AMENDS
A/N: This is a piece I tinkered with for some time actually and planned it quite seriously but along the bumper car course of life you get jolted in so many other directions that you get too distracted to really continue. I think I will continue this but as I have horrid "updation" speed I expect that it'll take some time even though I roughly know where this piece is going. There's planned Seifer x Squall affection but not really yaoi. Squall and Rinoa are blatantly portrayed in a relationship but it's going to become shaky and slowly just break down in following chapters. Generally the focus isn't on the relationships but on the personal growth of Squall, Seifer and Rinoa. Once again, don't like, don't read. Unlikely to become lemony but there might be sensuality along the way. This chapter is where I set the stage and hopefully it doesn't end with the first act. XD
I would like to thank Aucifiel, an excellent artist (check her out at http://aucifiel (dot) deviantart (dot) com/ ) , for looking through some of this and aiding me on more than one occasion in finishing this first chapter.
Lastly but certainly not least, I hope you enjoy yourself.
Prologue
One, a woman of obvious strength, watched him mournfully from with a single fiery eye from behind a silver- grey fringe while the other grabbed ineffectually at his shortly- cropped raven hair, stocky frame fidgeting uncomfortably. That they seemed upset was something he could be sure of, that and the buckling exhaustion he felt in his sinews and the sting of open gashes and burns that even now were just beginning to heal. He didn't seem to know anything else, like who he was for instance. The pale lady strode forward, her steps even on the deck's rhythmic shift while the brine- scented breeze drew the silvery strands of her hair over that sorrow- creased brow.
"Seifer, you can't have forgotten man . . ." the other man moaned anguished, finally drawing himself up and Seifer noted the openness of those dark eyes, how their depths transparently revealed the man's heart. It somehow . . . saddened him, a feeling that marred the relief of finally meeting other humans after spending those interminable solitary days lost on that hellish island. He was finally rescued but somehow their pained expressions poisoned his joy and sickened him.
"ENOUGH," the soldier- lady demanded in a flat voice that nevertheless communicated a firm gentleness. Turning to him she smiled wanly and with startling but strangely acceptable familiarity, stroked his blood- stained mane of blond hair. "REST," she commanded and gripping the lapels of his coat drew the worn but sturdy material more tightly about him.
It was a welcome suggestion. Already the fever in his bones was burning up what meagre strength he had left and with the adrenalin draining from his blood now that no immediate danger was present, he found his mind slipping and sinking into the numbing comfort of dreamless sleep.
Chapter 1: Warmongers
The hallways of Balamb Garden were silent for once although far from empty. Students and even instructors milled about the dawn- graced institution in muted respect for the rare phenomenon, their touch almost reverential as they reached out and trailed their fingers along the smooth, concrete walls and felt no pulse. The many planted trees in the Garden towered reticently as their verdant crowns glowed steadily in the rising tide of sunlight. The atmosphere had changed and it wasn't just the awe that brought a certain solemn beauty to the new day but literally the air. It was warmer and sweeter and once more the Garden's residents could leave their assigned living spaces and walk out into the free day and its limitless potential.
Auburn fringe turning in the early breeze, Squall couldn't help the contented smile that came to his lips, an act that was as beautiful as watching a fine bow being drawn back. He wouldn't admit it within earshot of Nida who was already quite sensitive about the issue, but with the perpetual hum of Balamb's engines silenced and the surrounding atmosphere closer to good, solid earth, the mercenary organisation was a far more pleasant place. Rinoa had no such reservations on expressing her pleasure. Rocking on her feet while the wind tugged at the dark ribbons of her hair, she stretched her arms gleefully before hugging Squall's arm and resting a flushing cheek next to the cool, black leather.
"It's good not to be flying all the time, don't you think?" Rinoa purred letting her Knight pull her along the earthen- hued pathway past rushing cerulean jets from the white marble piscine fountain.
"It makes a nice change," Squall tactfully conceded while gently freeing his arm and draping it instead around Rinoa's seemingly fragile frame. "Are you cold?" he asked, drawing her more tightly to his side.
She shook her head but snuggled up to his firm yet comfortable chest, listening to the strong reassuring beat of the Commander's heart. Squall made no comment about how much harder it made their walk but he did wish that Rinoa would put on something more insulated against the faint chill in the air instead of the toga- styled blouse and a pair of thick but scant denim shorts. It didn't help either that they were both in the hue of pale cream, nearly a perfect match with Rinoa's fairness and enhancing the impression of being under- dressed. Still, the freezing bundle before him was slowly warming up and Squall decided to let it rest. Besides, he didn't want to ruin a moment that had been a long time in anticipation what with the aftermath of the Galbadian Sorceress War and Balamb's tedious role in the world's politics to occupy a horrifying amount of his time. He wouldn't dream of shirking a duty he knew he had earned well with the mess he had made in the realm while single- mindedly trying to protect his Garden and Rinoa, but it made him go clammy to think of a life trapped behind towering columns of dockets and folders slowly yellowing in the stagnant air of an enclosed office.
