Author's Note: Why another FFVIII novelization? Why not. It's one of the only time travel stories that is internally consistent, and it has some good things to say. Unlike my FFVII novelization, this story will be more streamlined and probably much shorter. And updated infrequently. I am currently using it as a home-away-from-home writing project as a refurbish and perfect The Jenova Project. Anyway, enjoy.

The Seeds Trilogy

Book I: Fields

SQUALL

The Balamb Garden infirmary was in the southwest pod. The spring breeze came from the west, and when it wedged itself between pods it whistled and made the birds scramble and chatter. Squall woke to the chirping again. Dr. Kadowaki was rustling at her desk in the other room, he couldn't see her but he knew her by the humming.

He'd been dreaming again. Waves, crashing against the shores, but instead of the breathy splashing noises, they whispered to him in a dead language. He floated over the ocean, but the waves cracked like parched earth, and then, out of the cracks, fields of blue grass, flowers, and a girl he did not know. She snatched the floating petals from the air, one by one. Each time she opened her hands, the petals had become feathers.

(Dreams are just random images.) he thought.

Squall's other eye was open for the first time in days. He hadn't seen the drapes in the east corner of his room before – gently flapping at the open window. Flying back in the room, arcing over his head. As both of his eyes focused he realized – first with relief and then with a secret terror – that the bandage on his head was gone. He reached up to touch his brow. His fingers followed a thick trench from his right eye-brow across the bridge of his nose to his cheekbone. It was a clean scar, at least. No bubbles of scar tissue at the ridges. Just a neat slash on his face.

Dr. Kadowaki passed by the open doorway in a white coat, with a black bun so tight it pulled her eyebrows back. She glanced at Squall as he sat up in bed and walked in the room. She held up three fingers and grimaced at him.

"How many?" she asked.

"Three."

She held up a second hand. "Which hand is closer to you?"

"Left."

She relaxed and crossed her arms. "How do you feel?"

(Okay, I guess.) He played with the scar until he realized she wanted an answer. "Okay."

"Some way to spend the weekend, Mr. Leonhart." Dr. Kadowaki turned a corner and grabbed two hangers with Squall's clothes on them. She hung them on a hook inside of the room. "Your eye has healed nicely, but the scar will stay. Take it easy in training. Next time, you might not be so lucky."

"Tell that to Seifer."

"I would if he'd listen to anybody. Why don't you just ignore him?"

"I can't just run away."

"You wanna be cool, huh?" She began to close the door behind her. "Staying alive is pretty cool. Here are your clothes. You're fit for class again. Instructor Trepe should be coming to claim you now." She closed the door and continued humming on the other side.

Squall lay there for a moment longer, and ran his hand along the scar again.

Seifer had offered it casually at first, an after-hours sparring session in the training ground. Squall had his preliminary exam the next morning, so he'd declined, but it was more than that. Seifer had it out for Squall, for some unremembered reason. Squall didn't know why, he couldn't think of a time he had antagonized him. Maybe it was because they both specialized in the same rare weapon. So he declined. He knew it wouldn't just be sparring.

But then Seifer went and questioned Squall's courage in front of everyone, and that just wouldn't do.

He made sure the drapes weren't flying open when he emerged naked from the bed. He slipped on his pants and white shirt. He found his necklace in the pocket of his leather jacket. He picked the blood off of the silver lion emblem on the chain. When it was around his neck, he felt more like himself again. He turned to look at his reflection in the visitation window.

There was someone on the other side.

She was a few years older than him, at that time when a few months was the difference between a boy and a man. She had a long green scarf slung over her forearms that hung loosely behind her. She looked at him with a smile on her face.

"Squall," she said. Her voice was barely audible through the window. "We meet again."

(I've never seen her before in my life) he thought. (How long has she been standing there?) His clothes were already on, but he somehow felt naked again. (Why didn't I think to check the visitation window before getting out of bed?) They both stood looking at one another until the girl turned and left. Squall didn't understand the look on her face, but there was a marked change on it.

Squall put on his jacket, cracked open the door, and looked out into the infirmary. Dr. Kadowaki was on the phone, but there was no other commotion. He left the door ajar.

He lay down on the bed. The white fur around the collar of his jacket made up for the hard pillow. He lay there in confusion until the moment slipped from his mind and he was thinking about the fight again.

They'd both brought their gunblades with all six chambers full, but Seifer insisted they empty them as a show of fair play. Seifer had suggested it. He must have hidden an extra shell up the sleeve of that white trenchcoat he loved so much. Twelve shells clattered to the rocky ground, and then their blades met.

Gunblades were strong - heavy and thick. Without the shells, they were almost harmless. And they could crash into each other blade-to-blade. A lesser sword would shatter if met with other steel. But two gunblades could blow into each other for a long while without needing repair. Seifer was the more ferocious swordsman, but Squall had stamina on his side. (If only Seifer had fought fair...)

"I knew it'd either be you or Seifer!" Quistis Trepe marched into the room. She was wearing her SeeD uniform – a black skirt-suit with the typical ornate lapel and a red tie. Her eyes rolled behind her thin glasses when she saw him. "Turns out it was both. Can you stand?"

Squall climbed out of bed as a response.

"Can you talk?" Instructor Trepe asked.

Squall sighed. "He didn't cut into my brain."

His instructor shook her head.

Squall walked into the infirmary's main room. Carbunkle, the small green Guardian of the doctor, hovered magically over the desk, which was shaped like a painter's palette. The creature looked like a small rodent, with a long swishing tail and a bright red ruby nestled atop its head. Carbunkle looked at him and chirped. The air around the Guardian sparkled.

Dr. Kadowaki didn't look up from her paperwork as she waved them goodbye. It was more of a shoo. Squall looked around the room for the girl with the green scarf, to see if she was still lurking. She wasn't.

Quistis led Squall out of the infirmary and along the covered mall towards the Garden's main building. Sunlight streamed through the pillars, lighting up the purple walkway. The birds tweeted on. They walked silently.

"Squall, is there something on your mind?" Quistis asked.

Squall kept walking, thinking of a response. Quistis studied his face and counted the seconds. By the time Squall said "Not really," Quistis was already repeating it in a mocking tone. She laughed.

"That's funny?" Squall asked.

"It's not funny. I'm just happy. I'm beginning to understand my student, that's all."

"I'm more complex than you think."

"Then tell me," she asked. "Tell me about yourself."

For some reason, he considered telling her about the dream. But he remembered how often his dorm mate Zell started every morning by telling Squall about whatever random images his brain had conjured up the night before. Squall resolved never to bore anyone like that. "It's none of your—"

"—Business." This put Quistis in another fit of humming laughter.

The early morning classes were letting out, and students were filling the courtyards on either side of the mall. Exam season was usually blessed with nice weather, the rains usually let up but it wasn't full summer heat yet. There were circles of friends sitting in the grass under the shadow of Balamb Garden's halo. Squall spied some new students arriving for the summer semester, filled with nervous energy. Some of them had parents who pointed excitedly up at the halo. It was an intricately designed gold and silver structure encircling the top of the main building, held into place by tethers and supports. It had huge moving spires that were wind-sensitive and shimmered, making the halo artificially radiant. The halo was ancient tech, it pre-dated Garden and SeeD (and who knows what else). But it was beautiful.

Squall rarely even noticed it anymore.

The melodic old bells clanged loudly from hollows in the main building's conch-like recesses. Class was starting.