"Introduction"
A Final Fantasy 8 Quistis/Fujin story
By Al Kristopher
It would be so typical to start this story at the beginning. So we met and decided we were good together, so what? It's been done before and it will be done again. You always did say you liked trying new things, be they minor or large. Let's start something new and skip ahead, to a more fascinating part of our story.
Story? This is no fairy tale. It's a series of events that run in a subsequent manner. It was all cause and affect, just like everything. I know what you're going to say—thus saith the atheist—but I can't see any God interfering in this, our relationship. And why would they? Wouldn't they have better things to do? I'm not starting a theology session; I'm just saying that these are events, not a fanciful story.
You're mad because we fought. The story should've started a few days before we had that fight. It really is an interesting tale, no matter what you say. We hadn't quite gotten our legs yet from the disastrous opening of our romance, and like a baby deer just born, we stumbled around clumsily, two people unsure about themselves or their love, or even if they had a love. We had met before, never on good terms, and found ourselves confined, locked in, frustrated. Earlier, I mean. All this trouble I speak of, the fight and everything, it happened much later. Weeks.
I sure did rip your clothes off pretty quickly while we were stuck there. I hated you once upon a time, you know. I was the girl from the wrong side of the tracks, and you the elegant queen who had Balamb in the palm of her hand! You still do, if I recall; you've not slipped at all, despite all this clumsiness you speak of. And yet despite the chasm that separated us, I found myself tearing into you, mixing hate with love until I discovered I was no longer in control of my body. Instinct, I'd say, my animal instinct. Some subconscious thought of mine wanted you, that distant queen. I had to have you, and I did.
I always say, we want the most what we cannot have. But we definitely indulged; that, however, is not the point I'm making. How you do interrupt me so. …I'm sorry, we're fighting yet again. I think it's that whole rift you spoke about. It's unfortunate to say, but I don't think we'll ever understand each other, no matter how much we convince ourselves of some sweetness. I'd say that our shared inexperience was more of a chasm than our status. I mean, let's face it, I'm not exactly an expert, and you…
Do you really have to give me that look? Yes, it was awkward, and we found ways of avoiding each other, of limiting our time together, of keeping the silence cold. I hated you then, too, because I loved you. I was confused. I was both. I had liked our little session, strange and impromptu though it was. I liked it and I wanted more, or a part of me did. I fooled myself into hating you, and what I had done, knowing that it was written all over my face. The mark of infidelity was strong on you too; I could see it by the way you stared, or did not stare.
When we talked about it at last, I found out I had nothing to say. What can one do in those situations? We ended up reenacting that one moment, again and again, perhaps kicking a dead horse. Were we dooming ourselves? I can't imagine all the things that must be going through your head now. I felt our relationship was empty, and all we did was engage in sex, sex, meaningless sex. God, it was good, though, every moment of it. But I wanted more—could I have that with you?
We fought terribly after that. I told you how deeply I hated you, stupid queen of the school. She just has everything in her life! She never had to work for any of it—all the beauty, the adoration, the talent and the wisdom! All effortless with her! I struggled every moment of my life, and for what? To stay on the bottom of the ladder, trampled on by everyone who found their life so easy, so damned easy…
You were jealous?
Shut up. I hate you!
Fujin…
Don't! I hate you! Just leave me alone!
…Our story, you see, is one of tragedy, of confusion and misunderstanding. Some would say that it's sweet, romantic, daring, all those exciting and beautiful words. Those on the outside don't know the pain of the ones on the inside. I couldn't say that I yearned for her, because one who's never known love—adoration, perhaps, but never real genuine love—she fears every action she takes. I was so afraid. I felt so insufficient. Do you really think my life is easy? Every moment I hate myself, because of the hole in my heart that Love does not occupy. I don't have any. I never had any. Perhaps you really hate me because I don't know how to properly love you. Why am I thinking all this anyway? I'm going to go mad.
I hate you, I hate you—but I can never convince myself of that. In truth I yearn for you, even though I don't know what yearning really is. I want you. I want you here, now, at my bed, in it or on it, I don't care. And I hate you. But I want you. Do I need you? Some say that people who have never known love all of a sudden are granted with its powers, once another comes into their life. Can it really be said that only now, now at this time, coincidental as our meeting was, that I have found love? I hate you because I love you; you made me feel these things, something I've never experienced. I'm scared.
Nothing can cleanse me. All the things I used to love now only offer suffocation. I can't breathe. I think I hate you. I think I want to stab you and… I badly need you. Need? Wait a second! Isn't that a foreign concept to me? I've never "needed" anything, except nourishment and hope. All I need are things with which survival depends upon! Would you enhance at all my "life"? Would you make survival more important, or…more intense? You see, I'm going crazy! I can't straighten any of this out, and nothing helps!
God, why am I crying?
God, why am I crying?
I think I miss you.
We've got to straighten all this nonsense out. We have to talk. I'm going to see you right now, because this has got to stop, now. Win or lose, we've got to confront each other, and our fears. I have so many fears; I don't even want to list them. I'm going to see you to confront everything, and even though I may face even more loss, at least I can try to stop stumbling and walk upright. You may have caused me to become disoriented, but by the end of this night, everything will be settled, once and for all. …God, I feel like I'm going off to war…or to visit a lover I've not seen in years.
Quistis, if I ever see you again, I'll slap you in the face. Then I think I'll cry on your shoulder. I hate you because you've popped the cork that broke the dam, unleashing all this unwanted emotion from me. Well, maybe not unwanted; I have to admit I like some of it. Most of it scares me, probably because it's so alien. Love frightens me because I've never felt it, so maybe that's why… Uh, bear with me, please. I'm trying to make sense out of all of this. Can't say it's very easy. …Wait—is that you knocking at my door?
I knocked at her door. She opened it. Later, she told me she wanted to slap me, but all she did was reach out and take me into her arms—right where I belonged. Oh, we talked for hours, rendering our throats dry and weary, but I think we made progress. Maybe, once we wake up in the morning, we can look at each other again and smile. I'm hopeful. We can start over, look at things in a new way, forgive each other for our mistakes—and we are going to make them. I admit, I'm more foolish than you think I am, and I'm no queen. You should see me when I cry.
Oh, I've seen you cry, Quistis.
No. Those were happy tears. I cried because I loved you.
Yeah. I love you too. Or as much as my understanding of love permits me, anyway.
This is a path that has never been tread before. We're going to have to cut a lot of thorns and branches out of the way, and there are plenty of rocks underneath to cause us to stumble. I think we've got a chance, though. Just as long as you're willing.
Yeah. I am. But only if you mean it.
Mean what?
That you love me.
Well…as much as my understanding permits me.
end