Feeling her boyfriend's fingers run through her hair she grinned, gleefully aware that they were in public and that Squall had reached yet another milestone in his transformation. Two years back when they had barely escaped death from the infinite void of space the man had hardly been able to accept her embrace. That he was now comfortable enough to be affectionate in public spoke volumes of how far they'd come despite the difficulty they were experiencing lately in finding the time for each other. She could hardly blame him for their conservative progress, Squall did what he did for all of them. After the war there had hardly been a hero's welcome although Laguna had proclaimed a holiday in Esthar and ordered a lavish celebration ignoring the Senate's protests. To the Senate and the rest of the world Squall was a power- hungry mercenary who had led Garden into a war with Galbadia and dragged the world into a devastating and above all, unnecessary conflict. The famous Timber Broadcast incident had made Garden appear as the aggressor and the subsequent breakdown of brief diplomacy a plot by the Garden warmongers who stood only to profit from worldwide conflict. Any attempt to explain the truth was in vain before the raging public opinion fuelled by anger and pain from the vast casualties. Squall bore all of it bravely, marshalling whatever resources he had to embark on a mission of reconciliation, opening talks with the world's governments and committing Garden to aiding efforts for global security in the aftermath of the Garden- Galbadian War and the Lunar Cry. The deep suspicion and scything sarcasm never drew a word of complaint or impatience from the taciturn man and Rinoa was well aware of the reason for this.
Squall wanted to protect his friends.
They had all played a part in bringing about the war. While painful to even consider anyone responsible, it cannot be denied that Zell had played a critical role in involving Garden in the conflict. Mrs Kramer too had, while possessed by Ultimecia, seized control of Galbadia and brainwashed Seifer who later became the leader of the Galbadian forces and together spread the flames of war across the continents. Quistis, Selphie and Irvine had all played apart in the destruction of the Galbadian missile base and had also been a part of the raid on the Estharian Sorceress' Memorial in their rescue attempt to save her. Rinoa couldn't be any guiltier for she was responsible for bringing Garden into the whole mess with her naive crusade to free Timber and with her heinous crime against Esthar and the rest of the world up, freeing Sorceress Adel from her space prison and nearly plunging all of them back into an era of dark chaos. If Squall even betrayed a hint of the strain the slanders were giving him, those closest to him would blame themselves for something that, he knew, essentially wasn't their fault. So he squared his shoulders and rose to the challenge with silent valour not knowing that his courage inspired those around him to emulate some of that stoic strength and earn the peace that their Commander had envisioned for them all.
This same man was her knight, the one who would protect her from the evil dormant in her. The protector of both the world and her soul. Chest swelling with pride she tightened her hug and was promptly rewarded with a grateful squeeze. It brought a tight knot in her throat; she still couldn't quite believe that she deserved him. Shaking her head to clear it of melancholic thoughts she smiled instead, privately chiding herself for getting so emotional. It was quite unlike her.
"So why are we stopping?" she asked, voice muffled as she raised her face as best as a person could while snuggling into someone's chest.
"Dr. Kadowaki's request. Seems like she wants to consult someone," Squall replied vaguely before breaking into a rueful smile, "I'm not really sure about the details because Quistis told Xu to lead me out while she handled it."
Rinoa grinned up at him.
"You must have looked a sight," she remarked perceptively while silently thanking the woman. Quistis was, next to Squall, the person she most trusted. The SeeD virtually hovered over Squall aiding him in his work and making sure the delicately- built man didn't ruin his health by bearing the weight of the world like a miniature Atlas.
Squall merely shook his head. These days it felt like he was slacking too much, letting his duties slide onto the shoulders of his one- time Instructor. He owed Quistis a great deal and hoped that one day he would find a way to return the favour. Guiltily he realised that while he was taking this morning stroll, Quistis was probably planning the appropriate scope for the upcoming Tri- Garden Conference over her morning blend of apple tea.
His silent oath to give her some vacation time after the conference was interrupted by a protesting whine.
