Special Roast
A Gift for Loi
by RyRy
12/14/05

Squall stared at his desk. It was Christmas.

Was he supposed to be thankful for things at Christmas? No, no, that was Thanksgiving. Right. What was he supposed to be doing today?

Right, probably some religious stuff. Squall didn't care. He had other things to do.

A tiny beeping sound signaled that his timed coffeemaker was finished brewing his first pot of the day. Squall half-wondered if he'd remembered to clean out the catch where the grounds were stored, but then decided that he didn't care about that either. Coffee was coffee, whether it was made with stale grounds or not.

He stood up from his desk, catching a glimpse of the outside world as he turned. The sky was a dusty gray, sprinkling holiday cheer in the form of snowflakes across the Balamb Plains. Squall was thankful that he wasn't outside so that he could be infected with that nonsense.

The Commander of Balamb Garden – the most powerful force in the entire world – couldn't afford to take holidays. Someone had to watch the radar screens to make sure that the Galbadians didn't choose this particular day to try to take over the world. Knowing them, they would choose to hit on a day like this, when no one was expecting it.

Squall had to be the one to expect it, since no one else would.

He sighed and leaned back against his desk, momentarily forgetting about the coffee. Part of him wondered what it was about this day – just any other day, nothing special, nothing exciting – that changed people. Suddenly those who ignored him for the rest of the year were greeting him good morning, saying those magical words "Merry Christmas"… what power did those syllables hold? Were they a Sorceress's spell left over from the ages, the origins forgotten and unintentionally used in good cheer?

What would it be like to have someone do something special for him for Christmas? Matron had gathered the children around the decorated tree, putting an ornament up for each of them – Squall's was a lion laying on a patch of holly and ivy – and sung songs about the holiday. Selphie had swayed and clapped her hands with joy, trying to sing along. Irvine and Quistis sat together, listening intently. Seifer was poking Zell in the side, and Zell was trying to be good for this one time, and Squall…

Squall couldn't remember any of the words.

He shook his head. They were just stupid melodies now, with no words to make them mean anything. What was sound without meaning?

Kind of like "Merry Christmas". What did that mean?

Squall turned away from the depressing snowflakes, remembering his coffee. He needed something to distract him, and there was nothing like a shot of caffeine to get his brain ready for the mound of paperwork that awaited him. Some Christmas, he thought idly as he picked up his extra large black coffee mug with the silver handle.

He pulled out the coffee pot, and filled his mug up to the brink. He stirred it with a stirring stick, even though he hadn't put anything in the cup that needed stirring, and tossed the insignificant piece of red plastic in the garbage designated for such things. Picking up the mug, he turned around and caught sight of the snowflakes again. Wrapping his hand around the warmth of the ceramic, he took another moment to consider the meaning of the day as he took his first sip of the life-giving drink.

Maybe, he thought, people needed a day like this every now and then to break the monotony. If people went about their same business day after day without any change, they would grow stale and dull.

He took another sip of the coffee, which was exceptionally good this morning. Maybe it was just because he needed it so badly this morning after putting up with all the holiday cheer.

This day… it gave people a reason to be civil and nice to each other. Everyone fought for most of the year, finding every reason to distrust and hate… but on just this one day, people could take a break from the monotony of fighting and war and enjoy a change for peace.

Maybe that was what kept people from completely annihilating each other. It was when the Sorceress took away days like this that Esthar fell into that terrible Sorceress War. It was when Time Compression made everything the same that the people had fought back.

Squall suddenly realized as he took a long drink of coffee that people would fight and die for a day like this, not because the day itself was special… but because that was what made the day special. Regardless if it was religion or family or tradition – people all had their different reasons – this day was worth fighting for.

Feeling satisfied that he had come to his brilliant conclusion of the day, Squall sipped at his coffee again, and then realized that something was off. The coffee wasn't just particularly good this morning, it was different.

Had someone poisoned his coffee? Was this some secret plan of Galbadia's?

He went over to the coffeemaker and inspected the grounds. They looked normal and untampered with. He opened the cabinet where he kept his ample supply of coffee beans and noticed something different…

…something wrapped with gold, curly ribbon. It was a green foil bag that said "Esthar Special Roast" in scrawling letters…

…and a note.

Merry Christmas, Squall.