There was a mental block inside of her. Not the sort that kept her from being able to concentrate or get her work done. On the contrary, she was far too good at that. Days faded into evenings which melted into nights of piled up paperwork and headaches and cups of coffee with only half a spoonful of sugar and maybe some flavored creamer if she felt like splurging. The technique of sipping delicately out of an oversized mug instead of a dainty tea cup only looked professional when she did it. Each exam, referral, and official request had its own place on her desk. She was the sort of woman who could open all the windows in the room without having to worry about the wind disheveling them. And if, by some ungodly chance one sheet did escape from its respective place, it never stayed free for long.
Quistis liked to keep things in order. Feng Shui, to her, was keeping all her earthly possessions in a neat and organized fashion so nothing out of the ordinary could emerge and ruin further progress. Taking a step backwards was not an option for her. Unsurprisingly, her mind worked very similarly. Some might call it predictable, but since socializing was purposely kept to a comfortable business level because all other attempts at normality had failed, she considered it safe. Opinions, thoughts, feelings and emotions were separated and filed in different layers of her psyche. There was information as well, which was the only file she allowed others to have shared access to. That was what instructors did, after all. Sharing information with her students was the only pleasure she got out of life. Aside from the bottom layers of her psyche that some students dared to whisper about and some even argued over their improbable existence.
She had used up more red ink than she intended to that night. Exhaustion had misled her assumptions on how many students would pass or fail, and which ones did so. Jerrid passed, that was quite a surprise, but Dante and Sonya and Rinoa all failed. That was unexpected. Feeling discouraged, and already planning a new method of teaching the chapter next time around, she reached for her glasses. After slipping them on she glanced at the clock. Three in the morning. About ten hours had passed since she had moved from her desk. Any other teacher would have regretted picking up another course to teach. Except for Quistis. She enjoyed the workload. It kept her mind off of other things. Needless, fickle things.
Four hours of sleep would be enough. Well, four hours and fifteen minutes, if she put off cleaning her weapon. Though the idea of fifteen wasted minutes seemed blasphemous. So it was quickly forgotten. Wasting no time in collecting her papers and taking care of the coffee mug, empty aside from the brownish ring circling the bottom of it, she was changed, cleaned, and covered in her bed sheets in less than fifteen minutes. Sleep came quickly. Quistis did work herself to the point of exhaustion, so it was only natural that sleep hit her hard. Quistis also didn't allow herself room to imagine or dream, so her subconscious took care of that when her waking self had no control.
She had a mental block inside of her. It wasn't the type that prohibited her from reading or concentrating or getting her work done. No, this mental block was the type that protected her garden from destructive neighbors. In her dreams, she envisioned it as a sort of gate. Not a pleasant looking white picket fence, either. This fence looked more like a gate; a solid black metal gate that, when she thought about it, looked suspiciously like the one in Ultimecia's castle. Except there was no castle in her dream. All that existed was that gate and the lonely instructor. And a noise, the incessant sound of chain links beating on flesh as she continued to pound her fists against her steel prison. Her knuckles bled. But her blood wasn't red. A while ago she read that people don't really dream in color, in truth they dream in black and white, but the fact that she noticed her blood was abnormal must mean something. Dreams weren't important enough to analyze, she decided, and she was agitated because that stupid knocking was what woke her up in the morning.
Her eyes were open five minutes ahead of schedule. That was acceptable, so she stretched her arms and padded her feet against the rose colored rug at the side of her bed. Something wasn't right.
The knocking. It hadn't stopped. The sound had transformed from bare knuckles against metal to a palm beating against finished wood. Who would be requesting her presence five minutes before seven in the morning on a Wednesday? Worried that there might have been an emergency, her feet hastened to the door. The sight that met her was a walking catastrophe, but hardly anything earth shattering. If anything, Quistis would have had to say the sky was falling. The sky blue and the black melded perfectly on this girl's outfit. Quistis found it quite fitting because this girl could grasp any time of day and make it her own.
Rinoa smiled a greeting before letting it turn upside down. "Quistis, did you forget?"
Forget? How could Quistis forget something? She had never forgotten anything, much less what she assumed was a breakfast date with her student.
