Revolver And Friend
------by strange writer
Another calm day in Balamb Garden. Everything seemed so peaceful...there were no battles going on, Galbadia had been relatively quiet, and SeeD had not been dispatched in quite a long while. Yes, everything was quite peaceful indeed...
But if you're a SeeD trainee, that's just not good business.
Now, more than ever, Balamb Garden needed more SeeDs. The ones they had right now were going on into their second year into 'SeeD-ship', to say. Graduating more trainees was essential to the future of Balamb. If nothing happened soon, Galbadia would fly ahead in the talent department, leaving them up the river in terms of cash-flow. Galbadia was always in some sort of battle, since they are more of a warlike country than other nations, like Trabia and Balamb. Constant fighting between them and the hidden city of Esthar kept new recruits busy. And that, according to Headmaster Cid wasn't good...not good at all.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Mr. Cid," the receptionist said through the intercom in his office. "You have a call. Should I patch him through?"
"Who is it now," he asked in a dreary tone, putting down a large stack of papers that he was reading through. "Tell that fool Martine that he doesn't need to rub it in. I've got enough problems as it is."
"Sorry, Mr. Cid, it's not him," she replied in a soothing tone. "It's some guy...he talks really weird."
"...Weird?"
"Yes. He speaks really loud...and he sounds like he's laboring under heavy breath."
Cid widened his eyes, then replied. "I'll take it! I've got it, Sheila. Thank you!"
"Sure thing," she said, as she got off the intercom. Cid immediately picked up the phone, almost letting it slip from his hands in clumsiness. He fumbled to get the receiver to his ear. Speaking cautiously, he asked who it was...even though he already knew full well who it was.
"H-Hello? Who is it?"
"YOU-FOOL-CID! WHAT-MUST-I-DO-TO-SAVE-GARDEN?," the voice roared through the phone.
"W-Well, I was just about to...call you. You see, I~~"
The vicious voice cut him off. "NO-EXCUSE-IS-GOOD-ENOUGH-CID! YOU-NEED-A-MISSION!"
Cid asked in a low, kindly tone, "Um...w-what do you w-want me to do? You know I can't just make missions..."
"I-CAN," the voice countered.
"But that's unethical! The rule book clearly states that~~"
He got cut off again. "I-KNOW-WHAT-RULE-BOOK-SAYS! I-WROTE-RULE-BOOK-REMEMBER?"
"Y-y-yes. I know, but~~"
"CID! YOU-ARE-MY-SUBORDINATE! YOU-WILL-DO-WHATEVER-I-SAY!"
Cid finally gave in, realizing whatever he said or suggested would fall on deaf ears. "...I understand. What do you want me to do?"
"GALBADIA-WILL-ATTACK-DOLLET. SEED-AND-SEED-TRAINEES-WILL-TAKE-MISSION-TO-TAKE-BACK-DOLLET-FROM-GALBADIA."
"Dollet? Are you sure," he asked.
"YOU-WILL-QUESTION-MY-JUDGMENT-CID?"
"N-no! I would never...I'd never do that," he profusely repeated.
"GOOD. THAT-IS-THE-PLAN-FOR-BALAMB-GARDEN. GALBADIA-SOLDIERS-ATTACK-DOLLET. SEED-AND-SEED-TRAINEES-WILL-APPEAL-TO-BOARD-OF-DOLLET-DIRECTORS-TO-SAVE-DOLLET. BALAMB-GARDEN-WILL-ACCEPT-MISSION-AND-FIGHT-GALBADIA. THAT-IS-THE-PLAN."
"O-Okay," he said, worry filling his voice.
"GOOD. YOU-UNDERSTAND-NOW."
"Whew," the stressed man sighed to himself silently.
"CID-I-MUST-TELL-YOU-SOMETHING."
Cid didn't like where this conversation was heading. "Y-Yes?"
"IF-BALAMB-GARDEN-FAILS-YOU-WILL-DIE!"
The receiver cut off abruptly, leaving Cid clinging to a dead phone. Hanging up the phone and wiping the few beads of sweat that accumulated off of his brow, Cid pulled out a bottle of hard liquor from his top desk drawer. He then pulled out a small shot glass, pouring himself a little. Just then, the receptionist knocked and entered. Seeing the bottle of liquor on the desk, the woman in a dark blue skirt and pony-tailed black hair asked him if anything was wrong.
