Disclaimer: Squaresoft/Square Enix owns all the Final Fantasy characters/references/places etc.
Table of Contents (as of May 1, 2012):
Prologue
Ch. 1 - 4: Childhood Arc.
Ch. 5: Meet Ward. Updates from Esthar.
Ch. 6: Rise of political leaders: Adel and Deling. Updates on Cid, Edea, Laguna...
-*-
Home. The dictionary defines it as both a place of origin and a goal or destination. And the storm? The storm was all in my mind. Or as the poet Dante put it, 'In the middle of the journey of my life, I found myself in a dark wood, for I had lost the right path.' Eventually I would find the right path, but in the most unlikely place.
Hunter Patch Adams (Movie: Patch Adams)
.0o0.
Prologue
I turn at the steady press of footfalls as Balamb Garden's commander enters my office. The doors give their expected 'swoosh' as they close automatically. Seriously, I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing that sound effect. Swoosh!
"You look like you could use some sun." I nod towards my son's too-pale-to-be-too-healthy complexion. It's a bit of a running joke, me trying to counsel him on living a balanced life when my own staff alternate between hunting me down within the city and kicking me out of the office to get some rest. With all the turmoil he's been through in his life already, I doubt I can give him much advice on trying to live normally. Like there's such a thing anyway.
Squall raises an eyebrow coolly at my comment, "You've been taking too much time off in Dollet."
Taken aback I scratch my head. "How'd you... Hey! I was only there for work purposes! Ask Kiros if you don't believe me!"
That earns me a nonchalant, "Right."
"Honest!" I've got a hand on one hip and the other one's waving energetically. It's a bad habit. Ward claims that it's distracting during meetings. My response to Ward is 'I don't force you to go to meetings (usually), so whatever, man.'
I busy myself by shifting some papers off the couch so he can have a place to sit. "But, how'd you know I was there?"
"You have a tan. Esthar is in the middle of its rainy season and Dollet is experiencing a heat wave." I'm thankful that his SeeD duties haven't worn out his patience enough for him to add a sarcastic 'Obviously.' I'm also thankful that Squall's not usually prone to being sarcastic.
"And, you brought another souvenir mug home." He points to the blatant evidence on my desk.
Papers in hand, I stare at it having forgotten it was there. "Dang."
In my defence, it's a pretty rad mug. The handle's just the right size, it's not too heavy, and the design was irresistible. It's not like I spent taxpayer money on it; I make sure I tell him so. Squall closes his eyes before shaking his head. Having no idea how to interpret that gesture, I take it as admission to defeat.
Pausing in my victory, I fling the collection of miscellaneous paperwork down without giving it a second thought and offer him a seat before taking one for myself. "We just got new furniture, which was way overdue in my humble opinion, and this couch my secretary chose is just superb."
From his secure distance from the seemingly harmless piece of furniture, Squall gives the cushions a quick inspection for explosives, electronic bugs or whatever other dastardly ploys he has been trained to detect. Fortunately it appears that the comfy seat I'm sitting on is up to Garden standards. After settling down I realize something still bothers me from his previous comment. "You know, it's funny. I've never really thought of this as 'home'." I wave an arm at the room's expanse.
"Really? Even after two decades?" His voice holds a slight inflection of humour so I stick my tongue out at him.
"You're making me feel old!" He looks like he's about to expand on that but I cut him off. It's a good thing Kiros wasn't in the room, he wouldn't have let that opportunity to mock me pass by. Not that he's that much younger. "Nah, never really thought about it 'til recently. But, now that I have, it's just... missing something. Know what I mean?"
Without toning down his intensity, Squall sits back, finding a more comfortable position in the dark suede; it takes some time to break-in quality furnishings. He answers in a contemplative manner. "I guess."
"I think there's only one place I've ever considered home. Despite a lot of things, it just felt..." I scan my vocabulary for the perfect word. "right. How 'bout you, Squall?"
"I'm not sure if it's the same..." He pauses; my guess is to search for the precise words too. Squall may not say much but he sure puts a lot of thought into making the ones he chooses count. "I grew up as an orphan."
I could hit myself. Or shoot myself, preferably in a non-vital area. How could I be so insensitive? Jumping up I begin to babble, "Oh sh- I'm sorry, Squall! I didn't mean - "
Squall sits forward and raises a hand to cut off my outburst. "That's not what I meant. I had a good place to grow up. It wasn't always easy but the people I met at Matron's orphanage... we're still friends today. I'm thankful for that."
"I'm glad to hear that." I rest a hand over my chest, mostly out of habit and partly to reassure my heart it can calm down. Crisis averted. "You can't have too many friends."
"Which reminds me, Selphie says 'Hi.' I told her she should tell you herself since she's in the city." Squall says it with a touch of annoyance but I can tell there's a smile in his eyes. They're a good bunch of kids.
