The cool ocean air swept over the balcony of Balamb Garden, lifting a
few choice pieces of blonde hair off of the sole resident's face, for a
moment alleviating the brutal heat of the summer season. Even late in the
evening, the weather around Balamb was vicious, and the breakdown of the
Garden's air conditioning the week before made the building less of a
sanctuary than most people would have liked to believe. A whip crack sliced
through the thick, muggy air, and Quistis shifted her weight on the rail
restlessly, watching the graceful movements of her weapon as it returned to
its relaxed position. Had the circumstances surrounding her solitary visit
been different, she might have reveled in the carnal beauty of the bleeding
sunset, shooting streaks of red and deep orange haphazardly through the
purple sky. But the magnificence of the scenery in front of her failed to
stir any emotions other than frustration – there was far too much going on
behind her blue eyes to take in something petty like the amazing view.
Quistis Trepe had always been one of the top students at Garden – SeeD at 15, Instructor at 17, top scores in eight out of her fifteen elective classes, a record time on the Fire Cavern exam, a 20 straight off of her SeeD exam…
"Purpose," Quistis muttered blandly, her mouth curving into a delicate frown. "I don't have purpose anymore." During those years as a student and even those as a professor before setting out to battle the Sorceress, Quistis had lived her life as a poster child for perfection. Looking back on it, she almost disgusted herself. Living her life, striving for the perfection she always achieved, however, lost its glitter when she was forced to finally confront her flaws – her personality. Quistis grinned ruefully. The last thing she'd ever considered perfecting was her personality, and that's where her flaws magnified. Left untouched for eighteen years, they loomed above her, threatening to topple the precarious balance of her pride. Of course she had demons to face – didn't everyone else? Unfortunately, hers happened to be late bloomers, leaving her to fumble with her problems with a clumsy, adolescent touch while others her age reveled in the fruits of conquering their tribulations.
"Little late for a lady like yourself to be out alone, isn't it?" A familiar, gravelly voice drawled from behind her, and she just barely kept from jumping out of her skin. Speak of the devil – the carefree cowboy was the epitome of those she envied. Closing her eyes and making a mammoth effort to rid her expression of anything but the pure enjoyment she thought she should be feeling, gazing mindlessly into the grace of the skyline. Feeling as if she'd succeeded, she turned her head to flash a quick smile at Irvine.
"This little lady can take care of herself just fine, thank you," she replied coolly. Irvine's tanned face broke into a grin as he sauntered up beside her.
"If you say so… would you look at that sunset? Amazing what a little summer can do to the sky, eh?" He pried, nudging her ceaselessly with his elbow. "Even Balamb can look pretty sometimes. Bloody hot out here, though." Cocking an eyebrow at him, she shrugged.
"I guess so." Irvine paused for a second, and Quistis rebuked herself for the slip in her tone.
"You okay, Quisty?" He asked, the gravel leaving his voice for a moment as he coined the nickname she'd been granted at the orphanage. Quistis bit her lip for a moment, her grip on Save the Queen tightening. "You've been awful distant since we came back – we're all worried about you," he continued, emphasizing the word "all". She swallowed and shrugged, moving her gaze back out to the sunset. Leaning forward, Irvine caught her chin with one of his fingers and moved her head so he could see her eyes. "If you've got anything you want to unload, any one of us are here for you. I know you never really got into the whole sharing-your-feelings thing, being the oldest and all, but all of us have done a lot of maturing, and we want to be there for you. It'd be an honor for a few of us," he finished quietly, releasing her chin and glancing at the sun, almost entirely below the water. Raising a hand to adjust her glasses, she noticed a tear fall from her cheek, and damned herself for being so emotionally weak. It was true – surrounded by so many little ones she viewed as siblings, she had to grow up awfully quick and discard her minute childhood in hopes of enhancing that of those around her. Perhaps that's why she'd never fully understood the trials and tribulations of growing up – forced to hide, the problems festered in the back of her mind until they reached the breaking point – the point where she couldn't hide behind her success anymore. She couldn't hide now because there wasn't anything for her motivation to be attributed to – the Sorceress was no longer a constant threat, she had nobody to impress, and the achievements she'd accomplished so early in life left little to be attained in the future. It was a depressing complex, and while it was on the tip of her tongue to tell the cowboy, one of her most level-headed friends, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Old habits die hard, and the routine of stepping on her own emotions to save the concern of others was one she wasn't sure of her ability to throw.
