**Written in just a few hours for the 2018 Successor Challenge. My goal is to force more people to love reading and writing Posse stories because clearly I am obsessed. Thanks for reading!**

Lead

"How many?" The question was whispered with a lilt of anxiousness, and the unfamiliarity of trepidation falling from his lips broke her concentration. She looked back over her shoulder at him; her eye narrowing as she grimaced at the hand that shot out to grip her shoulder, unannounced, and inspected his face.

"MAYBE FOUR. BASIC INFANTRY … A PROBLEM?" She whispered a query back, her gaze darting from his face to his white-knuckled grip on Hyperion, and then to his eyes again as she asked another question with her silence.

"Why let on that we're here? Let's just … see if they pass," his hand slid down her arm to her wrist and he tugged her behind him, his body gliding over hers as they hugged the wall. "I'll take the front." Seifer did it to prove a point, but she saw the truth in his twitching fingers that held their grip on her wrist just a few moments too long.

The number wasn't the problem. Fujin could take on four Galbadian infantrymen with her hands tied behind her back, and with the three of them—especially with Seifer and Hyperion—clearing a group like this would take but a fraction of a minute. Still, because the number wasn't the problem, and because it was the Posse's natural order of things, she stayed behind him and obeyed.

Raijin tapped her on the shoulder and craned his neck to verify the count, though he was too far back to see. His broad shoulders rose in a questioning shrug to imply he didn't get what the big deal was. Four, his eyes read, and his face contorted into a look of confusion. She waved him off, and he rolled his eyes and pressed his shoulders back against the wall, petulant about being left out of the loop and not seeing even a little combat action as daylight receded.

Seifer didn't hide things from Fujin, and so it wasn't a secret between the two of them that he hesitated now. She didn't know how to deal with it at first, because Fujin always pictured him as someone who'd live a little more recklessly after losing everything. It was hard to anticipate the needs of this unexpectedly raw-nerved Seifer. He was warier in battle now, and quieter and more distant in conversation. As if his brief stint as a failed sorceress' knight didn't come with consequences enough, it snuffed that spark of his to nothing but a smolder.

Raijin fidgeted beside her, the movement disturbing a few pebbles and eliciting a chalky rustle. The mistake earned him a scowl from Seifer, delivered slowly as his head twisted in a full motion like an owl. If they were discovered and had to kill those four men, Raijin would be lucky to not be the fifth.

It was fifteen minutes before the voices drew close, passed, and receded into the coming twilight. Seifer's shoulders eased when he determined they were far enough away, and he pressed his elbow into her rib. She nodded to Raijin, who hefted and distributed what little they were carrying among themselves to set up camp.

"They might've had something good on 'em, ya know?" Raijin pressed the topic, as they trekked away from the stone cottage towards the coast. Seifer broke with them and quickened his pace. "Why didn't we just take 'em down?"

"STOP." Fujin defended the defenseless decision as best she could by demanding his silence, and shoved their friend along an overgrown path to the shore. "MAKING IT WORSE."

"Fine. But he's being …." Raijin started to grumble, but Fujin's quirked eyebrow warned him that an insult would be punished with a kicked shin, and he thought better of it. "We're gonna have to do something different sooner or later here."

Fujin didn't disagree entirely, but since there were no acceptable alternatives she couldn't lend Raijin's complaint much merit either. Of course they couldn't run forever. Of course they would make a mistake if they kept moving like this. Of course Squall would find them, eventually, if they didn't come up with a plan soon. She was thankful Raijin wasn't thinking that far ahead yet; he was just thinking about their next meal.

When they caught up with Seifer, he'd selected their shelter for the evening—a sandy beach at the base of a bluff, which would at least offer a softer place to sleep than the hard ground they'd become accustomed to. He was crouched in the sand to take an inventory of supplies and didn't speak when they approached. None of them bothered with small-talk; Raijin set their things down and stalked off to hunt for dinner (grumbling as he walked away about how he would've literally killed for Galbadian rations), and Fujin worked to gather a few small stones and build a ring for a fire. As she walked away to gather driftwood to burn, Seifer called out to her.

