A/N: This occurs in an unspecified period of time before the destruction of Trabia and likely before the problems with the Sorceress began, simply because I can't think of a good place to stick it in relation to the game. I also must apologize for the length. It went waaaaay beyond what I had intended. Should I perhaps break it into a couple chapters?
Oh yeah- and I don't own FFVIII or anything related. Just a copy of the game...which I have not beaten in three years of play- shut up!
As Selphie walked onto the field at Trabia, she couldn't help but sigh. It was a mixed sigh, to be sure. A little happiness, a little nostalgia, and a lot of not looking forward to those pushups. Sure, she reasoned, they'd help me with my 'chakus, but I really don't need that. She looked around her, scanning for familiar faces among the crowd of the fresh meat newly arrived for the sadistic pleasures of that year's - Come to think of it, Selphie realized, I have no idea who made it this year. She cocked her head and ran through everyone she knew might have had an interest Quisty? No…she's too leadery already…Seifer? Nah…too much of a temper to pull anything off…he'd like, kill us all if we got outta line…Zell? Definitely not…not the attention span for it…Squall? She paused, shifting her weight on her feet. Oh no…anyone but him…But the familiar figure making his way across the open field with quick, sure strides gave her the answer sure enough. Shit…
A whistle blew, hard and shrill against the excited chatter around her, and she scrambled to assemble her weapon of the day…or rather; the next week and beyond. After several years of practice, she could put it together and have it ready to go in under thirty seconds. Its shine in the morning sunlight made her giggle. It was just so…pretty. But she didn't have time to think about it right then, she had to go. Selphie raced across the field to stand as close as she could to the spot she knew would be hers that year, trying hard not to collide with any of the new members milling around confused and lost. As the final whistle blew, she just barely got herself into an acceptable attention pose. Gosh that was close… she sighed inwardly, attempting to settle her mind into the focus she knew was required of them…but, well…it was the first day. And she had never been more excited. This is my year, she thought with confidence. I can feel it!
Someone managed to collide with her post-whistle, running straight into her as though she hadn't even been there. Selphie was knocked into the kid next to her, who she very quickly realized was out of place.
"Zeeelllll!" she hissed, jumping back into her spot. "Get with your squad!" She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, her head facing front as it should have been. She saw him grin and resituate himself right where he had been. She giggled a little internally, a smile breaking her features. "Get!" she ordered half-heartedly as he began to wiggle around, imitating horribly the younger students around them. Another whistle brought them both back to attention, Selphie's heart racing ever-so-slightly at the sound.
"I'm sure all of you are excited to be here," Squall began. A small wave of assorted whoops and groans passed momentarily through the assembly before him. He continued. "But there are things to be done this week. Training which must be done to prepare you for what lies ahead. I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know if all of us will make it." A hush fell upon the new attendees as they realized what he was saying. "But I know that we have to remember what happens this week. Upperclassmen watch after the underclassmen as best you can. What happens here will determine who makes it and who doesn't." Squall paused, climbing the small platform set out for him, and regarded the lines of Garden students before him, some straighter than others. You can always spot the new ones, he groaned inwardly. But he looked out at them and said with what could have been considered a smile:
"Welcome to Band Camp, returning members and…fresh meat…alike." The older students chuckled in a way that made the underclassmen shift nervously. "I am your Drum Major. You will follow orders or you will be punished. That's the way this works. It won't be easy."
"Yeah, but it's the best week of hell you'll ever have!" Zell hollered. This statement was met with a sturdy whoop from the returning classes. Selphie wiggled in excitement. Squall blew his whistle sharply.
"That's enough, Zell," he ordered. The laughter died and he left his platform to pace the sideline. "We are hosted this year by Trabia Garden," he paused for a whoop that did not come. Fine, they are falling in already. Good, he marked. "As it is their turn in the rotation. Follow the rules of your own Garden as well as those of our hosts. Local students, please assist those who are not familiar with the campus." Selphie grinned, wriggling excitedly again. Squall looked at her. "Selphie, this is not a wiggle contest." She blushed and stopped. The crowd laughed hesitantly around her, Zell's rowdy laughter cutting above the rest. Selphie blushed further and reset herself at attention. Squall continued his speech. He had planned much of it the night before, remembering his first Drum Major's constant composure and control and the advice he had left him. "Lead if you're going to lead, Bass." The words still echoed in his head. He had believed in the silent student that watched him as they rehearsed, and named him after the kid's instrument of choice, the bass clarinet. He had, for a while, filled the shoes that Sis had left empty.
