A/N: It has been so long since I uploaded anything here ;__; This got stuck in my head this morning so I had to write it :) Was going to end it differently, but this just seemed to type itself. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in this story. Period.
It was a calm, beautiful autumn day in the Alcauld Plains. Low twenties, clear blue sky, strong sun just peeking over the horizon and a slight breeze made for a perfect start to a should-be happy day. Why was this perfection necessary? What could possibly merit the beauty of such a rare and flawless atmosphere? Nothing of course. It was just another god-beautiful day.
The clang of metal on metal could be heard through the entire rock-speckled clearing. Two bodies moved together in a tango, blades singing when they struck, or whooshing when they missed.
Squall watched Seifer closely, hoping to catch a hint of what he was going to do next. Of course, once he moved he knew all too well what Seifer was planning, but it was just that moment of uncertainty, the moment in which the air was thick with anticipation of the next move. It merited being said that Squall did enjoy fighting Seifer: it was always a challenge, always different, even if he had hated the man entirely. Fucking bully.
Squall readied himself, realizing that Seifer wasn't going to move anytime soon. So he charged at him, hand outstretched, ready to swing with all his strength when he was in striking distance.
Did he want to kill Seifer? No. Absolutely not. He knew his blow would be blocked expertly. That's why he enjoyed fighting Seifer, he knew he couldn't severely harm the man. Even if he tried.
Although, last time they sparred together he had ended up in the infirmary (how he actually got there he wasn't sure) with a rather large scar adorning his face. His only consolation was that Seifer had one too, one that mirrored his own, and somehow, by some act of fate, bonded them forever as rivals.
Since the war had ended things had changed though. They where still rivals, but they themselves had changed into different people. Seifer was still an arrogant ass, but was much more mellow. Squall was actually opening up, albeit halfheartedly.
It was a consolation to both men that this part of their lives hadn't changed.
As Squall thought, Seifer had blocked his charge and returned with another blow towards the middle, which Squall also blocked. He then returned by spinning himself around, and cutting a wide arc with his blade. Seifer moved back, but was struck in the upper arm, the blade cutting through about a third of the thickness of the limb.
"Fuck!!" Seifer dropped Hyperion and covered the wound with his hand, the aforementioned having started to bleed profusely. A white light emanated from under his hand, and the bleeding slowed to a trickle.
Squall stopped momentarily, giving Seifer the chance to pick himself up. He wanted to continue to spar, this was getting good, he might actually win. Seifer scowled at him and picked up Hyperion with great effort, his wounded arm being the one he usually fought with.
"Sure you can keep going?" Squall asked tentatively.
"Of fucking course." Came the snide reply. Still an arrogant ass, that would never change. Squall did notice, however, that he wasn't holding his gunblade as high, and his body language was different. There was also pain evident in his face. Always the soldier.
"You sure?" Squall checked.
"I'm fine!" Came the strained reply, and Seifer charged at Squall, much more quickly than he had anticipated. He blocked the high blow, one that was also much stronger than he anticipated, his hands stinging from the impact.
Shit! He moved backwards quickly as another blow came, and another. Seifer was making a mistake, he was going to wear himself out, which usually happened when he was frustrated. One disadvantage of being so provocative.
Squall was worried that he was being pushed to defend himself rather than attack, which was never good. Seifer lunged with a thrust, which Squall didn't expect. He lunged out of the way, dropping his gunblade in the process.
Seifer only reserved a thrust for monsters, not to mention if it connected it would almost always result in a fatal wound. Squall created more distance between them by moving a few feet away as Seifer caught his breath. It was easier to see what was coming if there was some distance between them. His gunblade was behind Seifer who seemed to enjoy that fact very much.
"No more weapon?" Seifer laughed, albeit a bit more playfully than usual. "Thought you might not be expecting that." He smirked. Squall let himself smile. Seifer's statement reassured him that they weren't out to kill each other.
"I win this once." Proclaimed Seifer, ever the one to rub it in.
"Round 2?" Squall walked past Seifer, this time not making an arc around him, but instead brushing straight past him, ignoring the grin he received.
