I see his gunblade, coming up towards me. It kisses my forehead, almost gently, spilling blood. I know he takes pleasure in it; he always did.
He can't remember why he hates me. I barely can. But I remember.
Rivals. Ex-lovers. Choose. Either or.
"I hate you." He whispers to me. He stumbles away, trying to see through the haze of blood that's clogging his eyes. I see him pass out, and I join him.

I sat up in bed, my heart pounding. Yet another nightmare, involving Squall. Always involving Squall.
I stand up, ignoring my lack of clothing, and walk to the sink in my trashy hotel room. It was a shithole, but the price was right-twenty gil a week. I splashed water in my face, lightly.
That brought my attention to my reflection. I stared at it, squinting in the dim light of the night. Outside, somewhere, the neon light for the hotel was blinking, and every so often it would illuminate my face just so.
The scar, running diagonally between my eyes, always a reminder of Squall. Always a reminder of my failures.
A pounding at my door. I spared a glance at my alarm clock; three AM, not quite too late to be sacred.
"Come on, man! Let's go!" I heard Jez's voice on the other side. "Jake scored us some killer weed, man!"
"I'm comin', I'm comin'. Keep yer pants on." I grumbled, picking up some boxers and putting them on. I opened the door.
"Get dressed, man! This is primo chron, the good shit!" Jez looked excited. I grinned.
I can't erase my memories; you need a GF to do that. But I can get rid of them for a few hours at a time.
"Hang on a sec."
"Damn, Rage, you need to clean your room." Jez says, taking in the mess behind me. Rage. Hah. None of them know my real name; I doubt they'd recognize me, potheads have problems remembering things. They named me Rage because whenever they tried to talk to me at first, I flew off the handle.
I won't tell them my real name. I have my reasons. I mean, it's not like the name Seifer Almasy rings a bell to any of the stoners; I've heard the name mentioned in my crowd before, when Squall started looking for me after the big war. I'm assuming it was so he could kick my ass. But if they knew my real name, they could say it aloud, and someone who has a better memory might just realize who I was.
"Yeah, yeah." I waved her off and found a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. It had a logo on it; oh, right, The Offspring. Cool band, I guess. I shoved it on and sniffed; marginally clean, it'd do.
"I guess you're presentable." Jez said. Her long black hair stood out around her haphazardly, her eyes looked sunken. She was your stereotypical drug user, drug abuser, drug anything you want to call her. Her thin hands were deft at separating pot into parcels; dime bags, twenty-sacks, half-ounces, anything; deft at dividing coke into lines on a mirror she kept in her room; deft at sorting pills into uppers, downers, hallucinogens.
She claimed she was nineteen. I think she's younger. Seventeen at the most. Probably closer to sixteen.
I'm not bothered by that. She gets the weed.
"Hurry up, man, the weed ain't gonna smoke itself."
"If Jake's there, it might." I retorted, shutting the door behind me.
"Good point. Let's go!"

Jake. How can I describe Jake? You know Squall. If Squall did drugs, he'd be Jake.
He's a dark-haired guy, skinny, short. He even has the same damned storm-blue eyes.
He's perma-high; the one time I ever saw him sober he was freaking out, tearing the place up, looking for some E he'd dropped somewhere. His place is pretty cool, though. It's basement-level, in a real crappy apartment complex here in Dollet. It's really only one room; a studio apartment, if you want to be kind. His bedroom and living room are one in the same; he has some bean bags scattered around and a mattress lying on the floor for when he gets too high to sit up. Occasionally someone will join him there.
He has a telescreen mounted on the wall. Jake may be a stoner, but I've never met anyone better with electronics. He's jacked his telescreen directly into the cable feed that services this half of the planet, and he's never been detected.
Other than the drug habit, Jake's actually a rather nice guy. He found me soon after, sleeping on a low windowsil in an alley. The window, as I recall, belonged to a rather nice library; someone like me had no right to be sleeping there, under my tattered ass trench coat with the stupid red crosses on it (I've since ditched that thing), padding my fat ass with newspapers that proclaimed the world saved. I put them under my ass because Squall's face was plastered all over them, along with that bitch Rinoa.
He let me crash at his house, after he got me high. Nice of him, eh? I'd never smoked before that, and it was a little strange, but it made me go to sleep and have nice, dreamless nights.
Jez was there that night, too. I guess she was Jake's little fuck-buddy; she put out with the goods, and he got her stoned. Kinda dysfunctional, if you ask me. She's been hangin' on me a lot lately, and I'm not sure why. I don't have any money, I don't deal, and I rarely have my own drugs. Jake doesn't seem to care, but you know what? No way in hell I'd hit that.
Jez is cool and all, but she's been around a few times.
Jake was sitting, when we got to his apartment, on his pedestal. Well, we call it The Pedistal. It's actually a broken stool. He had this stool for ages and the legs broke, so he sawed them down to about five inches and sits on it cross-legged. We think he likes to hover over us. He was sitting in front of his hookah, a huge beast that had a bowl you could eat cereal out of on top, and eight straws coming from it.
Jake eyed me. "Welcome to the world of the living, Rage."
I snorted. "Living? It's three-thirty in the morning. This isn't living. This is the underworld, man."
"Man, you sure you ain't ex-military? Cuz you sure sound like it."
"Whatever." I replied, brushing him off, and mentally wincing at Squally-boy's favorite word exiting my lips.
"So come on, Jake, out with it." Jez said, anxiously.
He grinned at her and reached underneath the Pedistal, removing what looked to be a quarter of some of the finest bud I've ever seen. I held out my hand, and so did Jez. He obediently forked over a bud apiece for our examination.
"Oh my Lord." Jez said, practically squealing in excitement. "Look at the shit, Rage! It's got red hairs in it!"
"Look at the crystals growing on it." I murmured, appreciatively. "This must have come at a price, Jake."
"Not really." Jake looked pleased with himself. "I've got a hold on the guy who lives upstairs from me, so he gave it to me to pay off a debt."
"Good stuff. You know who his connection is?"
He grinned. "He's his connection, bro."
I whistled. "Nice."
"So, are we gonna smoke up, or not?" Jez asked.
"We're waiting for the others." Jake said. He gestured to his Hookah. "I don't bring out Lionhart for nothing."
I winced again. I still can't believe that Jake named his damned hookah after Squall. He's got a serious obsession with Squall; not in the romantic sense, more like idol-worship. He saved the newspapers I was sleeping on the day he found me and clipped out the stories about Squall, Inc., and how they'd saved the world.
"Who's coming?" I asked.
"Well, Scion's coming, of course." Jake said. I rolled my eyes; Scion was Jez's counterpart. He was willing to do anything--insert lewd wink here--to get high. He's constantly trying to get into Jake's pants to score a deal on weed, and Jake has to keep reasserting himself--he doesn't swing that way, never has, never will.
"And Kelly's bringing her little brother. She was supposed to be babysitting him, but ya know." Jake shrugged. "Scion's bringing someone he knows, and Kelly's bringing her boyfriend along."
"Sounds good to me." I said, standing up. "Munchy run?"
"I'll go with you!" Jez exclaimed, standing up. Jake forked over some money--he actually has a job, unlike most of us--and we walked out to stock up for seven hungry stoners and a stoned little kid.