"Mr. Cid, are you okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it's nothing. I'm fine."
"Well, all right." She walked over to his desk and handed him some more papers. "I just received these by digital fax from Galbadia Garden. Headmaster Martine sent these."
"..."
"Mr. Cid, sir?"
"I see. Sheila, thank you. You may go now."
Sheila the receptionist left his office, leaving him to drink his booze alone. He picked his shot glass up, sipped its contents, leaned back in his chair and sighed in anticipation of the battle to come.
~~~~~~~~~~
In the cafeteria, first lunch period had already began. Large crowds of students had already gotten in line, and it extended nearly all the way out into the lobby. Nearly all of the lunch tables had already been taken, and people talked and laughed about their classes and their after-school activities. One particular young man, wearing a dark black coat, lined with snow white fur and wearing multiple brown belts on his equally black jeans was near the front of the line. He looked depressed.
"I hate this. Why do I have to fight this idiot again," he pondered to himself as he stood in line to get his food. Then a loud voice came out of nowhere.
"Hey! Squall!"
The young man named Squall looked around, looking to find out where the voice was coming from. A short youth with short blonde hair, a strange tattoo on his left cheek and wearing red and blue-colored casual wear came running up to him.
"Hey Squall! How's my favorite pal doing today, eh?"
"...Just fine, Zell," he replied dully.
The young man named Zell stood there for a minute, then started to converse with the girls in line behind Squall. "Hey ladies," he said, flashing his trademark cheesy smile at them. "What's for lunch today?"
"Hot dogs, of course," they replied simultaneously, giggling in the process.
"Yep! That's right," he replied, turning to the dark-haired youth again. "So Squall, you won't mind if I get in here, would ya?" Zell got in front of the two schoolgirls and right behind him, making no effort to cover up the fact that he was cutting in line. Two boys and another girl started to flail their arms, complaining and yelling at this brazen maneuver.
"Quiet, Trepies," he countered, turning around in line and ignoring them. The Trepies got back in line, deciding not to make a big scene.
"...What a jerk," Squall whispered to himself.
"Eh," Zell asked, still sporting that stupid smile. "What's the big deal? It's just me, after all."
"No big deal. Forget about it," he replied, not even turning around to look at him.
"Oh well. So anyway, Mr. Mysterious! What's for lunch?"
"..."
"What? What did I do," the blonde asked.
Squall turned around and replied. "Hot dogs, of course! E-hee-hee," he said, with painful sarcasm. He rolled his eyes and turned back around in line.
"Okay, okay...geez, no reason to get all huffy..."
Squall had finally gotten to the front of the line. The cafeteria lady looked up and politely asked what he wanted.
"An order of salad and some orange juice," he calmly replied.
"Pick it up at the counter," she told him. "Next!"
Squall left and headed over to get his order. Zell walked up to the ordering stand grinning, like he had won an award or something. The cafeteria lady looked up and smiled. "If it isn't little Zell! I know what you want today!"
"Yep! I'm a growing boy, as you know!"
"What was it," she asked. "Four hot dogs?"
"Ahh, better make it five today. I trained really hard, so I need it!"
"Coming right up," she replied with joy. She handed him a tray with five hot dogs on it. Zell politely thanked her and left to sit down. The two girls got up to the counter, but the cafeteria lady spoke up before they could. "Sorry, but we're out of hot dogs", she announced loudly. "You'll have to have a burger or a salad instead!" The entire line moaned simultaneously, while the Trepies all stomped one foot on the ground and snapped their fingers. Zell sat down at a nearby table, while Squall was putting some dressing on his salad. As he did this, he wondered to himself about something that just transpired...or that he thought had just transpired.
"In line, did Zell touch my..." He thought about it for a moment, then shook his head, telling him it didn't happen and that it was all his imagination. "Nah. My mind has to be messing with me. That couldn't have possibly happened." He picked up his tray and looked for a place to sit.
