So it occured to me the more I wrote for the novel that there were going to be some things that I couldn't add to the story specifically because it would either stretch out the length of the arc, or there was no way I could fit it in. Considering that there was just so much I wanted to add to my telling, this notion bummed me out, but I persevered and decided that whatever didn't make the story would be added to a side story slot, updating after that particular arc was finished, so as not to disrupt the story. That means that while this particular story may not be updated very often, there might be more than just one update at a time, so it's a neat little trade back. Hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Also as another note, these chapters will most likely not be in chronological order. I will make a note at the beginning of each chapter stating the time it takes place. Sorry if it gets messy or confusing. Sorry for the late posting of this; it was originally supposed to be posted on the same week I updated Requiem of Chaos, but things fell flat on its face.
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII, it's characters or the plot. That honour belongs to Square-Enix (formerly Squaresoft).
Fisherman's Horizon had thirteen hours of daylight. It was more or less the same as the small continent of Balamb.
This was also true when it came to their climates. One similarity, from what he'd learned, was that the two areas shared a lack of snow during winter months. In Balamb, it simply rained, the frigid element turning into water once it reached a certain altitude within the region, making the months of November to February very damp and bogged down with moisture that attracted lots of insects, like mosquitoes. The temperature itself never dipped down below 10 degrees Celsius, and always required the use of spring clothes for optimum comfort.
The months of March through June and September through November were also very mild, not too hot or too cold, and their summers could hardly even be called that. The temperatures between June and September climbed to a high of mid to late twenties on average, though it wasn't unheard of for them to climb even further into the thirties. Of course with the humidity there awarded some discomfort, but during those times, many of the youths living in town or attending the Garden would find themselves along the beaches that surrounded the continent.
Unfortunately, that was one thing Fisherman's Horizon failed to have in common with Balamb.
Because the small community was located in the middle of a bridge, they had no real access to the sea water beneath them. There were no beaches in the surrounding area, no immediate means of cooling off during the hottest and most humid hours of the day. Furthermore, their summers were much balmier than Balamb's. Their record high was about mid forties. Today was no exception. According to temperatures that were being recorded in town, the high for the day was supposed to be 42 degrees Celsius and he could feel it the moment he'd stepped aboard the suspension bridge, through the cotton clothes he had put on to combat the heat.
It was a failing battle and he knew it.
Still, he resisted the urge to return to the air-conditioned confines of the Garden. He couldn't say there wasn't anything for him to do, mostly overseeing the repairs, but the Lieutenant Commander had insisted he take a break, if only for a couple of hours, as he'd been working non-stop for the last few days.
He frowned to himself, recalling the very reason he was in the position he was in right now. It had only been a few days since the announcement had been made over the speaker system, and already he was regretting letting Cid twist his arm the way he had. Never before had he realised just how much work the administrative staff and the leaders of the Garden had set in front of them, mostly consisting of a few pages of paper that needed documenting or signatures. He hadn't thought he'd have any time to work on his signature (even if he'd wanted to) when he'd first become a SeeD member, but now it looked like his wrist was in for a workout.
He forced those thoughts out of his mind though. The office and all the responsibilities that the Headmaster was leaving him in charge of was the very last thing he wanted to think about.
Before he had even reached the lift that would take him into the town proper, however, he caught sight of a ladder that led down when he reached the catwalk near a pillar of some sort. It wasn't so much the sight of the ladder that had drawn his attention as it was the gate of a fence wrapped around it, swinging open and slapping against the mesh wire as the wind swung it forward.
He knew it wasn't any of his business, knew that he should simply inform the people who ran the city of the trespass and walk away, but curiosity was biting at him and he couldn't help himself as he passed through the opened gate and began to descend the ladder into unknown territory.
The ladder led a fair way beneath the catwalk as the teenager noticed during his descent. To his left there was a small platform surrounded by railings that didn't lead to anywhere. The base of the ladder touched a metal plank and the plank stretched for a while to his right. When he'd reached the bottom, he crept along the plank, keeping his eyes open for something that looked out of the ordinary.
Then again, he'd never exactly been down there before, so it was very unlikely he would be able to tell if something was out of place or not.
