(Disclaimer: As a work of fanfiction, the creation of this piece does not imply ownership of the Final Fantasy franchise, its characters, or any affiliated intellectual property.)

Selphie was late. Irvine kicked the duffel bag at his feet, sending up a small cloud of dust, and watched people bustle through the Deling City airstation. Four years after Adel had come down and ended the worldwide signal interference, air travel had become common again, though it remained pricey if one was not traveling on their employer's gil. Luckily for Irvine, Balamb Garden was willing to make an expenditure on his behalf.

Or, more accurately, Laguna was. Irvine had not set foot in a Garden since the Trabia Garden restoration project wrapped up two years ago. He'd spent his time since drifting from one job to the next, and keeping his shooting skills sharp on the competitive circuit. He'd performed well enough there to coast on his winnings for a few months at a time, and to catch the attention of the Deling City chief of police at the last tournament.

"That was some impressive shooting out there today," the chief said, patting Irvine on the back.

"Oh, uh, thanks … sir." Irvine smiled sheepishly, unsure whether Galbadia Garden-level formality was necessary with the leader of the police force.

"It's Clayburn. And I'd like you to consider sharing your talent with the Deling City police someday. The department's tactical squad could always use a sniper with your skill." Clayburn handed him a business card. "Let me know if you're interested."

"Eh, I'll think about it." Irvine unceremoniously crammed the card into his wallet and excused himself. He wasn't sure he wanted to return to a life of orders and regimentation, not after surviving Garden. Besides, he didn't have time to think about that at the moment. Right now, he had a party to attend, and a small fortune at his disposal.

A few months later, his winnings dwindling, he was beginning to wonder where his next month's rent was coming from when Selphie contacted him with an offer. Since Ultimecia's defeat, Laguna had found more and more opportunities to contract SeeD – specifically, the same group he'd hired before, which came to be known within the organization as Balamb Garden's golden geese. Garden had secured a lucrative contract with the Estharian government for an annual two-week hunt, to cull the population of lunar creatures still in Esthar, and to collect items and specimens for study. Irvine had never been invited to participate, but Garden suddenly found itself in a tight spot following the resignation of one of its geese.

"So, Squall finally had it, huh?" Irvine said. "What, did he and Rinoa run off together or something?"

"Nope, Squall's still here," Selphie replied. "Rinnie, too."

"Well, it couldn't have been Zell. That guy's all about duty and loyalty and Garden-sanctioned punching."

"You're right. It was Quisty."

"Quisty?" Irvine screeched.

"Yep! Irvy, you've missed a lot!" Selphie giggled, then gleefully launched into a summary of what had happened.

Apparently, Quistis had gone to Esthar for a research project. That project turned into a job, and her research partner became a partner of a different sort. Or something like that. Irvine never got the whole story; Selphie kept interrupting herself to gush over Quistis' guy. Details didn't matter, anyway, because the end result was the same: Quisty had undertaken a project, snagged both a job and a boyfriend out of the deal, and moved to Esthar to start her new life.

As the shock wore off, Irvine felt a swell of pride for Quistis, though he doubted she would appreciate his language if he articulated why.

"So, how long ago did this happen?" he asked.

"Last year."

"Last year? Why didn't anyone call me then?"

"We couldn't track you down, and we didn't have the time. Quisty left right before the hunt. Rinnie stepped in to help, but Dr. Odine used that as an excuse to run some 'studies' on her, and he loaded her down with so many bangles and monitors and electrodes that she could hardly move on the battlefield. She wants to try again this year, but Cid will only let her if there's someone else to pick up her slack. I told Sir Laguna about it, and he asked me to call you."

"Well, at least I know Laguna remembers me."

"Oh, don't be like that! I didn't forget you. But I also wasn't about to go to Cid with any suggestions. He's been super critical of everyone since what happened with Quisty. Let's just say that a hunky librarian isn't the only reason she left Garden. Or even the main reason."

Irvine sighed. There was so much about Garden – about Selphie – that he didn't understand anymore. It seemed that everyone around him insisted on changing, and it felt like they did so only to spite him for his carefree and unburdened lifestyle. They didn't have to. If they were so jealous of it, they should try it themselves, starting with pulling those sticks out of their –

"So, you in?" Selphie's voice cut through Irvine's thoughts, her sunny tone bringing a smile to his lips despite his sour mood.