~~~~~~~~~~
All of the dining tables were filled except for a few that were far away from the exits. Squall tried to pick a place to sit down and eat from the few remaining spots left. He decided to sit down alone at a table that happened to be right across from where Zell was at. Putting his tray down, he pulled out the chair and made himself comfortable. As he looked over, Zell was talking off his denim jacket and hanging it over the chair. The blonde sat down and rubbed his hands together, getting ready to chow down.
"It's time for some grub," he loudly proclaimed. He stuffed one hot dog completely in his mouth, trying to get the whole thing down in one gulp without chewing. Squall could only just watch him as he stuffed his face. Zell looked up and saw him watching. He gave him a quick wink.
"Huh," Squall thought, bringing his head back a little. "Did he just..."
As he continued to chow down, people sitting at a nearby table watched him eat while laughing at him.
"You idiot," one guy said. "Don't you know what teeth are for? Sheesh!"
"Yeah, really," a girl chimed in. "Didn't your mother ever tell you to chew thoroughly before you swallow? Oh well, I guess the Dincht family ARE just a bunch of Neanderthals." The group at the table laughed loudly at that while Zell just looked at then with narrowed eyes.
"Shut up," he said, his voice muffled by the partially eaten hot dog. He ate the rest of it quickly and finished up his thoughts. "Shut up! What the hell do you know about my family?"
"Enough to know that you have no values," said the guy.
"What," exclaimed Zell. He threw the hot dog he had just picked up back down onto the tray. He then marched over to the malicious youth mocking him, pulling him up out of his chair by his shirt. "What'd you say, punk? Huh?"
"I-I-I didn't s-say anything," he stated with cowardice, knowing the situation he was in wasn't tilted in his favor.
"Really," Zell asked. "What's the matter, moron? Don't wanna repeat what you said? Afraid I'm gonna kick your ass if you do? Huh?"
"C-Come on now...there's no need to be like this..."
"Yeah, right." He let go of him and pushed him back down in his seat. The guy had a long wet spot running down the left leg of his trousers. The fiery blonde went back to his station and resumed eating his meal in silence. Squall watched the entire event unfold in sheer amazement.
"Wow," he said silently. "I never saw that coming."
As Squall continued to eat, Zell looked up at him. He picked up his tray, got up and moved to the table where the darker-haired man was sitting.
"Hey pal," he said, his mood drastically changing from horrible to likable in a split second. "Sorry you had to see that. I couldn't help it."
"Don't mind me. I'm only an observer."
"Okay, I see. So what's on your agenda for today?"
Squall looked at him like he had asked him something strange. "Why do you want to know?"
Zell replied. "Well, I just wanted to hang out with you for a little while."
"Hang...out," he asked, like he had never heard the saying. "Why would you want to do that?"
"I don't know. To see what you're always up to. You're always by yourself."
"I know. That's how I prefer it."
"Well, I don't like it."
"That's too bad."
"Why?"
Squall was now getting irritated by this barrage of inquiries and comments. His tone got a little more darker now. "Listen. I enjoy being by myself. And that's all you need to know." He was going to end the conversation now. "So why don't you just scurry on along and~~" Squall stopped his sentence dead in its tracks. His attention was now fixed on something else.
"What? What did I do," Zell asked him.
"...?" Squall was peering his head up and around Zell to look behind him.
"What?" Zell turned his head to see what was so interesting. At the furthermost table near the exit sat three people. On the left sat a muscular black man in a light blue vest and a dark blue baggy bottom. He was laughing belligerently and making crude comments. On the right sat a pale-looking female that also wore a light blue ensemble. She was listening to the man on the left crack jokes while she sharpened up the spiked tips of a large metal hoop with a pocket-sized knife. In the middle sat a taller man with very short sandy blonde hair, dark green eyes and a long trench coat. He wore a dark blue vest underneath and had his feet propped up on the table with his hands behind his head. As he sat that way, he stared directly at Squall.
"Them? Oh geez, not now," Zell muttered.
"..." Squall didn't acknowledge his comment.
All of a sudden the man in the long tan coat got up from his seat and walked gingerly toward where the duo were sitting. He got to their table, putting his hands on it and looming over them.
"Well well well, what do we have here," the man said with a sneer on his face. "If it isn't Captain Gunblade and his trusty sidekick Pansy-Boy!"
"..." Squall stared directly into his eyes with suppressed ire.