"Eh? But why? Why can't I see Matron? It's been sooooo long since we talked about stuff," a usually chirpy, petite teenager asked disappointedly, the bounce to her curl- tipped shoulder- length copper hair threatening to droop in a sulk. She hopped agitatedly from foot to foot beside a more sedate Dr. Kadowaki clad in her usual medical room lab coat, with her hair pulled back into a neat grey bun. Unusually though, she was limping and the reason for it seemed to be what she struggled with in her arms. It appeared at first glance to be a large, white travel- sized suitcase before Squall noticed the tell- tale red cross. He also observed that she carried it away from Selphie, obviously a firm gesture to refuse the enthusiastic SeeD's help.
"You CAN meet her, AFTER we talk. I'm sure she'll visit all of you once we're done," Balamb Garden's chief physician reassured breathlessly, clearly straining with the weight of the case yet unwilling to spare herself the extra effort and give in to Selphie's badgering.
"But why?!?" Selphie insisted wheeling herself before the harassed doctor whose patience seemed to fray in the knitting of her brows.
"We'd better rescue her," Squall murmured while Rinoa nodded, reluctantly relinquishing her place on him as they hurried to intercept.
"Dr. Kadowaki," Squall called drawing a swift glance from the elderly lady who seemed surprised to see him. "This trip was for Matron?" he queried, increasingly confused by the flash of discomfort in the usually welcoming eyes.
"Yes," the physician replied slowly then quickly reassured when she saw the sudden concern on the commander' face, "but she's alright. This is for . . . one of her charges."
Squall nodded silently. Matron had returned to the White SeeD ship after the war and taken in more orphans just as she had decades ago. The only difference was that now it wasn't just a bid to safeguard her sanity against the corrupting powers of a Sorceress but also an atonement for the sins her body committed while her mind was consumed by the will of Ultimecia. Matron's orphans had already exceeded the capacity of the White SeeD ship to properly care for them, a testament to the devastation she was largely responsible for. Plans were underway for the old orphanage at the deserted seaport on the Cape of Good Hope to reopen and Headmaster Cid Kramer and Matron were already commissioning repairs to the damaged building. It was a project Balamb Garden was intimately involved with, not least because the leading members of the Garden owed their lives to Matron's orphanage back when they were the lost children of the Sorceress' War. Even Seifer, freed from Ultimecia's hold, had joined her in a silent retreat after the war without a word to his old comrades even after an official pardon was negotiated between the various world powers and the Gardens. It was as if he had excused himself from their lives with the greatest grace he could manage given the awkwardness of the situation. Squall wasn't certain if he should be happy for the one-time comrade or be saddened by it.
"The kids? Is it something serious?" Squall hastily asked realising that he had been wandering. Collecting himself he followed up in a more level tone. "Would it be better for them to use our medical facilities?"
"No," Dr. Kadowaki declined almost before the commander could finish, "it's best not to move the patient in question."
Squall blinked but nodded gravely.
"If there's anything we can do to help . . ." he offered and smiled as their physician nudged her chin at a distracted Selphie. The girl all but growled at the two of them but took a compromising step back.
"Would you like Squall to help you with that?" Rinoa volunteered on behalf of her boyfriend who backed her suggestion in his attentive gaze. The doctor favoured them with her usual warm smile but shook her head gently.
"I'll be fine," moving her gaze over the couple, her eyes kind. "Enjoy the morning a little longer," she advised instead drawing a healthy blush from the young lovers and an impish chuckle from Selphie. Making her exit, Dr. Kadowaki frowned wondering if Squall would indeed get involved in all of this despite Edea's and her own best efforts.
Squall watched the doctor amble away with the heavy case in tow and frowned pensively.
"Shall we continue our walk?" Rinoa interrupted drawing a distracted smile from the elite mercenary.
Pulling Rinoa closer to him he nodded to Selphie who currently held a Cheshire grin before them.
"Don't go overboard with the welcoming committee," he cautioned while the chirpiest of his friends gave him a twinkling wink before darting off to prepare her surprise for Matron.
Squall sighed as he watched after her.
"It'll be fine," his girlfriend reassured him looking up at his sober expression with a teasing smile, "you worry too much."
Squall shook his head to clear it from unwanted troubles and turned his steps up the path towards the quad. This morning he had set out to enjoy a rare quiet morning with Rinoa and he would hold to that simple ambition. Whatever else today intended to drop onto his lap would have to wait till later.
Smiling to herself, the sorceress allowed herself to be guided by strong, reliable arms. Perhaps today she would be graced with better inspiration for her canvas. Hopefully.
Feeling a sudden, faint shiver in her shoulders, Squall rubbed them consolingly. Rinoa would warm right up once they reach the quad and bask in the light of the morning sun.