Regardless of this fact, he pressed on, keeping his footfalls light as he followed the path, for what he wasn't exactly sure. But at the end of the path he spotted another ladder. This one was smaller and only consisted of about five bars. Within a few steps, he was already on the upper landing, but the sight at the very end took him unawares.
When he'd first noticed the fence and the door swinging open, he had immediately assumed that it was some kid who thought he'd get a rush being somewhere he shouldn't. But the culprit wasn't a youth. He was much older. His skin was an olive complexion, waxy looking from constant exposure in the sun. He wore a green coloured hat as the sole protection from the ultra violet rays above, and he was wearing a blue shirt and a pair of green suspenders that looked almost uncomfortable in the heat. Clenched tightly in his hands was a fishing rod, the line cast below the surface of the water that was a few meters beneath him. The man's head was dipped forward. It was almost as though he'd fallen asleep.
Unsure of what he should do now, Squall looked around. He didn't know why he suddenly felt awkward, because it was only the pair of them on the platform surrounded by railings. He realised that the old man was sitting on something akin to the end of the crane, with his feet perched along the top end of the object, as though for support.
Knowing that he should either make his presence known or leave him be, the SeeD went to make a move. But then the man suddenly spoke, causing the youth to nearly jump out of his skin in reflex by the sudden disruption. "Will you keep it down?"
He spoke in a harsh whisper, but it travelled well enough that the SeeD was able to catch every word of it. "You'll scare away the game."
Squall arched an eyebrow. He hadn't been doing anything to make a sound and wondered what the old man's problem was. But then the old man sighed and began to set his fishing rod to the side as he said, "Never mind. Game's not cooperating today anyhow."
Once the rod had been set aside in a secured kind of way, he forced himself to stand. He stood straight back, unlike the Mayor who was always hunched over somewhat, before turning around to face the youth. The man had some lines along his face that told he was older, but not nearly as much as Squall would have expected. He wondered if it had anything to do with his lifestyle, but didn't ask about it.
For his part, the old man looked somewhat surprised to see him standing there. Squall assumed he'd received visits from some of the other civilians, and hadn't expected recognition or anything along those lines. "Yer not from around here." It wasn't a question.
Squall shook his head in reply and the man regarded him curiously. "Then what're you doin' down here?"
"The gate was open," Squall responded lamely and cursed himself for it.
The old man stared at him, seemingly sizing him up before he barked out a laugh. "Well that was foolish of me. I guess even old dodgers like me forget things every now and again, eh?"
The youth blinked at the outburst. He didn't know what he'd been expecting but it certainly hadn't been anything like that. The man seemed to catch the look however. "Relax, kid. I come down here all the time. My house is around the bend. It's real easy for me to get here without anyone realising it."
"You avoid the others?" Squall asked, suddenly curious.
The old man waved him off. "Nah, not all the time. And it ain't like it happens on purpose neither. It's just good to get away from it all. Some peace and quiet does people some good, otherwise you start to feel smothered."
Squall didn't know why the old man was getting all defensive. It wasn't like he was judging his actions or anything. He knew exactly what the old man was talking about though. Sometimes, you really did just needed to get away. Everyone had a place like that. His was the training centre, but he wasn't about to go into detail.
"Yer from that Garden, aincha?" The man suddenly said, as though they hadn't gotten off track. "The one that crashed inta us?"
Squall frowned. It wasn't exactly like it had been a secret that their Garden had lost control, but the situation still didn't sit well with him, considering they had been responsible for it. He nodded in response.
"You oughta be more careful," the fisherman continued before pointing up above them. "The damage was downright horrifying ta look at. Bolts and planks all ripped off their supports. Fortunately, our skill-hands know a bolt from their boots and they did one hellova job fixing it up real quick. Why, I was over there fishin' that very mornin'. Damned ship nearly collided right inter me. Terrible if ya ask me."
The youth frowned as he took in the sight he was being shown. He could just imagine the damages their Garden had caused and it made his stomach tighten at the reminder. It was a miracle no one had gotten hurt. He hadn't even realised there had been someone down there at the time. "I'm sorry," he said, and was surprised at how easily the words had come to him. "It was our fault, and I won't offer any excuses. We're just lucky that no one got hurt."