"Why don't you shut up and sit back down," Zell told him with force.
The man turned his attention to him. "Well that wouldn't be very fun now, would it?"
"What do you want anyway, Seifer?"
"The man named Seifer answered with a big grin. "This just doesn't involve kids, so maybe you should cover your ears."
"Screw you," he retorted.
"Mmm. Interesting concept." Zell looked away, obviously furious and not wanting to show it. Seifer turned his attention again to Squall and continued on. "Listen up and listen well. It's goin' down in the hidden spot in the Training Sector. Either Raijin or Fujin will be waiting for you so they can show you where it's happening at." Seifer got in close to him, enhancing his menacing presence even more. "After final period. Be there." He pulled out from near him, taking his hands off the table and heading to the door. Raijin and Fujin were following in tow right behind their leader. As he turned to walk out, he addressed the gunblade wielder one final time. His tone of voice was calm and cool, yet frightening.
"Please Squall. Don't disappoint me this time. And if you don't show up...I will come looking for you. And you honestly don't want me to come looking for you, because I'll be forced to cripple you."
The trio walked out, leaving a stunned and silent lunchroom in their wake. Squall and Zell had completely forgotten that the cafeteria was still relatively full. And they were even more shocked when they realized everyone was listening in on the little meeting the two swordsmen had.
"Damn...what does he mean 'it's goin' down'?" Zell turned to Squall, questioning what had happened. "Hey man! You two gonna have a little scrap or somethin'?"
"..." Squall remained silent, not acknowledging his presence.
"Hey! Squall! Snap out of it!" Zell grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. Squall countered by pushing his arms off of him.
"I heard you the first time!"
"Okay! Get a grip, man! Geez!"
"...I do have a grip."
"Yeah, sure. I believe you."
Squall picked up his tray of salad that was barely even eaten, got up and dumped it in the trash. He proceeded to walk out of the cafeteria, leaving the fighter behind. "Hey, Squall! Wait up! Wa--------it!" Zell took his tray that had one partially eaten hot dog on it and dumped it. "Squall! Come on," he yelled as he sprinted out of the cafeteria.
------by strange writer
Another calm day in Balamb Garden. Everything seemed so peaceful...there were no battles going on, Galbadia had been relatively quiet, and SeeD had not been dispatched in quite a long while. Yes, everything was quite peaceful indeed...
But if you're a SeeD trainee, that's just not good business.
Now, more than ever, Balamb Garden needed more SeeDs. The ones they had right now were going on into their second year into 'SeeD-ship', to say. Graduating more trainees was essential to the future of Balamb. If nothing happened soon, Galbadia would fly ahead in the talent department, leaving them up the river in terms of cash-flow. Galbadia was always in some sort of battle, since they are more of a warlike country than other nations, like Trabia and Balamb. Constant fighting between them and the hidden city of Esthar kept new recruits busy. And that, according to Headmaster Cid wasn't good...not good at all.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Mr. Cid," the receptionist said through the intercom in his office. "You have a call. Should I patch him through?"
"Who is it now," he asked in a dreary tone, putting down a large stack of papers that he was reading through. "Tell that fool Martine that he doesn't need to rub it in. I've got enough problems as it is."
"Sorry, Mr. Cid, it's not him," she replied in a soothing tone. "It's some guy...he talks really weird."
"...Weird?"
"Yes. He speaks really loud...and he sounds like he's laboring under heavy breath."
Cid widened his eyes, then replied. "I'll take it! I've got it, Sheila. Thank you!"
"Sure thing," she said, as she got off the intercom. Cid immediately picked up the phone, almost letting it slip from his hands in clumsiness. He fumbled to get the receiver to his ear. Speaking cautiously, he asked who it was...even though he already knew full well who it was.
"H-Hello? Who is it?"
"YOU-FOOL-CID! WHAT-MUST-I-DO-TO-SAVE-GARDEN?," the voice roared through the phone.
"W-Well, I was just about to...call you. You see, I~~"
The vicious voice cut him off. "NO-EXCUSE-IS-GOOD-ENOUGH-CID! YOU-NEED-A-MISSION!"
Cid asked in a low, kindly tone, "Um...w-what do you w-want me to do? You know I can't just make missions..."
