she hoped - convincing smile on her delicate face. It turned slightly rueful. "You know, that pendant you are wearing, Griever? I really hope that for you it really is merely a polished piece of metal. For your own sake. Or else, I think you'd go insane."