"Suppose I can beat your ass again, puberty boy." Seifer chided and shouldered Hyperion, grimacing at the pain it caused him.
"Sure you can keep going? You could barely hold up your blade." Squall added. He didn't want any unfair advantage, when he beat Seifer it was always fair and square.
"What, this little thing? Could still beat you with both hands tied behind my back. Wounded or not I just kicked your ass." Seifer mocked and slipped back into his usual fighting stance. Hew was right, and Squall felt a twinge of anger.
Therapy was working. For both of them.
Squall noticed that Seifer actually laughed sometimes, and actually smiled, not smirked in his usual arrogant-ass fashion.
And on the same note, Seifer noticed that Squall was becoming more talkative, and actually shared his thoughts and feelings with people.
They where changing, both of them, for the better.
But they still had their rivalry. That would never change. And both took some comfort in the permanence and certainty that it brought.
Squall readied himself again and took a deep breath to steady himself. This time he wouldn't give Seifer the chance to think.
Squall lunged forward, dragging his gunblade behind him, pushing himself as hard as his legs could go. As he closed in on Seifer he noticed the twinge of panic hidden in his face. He lifted Hyperion to block, but in doing so his face screwed into one of pain, Hyperion not being lifted as high as it should.
Squall stopped dead. Seifer was in no shape to fight.
"How about we call it a day? You win." Squall added, like the last two words stung. They where rivals, he hated admitting that Seifer had won.
"No way." Seifer shifter the blade to his other hand. "Can fight this way too." He laughed. Squall stepped back a bit to give himself room. He was worried, he hadn't fought many left handed swordsmen. He knew it theory what to do, but theory never did compare to actual experience. He would have to be careful.
This time it was Seifer who lunged first. Squall blocked sloppily, and retaliated with an upward slash that was dodged. He returned with a lunge.
Hyperion was pointed straight at him, Seifer meant it to stop Squall from getting close.
As Seifer moved forward he fully expected Squall to block and retaliate.
Squall lifted his gunblade in circle to knock Hyperion out of the way.
There was the sickening sound of flesh being cut open. Leonheart was dangerously close to Seifer's neck.
Seifer was surprised when Squall lurched forward and stopped dead. At first he though his neck had been hit, but he felt no pain. Squall's head was bowed, almost touching Seifer's chest, and he wasn't moving, like he was staring at something.
"Squall?" Asked Seifer annoyed. When Squall lifted his head there was absolute pain written across his face. And shock, horrible shock. Worried, Seifer eased Hyperion down to check him over.
It didn't move.
Look down.
No.
Look down.
NO!
You have to look down.
Seifer closed his eyes, and when he reopened them he was staring at his hand. He could only see the first two inched of his gunblade, the rest being embedded in Squall's stomach.
He had impaled Squall.
No.
Squall dropped his gunblade and grabbed Seifer's shoulders, giving a weak cry as he did so. Seifer froze, he didn't know what to do. These things didn't happen, they just didn't. He breathed in, the panic threatening to overtake him.
"...Seifer..." Squall mewed lowly, squeezing the older man's shoulders.
"Hold on... just... I don't know..." Seifer couldn't think. He reached an arm around Squall and eased him onto the ground on his side, being careful not to disturb the blade. He had to get help, this was beyond him to fix.
"I'll be back, I promise, just hold on!" Seifer went to leave.
"Wait." Came the weak call. Seifer turned, Squall was watching him. "Don't leave me here..." Squall screwed his eyes shut. "Monsters."
He was right, he couldn't leave Squall. Seifer looked around. Nobody.
"FUCK!!" He screamed, unable to do anything. Seifer grabbed the back of his head, trying to think of what to do.
"You can detach the handle and push it through." Squall murmured so low Seifer could barely hear him.
Again, Squall was right. Seifer ran over, and within a minute had the blade detached from the handle.
