Violet eyes lied. They said he was smooth, easy, content; they were too bright, too clear to be real. Too honest to be wrong. But they lied.
He lied, too. So easily that it hurt sometimes, because it should have cost him more to do it.
So when Selphie told him she loved him, and he said it back, he felt nothing at all for the lie. Violet eyes were oh-so-sincere, and he let her enjoy it for a few days before crushing all that sweetness and light.
She hated him, then. She should have. He couldn't be upset by it. He deserved it for the lies he'd told, all the leading her on he'd done.
Irvine Kinneas didn't sulk often. He seldom showed anything but the casual, playful outer layer; the flirtatious cowboy, occasionally the serious sniper, the man who was always there with a smile and a joke, or to be the butt of an off-the-record jest. It was easier to be what people wanted than to be himself. To lie until he had nothing left, just the emptiness in his stomach and the back of his mind that felt like pure Silence junctioned into him.
The thought made a mirthless chuckle escape him, a shadow of his usual laughter. He'd come out tonight to stop thinking, not to come up with a bunch of goddamn metaphors for his own stupidity.
'Out' wasn't much: as a full-fledged SeeD, he could leave Garden as he liked, but even though they weren't much on alert anymore, Squall ran a pretty tight ship. Irvine hadn't wanted to deal with people tracking his movements, so he'd just climbed up to one of the open decks, enjoying the air while he could get it. Too much of the place just felt confining.
Apparently he wasn't the only one who thought so. The faint whirr of the mechanized door caught his attention; he wouldn't have been much good as a fighter if he didn't have top-notch senses, after all. He didn't bother glancing around, though. Nothing in this Garden was a threat to him, and even if some big bad had snuck up on him, it wasn't like he had a weapon to shoot at it. He'd left Exeter on the rack above his bed, not caring to cart the rifle around when he knew he wouldn't need it.
Footsteps were a little echoey on the metal of the deck, and they stopped where the sniper could feel body heat, a heavy presence at his back, slightly to one side. Didn't bother him any. If whoever it was wanted a chat, they'd have to strike it up, though.
For a few moments there was silence. Irvine just kept watching the sky, not bothering with so much as a hello.
"Guess I should say congratulations are in order, Kinneas." The smooth voice was familiar, but most were, these days. Seifer had come back to Balamb once it had touched down again, had made a place for himself despite some frightened protests from a few of the students. "'cept that chatterbox has decided to turn her attentions elsewhere. I've gotta deal with her now."
"Selphie came to you for a shoulder to cry on?" The cowboy's response was frankly disbelieving, and he could feel Seifer shake his head behind him, laughing. "Nah, but she's got some magic over Raijin. He'd probably have throttled you by now, if he weren't such a damn idiot." The insult was mostly affectionate. Seifer had an odd way of showing friendship, Irvine had always known that. All the SeeDs from Edea's orphanage had reacted to their lack of parentage in different ways. The sniper coped with lies and humor; Seifer preferred rage.
Now Irvine did turn, just barely, glancing over his shoulder at the blonde. The pleasant mask looked a hell of a lot like his own usual expression. He got the feeling it was more honest on Seifer, though. The man had too short a fuse to be half the dissembler Irvine was.
"Sorry to inconvenience ya," came the usual drawl, the cowboy's voice bearing the same idle humor as it usually did. Sulking about his own mistakes was all well and good when he was on his own, but as soon as someone else was in the picture, he was back to playing a part.
The blonde waved a hand in dismissal of that half-serious apology, finally stepping up on the level with the sniper. "Don't be. We were making bets on when you'd man up and drop her, anyway."
He had to admit, he was a little surprised at that. Irvine wasn't sure who else the 'we' included, but he hadn't taken Seifer for one to give a damn about other people's relationships. Not unless he was mocking them about it, and the cowboy had never been a major target. Squall or Zell, yes; Irvine, hardly ever. He didn't rise to the bait as the other two did. Maybe that meant it wasn't worthwhile for the blonde, since he wasn't going to get a rise out of the sniper.
"Why?" It was an idle question, and Irvine looked away again.
Seifer fixed him with a candid look, silent until the sniper had to glance over, just to stop the feeling of eyes boring into the side of his head. The easy, pleasant look had gone, and Irvine wasn't sure what to make of the man's expression. "You two didn't work together. Any idiot could see that. But she sure as hell wasn't going to." Shrugging, that unreadable facial expression melted into something more normal - boredom, that hint of unending irritation that always seemed to be on his face. "Guess you finally got the balls up to break the bad news. Like I said, I'd congratulate you, but..." Another shrug and a broad gesture. Irvine just shook his head.
"What're you doing out here, anyway?" The blonde was talkative tonight, and the cowboy wasn't. An unusual reversal, that was for sure.
"Tryin' to think. Hard to do with you clutterin' up my brain with chatter," and there was that usual joking, casual demeanor. It fell a little flat tonight, though. Irvine still felt utterly empty with lying, as though piling on more lacks of truth would send him beyond feeling anything. Better than whining and cursing his fate, he guessed, but not by much.