"Oooh, and Twizzlers and--Oooh, look, they have Dorito's, and we gotta get Coke...and water, lots of water...oh, can we get a pizza, Rage?"
I sighed as we loaded food into the cart one by one. Carefully budgeting, I was able to buy a pack of Marlboro's with what was left over. Jake wouldn't mind.
"I gotta pee, I'll be right back." Jez said as we crossed the threshold to the store. I sighed again, watching as she ran back inside to go pee. I stood outside, opened my pack, flipped a lucky (although why I bothered nowadays was beyond me--I'm so far beyond luck it's not even funny anymore), and then removed a different one. Bringing out my Bic, I lit it and inhaled, happily.
I could have stayed happy, if someone hadn't decided to show up.
"Seifer?" I heard an all-too familiar voice say, almost in shock. My eyes shot open, and met with deep blue ones.
I hadn't been called Seifer Almasy for almost a year. I'd been Rage, a jerkoff who hung out with nobodys.
"I don't know what you're talking about." I informed the person addressing me. I wondered vaguely what happened to Rinoa, why they weren't hanging on each other like they used to, then rolled my eyes, crushed my cigarette, and crossed my arms, pointedly looking away from him.
"Seifer..."
"You gotta be mistakin' me for someone else, buddy." I said, looking inside and wishing that Jez would fucking hurry up with whatever merchendise she was stealing so I could just leave.
Finally, she sauntered back outside. "Ready, Rage?"
"Yeah, let's get the fuck outta here. Some people can't fucking keep their mouths shut." I said, glaring at Squall. Of all the damned places to meet up with my rival, a 24-hour grocery store in the shit end of town, in Dollet, was the last place I'd have thought. At four in the morning, no less
"Old friend?"
I snorted. "Old enemy. Let's get the hell out of here."
Jez gaped at me, looked back at Squall, who I assume was standing there with his arms crossed, in his normal "don't talk to me" stance, and then looked back at me. I gave her a glance.
"Shut the fuck up."
"I didn't say anything!" She whined, catching up to me. We walked the rest of the way back to Jake's house in silence.