"There's plenty right here for tonight." He gestured at a few small logs to his right with a jerk of his head. "Let's get this going."

Thankfully they'd picked a southward escape route; the warmer climate made living on the run a little more tolerable. Seifer liked to keep the fires small now, anyway, and gathering enough wood to stay warm through the night wasn't a concern, only a habit. Fujin nodded in agreement and returned to collect the bits of driftwood in her arms before settling down beside him.

"Raijin's pissed, huh?" He asked as he helped her layer her dried grass and bits of paper in the pit and moved to pull a flint from his pocket.

"HUNGRY. TIRED. HOW HE GETS. IRRATIONAL." Seifer hit the flint on the stone a few times and struck a spark. He created a cave around the ember with his hands, and Fujin bent low over his arm to breathe the spark to life. He pulled his hands away as the flame grew bigger. "DOESN'T MEAN IT."

"And you don't mean that," Seifer countered in a snap, and rested his elbows on his knees as he ground the heels of his boots into the sand.

She leaned past him to place another stick on the fire and didn't correct him. It was true that there were resentments left between the three of them after the war ended, with Raijin left feeling particularly salty; his love for Seifer had always ran more shallow than Fujin's, but that was to be expected, considering.

"We could've stayed in Winhill," she suggested, opting to go with her natural voice since they were truth-telling. "Nobody seemed to recognize us."

"Fuck, that's just another type of prison," he chuckled and pressed his forehead to his hand. "All the shit I did, and they didn't even recognize me. If that isn't irony …" The laugh morphed to a sigh. "No, I couldn't have stayed in Winhill. I'm not sure I can stay anywhere."

"We can't …" She hesitated, still unsure of her footing with him now and if she could have an opinion, like she did before the war. "We can't run forever. You could use some rest."

"Rest isn't going to fix it." He disagreed, the light of the fire scattering shadows across his face as the sky grew darker. "You shouldn't hitch your wagon to a dying star, Fuu. You should go back to Garden. Leonhart's a boy scout; he'll take you back if you shed a tear or two."

"You don't mean that. Look, Raijin's fine, he's—"

"It's not that," Seifer laced his fingers together, and rested his chin on his hands as he stole a stern sideways glance at her. Fujin pretended she didn't notice in hopes the conversation would dissipate and returned to tending the fire.

"I'm worried every fucking day for you two," the words emerged abruptly with that raw-edged tone that made her chest ache with despair for him. "All you did was give, and give, and give, and here I am still taking. The only thing that could possibly make up for it is keeping you both safe through this, but I can't even raise my gunblade. I'm a fucking mess and a fucking failure, and I'm gonna get you killed."

Seifer stared at her, surprised at himself for finally saying it: he couldn't keep them safe anymore, couldn't lead them, and worst of all they didn't need him to. He was their burden now, and it was ripping him apart. These past few months, Fujin just figured he'd had his cage rattled and would snap out of it. If only he'd have a few successful fights, a little bit of rest, and—though she'd hate every minute of it—maybe a girl or two to keep him warm and boost his ego … a girl from some small town who'd never seen a picture of Seifer Almasy, the sorceress' knight.

"Don't say that. You're just—" She placed a hand on his arm, forgetting that the sorceress had left him with an aversion to unsuspecting touch. He ripped himself free as the rawness morphed to a shout.

"Just shut up Fujin! For once in your life just stop fucking defending me … it's pathetic."

She sat slack-jawed and wounded by the outburst, and Seifer let out an exasperated huff through his nose. She leaned away from him, a futile reaction to pull herself out of that orbit of his that kept her tethered to him so, all these years they'd known each other.

"Pathetic?" She asked, though she didn't want a response. "So that's what you think, after all of this." She took in the view of the beach and the canopy of stars, and for the first time since they departed on this leg of their journey together, her chest ached with the sinking feeling of desolation.