"Sorry." Again the sniper had to shoot him a look, just to be sure he'd heard correctly. Seifer Almasy didn't apologize for anything. But there was no sarcasm in the tone, no biting insult along with it. Even stranger, the other actually went quiet then, as if taking Irvine's wishes into account.
There was something off tonight. Something he was missing, maybe.
Violet eyes scanned the sky, but the quiet that had been comfortable felt almost pressing now. "Somethin' wrong?" He had to ask, if only to dispel the momentary weirdness. Irvine was, if anything, a people-pleaser, even if most of that was still just lies.
"Yeah, you." Seifer was full of surprises. The sniper fought the urge to turn and look at him and failed, finding that bluntly honest expression turned on him again. The voice matched it, open and somehow... concerned. Did Almasy ever show concern over anyone? Even Fuujin and Raijin were treated with the friendly disdain that the blonde reserved for the people he was closest to, not any outright pleasantness. "I'm not blind, cowboy, and I'm certainly not stupid. You're all messed up about something, and I know it's not Selphie. I mean, come on." The look on his face made plain that he didn't think much of the girl, exasperating as she could be. Besides, she'd kicked his ass more than once in the war. It wasn't like he held any fondness for her just because they'd grown up together.
"You don't do this. You smile and you laugh, and when you think nobody's looking you come out and you let your guard down, but you don't just show nothing." There was actual worry in the voice, shockingly, though it was in faint undertones. Seifer wasn't the sort to weep and whine and ask if you were all right. "Talk." That was more like him, demanding and expecting to be obeyed. The Disciplinary Committee leader all over again, even though Irvine had only heard stories about that. The blonde had always been domineering, though, even as a kid.
But the sniper hadn't listened to him then, and he didn't now, features curving into a smile again. He shrugged gracefully, even managed a laugh that sounded normal. "You're all up in arms over nothin', Almasy. Ain't nothin' wrong with me." Maybe he was shaken, but that didn't mean he owed anyone an explanation. Why should Seifer give a damn, anyway? He didn't. He was only talking so much out of curiosity, maybe, or some vestiges of childhood friendship that he'd all but forgotten. Irvine didn't need to tell him why, even if he'd all but hit the nail on the head.
He couldn't stay. He lifted a hand, tipped his hat ironically to the blonde, and started to move. There were other places to be out and alone, and maybe leaving Garden for a while wasn't the worst idea, even if it meant he had to make note of his whereabouts. Squall wouldn't bother him. Seifer wouldn't know to.
A hand grabbed his shoulder - both hands, fingers digging in with bruising force. They spun him and clamped down again, flexing and shaking the sniper, rattling him in his bones. The outright anger on the blonde's face was at least more familiar, although Irvine had rarely seen that venom directed at him. He didn't like being disobeyed, and he didn't like being ignored.
"You goddamn idiot! You don't just walk away," and there was another shake, though Irvine didn't seem bothered by the pain of it. Another lie played across his face, that of utter ignorance, and Seifer had to fight not to hurt him more, just to see something again. "I fucking come out here because there's something wrong, because I know there's something damn well wrong, and you won't even drop the act for a fucking second? You don't have to trust me, Kinneas; for fuck's sake, nobody else does. Just let me know what the hell's going on, let me try - " He'd said too much, clamped his mouth shut and shot that acid glare at the sniper.
That shook him more than all the physical jerking about. Violet eyes stared, and Irvine asked the same question he had before. "Why?"
Seifer shoved him back, then, hands balling into white-knuckled fists; Irvine half-thought he was going to go for his gunblade, before noticing that Hyperion wasn't anywhere on the other tonight. Just like the sniper, he'd been wandering without a weapon. Another odd behavior for the blonde.
"Do I have to have a fucking ulterior motive? Can't it just be that I don't like seeing a friend all fucked up and twisted?" He was still raging, but he was trying to restrain it now. Trying to keep himself from hurting the cowboy. If it had been anyone else, any of the other guys at least, he wouldn't have held back.
"We've never been friends." The sniper's voice had gone cool and empty, and he wasn't sure if he was being honest or telling another lie.
Seifer stopped altogether, unmoving for a moment. Even the tension clearly singing through the blonde's body seemed to hesitate, for a second everything going still. When he moved again, it was to shake his head, the violence gone from the motion, but he'd turned his gaze away from the sniper. He didn't look up. "No. Just kids together and enemies, and the last is fresh enough to take away anything the first might have left behind." He sounded angry still, and bitter. Irvine almost apologized, but held his tongue.
"Get out of here." It was the blonde's turn to be cold now, his usual hot-button rage faded to an icy core. He sounded more like Squall than Irvine would ever tell him, in that moment - he probably would take it as an insult.
He didn't argue. He had been going anyway, and now there was all the more reason to turn on his heel and leave, letting Seifer have the privacy of the deck. Not that it had helped Irvine think anything out, but maybe the blonde would fare better. At least he might cool off a little, so the scared students wouldn't have something real to be afraid of.
And when he saw those scared students again in the morning, teaching a SeeD class in long-range combat because there was no other job for a sniper like him at the moment, he smiled and teased and joked, but violet eyes couldn't lie that there was something in the back of his mind, troubling.
