One of those highschool fics I guess you could say. It's really just a bunch of drabbles from different characters points of view. Just something I did on a whim. Enjoy? (Thanks to CrowHop77 for the title-- It's perfect!)

Seymours bit is influenced heavily by various other authors who I HIGHLY recommend, and shall give due credit at the end... And also by a few of my own opinions. glares at hallway morons


Seymour


He wonders what other people think about him. He insists he doesn't care, and that other peoples opinions will never change him, but Seymour still wonders what they say about him when they walk into class and he's always the first person there, or how he leans on the door before the bell rings and the teachers don't yell at him for it. He wonders why the teachers don't yell at him for it, and always supposes it must be because of his father. Let the boy do as he pleases. With a father so high in office, what can you do anyway?

Seymour wonders if they realize he runs to his next class because he can't stand the hallways. The swarming press of bodies as students and teachers try to find their next class, the meandering masses that drive him mad for their inability to simply move. He hates the girls in their tiny skirts and tanktops, mid-February, who sneak onto their cellphones and make out in the middle of the hall with boys with crewcuts who carry hairbrushes in the pockets of pants pulled only to mid-thigh. He'll never understand it, and it's only natural to hate what you don't understand. That's what he tells himself. It makes him feel a little better to hate them when he knows they despise the long-haired 'half-guado freak' in return.

But, he knows, he doesn't always wonder about angry people and hatred, and there are some little things to think about that give him a bit of happiness.

He wonders how many of the silky furred kittens purring in his lap are male or female. And he hopes the smallest, a sweet little white one he's positive is a little girl, will have the same pretty heterochromatic eyes-- one green, one blue-- as her mother did. Seymour wonders, sadly, if cats can remember their mothers when they're grown, and if these kittens would be sad to know their lovely mother had been hit by a car. But he knows that they won't have an opportunity to miss her, no-- They're to get new homes within the week, in order to gain his fathers agreement.

It was a terrible thing to do to his poor kittens, he knew, but if he didn't get rid of the two new litters, his father would never agree to let Elma stay with them. Elma. Seymour smiles and strokes the kittens, smiling more as they mewl and lazily bat at his gangly fingers. He is fond of Elma. She's the kind of girl who understands how much suffering there can be in the world... Elma is like him and his new kittens. None of them have a mother anymore... Though hearing the bitch(his step-mother) and the asshole(his father) speaking softly in another room reminds him that the others don't have anyone trying to replace Mother, either.

Seymour wonders if Elma is lucky or unlucky for that. He wonders what Elma thinks of the screaming matches she must hear walking by his home, on her way to meet him sneaking out the back.

Someone knocks on the door with the harsh, too-hard rap of a child, and he hears the door creak open. Seymour continues to stroke his soft, trusting, loving kittens, wonderful creatures, and flops onto his back, peering upside-down at the doorway. The youngest of his stepbrothers stands there, his blue-black hair recently cut and his grade-school uniform awry. Pacce looks happy to see him, as always. Pacce is like his kittens, in a way, innocent and trusting, and completely unaware of his anger and desire to set the mansion ablaze.

"Hey, Seymour?" he asked hesitantly, afraid only of garnering his step-fathers attention. Pacce was unaware of Seymours anger, but Jyscals shouting was impossible to miss. "You said you were gonna try and find owners for the new kittens, right?" Seymour nods in response, smiling thinly-- But Pacce see's only a smile on the usually dour face of his quiet step-brother, and speaks again, encouraged.

"Well, Taro and Hana came over today and I told them about it, so we called Hana's mom 'cause she said Hana could have a pet if she did good in school and she did REALLY good! Hana's mom is gonna be here soon to pick her up, and, well... She said Hana could take one of the kittens home with her. If that's ok, I mean..." Pacce fiddles with the door knob a little as he speaks, and Seymour can see Taro and the girl, Hana, half-hiding behind him. ...Seymour decides he likes the eager, loving eyes they watch his kittens with, and wonders which one the girl will take.

"...Come on in. There's two litters you can pick from, Hana, " he says, his voice deceptively smooth and inviting. He hates them, but Pacce is just as eager to invite stray cats in as he is, not to make Jyscal angry but to do a kind deed for an animal, and Hana will provide one more home for one of his kittens... So perhaps he hates them just a little bit less. Almost taller then them even when sitting, Seymour straightens up as the three of them pile in, Pacce carefully closing the door to avoid Jyscal walking by and seeing, and he observes them playing with his darling kittens.

But not the white one. He's careful to let them know the white one is off-limits, so they giggle and frolick and twitch the handmade toys for all the rest. It isn't long before Hana's mother arrives, and the three of them leave, Hana, her mother, and a sweet little calico with bottle-green eyes. Taro leaves soon after, pestering his own mother to allow him to get one of the kittens as they leave, and Pacce leaves him and his romping furrballs in peace. Again, Seymour wonders.

He wonders what Pacce and Taro, and Hana, charmed by the gift of her very own kitten, think of him. Taro fears him, he's sure. Pacce... Pacce amuses him. Maroda and Isaaru, the other tag-alongs, they're kind with their encouragement and eager to help their youngest brother. But Seymour... for all his harshness and almost unheard of praises, he notices Pacce will come first to him when he feels he has achieved something great.

Seymour wonders if Pacce finds greater accomplishment in trying to impress him. Seymour, who almost never smiled, never laughed, and never said a kind word to his real brothers. Seymour, who's mother was gone, and would take no substitute. It makes him smirk to think about it. But the white kitten in his arms mewls piteously, and the moment of disgust is broken by the necessity of feeding his loving, beautiful kittens.

After school the next day, Seymour wonders again. The white kitten is in his arms, beautiful against a dark gray vest and blood red sleeves, her fur washed and brushed and a little pink collar around her neck.

Seymour wonders what Yuna is thinking as he holds out the kitten to her, her bi-colored eyes so like the kittens dead mother, and gives her a crooked smile.

"For you."


That went alot longer then I thought.

CREDITS:

Seymours general highschool-ness and the entire thing with him and the cats is creditted to Silvie-chan's "All Screwed Up", an excellent read by an excellent author. (I recommend all her FFX works, really.) "Cat's Cradle" may have influenced it as well.

His friendship with Elma in this and later chapters is based off of the events in "Tilt", by Supremia. Also an excellent author. 3

General characterization is thanks to the two above authors and Yami no Eyes, as well as Master of Sorrow. Yami no Eyes has so many Seymour-centric fics it makes my head spin! She(he?) is a -truly- epic author. Master of Sorrow is my current fan-favorite and another epic author(who is still updating! Go show some support!).

Thank you all for the inspiration, and if you have any qualms about my refrence to your material, please let me know!