A protest rose in his throat, but he swallowed it down to avoid complicating the conversation when their bronze friend reappeared with a fresh catch. Seifer accepted the fish from Raijin, sliced it and cleaned it, and Fujin took the fillets from his palm and draped them over the fire. The Posse followed their natural order of things as if nothing had happened, but Seifer's eyes kept careful watch of his own feet.

It didn't take Raijin long to forget his grievances once his belly was full. He burrowed into the bed of sand, and contentedly reminisced about the biggest fish he caught from the Balamb docks when they were kids. Fujin and Seifer murmured every so often at his recollection as they followed suit and made beds of their own, but not before Seifer doused the fire with shameful handfuls of sand so the burning embers wouldn't attract those wandering Galbadian soldiers.

As the night grew darker Raijin's storytelling transitioned to a light snore. On the far side of the fire Seifer struggled for sleep as he sought a more comfortable angle. Fujin, for her part, laid on her side—her back to them both as tears stung her eyes. She banished them with the back of her hand quickly and settled into the sand as she tried to let the roaring ocean lull her to sleep. The seaward wind gave her a chill, and she pulled the collar of her threadbare blue coat up around her ears to stave off the cold.

She wondered why the fuck she didn't just go back to Garden, if that's how he read their charity. With everything she gave up to follow him, and all her good dreaming years wasted because she'd hitched her wagon to a 'dying star.' Maybe she was pathetic for not seeing the signs sooner. Maybe she should've noticed that he was burning out back at Garden, when he failed his SeeD exams time and time again and blamed everyone else for it.

She supposed … it did sound pathetic, when listing all the wrongdoings out of context like that.

The abrupt scent of cinder and leather, followed by the weight of a white coat, stopped her from her spiraling self-loathing. Her back straightened as Seifer quietly settled down behind her.

"Sorry about the fire. I know it's cold tonight." He nudged against her and rubbed her forearm with a warm hand, before snagging her waist and tugging himself closer. "And about what I said. You know I don't think that of you."

"Sometimes, I'm not sure." She hedged and tilted away from him to steel herself against his apology, but his arm was strong, and he rolled her to her back so that she had to face him.

"I think the world of you," He insisted as he brought a golden hand to her cheek to wipe away remnants of sand caught in a salty tear. "You know that." Her heart raced, but she wasn't a stranger to Seifer's hands; they'd run over her skin countless times now and couldn't arrest her in the way they used to when she was young and needed so much more of him. Back then, she'd made the mistake of allowing her heart to stop when he got this close. But they'd struggled through his on again and off again affections for enough years now; he'd broken her into a thousand pieces a thousand times, and she was immune to withering at his soft touch.

"You can understand how I'd be confused." Fujin replied flatly, changing the subject.

"You know I'm just being a dick. You know I'm having a hard time." His thumb stroked her cheek as he continued his awkward apology and allowed the vague sentence to encompass the wave of uncertainty that had crashed over him in the wake of Ultimecia's defeat. "I don't know how to exist in a world where I'm nothing but a failure."

"You're so much more than that," she insisted without hesitation. "Just because we're stronger doesn't mean we don't need you. And just because you need us now doesn't make you weak." He nodded in acceptance of her edict and newfound agency and pressed his forehead to hers.

"Let's get some sleep. Talk about where to call home in the morning." She floated the idea and cupped his face in her hand. He leaned into it with another nod, and she guided his lips to hers for a quick kiss.

"I'll try hunting tomorrow," he coalesced with the promise of trying again, sparked by her grace. "And we can start keeping a fire through the night, so you don't freeze." She kissed him once again, in deep agreement, before rolling back to her side.

"Fuu," Seifer whispered after a few quiet moments and pulled her snugly against him. She murmured in response, her eyes drawing to a half-lidded close as his warmth brought her comfort. "Thanks … for taking the lead for a while."