"Nah, don't worry about it, boy," the man said and Squall was surprised at how easily he shook it off. "Water under the bridge, pardon the pun. Things happen."
The man coughed into his hand suddenly and, between the coughing, Squall was able to make out what the man was trying to hide behind his fist. "Damn near killed me," he barked out in a whisper.
Squall blinked in surprise, wondering if maybe he'd somehow managed to run into a lunatic, but the man whirled back around and flashed him a toothy grin. "Just kiddin'."
When the youth continued to stare, the grin diminished somewhat before the old man shook his head. "Relax and take that stick outta there once in a while. Can't be comfortable sittin' down. I'm just yankin' yer chain, boy. There's no need ta take everything so seriously."
Now he was convinced the older man needed help, the professional psychiatric kind that he wasn't trained to give. Apparently, he must have sensed the change of atmosphere, because the fisherman rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. It was at that point, Squall figured it would probably be a good idea to leave this old man alone.
"Okay…" Squall said awkwardly, in response to the older man's last words. "I'm going to go now."
"Just one minute," the fisherman said even as Squall was turning around. "I didn't say ya had ta leave. Why not spend some time with the old man?"
"I'm kind of busy."
"Busy enough that ya had time ta follow an old man down here?" The fisherman gestured widely.
Squall winced. He had a valid point. When the man gestured for him to do so, Squall stepped forward away from the ladder leading back the way he'd come and closer to the fisherman, despite his misgivings. The fisherman plopped back down onto his spot while the SeeD opted to stand with his arms crossed in front of him.
"Ya ever gone fishin' before?" The fisherman asked suddenly as he reeled in his fishing line.
Squall shook his head in response before remembering that the man was facing away from him now and couldn't see him. "Not really."
It was the truth. When he was younger, the Garden had taken them into town, where they'd been taught a little about the fishing community. A lot of the other cadets had wanted to try to fish by the docks and had done so under the instructor's watchful eyes. He'd opted out and had silently watched instead, never having really taken an interest in the activity.
"That Garden's from Balamb, ain't it?" the fisherman asked.
"That's right."
"And Balamb's a fisherman's town. You're tellin' me you ain't so much as taken up a rod?"
Squall shrugged in response. "Wasn't all that interested."
"My god, boy. Don't look down yer nose at somethin' if ya ain't so much as tried it. C'mere."
The fisherman reached behind him and, with a grip Squall hadn't expected him to have, dragged the SeeD even closer, until he was forced to lean beside the elder man. Before he knew it, he was seated next to the fisherman, his legs dangling over the edge of the perch and the fisherman was positioning the youth's hands around the base of the object. When Squall's hands were holding the rod the right way, the fisherman reached down and pulled into view a tin bucket. Reaching into it, he pulled out a wriggling worm.
Squall watched as the fisherman attached the worm to the base of a ball with a hook on it as the elder man explained to him how to go about it, all the while wondering why he was even putting up with this. Maybe it was a mild curiosity, or perhaps this old man was so unpredictable he didn't know what he would do next to catch him off guard. Stranger still, he sort of found himself looking forward to finding out.
"When you feel a bite, the fishing line'll tug," the fisherman was explaining. "That's when you'll reel the sucker in using this," he indicated a small handle secured to a bit of metal that had fishing wire wrapped around it. "Ya gotta be quick though, otherwise ya may find yerself reeling up the hook with nothin' attached to it. First thing's first though. You gotta cast the line."
The older man pushed himself back onto his feet, gesturing for the SeeD to do the same, which he did. "Just do what I do," he said rather than explain the next step of the unexpected lesson. He put his hands together and stretched his arms as though he were holding onto a fishing line himself before bringing it along behind him. The SeeD followed the movement until the line of pull matched but just as quickly the fisherman thrust his arms forward sharply. Squall did so as well, and the line flew into the water, the SeeD barely managed to keep his hold on the line. "Now what?" Squall asked after a moment where nothing happened.
"Now," said the fisherman as he sat back down, "we wait."
And that was exactly what the pair did. They waited for something to grab a hold of the bait. Unfortunately, it seemed as though the fisherman's earlier statement had been true, the fish really weren't cooperating today. Squall half wondered if it was due to the Garden's presence, but shook away the thought as quickly as it had surfaced. SeeD had been there for the last few days, the fish would have gotten used to it by now. Surely they wouldn't be so skittish that a large structure that remained stationary would scare them away.
