This is story will make so much more sense if you really known about Final Fantasy VIII. I don't own any of these characters either.

He remembered everything. He remembered crazy Selphie, energetic Zell, laid back Irvine, and big sister Quistis…but most of all, he remembered big, bold, angry Seifer Almasy. The man with the sun-drenched hair and jade colored eyes. The man he simultaneously loved and hated.

He had thought he'd been the only one who had survived after their world had been killed by the shadows. Then awkward little Sora showed up and one day spoke of a hyper girl named Selphie who dreamed of romance. Sora had spoken of more children, but later that day, Leon had confronted Sora and had asked questions about that girl.

It was after much thought that Leon concluded that somehow Selphie had survived, but her age had been reversed and her memories lost in the process. He really had to wonder if any others had survived. But as Sora talked more of the kids from his home, Leon realized that, no, none of them were from his home. Then he realized that there was a possibility that some of those kids may have been from other worlds and had lived other lives.

It wasn't until over a year later that two other kids from Sora's home were claimed to be from another world. It was after they had all met the Gullywings, those strange little faerie like beings. It was after much talk between them and Yuffie and a conversation between Sora and Merlin being overheard, but it was found out that two boys, Tidus and Wakka, were actually from the Gullywings' home. When the little brown-haired faerie heard this Tidus kid was there, she had burst into tears. The little blond faerie had wrapped one arm around her shoulders and said, "Don't cry, Yunie, we'll get him back." Then they had all flown off, chattering about how to get to Sora's home.

It was not soon after that that Leon heard Sora telling Yuffie about some bratty kid named Seifer. With a pounding heart, Leon had walked over, sat down, and said, "Tell me about this kid."

Sora had frowned and said, "He was kind of mean. Arrogant, too…" He had trailed off there.

"What did he look like?" Leon had pressed urgently, feeling something in his throat trying to choke off all words and breath.

"My height, skinny but muscular…and a scar that looked like yours but going in the opposite direction."

Well, that had sealed the matter. Standing up, Leon had said, "Take me to him."

They were on some world called Twilight Town; it was a quaint little town bathed in golden light. Once off the gummi ship, Sora took him to the place where this Seifer kid hung out.

And there—three kids. A slight girl with silver hair and a piercing eye of red—Fujin—and a dark skinned burly boy—Raijin. Then… a kid, a teenager of no more than fifteen years, a kid that barely reached his chin, a kid with golden blonde hair and defiant green eyes, and that scar…

The kid (Seifer) saw them and said to Sora, "Hey, Spikey, come back to get beaten again?"

Sora merely crossed his arms and looked up at Leon with an expression that screamed Why are we here?

"Hey kid," Leon started, "what's your name?"

The green eyes flickered over to him. "What's it to you, old man?"

Oh, that stung in ways Leon could have never imagined. He took a few steps forward, getting closer to the boy. "Just wondering."

The kid (SeiferSeiferSeifer) titled his chin up arrogantly. "Seifer Almasy."

So it was. Leon let his eyes trace over the sweeping scar. Instead of the angry red he had been used to, the scar was a faded tan color as if it had been there a while. "How'd you get that scar, kid?"

Seifer's eyes widened a bit as he really looked at Leon and saw the scar. Then his eyes narrowed again and he scowled. "Don't call me kid, old man."

The response was automatic. "Don't call me old man then." A bit of ways over, Sora looked at him. The people who had known him at Hollow Bastion would have just expected an icy glare instead of a response. But this was Seifer and things with Seifer were always different.

Seifer's expression morphed into something akin to wonder. "I've had it since birth." One square hand went up to touch it. Then it went back down to his side quickly, clenched into a fist. The expression disappeared to somewhere unknown as the familiar scowling one took its place. The look of wonder was still in those green eyes though. "What about you?"

His hand came up and traced over the familiar cut. Oh, he could still remember that half-angry, half-exhilarated look Seifer had worn as he had swung his Hyperion…He placed his hand over his own gunblade in remembrance. Seifer's eyes followed the movement, widened, and then went back Leon's face. "A friend," Leon murmured.

"Not much of a friend, are they?" Seifer asked, eyes curious. Leon let a small smirk slip through. No, Seifer hadn't been much of a friend, but he had been Seifer and that had been enough.

This kid wasn't Seifer. He may have looked like him, but deep down, this wasn't. Leon turned, ready just to back to Hollow Bastion and drink all of this away, but then Seifer stopped him with, "What's that?"

Leon turned. Seifer's eyes were focused on the gunblade, focused on the gleam the golden light gave it. "Gunblade," he muttered. Seifer would have had Hyperion already if had been back at Garden.

He turned again. Sora was already down the road, waiting impatiently. Another question stopped him. "What's your name, old man?" Leon glanced back. There was a look of truth half-hidden beneath the layers in the green eyes, struggling to get out. He opened his mouth—

"LEON!" Sora yelled. "You coming?"

The look died at the sound of his name. The angry look was back, but this time there was something wrong with it. It took a few seconds but then Leon placed it: there was a touch of sadness there, barely, but there. Only he would have noticed it.

Leon licked his suddenly dry lips. "My name is Squall Leonhart." Oh, there was something nice in revealing that old name to this Seifer. Something pleasant, even. That look rose up again, this time reaching the surface. As Leon (Squall) turned around and headed back to Sora, he had to wonder what that particular look meant and why he had wanted it there.

That night, a teenage boy in Twilight Town, a boy with sun-drenched hair and jade colored eyes and a faded scar, dreamed of a place with family. He dreamed of: a nosey, yet well-loved big sister with blonde hair and glasses; an energetic, tattooed boy (chickenwuss) that constantly bounced around; a hyper girl with bright eyes who dreamed of romance and happiness; and a laid back man with a drawling voice and quick eyes. There was something small, some persistent pest with brown hair and black eyes, that danced around the edges of his thoughts but it was brushed away.

And there was a man. A slender man with a mop of brown hair. A man with eyes the color of a sea during a storm. A man with quick hands and a quicker mind.

This teenage boy dreamed of the man and himself fighting with shining blades, half-grin, half-sneers on both their faces. And he dreamed of matching scars, scars that were exactly alike with the exception of the different angles, scars that would always connect them.

That teenage boy dreamed…and visited memories of a different life.