"I-CAN," the voice countered.
"But that's unethical! The rule book clearly states that~~"
He got cut off again. "I-KNOW-WHAT-RULE-BOOK-SAYS! I-WROTE-RULE-BOOK-REMEMBER?"
"Y-y-yes. I know, but~~"
"CID! YOU-ARE-MY-SUBORDINATE! YOU-WILL-DO-WHATEVER-I-SAY!"
Cid finally gave in, realizing whatever he said or suggested would fall on deaf ears. "...I understand. What do you want me to do?"
"GALBADIA-WILL-ATTACK-DOLLET. SEED-AND-SEED-TRAINEES-WILL-TAKE-MISSION-TO-TAKE-BACK-DOLLET-FROM-GALBADIA."
"Dollet? Are you sure," he asked.
"YOU-WILL-QUESTION-MY-JUDGMENT-CID?"
"N-no! I would never...I'd never do that," he profusely repeated.
"GOOD. THAT-IS-THE-PLAN-FOR-BALAMB-GARDEN. GALBADIA-SOLDIERS-ATTACK-DOLLET. SEED-AND-SEED-TRAINEES-WILL-APPEAL-TO-BOARD-OF-DOLLET-DIRECTORS-TO-SAVE-DOLLET. BALAMB-GARDEN-WILL-ACCEPT-MISSION-AND-FIGHT-GALBADIA. THAT-IS-THE-PLAN."
"O-Okay," he said, worry filling his voice.
"GOOD. YOU-UNDERSTAND-NOW."
"Whew," the stressed man sighed to himself silently.
"CID-I-MUST-TELL-YOU-SOMETHING."
Cid didn't like where this conversation was heading. "Y-Yes?"
"IF-BALAMB-GARDEN-FAILS-YOU-WILL-DIE!"
The receiver cut off abruptly, leaving Cid clinging to a dead phone. Hanging up the phone and wiping the few beads of sweat that accumulated off of his brow, Cid pulled out a bottle of hard liquor from his top desk drawer. He then pulled out a small shot glass, pouring himself a little. Just then, the receptionist knocked and entered. Seeing the bottle of liquor on the desk, the woman in a dark blue skirt and pony-tailed black hair asked him if anything was wrong.
"Mr. Cid, are you okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it's nothing. I'm fine."
"Well, all right." She walked over to his desk and handed him some more papers. "I just received these by digital fax from Galbadia Garden. Headmaster Martine sent these."
"..."
"Mr. Cid, sir?"
"I see. Sheila, thank you. You may go now."
Sheila the receptionist left his office, leaving him to drink his booze alone. He picked his shot glass up, sipped its contents, leaned back in his chair and sighed in anticipation of the battle to come.
~~~~~~~~~~
In the cafeteria, first lunch period had already began. Large crowds of students had already gotten in line, and it extended nearly all the way out into the lobby. Nearly all of the lunch tables had already been taken, and people talked and laughed about their classes and their after-school activities. One particular young man, wearing a dark black coat, lined with snow white fur and wearing multiple brown belts on his equally black jeans was near the front of the line. He looked depressed.
"I hate this. Why do I have to fight this idiot again," he pondered to himself as he stood in line to get his food. Then a loud voice came out of nowhere.
"Hey! Squall!"
The young man named Squall looked around, looking to find out where the voice was coming from. A short youth with short blonde hair, a strange tattoo on his left cheek and wearing red and blue-colored casual wear came running up to him.
"Hey Squall! How's my favorite pal doing today, eh?"
"...Just fine, Zell," he replied dully.
The young man named Zell stood there for a minute, then started to converse with the girls in line behind Squall. "Hey ladies," he said, flashing his trademark cheesy smile at them. "What's for lunch today?"
"Hot dogs, of course," they replied simultaneously, giggling in the process.
"Yep! That's right," he replied, turning to the dark-haired youth again. "So Squall, you won't mind if I get in here, would ya?" Zell got in front of the two schoolgirls and right behind him, making no effort to cover up the fact that he was cutting in line. Two boys and another girl started to flail their arms, complaining and yelling at this brazen maneuver.
"Quiet, Trepies," he countered, turning around in line and ignoring them. The Trepies got back in line, deciding not to make a big scene.