Still tired, and feeling unable to stop herself, Quistis had to ask. "Forget what?"
Rinoa didn't answer at first. Inviting herself into her instructor's room and plopping down on the under appreciated loveseat was a much more amusing course of action. She wasn't expecting a rise out of Quistis, but even if it irritated her a bit on the inside, that was sufficient enough for petty revenge. The instructor was calm, as usual, but after she shut the door behind the intruder her left eyebrow arched. "How am I supposed to make myself decent if you're in my room?"
"You have your own bathroom. Besides, I can close my eyes," Rinoa demonstrated by leaning her head back to rest on the seat with her eyelids closed.
"Do whatever you'd like. I will be ready to go in thirty minutes." Quistis began to go about her morning routine without giving Rinoa another glance.
The raven haired beauty would not stand to be forgotten, and then treated so casually. "Sorry Quistis, but we were supposed to be in the cafeteria fifteen minutes ago. How could you not remember? You're the one who said, 'Meet me at the entrance, and don't be late. If you are, I am going to homeroom without you.'" Rinoa paused during her rant, looking towards the closed bathroom door as if she could tell whether Quistis was paying attention from the other side. "How could you not remember? I thought you had died or something."
A noteworthy length of silence reigned before Quistis' muffled reply came. "When did we arrange this?"
"After I handed you my test yesterday, and told you I was worried about how I did. So you said we could get together this morning and you would ask me what questions I was unsure of. Well, actually you said something more like -"
"You failed that test, by the way."
Rinoa ignored that statement for the time being. "Anyway, are you saying you don't remember arranging this at all? I even marked down which questions I didn't understand."
Quistis, now ready to turn the faucet on, sounded close to being impatient. "Was I looking at you while we were having this conversation?"
"Well, no…" Rinoa recalled the afternoon before. Quistis was doing some random paperwork while Rinoa was speaking to her, nodding her head between allotted increments of time, but since Quistis was the one who made the plans, how was Rinoa wrong in assuming she would remember? Instructor Trepe, of all people, the most anal person she had ever met. … Except for maybe her father. She got restless sitting down, so she wandered around Quistis' room in boredom, noting its solemn shine and repressed colors. It was clean. Cleaner than the Infirmary, but its smell was of lavender and French Vanilla coffee, not antibiotics or hospital cleaner.
Four whips, all lined against the wall and in their own glass cases, stared back at Rinoa as she dared to look at them. From the way they shone, no one would have guessed the wear and tear they endured while on the quest to defeat the evil sorceress. How Quistis was able to keep them scratch less was beyond Rinoa's comprehension. She smiled to herself, betting that Quistis probably calculated which spots on the monster's bodies were the fleshiest so no harm would be done to her weapon. She was a perfectionist like that. Though that didn't matter. The girls were opposites, but from the old days when the seven of them traveled together, Quistis was the one she still spoke to the most. Besides Squall of course, but he was relatively busy with his duties as commander. Trepe also happened to be Rinoa's instructor. Maybe Quistis considered it her duty to help a student. Rinoa wasn't sure, but the optimistic heart in her wanted to believe that somewhere inside Quistis enjoyed her company on a personal level.
Nothing in the dorm looked to have any sort of sentimental value. There were a few magazines, the whips, a television and some furniture. No real belongings. Nothing that she could demand, 'Tell me about where you bought that,' and Quistis could reply with, 'Oh, actually a kind elderly man gave that to me when I was away on location.' Rinoa realized that the blond had no family besides the children she grew up with at the orphanage, and that the chances of her remembering were even slimmer because if they had forgotten about the orphanage, how could they recall events in their lifetimes beforehand? Orphans didn't usually have good family situations. Maybe it was better that they didn't remember.
Quistis emerged from the bathroom in exactly half an hour as she promised. Her outfit was as it always was, from her form fitting pink top down to her hefty boots. Her hair was as it always was, straightened to perfection and clipped back so that she would be viewed as a professional. What Rinoa noticed first was Quistis' face. Yes, same as always, polite and reserved but otherwise emotionless. If someone didn't know her well, they might think she was cold. The Trepies knew better than to think something like that, and so did Rinoa. Instructor Trepe's beauty came with a price. With the way she acted, no one would suspect that it bothered her at all.