"Quistis?" Irvine tried again, watching her profile intently. Afraid to look at him, Quistis focused on a boat far out in the water.
"I appreciate your concern, Irvine," she started, her voice dangerously close to cracking, "but I'm perfectly fine…" her voice faltered on the last word, and she turned her head away from him, ashamed of the tears that tumbled from her eyes. She heard Irvine shift his weight, and she quickly ran a hand under one eye, attempting to wipe away the warm tears that scalded her pride.
"Okay, Quistis," he replied softly. "Promise me, though, that you'll come to one of us if anything surfaces?" Still refusing to look at him, Quistis nodded vigorously, nearly shaking her hair free of its strict bun. "You need… you know, a hug or anything?" He prompted as he moved to go. Shutting her eyes and biting her tongue, her blonde head went from nodding to shaking a resolute "no", and Irvine ran his hand through his hair. "Well, I need one," he stated, and she nodded softly. Standing stubbornly still, she allowed Irvine to wrap his arms around her for a moment, reveling in the feeling of someone holding her. She wanted desperately to hug him back, but she knew that if she did, the little restraint there was holding the rest of her feelings back would come tumbling down, and she wasn't ready to admit to anyone else what she hadn't yet admitted to herself – her success had made her a complete failure. Irvine released her after a moment, and adjusted his ponytail. "Don't stay out here too late, okay, Quisty? Gets mighty cold after dark," he added, walking slowly to the door that led him back to Garden. Quistis nodded thoughtfully, absentmindedly dragging her weapon through the still air.
"Irvine," she said after a moment, her voice thick and rough with the raw emotion running through her mind. She heard him pause.
"Quisty?" He replied.
"Please don't say anything," she pleaded quietly, and as he heard her voice, he knew that for her to ask him this was equivalent to her begging on her knees.
"Of course not," he said softly. As she heard the door shut behind her, she nearly collapsed, the dams of restraint holding her release burst, and the tears fell more persistently than before, this time accompanied by harsh, rough sobs that robbed her body of breath, and as she sank to her knees, she damned herself yet again.
Quistis Trepe had always been one of the top students at Garden – SeeD at 15, Instructor at 17, top scores in eight out of her fifteen elective classes, a record time on the Fire Cavern exam, a 20 straight off of her SeeD exam…
"Purpose," Quistis muttered blandly, her mouth curving into a delicate frown. "I don't have purpose anymore." During those years as a student and even those as a professor before setting out to battle the Sorceress, Quistis had lived her life as a poster child for perfection. Looking back on it, she almost disgusted herself. Living her life, striving for the perfection she always achieved, however, lost its glitter when she was forced to finally confront her flaws – her personality. Quistis grinned ruefully. The last thing she'd ever considered perfecting was her personality, and that's where her flaws magnified. Left untouched for eighteen years, they loomed above her, threatening to topple the precarious balance of her pride. Of course she had demons to face – didn't everyone else? Unfortunately, hers happened to be late bloomers, leaving her to fumble with her problems with a clumsy, adolescent touch while others her age reveled in the fruits of conquering their tribulations.
"Little late for a lady like yourself to be out alone, isn't it?" A familiar, gravelly voice drawled from behind her, and she just barely kept from jumping out of her skin. Speak of the devil – the carefree cowboy was the epitome of those she envied. Closing her eyes and making a mammoth effort to rid her expression of anything but the pure enjoyment she thought she should be feeling, gazing mindlessly into the grace of the skyline. Feeling as if she'd succeeded, she turned her head to flash a quick smile at Irvine.
"This little lady can take care of herself just fine, thank you," she replied coolly. Irvine's tanned face broke into a grin as he sauntered up beside her.