Squall forced himself to stop mid-thought. Now he was contemplating the thinking patterns of fish. That was a new kind of low that he didn't even want to consider.
Having sat down a short while after the fisherman, the youth kept a grip on the rod as it stemmed out in front of him. Beside him, the elder man simply sat staring straight ahead, though Squall guessed he was also keeping an eye out in case he caught something. Squall huffed a sigh, wondering not for the first time what exactly attracted people to this activity when all it consisted of most of the time was waiting.
Beside him, the old man chuckled, drawing the SeeD's attention towards him. "What's so funny?" He asked, keeping his voice low. The last thing he needed to hear was a lecture about scaring away the fish.
He'd half expected the man to shush him or to shake his head and wave off the question. The last thing he'd expected was an answer, especially the kind of which he received. "You."
Squall blinked in confusion but waited for the elder man to give him an explanation. He wasn't kept waiting long though. "You don't let anyone in, do ya?"
The SeeD continued to stare, wondering how he'd managed to come to that conclusion and why he even thought it was any of his business to begin with. The fisherman seemed to read through the look because he shook his head. "It's in yer mannerisms, boy. The way ya walk, how ya talk, hell, even the way ya sit's a dead giveaway."
Almost subconsciously, Squall straightened his back, causing him to sit up a little straighter, his shoulders no longer hunched up to his mid neck. He hadn't intended for it to happen based on the elder man's words, but that was what it looked like. It was apparently so, since the fisherman started laughing again. "Relax, boy. I ain't judging ya. I was the same way when I was yer age. Still am, kinda, though everyone around these parts seems to know exactly who I am without my botherin' ta try. If yer anything like I was, then ya keep others out 'cuz ya got too much pride in ya ta let 'em in."
Squall frowned thoughtfully and realized that he was probably right. He chose to keep everyone else out of his business because it was his to deal with. It was mostly because he knew he could take care of himself without anyone else's interference. He knew it was an arrogant thought, and he supposed that arrogance was a big part of pride, so he couldn't be too far off the mark with his comment. Wordlessly, Squall nodded lightly, enough to show the man he'd made his point but not too much to convey that he was interested in continuing this conversation.
"Got nuthin' to say?" The fisherman asked coyly. "Or are ya waiting fer me to drop the subject?"
Squall frowned, not liking that he was so readable to this man at all.
"Ya know what?" He said before Squall had the chance to make a remark. "I think I like ya."
Squall arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate, which of course he didn't. Instead, the fisherman mercifully changed the subject. "So I take it ya met Dobe."
Slowly, Squall nodded. He still wasn't entirely sure how he felt about the Mayor. It was commendable how far the town leader was willing to go to maintain his order of pacifism, but at the same time he did so recklessly, condemning anyone who didn't share the same values and almost getting himself killed trying to convert others. He had said what he had to be polite, despite the majority of it having been the truth, and he seriously doubted that those words would have had any impact on the stubborn man.
"I take it from the look on yer face ya heard the song and dance?" The fisherman supplied.
Squall started at the comment. Had his facial expression really given away his thoughts? He frowned slightly at the thought of being so readable. The fisherman for his part fell silent for a moment, his features thoughtful as he seemed to mull something over. Assuming that the conversation was over, Squall returned his attention to the task at hand, only he needn't have bother since nothing had happened since the last time he'd focussed on the rod in front of him.
A few minutes went by before he registered movement from beside him. He looked up instinctively to see the fisherman rising to his feet. "I'll be right back," the man assured him before he made for the ladder. "Keep doin' what yer doin' 'til I get back."
And he left Squall on that perch with only the expanse of ocean below him for company.
He didn't know how long he sat there, or even why he did, but he looked up when the elder man returned, carrying some kind of bag with him that he dumped onto the ground a few feet away from him. "Leave the rod in the holder and c'mere a sec, will ya?"