It bothered Rinoa.
The two young women walked to Instructor Trepe's classroom. On the way they talked over the problems that Quistis knew Rinoa got wrong. Being the considerate instructor that she was, Quistis explained the correct courses of action, how to carry out questioning with civilians, what was considered acceptable and unacceptable behavior while wearing the SeeD uniform, and so on. Rinoa soaked it all in, she was bright like that, but it seemed that anything she didn't hear straight from Quistis' mouth didn't sink in. Reading the text book did nothing for her. When she bothered to read it, that was.
"Did that help you at all?" Quistis asked her once they reached the entrance to her classroom. None of the other students were there, it was only seven thirty, besides the Trepies standing at their usual spot beside her desk.
"Yeah. A lot, actually. Thanks."
Quistis seemed satisfied. "Good. Did you still need to meet me for another breakfast, then?"
Rinoa's eyes drifted towards the Trepies, all of whom were eyeing Quistis' every gesture, facial expression, and heel tap. When Rinoa stopped and thought about it, Quistis did tend to do that a lot. "Er, no I guess not."
Without another exchange, Quistis turned and went back into the classroom. Rinoa followed, found her usual seat, and began to sort through her text books. The Trepies diverted her attention. The way they ogled Quistis really got to her this morning. Usually Rinoa brushed them off and thought nothing of them. But today their stares and hushed whispers, like Quistis was nothing more than an object of gossip and superficial observation, really perturbed her. Rinoa figured she must just be feeling grumpy. Yeah, she definitely should have grabbed something to eat while she was waiting for Quistis to show up to breakfast.
Students slowly began to migrate into the room until it was filled by eight. No one dared come into Instructor Trepe's class late. The best part about it was that no one expected Quistis to yell or execute any sort of punishment. They just did as they were expected. Out of respect? Admiration? Rinoa tried pinpointing what exactly made Quistis different from her other teachers. There were a lot of things, but none of them seemed important. Her young age. Her formality that was able to be casual while still demanding respect. Her dress. The fact that she still looked beautiful in glasses. The way she unintentionally memorized which questions each student got wrong on the exams. The way that each candidate felt like they were an individual to her, even though none of them were anything more than a student. Except for Rinoa. Only because they had saved the world together.
The student that sat at the table ahead of Rinoa waved a paper in front of her face. She snapped from her thoughts, smiled apologetically for making him wait, and took her graded exam. The red markings at the top of the sheet made her cringe. Not good at all. Rinoa knew she would be having problems when Quistis announced the title of the chapter a week ago. "Conduct and Formality." Growing up, Rinoa had dismissed those concepts altogether. Now they were coming back to haunt her, and at a much more civilized level.
Quistis began the lecture for the day, so Rinoa set the stapled sheets to the side, and tried focusing for the remainder of the class period. Her confidence had dwindled after seeing that low mark. A plummet in her average was not something she felt she could afford. She was passing at least, but because her boyfriend was the Commander and Quistis was her instructor, she felt that she should be doing better.
The class ended, and Rinoa's mind had drifted off the entire time. The young girl got an idea. She approached Quistis' desk. The instructor was just putting her glasses back on. Quistis did not look surprised at all. "Hello again, Rinoa."
Rinoa tucked her poor test grade into one of her folders. "Hi Quistis. I changed my mind."
Quistis was visibly uncomfortable that Rinoa didn't refer to her as 'Instructor' when there were other students around. But this was Rinoa, and expecting her to conform to something like that was absurd. Quistis realized that a long time ago, so she let it slide. None of the other students were really paying attention anyway.
"Changed your mind about what?"
Rinoa set her books on top of Quistis' desk. The Feng Shui was ruined. "About getting together with you for help."
Quistis eyed the intruding stack of books above the rim of her glasses. She did not approve, but Rinoa couldn't care less. "Fine then. Breakfast tomorrow?"
"Actually…" Rinoa stepped to the side of Quistis' desk away from the three Trepies that were still lingering. Didn't they have classes to go to? "How about we go into town or something? I'm sick of Garden's food."
Quistis allowed herself to chuckle. "Don't you have a boyfriend to take you out to dinner?"