"Right, right, I'll have to run into her later! Hey, have you eaten lunch yet? That clock says it's later than I expected and my tummy's feeling rumbly."
Squall shakes his head slightly, "I didn't have time. Rinoa wanted to get up early to go shopping with the others. I was in a meeting with Cid until an hour ago."
"Ah, busy as always! I've just been snacking on junk and could use something warm... Wanna go check what's going on in the kitchen?"
"It's not a big deal; I don't want to get in the way." He looks hesitant, but there's no way I'm gonna let my kid starve!
"Nah, don't think twice about it! I bet no one'd dare to give you a scolding, not with you being Mr. Responsible and all." Before he can protest further, I'm grabbing his forearm and yanking him onto his feet.
"Clearly you haven't met Kadowaki." Squall readjusts his sleeves when I let go.
"Huh? Is that a friend of yours?" I rush to my desk to lock the user account on my computer; Ward gets on my case for leaving it unprotected. "C'mon, let's head downstairs!"
"She's the medical practitioner..."
As we're entering the lift Squall elaborates about who's who at Balamb Garden. It takes me a moment to realize how crazy, amazing, and downright lucky I am to be having this conversation. Today is built on accidents, understanding, boundaries, trust, and dare I say friendship?
Months ago, I would've been stammering from the get go and rambling horribly. Most likely, he would have been quiet, rigid, and professional beyond his years. But now, look at the two of us; totally relaxed (minus the occasional mishap, with me usually to blame) and actually talking about personal stuff.
Squall's cocking his head, eyes squinting minutely in the fashion which implies that I've spaced out and missed what he was saying - again.
I laugh, shaking bangs out of my eyes, and apologize. The barest of smiles, but a genuine one - which is all that matters really, flickers across his features. We leave the lift and he goes on to tell me about his home at the Garden.
Once upon a time we had a lot to fight for I'll sail away, it's time to leave
We had a dream, we had a plan
Sparks in the air, we spread a lot of envy
Didn't have to care once upon a time...
Rainy days, are yours to keep
Fade away, the night is calling my name
You will stay, I'll sail away.
The Rasmus - "Sail Away"
.0o0.
Chapter 1 - Family Matters
He could hear her singing even through the front door. Sighing, he pressed his forehead against the worn wood, painted an exceedingly exuberant yellow. Another deep breath cleared his body condensing on contact with the winter air; it looked like a cartoon rendition of a wispy spirit leaving the grave.
Why can't I come home to a quiet house for once? With effort Callado straightened and adjusted his cap, internally berating himself for such rash petulance. Thoughts along those lines had become more frequent lately but he was thankful that none of them had grown to be audible. His personal stress level at work had risen and was probably the cause... And yet it wasn't like there had been an onslaught of tasks.
No, it's not the work itself... but rather my own inability to get anything done. By no means was Callado a stupid man, sometimes a stickler for rules and chasing the details until they fit perfectly, but certainly not daft. He frowned; it felt like the final year of high school all over again. All the subjects had pulled his interest and he'd signed up for everything he could - just because it felt like he would succeed. For a while he had managed to balance it all. There was something deliciously addictive in the rush of simultaneously tackling and accomplishing all the assignments and many were completed before they were due. However, just as his teachers feared, he crashed at the end of the year. Little things had piled up and he faltered. On the account of his strong effort for the majority of the work submitted, they let him pass everything, albeit with lower marks than he was happy with - an action that he took to be their way of indicating pity.
Callado disentangled his key ring, trying to distinguish the proper one in the afternoon's fading light. He was no longer in his teens. No, now he was among the other working parents trying to keep their families afloat on meagre Dollet wages. Now that the deadlines were looming again, Callado knew there would be no free pass and it wouldn't be just him who suffered. I can't let my wife and son down! I can't... And yet, he also couldn't seem to control the opposing waves of panic, and strangely, indifference. It was all a bit disconcerting, distracting and darn-right confusing. No wonder he couldn't get any work done.
Shaking his head, Callado entered the house and shut the door on the dying wind behind him. Wild giggling accompanied his wife's voice. No, Quiet no longer pays visits to our household. This time he thought it with a small smile. I'm pretty sure Quiet avoids us like the plague.
Part of him, an admittedly growing part, was reluctant to announce his arrival. He hung his coat up and carefully removed his hat. The velvet was comforting and he braced himself as the pitter-patter of bare feet sped around a corner towards the foyer.
"Daddy!" The little boy rushed over to greet him. A flash of green eyes, bright against flushed cheeks, were hidden quickly as the boy rammed into his legs. His wife rounded the corner and looked up in surprise to see him in the doorway.
"Laguna." He smoothed down his son's wayward hair, silently willing the tyke to let go and allow his circulation to flow again.
Riada grinned despite her husband's lack of enthusiasm and pecked a kiss to his cheek. "Welcome home."