"I guess," he said.

"Irvy, I'm gonna need a real answer, so I can make the proper arrangements."

"Fine, but how am I getting paid? I'm not a SeeD."

"Esthar will draw up a civilian contract for you, like they did for Rinnie last year. Laguna will personally pay you for your service." She paused, and he could hear papers shuffling in the background. "So, yes or no? I really don't have all day."

"Uh, yeah." Irvine rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. "I've just got one more question for you, Sefie."

"Yeah?"

"When did you get so uptight?"

"I am not uptight!"

Irvine chuckled. That was the reaction he'd been looking for. Somewhere, beneath the layers of maturity and professionalism, the real Selphie Tilmitt survived.

"Oops, sorry, my mistake. But for a second there, you sounded just like Xu."

Amid shouts to take back his words, Irvine casually said goodbye and hung up. His heart felt lighter and his breath came easier. What had he been thinking? Selphie would never go and change on him.

Not really.

• • • •

Selphie spotted him first, and shouted his name across the airstation terminal. He looked up and found her in the crowd, decked out in her SeeD uniform and waving wildly. He waved back, but when he took too long to collect his duffel bag and weapon case, she rolled her eyes and walked toward him, briskly but stiffly.

"Ugh, I hate SeeD skirts!" she muttered. "They don't let you move. Thank goodness we don't have to fight in these things!"

"They look pretty good, though, especially with those boots," Irvine said. "I'd pay to watch a bunch of you ladies fight in that."

"I'm sure you would. Glad to see you're still the same, Irvy."

"Of course! I'll never change." He smiled, but noticed that Selphie seemed less than thrilled with his declaration. He cleared his throat and adjusted his grip on his luggage. "Anyway, what took you so long? I've been waitin' here forever!"

"Emergency maintenance on MogMog – er, Balamb Garden's other airship."

"MogMog? You named an airship?"

"Yes, I did." Selphie stood straight and put her hands on her hips. "I named both of them, after the sports teams at Trabia Garden."

"Really? What are we flying in today?"

"The Mach Chocobo."

Irvine laughed. "That's great! Sefie, you're awesome!"

"I know. So, you ready to go?"

"You bet!" He followed her toward the departure gate. "It's gonna be strange meeting up with everybody after so long. Do you think they'll remember me?"

"Irvy, for better or for worse, you're unforgettable."

"Heh-heh. I'll take 'for better,' please."

"You don't get to decide." Selphie tipped her head to the side, thinking. "Well, maybe you do. It depends on how you act." She gave him a sidelong glance.

"What? I'm always on my best behavior!"

She continued to look at him. He sighed and let his shoulders droop.

"Fine, I'll be on my extra-best behavior. No dirty jokes, no flirting, no tragic stories about how hard my job is."

"Good." They reached the airship and boarded, and as Selphie slid into the pilot's seat, a grin stretched across her face and her childlike enthusiasm returned. She jerked a thumb toward the seat next to her. "Take a load off, Irvy. You can be my co-pilot for today."

Irvine fastened his seatbelt and watched Selphie make preparations for takeoff. The engines roared to life, and she turned toward him, one eyebrow raised. He nodded, took a deep breath, and as the airship lifted off, they shouted in unison.

"Whoo-hoo! We're flying!"

• • • •

There was something different about Balamb Garden that Irvine couldn't quite put his finger on. The place still looked the same, with SeeDs and cadets milling about, chatting amongst themselves or striding purposefully toward the library or training center, but it was quieter than he remembered. It wasn't the near-silence of Galbadia Garden, but Balamb Garden seemed far less exuberant now. The students' eagerness, the excitement over becoming a SeeD, and the sense of community that fostered, seemed to have dimmed over the years. Was it because SeeD had already completed its fated mission? Because the rest of Garden got a firsthand look at what being a SeeD really meant from the group that faced down Ultimecia? Because the relative peace afterward had resulted in a lack of big contracts, and thus, a lack of funding to keep the place running in the same way?

Or, maybe it was just boredom. Irvine could definitely understand if it was.