Rinoa ignored that comment. "Come on, it'll be fun."
"Rinoa," Quistis' tone turned stern. "You're my student now. I can't be seen 'fraternizing' with students off grounds. The Headmaster wouldn't think twice to fire me." There was a pause. "Again, that is."
Rinoa glanced at the coffee mug sitting on the desk. The Garden symbol was on it, and above it a light smudge of rosy lipstick. It smelled of French Vanilla, just like Quistis' living quarters. "We all know he needs you too much to fire you. Besides, it isn't like you're taking advantage of a younger student of the opposite sex. You just turned nineteen, not forty nine."
"Thanks for reminding me," Quistis remarked with a sour expression before standing up. Rinoa could tell by the grating in the instructor's voice that she was winning.
"Good. So how about we meet at six? If, you know, that doesn't infringe on your busy schedule."
"It does, in fact. But I'll deal."
Quistis dealt. She spent the rest of the day wondering how she let Rinoa talk her into it. That girl wasn't satisfied with getting only herself in trouble. She had to get everyone else in trouble too. Quistis didn't like to lose, but she felt like she just did. Oh well. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long. That was wishful thinking to the extreme. After seeing her horrible grade, Rinoa would probably have dozens of questions that needed answers.
As prearranged, the two of them met at six. Quistis was leaning against the gate, Chain Whip attached to her left hip, looking particularly moody to mask any happy feelings she might be having. Rinoa saw through the façade, but didn't let off that she did. Quistis deserved to have a good time, and Rinoa liked to think that she was pretty decent company. Better than Squall, anyway, and since everyone else was out on SeeD missions… Well, none of them would bother trying to crack Quistis anyway. Rinoa liked a challenge.
"I'm not late, Quistis. I'm on time. You're early."
The taller of the two stood up straight and smirked. "I never said you were." Her eyes scanned Rinoa up and down once. "Where are your books?"
It was Rinoa's turn to smirk back. "I have the questions up here," she tapped her right temple. "And I know you have the answers in there as well."
"Fair enough. Let's get going."
Together they left Garden and took the short walk to Balamb. Rinoa skipped on ahead while Quistis was studying the perimeter. Something was going on. There were a few construction workers carrying white ply boards. Rinoa stood still on the blue fields, waiting for Quistis to catch up so she could talk to her.
"What are they doing?"
Quistis stared uncomfortably at the small project. "It looks as though they are putting up a fence."
Rinoa was amused at the slight gesture, but still confused by it. "Why? We're at a time of peace. What do they need a fence for?"
"Better safe than sorry, Rinoa."
Rinoa looked at Quistis and gave her mock sigh of exasperation. "You would say that, wouldn't you?" She continued into town, but Quistis lingered for a few more moments, her eyes on the forthcoming fence.
When the two of them sat down to dinner at a tiny café, Rinoa continued to gaze out the window as the white fence slowly imprisoned the town.
"I think it's stupid," she finally blurted.
Quistis set down her glass of water. It was the first time Rinoa had seen her drink something that wasn't coffee. "Why do you say that?"
"It's a waste of time and energy. They don't need a stupid little fence. I think it's more for decoration than anything else."
Rinoa was fresh and childish. As annoying as it was, Quistis didn't mind having the opportunity to disagree. "They will find a purpose for it. Security measures always come in handy."
"Yeah, right," Rinoa said sarcastically. "If they want to keep people or animals out, they should build a huge ugly wall. Or a gate, or something."
Quistis took care in formulating her next response, but Rinoa's comment threw her off balance. "You're quite opinionated. Though I know I don't have to tell you that."
Rinoa was chewing her food, and she didn't bother to wait until she swallowed to speak up. "So are you. You're just not as vocal about it. Like the way you're frowning now, you're thinking it is impolite of me to talk with my mouth full."
"It is," Quistis grinned before taking another sip of her drink. "But I've learned to deal with your ways, Princess."
That was a mockery. Quistis did have a strange sense of humor. Rinoa looked out the window again. The fence was completely finished by her view, so she had nothing left to see. Sighing, she looked back at Quistis. "You can call me by my proper title, but I still won't call you Instructor."