The shifting shafts of light set random motes of dust aglow. Trying to trace an invisible pattern through them, Seifer could almost drown out the rallying thuds of footsteps chasing back and forth against the lower deck of the White SeeD ship. The stocky man's ( Rai- jin as he recalled) anxiety was wearing a ragged hole into Seifer's patience as his rescuer paced incessantly while they waited for the doctor that Mrs. Kramer had spoke of to board their vessel. He was irate enough to snap at the swarthy brawler again but an unhealthy dosage of the puppy- eyed treatment a week ago had taught him better. Then there was the matter of all this tension being his fault, or so everyone made it seem- not intentionally, though he couldn't really see the difference.
A terse declaration from a second, silent caretaker in the shadows broke through his private mulling.
"KADOWAKI."
Seifer tore his gaze away from the glass panes and focused on the new set of footfalls advancing down the steps behind the Captain's room. A heavy, careless crash followed by a much softer clip summoned visions of a one- legged pirate, wooden peg falling clumsily against the polished oak panels. Sensibly, he reasoned that the doctor was carrying something heavy with her. The other two sets of footfalls were easily recognizable. The light, graceful taps of Mrs. Kramer, or Matron as everybody called her, and the heavier, reserved but unfaltering accompaniment of the youthful leader of the White SeeDs. Hence he wasn't surprised to see three shaded figures in the door frame as the cabin door swung out smoothly on well- oiled hinges. Nevertheless they captured his attention, how could they not, especially after all that commotion over the miracle worker, Dr. Kadowaki. Quickly skimming over Matron's gentle beauty that belied her iron will and the Leader's incongruous solemn expression on that youthful face, his sharp green eyes lingered on the latest visitor to the circus side show featuring Amnesia Man. Lined with care and looking worn despite her neat physician's attire, she carried in her perceptive gaze a kindness that had weathered the many trials of life and prevailed. He watched her with an uncomfortable sensation of awe before he noticed that she was studying him. Dropping his gaze with knitted brows he rose up in greeting as Matron stepped forward.
"Seifer, this is Doctor Kadowaki," the raven- haired sorceress introduced, soothing the awkwardness with equal portions of gentleness and authority, "the Chief Physician of Balamb Garden as well as the leading field surgeon in the world's military." Ignoring the soft self- deprecating cough from the doctor, Edea went on to explain to the interested ex- knight. "She's probably seen to more battle casualties than any other in her practice and since we believe your current condition is battle- related, Doctor Kadowaki is the best person to trust."
Seifer absorbed all of this soberly, eyes dark and focused.
"All I know is," the old doctor began amiably, "that I do whatever I can for those who need it." She beamed at him for a moment, and Seifer thought, quietly assessing. Abruptly she turned to the others. "I'd like a few moments to examine him if it's alright?"
Fujin, the pale- haired soldier- lady who stood at attention by the door swivelled a single crimson eye towards Raijin who had also turned to her with a hesitant look. The White SeeD seemed to hold reservations of his own.
"Would you like one of us to assist you?" the young captain of the vessel tactfully offered but the doctor was already shaking her head.
Matron stepped back, resting her hand on his arm and smiled. The impassiveness returned to his face as the hints of doubt faded. On his part, Seifer nodded awkwardly at a blatantly staring crimson eye and another meeker collection of timid glances. Fujin returned the gesture, turning sharply to exit while Raijin grinned nervously and jogged out of the room and up the steps.
"Then we'll leave Seifer in your capable hands doctor," Edea said, allowing the young leader to take her arm and lead her out of the cabin.
The heavy white oak door shut with an unsettling click but Dr. Kadowaki didn't give Seifer any time to brood.
"If you would kindly sit over here while I quickly set up," she began briskly heaving the heavy case onto a plainly finished but sturdy oak desk of a darker tone than the door's. The top was a little too bright and bore signs of being scrubbed, presumably for her visit as the functional desk was denuded of the mounds of paperwork and stray stationary that should have covered it.
Seifer fidgeted uncertainly for a moment before gingerly making his way to the spartan piece of furniture the physician had invited him to settle in. Although the back of the rosewood piece was embossed with looping, intricate patterns, the raised surface meant that whoever set against it would have his flesh painfully printed onto and the bare, hard seat meant that any prolonged stay would result in a sore bottom. Knowing the White SeeDs, this piece of furniture was chosen for its complete disregard to ergonomics in favour of the way it encouraged duty as the only comfort. Still, it wasn't the potential backache that held him in his place.
"Doctor . . ." he began, drawing a puzzled look from the elderly physician.
"Is something wrong?" she queried with a careful glance.
Hissing in frustration and leaning his palms against the back of the chair, he slouched limply.