Unsure of what he was planning, Squall set aside the rod and rose to his feet, inching closer to the fisherman who was searching the bag's contents for something. He found it seconds later and withdrew a small circular object Squall thought was a DVD. When the elder man held it up, Squall realized that it really wasn't. It looked like an electronic base of some sort. Whatever its function was was lost on the SeeD and he couldn't help but feel that Zell would have at least had an idea of what it did. He was gestured to take a seat, but the SeeD simply crouched instead, waiting for the man to get on with whatever it was he was doing.
The fisherman fiddled with the object before setting it onto the ground. "Dobe probably told ya we originally came here from Esthar, right?" Squall nodded in response to the question. "Well, this here thing has somethin' recorded that I wanna show ya. Ya might wanna back up a step," he suggested before doing just that.
The SeeD mirrored the action and suddenly the little object started glowing. Then, just above the machine appeared some kind of projection that seemed to hover in midair. The image he was awarded was of a man wearing strange and foreign looking white robes. The figure had a long green hat that seemed to be about the length of his head that matched the long line running down the front of his attire, and in the projection his skin was pale. Squall figured it was a side effect of the machine.
The features weren't very clear in the projection but looking into it, Squall realized that he recognized the figure somewhat. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he definitely knew he'd met this person before. He just couldn't place when and where.
"Sorry 'bout the picture," the fisherman said as he watched the projection. "This thing's about twenty years old now, so it ain't the same kinda clarity it once was."
"Is this you in the past?" Squall asked uncertainly.
The fisherman fixed him with a surprised look. "What? Are you kidding me? Does that guy look anything like me?"
Squall scowled as he tried to make out the features of the figure, but found himself hard pressed to do so. The fisherman seemed to realize this because he settled back down again. "Sorry, 'course ya can't tell who it is. He looks familiar though, don't he?"
The SeeD offered a nod in return but didn't add anything to it. The fisherman apparently thought it would be appropriate to fill in the blanks. "That there is ol' Dobey, back in his prime."
Squall took in the projections image once again, surprised at the declaration. The Dobe of the past and the one he'd met a few days ago looked nothing alike, at least from what he could tell. This man looked more professional, more straight backed, definitely younger than he was now. The Mayor he'd met had seemed more relaxed, but he supposed he was still as stern as he appeared in the projection.
"Even back then, he was concerned with pacifism," the fisherman remarked fondly, as though he were recalling something from the past. "He sure was a rebel though. He put everything on the line tryin' ta change Esthar back then, himself included."
He changed his target of view from the image in front of him to the youth. "I'm guessin' ya learned all about Esthar from the Garden, right? It's the wonderland down the train tracks. Only real way to reach the continent now though is to hike across them, though there's no guarantee ya'd even find the actual country if ya did. Not exactly a fine day at the park, mind ya. Esthar was beautiful, but its principles sure as hell weren't. All anyone could talk about at the time was war, and Dobey tried his damnedest ta make 'em all see reason. Unfortunately, nothin' worked.
"Ya mighta heard this already, but the settlers' of this here city were originally technicians from Esthar," the fisherman continued. "Hell, they used ta call me the Engineer back then. Some still do, but that ain't the point. We was all happy back then, but then the war started and everything changed on us. No one was happy 'bout the rule. Most of us were scared ta put a toe outta line for the sake of peace, but Dobey wasn' about ta lay down and just accept things fer what they were. No one listened to him and in the end, we all decided ta leave Esthar behind and build our dreamland somewhere else. Dobey was against it at first. Said with some hard work, we could change their minds and set the record straight. He debated and debated until he was blue in the face, and ironically enough he's here now, with us."
The fisherman snorted suddenly, as though he'd thought up some kind of joke and it gave Squall some time to mull over what he'd been told. He'd known that Esthar had become heavily involved in military affairs a few years before they declared war on Galbadia, but the history books could only tell you so much and left out the effect it had on the people living in the country.
"And after all these years, ya'd think he'd have mellowed out some, but no... The guy's still obsessed with pacifism," the fisherman continued. "So much so that he's put a ban on armaments in the city and tries ta avoid contact with any and all forms of countries who use 'em. It's pretty much cut us off from the rest of the world, but no one complains. He can come across as bein' pig headed and close minded and it gives off the wrong impression of him. I think he knows it too, but he can't help it. Environment has a lot ta do with a person's mannerisms.