"...What a jerk," Squall whispered to himself.
"Eh," Zell asked, still sporting that stupid smile. "What's the big deal? It's just me, after all."
"No big deal. Forget about it," he replied, not even turning around to look at him.
"Oh well. So anyway, Mr. Mysterious! What's for lunch?"
"..."
"What? What did I do," the blonde asked.
Squall turned around and replied. "Hot dogs, of course! E-hee-hee," he said, with painful sarcasm. He rolled his eyes and turned back around in line.
"Okay, okay...geez, no reason to get all huffy..."
Squall had finally gotten to the front of the line. The cafeteria lady looked up and politely asked what he wanted.
"An order of salad and some orange juice," he calmly replied.
"Pick it up at the counter," she told him. "Next!"
Squall left and headed over to get his order. Zell walked up to the ordering stand grinning, like he had won an award or something. The cafeteria lady looked up and smiled. "If it isn't little Zell! I know what you want today!"
"Yep! I'm a growing boy, as you know!"
"What was it," she asked. "Four hot dogs?"
"Ahh, better make it five today. I trained really hard, so I need it!"
"Coming right up," she replied with joy. She handed him a tray with five hot dogs on it. Zell politely thanked her and left to sit down. The two girls got up to the counter, but the cafeteria lady spoke up before they could. "Sorry, but we're out of hot dogs", she announced loudly. "You'll have to have a burger or a salad instead!" The entire line moaned simultaneously, while the Trepies all stomped one foot on the ground and snapped their fingers. Zell sat down at a nearby table, while Squall was putting some dressing on his salad. As he did this, he wondered to himself about something that just transpired...or that he thought had just transpired.
"In line, did Zell touch my..." He thought about it for a moment, then shook his head, telling him it didn't happen and that it was all his imagination. "Nah. My mind has to be messing with me. That couldn't have possibly happened." He picked up his tray and looked for a place to sit.
~~~~~~~~~~
All of the dining tables were filled except for a few that were far away from the exits. Squall tried to pick a place to sit down and eat from the few remaining spots left. He decided to sit down alone at a table that happened to be right across from where Zell was at. Putting his tray down, he pulled out the chair and made himself comfortable. As he looked over, Zell was talking off his denim jacket and hanging it over the chair. The blonde sat down and rubbed his hands together, getting ready to chow down.
"It's time for some grub," he loudly proclaimed. He stuffed one hot dog completely in his mouth, trying to get the whole thing down in one gulp without chewing. Squall could only just watch him as he stuffed his face. Zell looked up and saw him watching. He gave him a quick wink.
"Huh," Squall thought, bringing his head back a little. "Did he just..."
As he continued to chow down, people sitting at a nearby table watched him eat while laughing at him.
"You idiot," one guy said. "Don't you know what teeth are for? Sheesh!"
"Yeah, really," a girl chimed in. "Didn't your mother ever tell you to chew thoroughly before you swallow? Oh well, I guess the Dincht family ARE just a bunch of Neanderthals." The group at the table laughed loudly at that while Zell just looked at then with narrowed eyes.
"Shut up," he said, his voice muffled by the partially eaten hot dog. He ate the rest of it quickly and finished up his thoughts. "Shut up! What the hell do you know about my family?"
"Enough to know that you have no values," said the guy.
"What," exclaimed Zell. He threw the hot dog he had just picked up back down onto the tray. He then marched over to the malicious youth mocking him, pulling him up out of his chair by his shirt. "What'd you say, punk? Huh?"
"I-I-I didn't s-say anything," he stated with cowardice, knowing the situation he was in wasn't tilted in his favor.
"Really," Zell asked. "What's the matter, moron? Don't wanna repeat what you said? Afraid I'm gonna kick your ass if you do? Huh?"
"C-Come on now...there's no need to be like this..."
"Yeah, right." He let go of him and pushed him back down in his seat. The guy had a long wet spot running down the left leg of his trousers. The fiery blonde went back to his station and resumed eating his meal in silence. Squall watched the entire event unfold in sheer amazement.
"Wow," he said silently. "I never saw that coming."
As Squall continued to eat, Zell looked up at him. He picked up his tray, got up and moved to the table where the darker-haired man was sitting.