"My memories . . ." he started to say and then faltered before turning to look at Dr. Kadowaki, blue eyes darkening with unmasked emotion, "will they ever come back?"
Lined face clouding in doubt, she seemed reluctant to reply.
"It's not possible to answer that in a medically meaningful way." She paused for a moment searching his face thoughtfully and finally set down the docket she had opened, "Why don't you tell me what you can remember?"
Seifer turned his face down, watching without seeing a greying white carpet framed by woven olive trees. The physician gave him a moment, patiently observing him as she tucked her hands underneath folded arms.
"Fire . . ." Seifer broke the silence abruptly, "red heat glowing in my lids. I was burning, I had to get out, had to-" He swallowed painfully, face twisted by a deepening grimace while his breaths were so heavily burdened they became gasps. Shutting his eyes and visibly willing composure, he went on. "It felt good to kill those monsters. It was horrifying but exhilarating at the same time. Blood, drenched in so much foul blood and the cling of wet dark lumps . . . I heard laughter, crazed laughter, ringing in my ears . . . and my throat."
Balamb Garden's Chief Medical Officer watched the young man shake helplessly, her frown more incredulous than sympathetic. At length, the remembered horror subsided and the youth assumed a look of tired resignation.
"I heard about it from Edea, that you were found lost on the easternmost island of the Rem archipelago, a dangerous place. It's a good thing you killed whatever it was," she offered consolingly while silently considering the rest of the information Seifer probably wasn't aware of himself.
The easternmost island of the Rem archipelago was also infamously known as the Island Closest to Hell. Due to the unique flow of geomagnetic fields, the island cultivated intense magics which fed the monster denizens there and infused them with unnatural power. Horrific beasts of colossal girth wielding devastating power matched only by their taste for destruction terrorised the unpopulated wasteland of fiery craters and foreboding lairs. Against the advice of the crew of the White SeeD ship and his closest confidantes, Seifer had insisted two weeks ago on spending five days of survival training on the deserted island. Three days later, unable to abide by their word to leave him be, Raijin and Fujin made their uneasy trip to the accursed land, combing the island cautiously before finally finding a battle- ravaged and disoriented Seifer, wild- eyed and distressed while he huddled against a towering fort of randomly strewn Ruby Dragon carcasses.
To the stupefied duo then, it appeared as if he had been subjected to some severe shock but as of yet no one had satisfactorily determined the cause although there was a strong logical possibility that the strain to survive in the hellish land had made the young man snap. It was possible, just not likely. With only the sword in his hand and his sheer talent to back him up, Seifer could wipe out entire armies. A hardened and skilful warrior like Seifer would not have batted an eyelid even if stranded alone on an island with a legion of vicious abominations hemming him in.
It was so unlikely that it inevitably drew suspicion. Quistis had been almost apologetic about it but Xu had stood her ground. This might be an act of treachery. It was a vital likelihood to consider, after all, brainwashed or not, Seifer was still responsible for the deaths of thousands what with the Edea period and eventually during the Lunar Cry and its after effects. The death toll had yet to fully subside from the sudden spike in monster encounters. Kadowaki's mission here was clear, to support the White SeeDs with the medical attention a member of their crew needed as well as to determine the authenticity of Seifer's amnesia. The latter was hardly a job for a physician but there was no other tactful manner of gathering this information.
"Who am I?" Seifer whispered almost plaintively, "When will I remember?"
He looked up to the shifting sunlight against the shadows playing against his doctor's face, clear green eyes beseeching.
The bell- like tinkle of Rinoa's s nickel- plated ferrule against the clear neck of the jar of watercolour- stained liquid was the only crease in the fold of lulling silence that had tucked the budding artist in a private haven of self- expression. Pleased with her successful wash within the lightly pencilled sketch on her art pad she dried her brush against a damp cloth and leaned back, exhaling slowly, and taking pleasure in the small but meaningful exertion. Another ripple in the silence.
Lately it seemed there were too many of them, that the surface became too choppy to allow them to see themselves. It was for this reason that Rinoa had taken up painting, that and she had a lot of free time and Squall was very much against her enlisting into SeeD. Even as a novice she found expressing herself through her art fulfilling and calming. Sitting up again, she carefully laid the open art pad aside to dry her hands passing over the crimson corrugated cover of another pad. Hesitating for a moment she let her palms rest on the fluted surface before faintly quivering fingers gripped the sides of the thin pad, marking it with nail- crescent depressions. A sharp pain and the tell- tale coppery tang told her she had bitten through her lip. Abruptly, she dropped the book and thrust herself away from its steady image, her breaths hard and heavy till she slowly and painfully eased them to a low distressed whine that refused to die.
TBC