"Everyone inside. Be in the rehearsal hall at 9h00 for a run-through on a few pieces." The crowd began to move as a wave of talk quickly rose. The whistle blew sharp and short, and they froze, a few underlings teetering in their awkward positions. "I expect everyone to have their music and be seated with their section by five to!" Some of the upperclassmen laughed before the mob resumed motion.
Selphie took the opportunity to squeal like the girl she was, jumping slightly and waving her flute. "Band Camp Band Camp Band Camp!" she shrieked. A few new kids looked at her, laughing to themselves. Selphie didn't care. They'll see, she thought, her grin broadening. One week and they'll be hooked. Which reminded her of something else. She stopped jumping and scanned the moving crowd again, tapping her flute impatiently on her shoulder. Not finding him, she sighed a little through her smile and skipped, literally, off to the rehearsal hall.
When she arrived, she knew right away something was up. There was a twittering about the hallways that signaled only one thing: a fight. Selphie groaned. She just knew who it would be. It was inevitable. She rushed into the hall, hoping as always to break them up. She worried every time that something dreadful would happen to him . Neither of them had ever really learned to control their tempers, but he least of all.
"DON'T CALL ME CHICKEN-WUSS!" he yelled, setting back in his fighting stance. Seifer laughed, opening his arms in the universal sign for "bring it." And Zell did. As she started to yell, before she could get close enough to do anything, he swung. Hard and fast. And it was obvious to all present that this action had totally surprised his opponent and the likely antagonist. Seifer rocked back, his head snapping back as Zell's fist connected with his nose and a sickening crunch was heard in all corners of the hall. Selphie winced as it began to spurt blood and glared daggers at Zell as she shoved her way through the gathered students to administer whatever healing she could.
"BOOYA!" Zell cried, jumping around in his stance. "That'll show you! Who's the wuss now, Seifer?" he gloated, a triumphant smile on his face. He caught sight of Selphie pushing her way over, his eyes meeting her glare, and he turned red and stopped bouncing, turning away and rubbing the back of his head with one hand. Seifer just stood there, face bright red from blood and anger and humiliation. Look at what that chicken-wuss's done now, he complained, Gone and broken my nose. Damn! He glared around the hall, daring the occupants to comment. They looked away and began shifting to their seats. Except for Zell, who continued to stand there searching for something to say, caught between his triumph and anger and increasing embarassment, and Selphie, who had by then reached his side and was fishing in her pockets for a potion or something.
"Hold still!" she told him. He rolled his eyes and backed up, about to protest, when he caught the flash of something on Zell's face. Is the wuss…jealous? he asked himself, a smirk spreading on his face.
"Fine," he spat, pulling his hand away from his face and letting more blood spill down the front of him. Several students that had still been watching blanched and scurried away. Selphie administered the potion and checked it over, getting a little bloody in the process herself. Good thing I spent so much time tailing the nurse in the infirmary here, she thought, still fuming at the idiocy of what Zell had done, though some little part of her was glad someone had finally done it. Now maybe the crook that would result would remindSeifer to keep his mouth shut once in a while...
"You'd better go to the infirmary," she told him, "It's definitely broken." She wiped the blood off her hands and onto her short yellow dress without thinking. "Down that hall, past three doors, make a right and it's the second door on the left," she directed, gesturing impatiently in the general direction of the door. Seifer left, throwing one last smirk at the boiling blond behind them. Selphie then spun around and glared at Zell again. "That has got to be the stupidest thing I've ever seen you do!" she shrieked. "You know you could be in serious trouble for that! You could be like, kicked out of the band or something!" Zell stood there, mouth gaping and face reddening.
"He- I-" he stammered, searching for a justification. "Agghh!" he groaned angrily, punching the floor and storming out of the hall.
Why me? she thought, shaking her head. Stupid boys. But she was soon distracted as the warning whistle was blown. Squall's warning could be heardbooming through the halls; "Let's MOVE, people!"
Omigod, where's my music! Selphie scanned the hall frantically, finally relaxing when she realized she had left it on her usual chair. By then, the hall was filled, and after quieting the underclassmen and doling out a few punishments for forgotten or misplaced music, the rehearsal commenced. Seifer and Zell never returned. No one commented on their absence, either.