"Hey pal," he said, his mood drastically changing from horrible to likable in a split second. "Sorry you had to see that. I couldn't help it."
"Don't mind me. I'm only an observer."
"Okay, I see. So what's on your agenda for today?"
Squall looked at him like he had asked him something strange. "Why do you want to know?"
Zell replied. "Well, I just wanted to hang out with you for a little while."
"Hang...out," he asked, like he had never heard the saying. "Why would you want to do that?"
"I don't know. To see what you're always up to. You're always by yourself."
"I know. That's how I prefer it."
"Well, I don't like it."
"That's too bad."
"Why?"
Squall was now getting irritated by this barrage of inquiries and comments. His tone got a little more darker now. "Listen. I enjoy being by myself. And that's all you need to know." He was going to end the conversation now. "So why don't you just scurry on along and~~" Squall stopped his sentence dead in its tracks. His attention was now fixed on something else.
"What? What did I do," Zell asked him.
"...?" Squall was peering his head up and around Zell to look behind him.
"What?" Zell turned his head to see what was so interesting. At the furthermost table near the exit sat three people. On the left sat a muscular black man in a light blue vest and a dark blue baggy bottom. He was laughing belligerently and making crude comments. On the right sat a pale-looking female that also wore a light blue ensemble. She was listening to the man on the left crack jokes while she sharpened up the spiked tips of a large metal hoop with a pocket-sized knife. In the middle sat a taller man with very short sandy blonde hair, dark green eyes and a long trench coat. He wore a dark blue vest underneath and had his feet propped up on the table with his hands behind his head. As he sat that way, he stared directly at Squall.
"Them? Oh geez, not now," Zell muttered.
"..." Squall didn't acknowledge his comment.
All of a sudden the man in the long tan coat got up from his seat and walked gingerly toward where the duo were sitting. He got to their table, putting his hands on it and looming over them.
"Well well well, what do we have here," the man said with a sneer on his face. "If it isn't Captain Gunblade and his trusty sidekick Pansy-Boy!"
"..." Squall stared directly into his eyes with suppressed ire.
"Why don't you shut up and sit back down," Zell told him with force.
The man turned his attention to him. "Well that wouldn't be very fun now, would it?"
"What do you want anyway, Seifer?"
"The man named Seifer answered with a big grin. "This just doesn't involve kids, so maybe you should cover your ears."
"Screw you," he retorted.
"Mmm. Interesting concept." Zell looked away, obviously furious and not wanting to show it. Seifer turned his attention again to Squall and continued on. "Listen up and listen well. It's goin' down in the hidden spot in the Training Sector. Either Raijin or Fujin will be waiting for you so they can show you where it's happening at." Seifer got in close to him, enhancing his menacing presence even more. "After final period. Be there." He pulled out from near him, taking his hands off the table and heading to the door. Raijin and Fujin were following in tow right behind their leader. As he turned to walk out, he addressed the gunblade wielder one final time. His tone of voice was calm and cool, yet frightening.
"Please Squall. Don't disappoint me this time. And if you don't show up...I will come looking for you. And you honestly don't want me to come looking for you, because I'll be forced to cripple you."
The trio walked out, leaving a stunned and silent lunchroom in their wake. Squall and Zell had completely forgotten that the cafeteria was still relatively full. And they were even more shocked when they realized everyone was listening in on the little meeting the two swordsmen had.
"Damn...what does he mean 'it's goin' down'?" Zell turned to Squall, questioning what had happened. "Hey man! You two gonna have a little scrap or somethin'?"
"..." Squall remained silent, not acknowledging his presence.
"Hey! Squall! Snap out of it!" Zell grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. Squall countered by pushing his arms off of him.
"I heard you the first time!"
"Okay! Get a grip, man! Geez!"
"...I do have a grip."
"Yeah, sure. I believe you."
Squall picked up his tray of salad that was barely even eaten, got up and dumped it in the trash. He proceeded to walk out of the cafeteria, leaving the fighter behind. "Hey, Squall! Wait up! Wa--------it!" Zell took his tray that had one partially eaten hot dog on it and dumped it. "Squall! Come on," he yelled as he sprinted out of the cafeteria.