"Esthar's changed though," the fisherman added. "Closed off its borders and gone silent, effectively ended the war and brought the rest of the world peace. And, believe it or not, FH's changed a great deal in that time as well. Our way of livin', the technology we use, and even the faces who live here."
He cracked that toothy smile again. "Betcha it changes yer opinion of this dingy place, don't it?"
Squall didn't say anything. To be honest he hadn't exactly formed an opinion of the city in the first place, so much as he had of the Mayor and its principles. But he understood what the fisherman was getting at. The elder man looked up towards the sky, even if it was obscured by the plating above their heads. "It won't be in any text book ya ever read, but this here place was built on dreams."
"What made you want to build a settlement here?" Squall asked, unable to contain the question. The fisherman looked back down at him, bewilderment creasing his features. "You could have gone anywhere else. Balamb or even Galbadia might have welcomed you."
The fisherman shrugged. "Ta be honest, we weren't exactly sure where we were gonna go in the first place when we left. We just wandered across the bridge – by then the trains had gone outta service since Esthar didn't want the Galbadian's reachin' 'em as easily as boarding a train. But then one day, I sat down and started fishin'. Don't know why, but I just did. Actually…" He rubbed the back of his head, looking as though he'd just remembered something. "That was about the time I thought up the name fer this here town."
"You named the town?"
The fisherman nodded. "Ya sound shocked. Orion mighta become our leader, but I was the one who orchestrated us all leavin' after all."
"But why did you name it Fisherman's Horizon?" Squall asked curiously. "What made you come up with the name?"
The fisherman looked surprised for a moment. Apparently he hadn't thought the SeeD would think to ask him something like that. The silence stretched on into a second second before the older man finally rubbed the back of his head, looking really sheepish. "Well… no one complained. Actually, now that I think about it, I was surprised no one said a thing about it. I musta been outta my crank ta have come up with a name like that for a city. Guess it shows how much faith everyone had in me."
He barked out a laugh as Squall stared at him in stunned silence, not sure how seriously he should take the answer. How was it possible to name the town on a whim and not have any objections? "Why are you telling me all this?"
"Why?" The fisherman asked in bemusement. "It's 'cuz I figured ya'd understand it a whole lot better than most people."
Squall stared at him in confusion while the elder man huffed out a sigh. "Ta be honest, I spoke with Dobe a little while after the fighting in the town square. I don't agree with the method, but I have ta say the Mayor was a right ol' idiot ta think he could waltz on down there and talk some sense into those meatheads. He woulda gotten killed too if it weren't for you SeeD people."
The SeeD remained silent as the fisherman continued with his explanation. "I may just look like a regular run-of-the-mill bum, but the folks here seem to value my opinion, so as soon as ol' Dobey gets home, he calls me up to rant about the whole sordid affair. When he calmed down enough, he told me all about this one guy with a scar on his face saying some strange stuff for a soldier."
The fisherman, who had turned to look back out onto the ocean as he spoke, returned his gaze onto the SeeD. "I knew I had ta meet ya then when he wouldn't stop yammerin' on about ya."
"So the gate," Squall asked slowly, "you left that open on purpose?"
The elder man shrugged almost nonchalant, but the look his face betrayed the guilt he felt, and proved the suspicion to be fact. "Woulda sought ya out myself, but how likely is it that I'd find ya among all the other townsfolk, let alone all the youths comin' on outta tha Garden. It'd be like findin' a needle in a haystack, damn near impossible. I left it open today on a whim, figurin' that I had nothin' better to do, 'sides from fishin' of course. And what're the odds that it'd actually work; that the one person who'd get curious enough to investigate an open door's the exact person I wanted ta meet in the first place?"
Squall remained silent, not exactly sure how he should take the strange actions of the strange old man. It felt more than just a little weird that someone would go through all the trouble just to meet and talk to him, just because of something he'd heard. It made him feel more than a little awkward and he wondered, not for the first time, why he was the one being singled out when he was no different from anyone else who came from the Garden.
His train of thought was broken when he heard the fisherman clear his throat. Looking up, he realized that the elder man's attention was fixed not on him, but behind him as he rose onto his feet. "Looks like somethin' finally bit."