"I know," Quistis knit her brow. "Why not?"
Rinoa was offended that Quistis even had to ask. "Because you were my colleague and friend before you were my teacher."
The instructor was tapping her heels underneath the table. Rinoa could feel the vibrations.
"As my friend, won't you comply with this one request?"
"Not when it strips you of your identity," Rinoa declared. Quistis could tell she meant it. The idea of knowing her as her superior was unacceptable to the fiery young girl.
"Rinoa, I was fired the first time because I was too informal and personal with my students. I won't let it happen again. I refuse to be demoted."
Rinoa's voice rose. "So then what? You'd be a SeeD and get to do what you love?"
"I love to teach." Her voice was even, the register straight and scratching. That was the tone that beat even Rinoa into submission.
"I know," she whispered back. "I'm sorry."
Silence followed. Rinoa was uncomfortable with it, but Quistis took that time to enjoy her food. She gave Rinoa sixty seconds before she got so uncomfortable that she just had to talk.
"It's just that I don't think its fair."
Fifty five seconds. She was close.
"Rinoa, I am the one who chose it. That sounds fair enough to me."
"Well, why?"
This time around, Quistis didn't sound as impatient. "Because I like to keep myself busy. And, as I told you, I love to teach."
Rinoa wiped the condensation off of her glass with her napkin. "Okay then. What else do you love?"
Quistis was caught by surprise. Better yet, she was caught in the vice grip of one of Rinoa's mind tricks. Damn. Damn again, because she didn't have an answer that she didn't have to make up, and lying wasn't her style.
"I suppose I do love working on the field, as well. I love the grip of my weapon's handle, and the sound it makes when it cracks down on its target. I love trying to make our world a better place."
Rinoa wasn't sure who Quistis was trying to persuade. "Okay then. What do you love to do that doesn't have to do with, you know, work?"
Quistis grinned before replying. "You're patronizing me, Rinoa. Don't bother."
Rinoa shuffled her feet against the floor. Her boots were making black scuff marks on the tile. No one looked at the floors in these kind of places anyway.
"Why do you think its such a bad thing to have interests outside of your occupation?"
"It is not bad. Just… not right for me. Rinoa, I'm logical and practical. You're free spirited and optimistic. If building a white picket fence to keep out intruders is a waste of time, then the two of us trying to understand each other would be throwing time away."
"I don't think you mean that Quistis. We understand each other perfectly well."
"Then allow me to rephrase," Quistis waited until Rinoa nodded with permission. "The two of us trying to relate to each other would be a complete waste of time."
Rinoa snatched the bill before Quistis had a chance to look at it, and stood up. "I'm paying… friend." Something inside of Quistis wouldn't let her argue. So she succumbed, and let Rinoa have the final satisfaction of the evening.
They hadn't gotten any work done, but Quistis tried not to think of it. When she did, she came to the painful realization that Rinoa had gotten the best of her. A part of Quistis admired Rinoa's conniving side.
Rinoa had rubbed off on her that night. Too much. Quistis went to bed half an hour early. She lay down, still feeling full from the light dinner that she had at the diner, and fell asleep. She thought she was asleep, she must have been. She was dreaming, after all.
Yes, it must have been a dream. Only her sleeping self would conjure up a scene like this…
Where was the black metal gate? It was gone, and Quistis could see the world on the other side of her prison. This time, however, the prison did not look so hopeless. The only thing that kept her inside was a white picket fence. The spokes of the wood reached to her mid-thighs, hell, she could climb over it if she wanted to. A blue field waited for her on the other side, but she still found herself unable to move.
She was right before the fence. Not touching it, but close enough so that her skirt would brush against it if the wind picked up. On the other side, standing about half a mile away, was Rinoa. Her wings rustled, as if she was just landing, and a bright smile crossed her face.
There were no words shared between them.
Rinoa looked like she wanted to wave, but she didn't. Her body, still and serene, remained silhouetted against the pink and orange clouds off in the distance. The wind didn't pick up, which was a shame, because Quistis imagined Rinoa would look even more brilliant if it did, with her hair and cape floating freely away with her soul.
Rinoa blew her a kiss, then turned around and walked in the opposite direction.
Quistis felt no despair.