"I'm sorry." Seifer breathed as he went behind Squall and grabbed the blade with both hands. It's surface was wet and slippery, and the first time he tried to pull it resulted in his palm being sliced open from base of fingers to his wrist. Seifer bit his tongue and tried again. This time the blade moved, slowly, as Squall groaned in pain. It was almost out when it slipped again, and for the second time Seifer sliced himself open, this time gouging open his wrist on the same side. He ignored the crippling damage he was doing to his hands; Squall was dying. After another minute he had the blade out and proceeded to pick Squall up gingerly, who moaned in discomfort.
The adrenaline was saving him; Seifer couldn't feel the pain in his hands, or the pain in his muscles as he ran up the hill to the Garden. He looked at Squall, the younger man was unconscious.
"Don't die on me. You can't die, you hear me puberty boy? You can't die, we didn't get to finish our fight."
Seifer ran into the Garden and to the Main hall. There was no one around, today was a holiday and everyone was off doing something or other or drinking their asses off.
And Squall was here dying. Seifer kept Squall's head cradled against his shoulder as he ran, muscles screaming at him, to the infirmary.
Why am I so weak? Why is my shoulder so fucking soar?
Thank Hyne he didn't wear a coat.
He burst into the infirmary to find Quistis and Dr. Kadowaki. Upon seeing him they both jumped to their feet, panic evident.
"What happened?" The doctor ran over and looked at Seifer first.
"No me you idiot, him!" Seifer couldn't understand why they thought he was injured worse than Squall. She signalled a male nurse to take him, and another, younger looking doctor followed them into the next room.
"Sit." Kadowaki ordered.
"Shouldn't you be looking after Squall first?" Seifer spewed, angrier than ever. "I'm not hurt that bad, it's just a scrape, Hyne!" They both looked at him in shock.
Seifer turned and looked in the mirror.
His neck and shoulder had been split open, and where bleeding profusely. He looked down, and what he had failed to notice that Squall was looking at, was that there was blood soaking almost the entirety of the front of his clothes. He was also pale, very pale.
Seifer managed to look at the two women before he collapsed. There was screaming, then everything went black.
--
Squall was in the dark. At least that's what he thought. Maybe in his bed late at night, and the power was out. That wasn't it, he had a window. He groaned and opened his eyes groggily, the beeping of medical equipment meeting him cheerily. He was in the infirmary.
As if he had received a slap in the face, the events that lead him to the infirmary came swarming back. He sat up quickly, his head buzzing from the action.
"Seifer!" He looked around, but he was in a single room. He remember the shock on Seifer's face when he saw his gunblade, but he had failed to see the wound on his neck. Was he ok? Did he make it? Was he d-
No, Squall wouldn't think like that.
A young, male doctor came in, staring at his chart.
"Good morning commander, how are you feeling?"
Morning? He was out through the night?
"How long have I been here?" He asked, looking for a calendar.
"Oh, about three days. You where pretty seriously hurt." The doctor sat on the edge of the bed. "Instructor Trepe has taken over as commander until you're deemed fit to resume your duties." He smiled.
"Seifer?" Was the only thing Squall could think of saying. The doctor's eyes clouded over.
"Mr. Almasy passed away yesterday. I'm sorry." Squall's breath hitched.
"No." He shook his head.
"I'm sorry Commander. We did what we could, but he was too seriously wounded. He lost too much blood on the way here, and there was too much brain damage from the lack of oxygen." Squall shook his head, it couldn't be.
He looked back to the doctor, but vision started to blur, and before he knew what was happening, everything went black.
--
For the second time he woke to darkness. Squall knew where he was this time, and didn't want to open his eyes. He knew the truth, knew where he was, and knew who was no longer with him.
But what was Seifer to him? He mentally corrected himself, what had Seifer been to him?
A rival? More than that. They has been together since the orphanage, since Squall could even remember: his first memories had Seifer in them. Back then he was nicer, but still hurt. His parents where killed in front of him, that's why he was the way he was. Squall accepted it. Things changed when they hit puberty. Everything did.
But still, Seifer was something to Squall he couldn't quite place. A friend? More than that, but not at the same time.
And now, he was gone forever. No more taunting, no more cockiness to great him, no more solidarity, no more friendship...
...no more rivalry.
It took Squall opening his eyes to realize he was crying.
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