Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII

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I. Squall

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'Holy hell, this kid is freaking fast.' It took every minuscule ounce of concentration for Squall not to have his face hammered into the floor by the hyperactive blonde, who was now channeling all that endless energy into graceful, lightning-quick movement. Even his gunblade wasn't much of an advantage; the martial artist wouldn't hold still long enough for Squall to even aim the damn barrel.

"I think...I...need a...break..." Squall heaved, leaning over and planting the heels of his palms on his knees, sucking in air, droplets of sweat swinging off the brown bangs that dangled before his eyes.

The blur of tan, blonde and navy blue halted, stopping on a dime, and bright cornflower eyes stared quizzically at him, the owner barely panting. "What, already? I haven't even started sweating yet; you sure?"

Squall leveled Zell with a hard, even stare, and the younger SeeD shrugged apologetically, opting instead to flop down onto the grass, flat on his back, arms tucked behind his head. "Hold your hands over your head, it'll help you breathe easier."

"I know," Squall snapped, but paid no heed to the advice, slowly sinking into a cross-legged position, hunched over. "Have you been doing nothing but training, Zell? You weren't nearly this fast the last time we fought together."

"Ah ha, well, while you've been cooped up in your office scribbling legal crap, I've been bustin' my ass in the Training Center, and I'm twice as strong and fast as when we fought Ultimecia!"

Squall watched as Zell scrubbed frantically at the leather of his gloves, finally tugging the accessories off and rubbing his hands red in the pinkish, steaming water collected in the basin, reaching for the bar of soap to form another cleansing film over his hands. Zell rinsed his appendages, then glared at them, scrutinizing them, reaching again -angrily- for the soap and frothing up another lather.

Squall exchanged a glance with Quistis, who shook her head sadly and patted his shoulder. "There's nothing we can do. The blood isn't as real when it's not on your own body. This is something he has to deal with...it's the price he pays for relying on himself rather than a weapon to fight." Rinoa nodded sadly, placing an arm around a trembling, crying Selphie, and the younger girl turned her face into Rinoa's shoulder, away from Zell.

"This was coming for a while," Rinoa whispered to her, leading her over to the hotel bed, sitting her down gently. "We can only be there for him." Quistis sat on the other side of Selphie, patting her back, giving Rinoa a sorrowful glance when the dark-haired girl began to tear up at the sound of Zell's muttered curses.

"Zell..."

"Won't...fucking...damn stains always..."

"Zell."

Zell wouldn't spare a glance towards his leader, but answered him anyways. "I can't get it off."

"Zell," Squall answered in his gentlest manner, which was just short of a frosty command, "there's nothing on your hands."

" 'Course you can't see it," he spat, his fingers and knuckles livid as he scratched at them with the flecks of soap beneath his fingernails. "You think it's still not there when it washes off? I can still see it, still feel it, still fucking hear it-" He broke off abruptly, turning swiftly away from his companions, giving them his back. His soapy fists clenched at his side, shaking, angry red scratches adorning their backs, and water and suds dripping to the floor by his feet.

Squall readied himself for another famous Dincht Outburst, but instead was shocked to hear something come from Zell's mouth that he never imagined would.

A very, very quiet, but unmistakable sob.

And as Zell sank slowly down to sit upon a nearby bed, his face hidden tightly behind cupped hands, his shoulders shook ever so slightly. The girls immediately recognized where they were needed and rushed to his side, Rinoa and Quistis sitting on either side of Zell with Selphie kneeling before him and pulling at his hands, pleading with him to let them see his 'pretty face.'

"I'm being stupid," Zell hiccuped quietly as Squall shifted his weight uneasily, leaning against the wall. "This shouldn't be such a big deal..."

"Shhh, you're not being stupid," Quistis murmured, rubbing his back, then smoothing his wild blonde hair back from his face. "We all feel guilty about who we've killed-"

"These were people, Quis!" Zell interrupted desperately, moving his hands to look at her with bloodshot eyes, silver trails lit by the dying sunlight streaming through the open balcony doors of their hotel room. "Real people; that man, whose spine I snapped, he might've had his own Ma back in his own home town. He might've had little brothers or sisters, or maybe a girlfriend or even a wife and a baby. He had dreams and thoughts of his own, and he was only doing his job as a soldier. Did I have to kill him because of that? Because we were on opposite sides? If I had just taken a bit more time and caution, it would have been just as easy to knock him out-"

"Don't lie to us, Zell Dincht, because we both know in that situation; if you hadn't stopped him right then, he would have shot one of us."

"Just a foot up, with a chop instead of a punch, and he would've been down for the better part of the day-"

"What, so he could have attacked us again when the next wave of Galbadian soldiers pour in?" Quistis chided sternly. "You did what you had to, Zell-"

"You didn't see his eyes-"

"None of us want to-"

"I didn't want to either!"

"But that's something you have to realize, Zell; you have to be stronger than others, because you have to get in much closer in order to attack. You will always see their eyes."

Zell buried his face in his hands again, with a louder -albeit strangled- sob, and Selphie stood, pulled his head against her stomach, kissing the crown of his head and rocking him. Zell's arms latched around her waist, and he finally let it go.

There was a muffled cry, and loud sobs began to choke their way from Zell's throat as he fell from the bed to his knees, face pressed tightly into Selphie's stomach, who, for once, wasn't smiling. She bowed her head, silent tears on her own cheeks, and she slowly, wordlessly, stroked Zell's hair, the other hand resting gently at the base of his neck.