Post-rehearsal, they were given a 15-minute break, and Selphie wandered off to her room, where she proceeded to pull out a well-worn notebook and doodle. Hearts and little swirly designs and bubble-letter initials soon filled the page as she hummed cheerfully to herself. Checking the clock nearby, she saw that she had five minutes and jumped up off her pink-quilted bed, giving each of her stuffed animals a hug before leaving the equally pink and fluffy-looking room. She had forgotten all about the fight that had happened not two hours ago. She was far too excited about the on-field practice about to occur. I love teaching the newlings! she thought with a squeal.
Halfway through the lessons, Zell returned. He wandered up to where she was teaching a rather large mob of newlings the basics of motion. She grinned at him and continued gently coaxing one gangly student through not tripping over his feet during a right flank as the others practiced miniature box drills of four steps each. He watched for a few moments, then slowly sidled up next to her, where he stood awkwardly scratching the back of his head.
"Uh…" he started. She looked back over her shoulder at him.
"Yeah?" she responded, trying not to give away the tiny increase her pulse had made as he approached.
"Uh…" He looked around, trying to find something to comment on. His eyes drifted from Squall spinning the mace off in the corner of the field to the piles of instruments on the sideline, to the neat eight-step markings on the grass, and inevitably back to her. "Uh…you've got blood on your legs," he finished lamely. She looked down and groaned, seeing he was right. Shit. she thought.
"Omigod, not again!" she joked, remembering last year when he had spilled an entire cafeteria-sized bottle of ketchup on her at lunch. She had been so mad afterwards he had avoided her like the plague for the rest of the season, and the others had jokingly called it the blood from his murder, asking the whole year what she ever did with the body. "At least this time it wasn't you!"
He laughed, knowing what she was referring to. "Yeah, but it was my fault. Sorry…" he trailed off again, smiling sheepishly.
"S'ok," she told him, returning the smile. They stood there, neither of them knowing what to say next.
"Um…ok," Zell muttered, breaking the awkward silence. "I guess you've got your hands full with the fresh meat over here, I'll just, uh-"
"Ohhh no you don't! You're gonna stay right here and help!" she commanded. "You five! Yeah, you, the sax players! Go grab your instruments; Zell's gonna help you not march like a percussionist," she yelled to half the kids around her. They obeyed without question, walking off chatting. "RUN!" she hollered after them. They took off scared. She turned back to the five remaining, including the gangly one. "You, atten-TION!" They snapped to it, and Zell laughed. Selphie's head snapped over her shoulder to regard him, eyebrows raised. "That means you, too! Atten-TION!" They smiled at each other for a moment, realizing the joke within, and he obeyed, forming the sloppy pose common to his section.
Between them, they managed to get those ten marching, however obvious it still was that they were new to the idea and the action. Then came the fun part. A whistle blew.
"Assemble squads!" Squall yelled. Zell and Selphie and the rest of the upperclassmen cheered. The fresh meat looked around nervously as they were grabbed and herded and mixed amongst the upperclassmen as the crowd arranged itself in two lines of squads four people each. This resulted in an eight-person front with people arranged four steps apart in every direction. When they had settled sufficiently, Squall finished his announcement. "It is time for the first round of Elimination."
"WOOO!" Zell screamed. Selphie wiggled and turned around momentarily to smile at him. The newlings glanced around quizzically. Squall continued.
"The idea is an exercise in precision and obedience. I give the commands, and you follow them. Anyone in your squad messes up, and the whole squad is out. Last squad standing leaves first for lunch. Leader of that squad waives their audition for squad leader later, as well as gains the right to choose the members of their squad." He paused, waiting for the idea to sink in. "Any questions?" He paused again and smiled wickedly. "Good. Atten-TION!" Selphie and everyone around her snapped with the sound of eighty or so voices yelling in unison; "ONE!" And the game began.
Squad after squad after squad fell out around her. Until at the last, it was her squad…and his. When she realized this, hearing his voice over the meeker underclassmen holding their own in their squads, her heart dropped. Omigod, what do I do? I can't lose this, but…She turned in response to the next command, making a perfect and tight left-face, where she could see him there at the end of his squad, his attention perfect as it never was when he wasn't playing the game.
"Hey, aren't there hotdogs for lunch today?" she heard one of the younger students quietly ask another nearby as Squall began to rapid-fire commands, hoping to catch them sleeping on their feet.
"Yeah, I think so," his friend responded, "they'd better finish soon. It's been just those two for five minutes now and I'm hungry."