Whatever it was, it had nothing to do with him anymore. He nodded at the people he passed, and even tipped his hat at a few female SeeDs as Selphie led him through the dormitories to an empty room in a wing reserved for visiting students and faculty.

"Here you are," she said brightly. "Your home for the night."

"Cool." Irvine flopped onto the bed and winced as the impact rippled through his body. He'd forgotten how hard these mattresses were. No wonder all these kids looked so grumpy. Nobody could get a good night's sleep on these beds.

"What's the matter, Irvy, tired already? Wow, you must be really out of shape!"

"No, I'm not! But what else is there for me to do?"

"Eat. Aren't you hungry? The cafeteria opened for dinner about half an hour ago. Come on!"

He followed Selphie through the cafeteria line, grinning uneasily as she kept requesting larger portions for him because he was a "special guest of SeeD." Tray in hand, Selphie scanned the room and led him to a table in the corner, where Rinoa sat, reading a book and absentmindedly finishing her dinner. She looked up as Selphie and Irvine approached, and smiled.

"Hi, Irvine," she said, putting down her book and moving her tray aside to make room for theirs. "It's been a while."

"Sure has, Miss Heartilly." Irvine sat down and studied her. "And, is it just me, or have you gotten prettier in the meantime? Those sorceress powers seem to be treating you we—" He stopped abruptly when Selphie elbowed him in the side.

"Sorry, Rinnie," she said. "Irvine still hasn't given up his sleazy ways."

"Oh, it's all right," Rinoa replied with a little laugh. "He's harmless."

"Harmless?" Irvine frowned.

"Besides, it's nice to know that some things don't change. After everything that's happened, I welcome a constant."

"A constant …" Selphie mulled over Rinoa's words. "Yeah, I guess that's what Irvy is. Kinda like the stars."

"Or the ocean."

"Or a sundial."

"Hmm, I like that comparison. Irvine staying the same shows us how much we've changed."

Irvine didn't like it. While he was more than happy to be compared to the ocean or the stars – especially by Selphie – he resented being seen as an object other people used to measure their own growth. Nonetheless, he laughed good-naturedly and tried to change the subject.

"So," he said, looking around, "where's the gallant knight?"

"Fighting the battle of the inbox." Rinoa groaned. "Cid's kept him buried in pointless paperwork for months. It's gotten so bad, he told me he was actually looking forward to our assignment."

"Squall, wanting to go to Esthar? He remembers Laguna's there, right?"

"Laguna is the lesser of two evils for him right now. Besides, they're getting along pretty well."

"Aww, father-son bonding?"

"No, and I'm not sure if it'll ever get to that point. But in a professional context, they seem comfortable with one another. Squall actually listens to him, and Laguna has learned to stop talking every now and then and give him room to speak."

"See?" Selphie mumbled, her mouth full of food. "Even Squall and Laguna have changed." She swallowed. "Which makes it super-duper strange that you haven't."

"Hey, I don't have to change," Irvine said. "You can't improve on perfection, anyway."

"Perfection?" Selphie pursed her lips, her shoulders shaking, before erupting into loud laughter. Rinoa joined her, pounding the table and wiping at her eyes. They stopped for a moment and looked at him. Then, Selphie repeated herself, and they began again.

Irvine gave a smug grin, but shifted in his seat and began picking at his food. What was up with all this judgment about change and growth? Why did Selphie care so much? Why did anybody? He was fine with his life, and, if he was honest, their comments were dripping with resentment. They'd changed, and they weren't happy about it. Well, it wasn't his fault.

And it wasn't his problem to solve.

After the ladies had spent themselves laughing, they moved on to other topics, trying their best to include Irvine by providing context via anecdotes and incidental details. He appreciated their effort, but despite it, he remained largely on the periphery of the conversation.

Soon, Zell joined them, followed by Squall. They both greeted Irvine more warmly than he'd expected them to, and settled down with their own meals. For a moment, it felt as if time had rewound itself, as if they were the same group of kids who'd taken down a powerful sorceress just months before, now wondering about their next move, and enjoying their time together. But as the conversation ramped up once more, Irvine was left behind. SeeDs, it seemed, moved at a different pace than most people, and even Rinoa, who years before, had shared his fear of falling out of step with them, had acclimated to it.