Squall gestured to Quistis and Rinoa, who nodded, leaving along with their leader to give Zell and Selphie, the two who probably connected the best, to speak with each other in privacy.

"Squall?"

Squall blinked, and glanced over at Zell, who was staring at him with a concerned expression. "Yo, you okay, man? You look kinda sad..."

Squall started; since when had his stoic default expression began to slip away and show emotion? He would practice in front of the mirror tonight, much to the protests of Rinoa, he was sure. "...Whatever." He glared sharply at the grinning SeeD, who had spoken in perfect unison with him. "Knock it off. It's bad enough when Quis does it."

"Psh." Zell waved his comment away with his hand. "Chill out, baby, I'm just foolin' with ya. But seriously, Squall," and an expression of actual thoughtfulness creased his features and painted his usually smiling lips with a small frown, "tell me what's up, man."

Squall turned back to the 'sky' of the training center, chewing restlessly on his bottom lip, a habit he had regretfully picked up from the fighter beside him. "...why do you fight with gloves?"

" 'Cause I like the idea of being able to beat you all down in a fair fight."

"No, I mean really."

"The real reason?"

"..."

" 'Cause I sucked at everything else. Besides, I think I'd be too dangerous with a weapon, being jumpy an' all. And I'm clumsy, too."

Squall gave Zell and incredulous look, who shrugged again.

"Not with my body, but with stuff. I tried a sword, and I somehow kept cutting myself. I tried a gun, but I'd get bored and start shooting up the landscape. My attention span's too short for me to handle anything but myself."

"...Makes sense."

"Mmm."

"You regret it sometimes?"

"What, doing martial arts?"

"Yeah."

"...maybe sometimes. But there's more pros than cons."

"Such as?"

"Geez, Squall, I've never known you to be so damn talkative. Usually you're telling me to shut the hell up by now."

Squall offered the smallest hint of a smile to what he considered one of his best friends, even though he was annoying at times. Two people could not experience terror, hatred, death, elation and victory together without ending up close. "I guess you're just rubbing off on me."

"Not a bad thing," Zell pointed out smugly, secretly glowing from the intended praise. "But to answer your question...the pros are as follows:," he began to tick off reasons, something he knew Squall found irritating, and relished in it, "it gives me an outlet for all this energy. It helps keep me in shape. It helps me clear my mind when I'm pissed off or whatever. It makes me concentrate, so I can rationalize better. It makes me feel more alive-"

"What the hell does that mean?"

Zell gave Squall a pointed look. "Have you ever been in a bare-handed fight? I mean a real one, with blocks and kicks and punches, not just flinging your fists around like a barbarian." He sounded disgusted, a tone Squall thought didn't fit his voice well.

"No."

Zell stared at Squall thoughtfully, then stood and brushed bits of grass and soil from his pants, holding out his hand to help his friend to his feet. "C'mon then."

Squall set a hard stare on Zell. "I'm not suicidal."

"I'll go easy on you." Zell unstrapped his gloves, tucking the pieces of leather into his pocket. "See, lookit? No gloves. So even if I hit you accidentally, it shouldn't bruise."

Squall gnawed harder on his bottom lip, then stood warily, facing Zell with uncertainty. He held up his fists awkwardly, attempting to mirror Zell's stance.

Immediately Zell sighed, straightening and walking over to Squall. "No, no, man; your build is all wrong for my stance. You can't just pick up what you see. Your legs are way longer than mine, dude, and you've got a shorter torso than I do. Here." Zell circled Squall adjusting him here and there, moving his foot slightly further out, bringing up his arms. "Stop bein' so tense; you gotta kinda hunch, almost go limp, but not all the way. Like this." And with the graceful ease of a veteran, Zell slouched into his familiar step, bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet in what seemed like restlessness but was really just alert agility.

Squall frowned, but attempted to loosen up, shaking out his shoulders, but in reality only ended up appearing like a Deling drunk. He snarled when he saw Zell poorly containing a snicker at his stance. "No, listen...um, here. Trying this. Stand up straight."

Squall wasn't happy, but did what he was told. "Why am I letting you do this?"

"So you can defend yourself in case something happens to your gunblade. Now do it. ...Right, like that. Okay, now pretend that you're in battle. Lionheart's in your hands. Pretend you're holding Lionheart."

"I feel ridiculous," Squall grumbled, but again obeyed, holding his hands before him, miming his stance.

"Close your eyes. Forget you're here; you're in a field. There's a monster in front of you."

"What kind of monster?"

"Geez, I dunno...use your imagination. Okay, it's a Grat."

Squall smirked. "That's pathetic."

"Fine, a Ruby Dragon. Now, fix your stance so that you're about to attack."

Squall, for some odd reason feeling a wisp of something he could only describe as nostalgia, hunkered down, but frowned, feeling unbalanced without his gunblade. "I'm off."

"Fix it. Balance yourself. Can't land a good hit if you're unbalanced."

Squall shifted his weight, and his world became level again behind his closed lids. He let out a slow breath, envisioning the ferocious creature snarling and spitting, magma dribbling from between dagger teeth and searing the ground below, bubbling and burning soil.

"...Ladies and gents, Squall has just found his stance."

Squall blinked his eyes, looking down at himself and realizing that, if he moved his arms slightly to his sides and clenched his fists entirely, that he was indeed in a martial arts stance. He lifted his eyes to Zell who, for once, wasn't grinning madly, but genuinely smiling with pride at his newest student.

'How does he do that?'

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