"I loaded up a one-hitter for you two." Jake said, rolling his eyes. "The others are running a little late, they should be here in about fifteen minutes."
"All right!" Jez said, pumping her arm. She held out her hand and took the pipe, toking for a few seconds before passing it to me.
I held the wooden pipe to my mouth and was just inhaling when someone walked in. It was Scion and his friend.
And his friend happened to be good old Irvine Kinneas.
"Hey, everyone, what's up?" Scion joked. "Rage, I see you started without me."
I narrowed my eyes at him and passed him the one hitter, coughing slightly.
What the fuck? Is my past fucking coming back to haunt me? Again? I thought. I uninterestedly looked at Irvine, almost daring him to say something.
"Hey, everyone, this is my buddy Irvine. We go way back, before the world turned to shit, ya know?" Scion said, coughing. He passed the pipe back to Jez. "Irvine, this is Jake, Jez, and Rage."
"Howdy." He said. He wasn't wearing his normal cowboy getup; his hair wasn't even in a ponytail. He flat-out looked like a stoner, down to and including the ripped jeans and old Tshirt.
"How's it going?" Jake asked, politely. "Rage and Jez just went on a munchie run."
"Sweet, dude. I totally was gonna get us a pizza on the way over here, but ya know, Domino's is closed at this time of the day."
"You were not gonna get us a pizza, you sack of shit." I said, idly. Jez passed me the one hitter and I examined it. "It's dead, dude. When the hell's Kelly gonna get here?"
"Soon." Jake said.
"I was too, man! I even got the money in my pocket!" Scion replied, angrily.
"Whatever." I winced again. At that, Irvine's lips curled up into an almost sarcastic smile, but he didn't say anything. He seemed content to just let me ruin my life in peace.
Thanks be Hyne.
A knock, and Kelly walked in with her little brother in tow. Her boyfriend, Asriel, brought up the rear.
We have a lot of made-up names in our group. We figure we don't need real ones, as long as we know when someone's addressing us.
"Who's this?" Kelly asked, a cigarette hanging out of her mouth.
"Kelly, this's Irvine." Scion said, grandly. Wow. He was already stoned.
"Pleased to meet you." Irvine said, grinning in that annoying way of his. Asriel coughed.
"Irvine, someone should mention to you..." I said, drawling my words out deliberately. "That Asriel back there is attached to our friend Kelly. At the pelvis, if you get my drift."
Irvine's eyes flashed in anger. Jake caught it. "Whoa, whoa. Do you two know each other?"
"Never seen the bastard in my life." I said, smiling. "I just know the type."
Irvine calmed down and the rest of us spent a rather peaceable morning toking up. Irvine choked when I mentioned that he was sucking on the Lionhart (only we would get that, really), but he seemed inclined to not mention our previous ties. You know, like growing up in the same orphanage, and trying to kill each other three times over.
He and Scion left first. They were pretty stoned, but I figured Irvine'd be able to get them out of any shit. After all, he helped save the world.
I'm amazed that Jake didn't pick up on that, considering his little hero-worship of Squall. He probably doesn't pay attention to anyone but Squall, but you'd think he'd have remembered Irvine Kinneas.
"We're gonna jet, I've gotta get the little brat home before my mom gets there." Kelly said, snarling at her little brother, who snarled right back. They really don't like each other. Like I said, dysfunction runs rampant in our little troupe. Asriel grabbed the kid--I didn't catch his name--and dragged him out to their car. Kelly followed, flashing us a peace symbol.
Jez made it obvious that she was planning on fucking Jake, so I grabbed some munchies and excused myself. I was high enough that the rest of the day should pass fairly quickly. I didn't have any idea of what to do for work that night, so I might as well go back home and pass out.

Someone was in my room.
I, as high as I was, dodged the first blow. It went whistling past my head.
I turned slowly, examining the gleaming blue gunblade that was embedded in my door, about two inches from my left ear.
I turned back. I couldn't see him, but I knew he was there.
"Who's there?" I asked, knowing exactly who would answer.
"You know damn well who it is, Seifer." A rough voice said. I couldn't tell where he was.
I slowly reached out and flipped the light switch. There, amongst my dirty clothes and broken telescreen, sat Squall Leonhart, lord and hero of us all.
I snorted. "You again?" Rolling my eyes, I took off my shirt and headed to the sink to do another wash of my face. "You're like a cockroach. Won't die, won't leave, won't become extinct. Just keep on living another day. Just to annoy me."
"You aren't gonna ask how I know where you live?"
"Oh, I'm thinking your good buddy Irvine could have asked Scion, who knows exactly where I live." I said, lightly. "Scion's a moron, doesn't know when to shut up, so he'd have told his good friend Irvine."
I finished washing my face and grabbed an only slightly dirty towel to dry off with. Jacks, the black cat Jez found and pleaded with me to keep at my place, walked out from underneath the bed and twined herself around my ankle.
I sighed and picked the cat up, putting her on one of the chairs. "We gonna fight?"
"What made you think that?" Squall asked, genuinely confused.
I crossed my arms over my bare chest. "One, you threw a fucking gunblade at my head."
"Just my way of letting you know I was here."
"Two, about six months ago you put the word out that you were looking for me."
"Rinoa wanted to know whether you were alive."
"Three, I dunno, maybe it could be, we're rivals? I'm the enemy? The remant of the past that just needs to be cleaned out and then everyone can go back to their perfect, happy little worlds?"
Squall rolled his eyes. "If you think that's the reason everyone's looking for you, then you're an idiot." He lifted Lionhart out of my door and opened it, leaving again.
I looked at the cat. "Between you and I, I think I just had a near-death experience."
Jacks looked at me and mewed pitifully, licking her paws and cleaning the fur near her ears. She then curled her front paws up and balanced her head on them, perfectly asleep.
"My sentiments exactly." I said. I crawled into my bed and pulled the sheets over my body, allowing myself to relax. I didn't know if Squall would come back in through those doors; I didn't care. If he wanted to kill me, so be it. I could only hope it'd be quick and painless.