"If you say so… would you look at that sunset? Amazing what a little summer can do to the sky, eh?" He pried, nudging her ceaselessly with his elbow. "Even Balamb can look pretty sometimes. Bloody hot out here, though." Cocking an eyebrow at him, she shrugged.
"I guess so." Irvine paused for a second, and Quistis rebuked herself for the slip in her tone.
"You okay, Quisty?" He asked, the gravel leaving his voice for a moment as he coined the nickname she'd been granted at the orphanage. Quistis bit her lip for a moment, her grip on Save the Queen tightening. "You've been awful distant since we came back – we're all worried about you," he continued, emphasizing the word "all". She swallowed and shrugged, moving her gaze back out to the sunset. Leaning forward, Irvine caught her chin with one of his fingers and moved her head so he could see her eyes. "If you've got anything you want to unload, any one of us are here for you. I know you never really got into the whole sharing-your-feelings thing, being the oldest and all, but all of us have done a lot of maturing, and we want to be there for you. It'd be an honor for a few of us," he finished quietly, releasing her chin and glancing at the sun, almost entirely below the water. Raising a hand to adjust her glasses, she noticed a tear fall from her cheek, and damned herself for being so emotionally weak. It was true – surrounded by so many little ones she viewed as siblings, she had to grow up awfully quick and discard her minute childhood in hopes of enhancing that of those around her. Perhaps that's why she'd never fully understood the trials and tribulations of growing up – forced to hide, the problems festered in the back of her mind until they reached the breaking point – the point where she couldn't hide behind her success anymore. She couldn't hide now because there wasn't anything for her motivation to be attributed to – the Sorceress was no longer a constant threat, she had nobody to impress, and the achievements she'd accomplished so early in life left little to be attained in the future. It was a depressing complex, and while it was on the tip of her tongue to tell the cowboy, one of her most level-headed friends, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Old habits die hard, and the routine of stepping on her own emotions to save the concern of others was one she wasn't sure of her ability to throw.
"Quistis?" Irvine tried again, watching her profile intently. Afraid to look at him, Quistis focused on a boat far out in the water.
"I appreciate your concern, Irvine," she started, her voice dangerously close to cracking, "but I'm perfectly fine…" her voice faltered on the last word, and she turned her head away from him, ashamed of the tears that tumbled from her eyes. She heard Irvine shift his weight, and she quickly ran a hand under one eye, attempting to wipe away the warm tears that scalded her pride.
"Okay, Quistis," he replied softly. "Promise me, though, that you'll come to one of us if anything surfaces?" Still refusing to look at him, Quistis nodded vigorously, nearly shaking her hair free of its strict bun. "You need… you know, a hug or anything?" He prompted as he moved to go. Shutting her eyes and biting her tongue, her blonde head went from nodding to shaking a resolute "no", and Irvine ran his hand through his hair. "Well, I need one," he stated, and she nodded softly. Standing stubbornly still, she allowed Irvine to wrap his arms around her for a moment, reveling in the feeling of someone holding her. She wanted desperately to hug him back, but she knew that if she did, the little restraint there was holding the rest of her feelings back would come tumbling down, and she wasn't ready to admit to anyone else what she hadn't yet admitted to herself – her success had made her a complete failure. Irvine released her after a moment, and adjusted his ponytail. "Don't stay out here too late, okay, Quisty? Gets mighty cold after dark," he added, walking slowly to the door that led him back to Garden. Quistis nodded thoughtfully, absentmindedly dragging her weapon through the still air.
"Irvine," she said after a moment, her voice thick and rough with the raw emotion running through her mind. She heard him pause.
"Quisty?" He replied.
"Please don't say anything," she pleaded quietly, and as he heard her voice, he knew that for her to ask him this was equivalent to her begging on her knees.
"Of course not," he said softly. As she heard the door shut behind her, she nearly collapsed, the dams of restraint holding her release burst, and the tears fell more persistently than before, this time accompanied by harsh, rough sobs that robbed her body of breath, and as she sank to her knees, she damned herself yet again.