Dinner was the usual affair, a home cooked meal (slightly rushed due to Laguna pestering his mother incessantly) and cheery chatter. Riada snuck another look at her husband from behind a wavy lock of hair; he had fallen into his more silent set of behaviours and was eating mechanically. After marrying Callado, it was obvious that the joyous and carefree demeanour she fell in love with wasn't a constant but she had also never seen him so disheartened before. Apprehension was practically radiating off his shoulders. Thankfully, their son hadn't picked up on any of this, but then again he was only five.
Laguna was busily mashing his potatoes into a mountain of mush, pristine fork forgotten on the tablecloth. At least he ate most of his green vegetables... She forced herself to not roll her eyes as a few blobs of white flew past her face; Hyne forbid that she should pass on her bad habits.
"Are you still hungry, 'guna?" He shook his head and drew a happy face in the mash. Riada pulled a few fingers through her bangs to shake the carbohydrates loose. "Alright then, let's go to the kitchen and clean up. C'mon bring your plate, Munchkin."
After rinsing off the plates and her son, she sent him off to play upstairs in his room. Callado had pushed his plate away and was staring through the dining room window; eyes darkened to teal and much too serious for her liking. A small flock of Thrustaevis chicks were scuttling alongside their neighbour's fence, diligently following behind one parent as the second stayed alert overhead. Riada approached him and hugged his shoulders.
"You're so tense! Another hard day?" She smiled brightly, the light overhead haloing her auburn tresses, but he didn't look up.
"You could say that." It was getting dark outside; the sun had forfeited the sky to the other stars. There were patches of snow scattered across their backyard although most of them had turned to a brown slush. One fledgling stumbled in the dusk. Its guardian sent a gust of wind down to clear the path ahead. Old man MacArthur would not be pleased to see the newly installed window in his fence, especially with it being at ankle-level.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She paused in her massage trying to decipher his morose mood.
"No." He didn't want to be there right now. Even though their son was being quiet in the other room, the house felt crowded in his mind. Maybe it was guilt, or shame?
"Do you want to play some cards or something? I can make dirty jokes until you smile..." When he didn't respond she stepped away, "Callado! I don't know what's gotten into you lately, you're so distant. I'm sorry dinner wasn't the best it could be, but I was busy with Laguna... Maybe if you could be home more you wouldn't be so stressed out!"
"I can't talk about this now." He got up and headed for his den, avoiding her dejected expression.
A little more than a week later, Riada was driving along the coast wishing the top could be put down so the evening air could whip through her unrestrained bangs. The rebellious part of her was quite tempted, but her motherly instincts were spoiling the moment by reminding her Laguna was asleep in the back and would probably get sick. It was still winter after all. She sighed, adjusted the heat vent and rolled her window down a tad to defog the windshield.
Things will be alright. Malgo Peninsula was getting cramped anyway. That was something she had in common with Callado, a fear of being boxed in. She frowned and rolled the window back up. It wouldn't do to dwell on thoughts of the past. But is it possible to forget someone you love?
She bit her lip and changed the radio station to anything with a rock beat. This was for the best. She was doing it for her family. "For what's left of it anyway," Riada couldn't help but mutter aloud.
"Whazat?" A sleepy head peered from behind the front passenger seat. His hair was in an equal state of disarray.
"Nothing, 'guna. Did you have a good dream?" She kept her eyes on the dirt trail that passed for a road.
"I think there was a pirate this time." He said with a yawn.
"Did he sing silly songs? Ones about dancing and colourful birds on palm trees?"
"Maybe. There might've been treasure too!"
She smiled at his lisp, "Alright. Well, go back to your dreams. We'll be further in the Dollet district by the time you wake up! Maybe near the river."
"An' then it'll be my birthday?" He was already getting drowsy.
"Yep, and we'll have a humongous birthday cake! And all sorts of games to play. Dream about that, 'kay?" She gripped the steering wheel with more force than necessary and parted with the coast; couldn't risk getting the rental stuck in the sand.
-*-
(Jan. 3, 2010)
Author's Notes:
Sorry for the somewhat bleak beginning! I'm going to try not to be too melodramatic, since that's not the reason for writing this fic... My goal is to explore some of the characters (mainly Laguna), like the history we don't really see in the game. I do want to cover certain events that are referred to in the game (like the scene where Ellone puts jam in Laguna's boots), so hope this works out. I'm going to try to keep the original characters to a minimum, 'cuz I'm terrible at figuring out names, and those that do pop up will be there for a reason (like Laguna's parents).
Anyway, I toyed with the idea of working from the game's completion and incorporating flashbacks, but I don't think my writing skills are sophisticated enough for that. Plus, it may be less confusing to just work with a straight timeline for the most part (and since Laguna's one of the older characters we're starting there).
PS Happy birthday, Laguna ^_^