Selphie and Rinoa gestured and laughed, Zell shouted, Squall grumbled, and Irvine smiled awkwardly, struggling to keep up, grasping at anything familiar to stay afloat in this strange new current.

• • • •

The kiosks didn't judge.

Technically, they couldn't, being machines. But after all the questions and comments and stares he'd weathered from his old friends, Irvine was happy to have an impartial interaction, if only with a touch-screen.

Besides, the kiosk didn't give him any funny looks when he selected the latest issue of Girl Next Door, though he was surprised to find it in Esthar. Apparently, beneath their pristine robes and pompous attitudes, some Estharians were just as dirty-minded as he was. He chuckled, and wondered whether he could use this revelation to his advantage with the local ladies.

He finished his shopping – the magazine, a few Hi-Potions, and a couple boxes of ammo – and was on his way back to the hotel to rest up for the next day, balancing the items in his arms, when a woman came scurrying around the corner and collided with him. His purchases went flying, along with whatever she was carrying, and they both landed hard on their backsides.

"Ow! Oh, sheesh, I'm sorry, ma'am!" Irvine scrambled to his feet and helped her up.

"No, I should apologize. I wasn't looking where I was going." The woman dusted the back of her robe – an unnecessary action in this part of the city – and laughed awkwardly. She stooped and began collecting her belongings, and Irvine did the same. When he noticed his magazine lying open to a particularly salacious spread, however, he flushed, then lunged and scooped it up, along with his other items, and bid the woman a hasty farewell.

That was close. Just because some shops had begun selling this magazine in Esthar didn't mean everybody wanted to see it, especially some woman who was clearly in a hurry to get someplace else.

Back at the hotel, Irvine entered the room he was sharing with Squall and Zell, and noticed neither of them had returned yet. He knocked on the door to the adjoining room, but neither Selphie nor Rinoa seemed to be in, either.

Perfect.

He pulled off his boots and stretched out on his bed, prepared to while away the afternoon with Darlin' Darlene, Svelte Svetlana, and – who could forget? – Bodacious Bernadette. When he shoved his other items aside to retrieve the magazine, however, something caught his eye. One of the ammo boxes was a slightly different color. He picked it up and realized, with a sinking feeling, that it was not his. He must have taken one of that lady's things during the confusion. How was he ever going to return it to her? Go back to the shopping mall and hope she comes back, too? Or, maybe Esthar had some kind of city-wide lost-and-found. What about an ad … but an ad in what? Did Esthar even have a traditional newspaper?

As he was wondering what to do with the box, he turned it over and noticed a bright red stamp on the top: PROPERTY OF ODINE LABORATORIES. This had just gotten very interesting. Another side of the box had a printed label attached. He squinted at it, and a mischievous grin spread across his face. BLUE BULLETS, the label read. YAULNY CANYON SKILLSET. SAMPLE – FOR LABORATORY TRIALS ONLY. Ignoring another proprietary stamp, Irvine opened the box and slid out a cardboard insert holding a dozen bullets filled with different-colored gels. A handwritten card correlated each color to a specific creature – yellow was Wendigo, green was Cockatrice. Blue for Grendel, and red for Funguar.

What could this mean? What were these kooky Estharians up to now?

Irvine pulled out a bullet for inspection. It was large, more a shell than a bullet, and reminded him of the Fire Ammo he'd used before. In fact, it appeared to use the same hull. It would definitely work with his gun.

He laid back and considered the possibilities. Maybe he could figure out what these mystery bullets were for himself. He didn't have to use them all, just a couple, just to see what was so special about them, and how they were connected to the monsters listed in the note.

Maybe he would even make some discovery, bypass all those laboratory tests and government regulations these poor bullets were destined to languish in for years, and single-handedly change firearms combat and shooting competitions forever.

After all, wasn't change what everybody seemed to want from him?

He replaced the bullet and slid the box into the nightstand drawer. No, this wasn't his ammo; it was better. It was a chance to shake up the old routine, to try something new.

"Watch out, moon monsters,"he said aloud, grinning even wider. "Irvine Kinneas is back in town. New and improved!"


Author's Note: I borrowed the term "blue bullet" from Final Fantasy X-2 because, frankly, it was perfect for the concept here. The usage of this term in no way indicates a crossover between the two games.