Squall turned to look behind him and realized the man was right. The fishing line was slowly moving higher and higher, almost as though something was occasionally pulling on the cord. Reacting quickly, the youth got up onto his feet and grabbed the end of the rod before it could be dragged out of its holder. "Now reel it in like how I told ya," the fisherman encouraged. Judging by the sound of his voice, he was approaching lightly so as not to make any noise.
Clutching onto the handle with his index finger and thumb, Squall did exactly that, spinning the object quickly as he pulled back as hard as he could. There was some resistance as he did this, and he grit his teeth as he continued to reel in whatever it was that he caught. He noticed the sudden adrenaline rush he felt as he continued this action and realized that this was the allure of fishing. Amidst of the silence a catch was almost spontaneous and it caused such a thrill it was almost like waking up from the brink of death. All of his senses felt alive with the rush, and the steady thrum of his heartbeat could be felt from beneath the skin as the line was reeled in and the turning of the mechanism of the crane grew that much harder to turn.
And then just like that the resistance broke off, causing the youth to lose his balance and fall flat on his rear along the dock with a hard thud. He blinked stupidly, wondering if perhaps the line had broken before he took a look. But what he saw caused him to drop the rod and groan loudly. He had caught something. It just wasn't at all what he had been expecting.
The worm that the fisherman had affixed onto the hook at the end of the fishing line was gone. Most likely it had been swallowed up by a fish during the entire exchange, but nevertheless there was still something at the very end of the line, though it gave very little resistance at having been fished out of the water beneath them. It was red in colour and looked to be about the width of a person, with two open pockets that looked to be for holding something securely in place. And despite never having touched one before, Squall knew exactly what it was as his face heated up in embarrassment.
Behind him, he heard the old man's barking laughter and he scowled, wanting to shrink away into nonexistence. Morbid curiosity guided his movements as he turned his head to see the fisherman bent over with his hands on his knees, his shoulders quaking and his head shaking in mirth. He managed to compose himself after about a minute, but there was still the odd waver that could lead into another laughing fit as he spoke. "Well... at least ya caught something," he said as he gestured towards the bra.
Squall slapped himself in the forehead. It was just his luck that this would be his first catch.
Okay, so obviously this was my interpretation of Squall meeting the fisherman. I know it's not exactly how the game had it, but I'm satisfied with how it turned out.
First and foremost; I always thought it was odd that Squall would meet with the Master Fisherman with the others in tow, and have them not say anything about it (with the exception of Irvine who, if you talked to him before leaving the room in the inn, commented that the story was nice). As such, this is why Squall and the fisherman have a one-on-one in my version. Also, I decided to explain a little bit about why the Fisherman wanted to speak to Squall and why he stood out to him so much. Fact is, I always noticed some similarities between the fisherman and Squall; they're both secluded people who gained the respect of their peers seemingly without even trying to, and they're rough around the edges at first glance but there is always something more deep down. One of the key differences is the teasing, though Squall (in the game) has been given the opportunity to crack a joke or two, pending the player's decision.
Another decision I made was that instead of lugging Squall all over town and proving how everyone got so excited whenever they saw the fisherman, they stayed down on the dock and the whole story was focused on that spot. I did so because it seemed like too much work to walk all over the place just to gage the reaction of other people, and it's not even necessary anyway, since there are multiple people who point him out in the novel, so I decided to do it this way. Also having Squall fish for the first time was just another thing for them to do to occupy the pockets of dead space (which I knew there was going to be plenty of) but it also threw in a famous old saying 'don't knock it till you try it'. That could be in reference to a lot of the things Squall didn't do as he was growing up, simply because he was pining away at instances that weren't really in his control to begin with. But the story will go into even more detail about that later on, so I'm not going to spoil it by putting it here.
The bra thing was just a humorous attempt to end the chapter on my part. Originally it was going to be a boot (I never intended for Squall to catch a fish) but my editor tore me a knew one. It's been done so many times it would have just been an eye-roll moment, so I went with the bra. Squall's so funny when he gets embarrassed.
Also, for those who care, the title 'Mijikai monogatari' is japanese. 'Mijakai' means 'short' and 'Monogatari' means 'tale'. Yeah, I know; I'm lazy, but I couldn't think of anything that would seem like a good title for a bunch of shorts, so yeah, the whole thing is called 'Short Tale'. Meh.