"Me too. And I think I'm starting to sunburn…" The conversation went on. But Selphie knew what she had to do.
"Band, atten-TION!" Squall called. It was a classic. Many squads missed that one after a barrage of faces. He didn't expect it of those two, though. Not the leaders, anyway.
"FOUR!" Selphie reeled in shock as she heard his voice call out unexpectedly with hers. Did he just-
Did she just- Zell turned his head, eyes wide as he looked past her squad and at the little brunette down to his right. The underclassmen standing there with them looked bewildered. Selphie looked back at him, absolutely shocked. Squall's eyebrows arched.
"Well then," he started, apparently unruffled. "It looks like we have a tie. Both squads standing may leave for lunch, and congratulations to the first two squad leaders of the season, Selphie and Zell." A general chorus of whoops and applause rose from the seated members of the band. Selphie looked around, jumping in excitement. When she turned back around, he was already gone. She turned again to see the blond running as fast as he could down the path back into the Garden, and she smiled. Hotdogs…She jogged after him, overtaking the squad-members before her.
"Hey, great job guys, thanks!" she said quickly as she passed. "Not bad for underlings!" C'mon, Selphie, catch him! Gogogo! she yelled internally. But at the same time, she was afraid to. But there were questions popping up, and she just couldn't let them lie.
She ate her lunch without incident, not even seeing him. She chatted away with a few upperclassmen she knew from her classes at Trabia, smiling and laughing and even all-out giggling a few times. Especially when the girls began discussing reasons for the odd lunch pairing of hotdogs and asparagus. And well, the places young minds will go…Selphie eventually got up and threw away her garbage, deciding to go for a walk and see the garden hidden inside the Garden's Training Center. She giggled. A garden in a Garden…teehee…
When she got there, she grinned broadly, clasping her hands in front of her chest and twisting around happily. It's so…pink! Selphie squeaked at the thought, still grinning at all the flowers around her...pink tulips on the ground, a few yellow ones scattered in, peonies, impatiens…the odd rose bush here and there…and her favorite: the cherry blossoms. There was a tree roughly every twenty feet in the garden, the petals falling softly to blanket the ground in the late summer. Her eyes caught something under one of the trees, and she walked towards it, curious.
"Zell?" she asked, the spiky blond hair on the figure bent forward on the bench giving it away. "What're you doing here?" She felt the familiar race of her pulse as he sat up quickly, smoothing his hair back.
"I- uh…" he searched for a reason to be out there. "I uh, ate too quickly." He swallowed. "It was the asparagus." You idiot…he berated himself.
Selphie blushed and laughed a little. "Yeah. What a weird thing to have with hotdogs!" And they laughed, each a little nervously. Selphie walked over and leaned against the trunk of the tree, looking at him as he sat on the bench. An awkward silence fell. Zell coughed. "So…um, the asparagus was pretty good, I guess." she said, anything to break the silence. "Much better than blood." He laughed.
"Yeah, guess so." he paused for a second, a thought hitting him. "Why did you throw Elimination? You've always been the best," he asked her before he thought about it too much.
Selphie laughed lightly. "Oh, I have not," she protested, looking down at her feet. "Squall always was. He never missed a thing, even when-"
"Yeah yeah," he interrupted. "But you just threw a game. One you were winning." She laughed again, nervous.
"Well…I know how much you like hotdogs. And lines suck." Selphie looked away, watching the petals fall at the far end of the garden, fully aware of the fact that she had only told half the truth. She felt the heart beating in her chest and was sure he could hear it. "Why did you-" she started, turning quickly back to face him.
And then all she saw was pink. She felt his arms close around her, pulling her away from the tree as his lips pressed gently to hers, giving her all the answer she needed. Her head spun, and she kissed him back, more fiercely as she felt that lovely rosy fire spread within her. When they broke apart, she felt it creep to her cheeks, and she smiled, seeing it on his as well. They stood there, a silence building again as they held each other at a distance, sheepish smiles planted on their faces.
"So then," she started quietly. "How about that asparagus?" And he laughed, kissing her lightly.
"Pretty good," he answered, still laughing. "Pretty good."
A/N: So then, Steve, there is your Zelphie. AND a Marching Band fic. All in one go. Ugh. I hate this couple. I hate how I had to make them calm down to do this. (shudder) Never again... Opinions, s'il vous plait. Not for the sake of any future Zelphies from me; gods no! -but that I may improve my writing in general. Merci.