- Author: Slim Summers
- Series: FF8 AU
- Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII and all its characters belong to Square.
- Title: What if Seifer Almasy did not go to garden?
- Note: This is my first posted fic, no definite pairings yet but I like Quistis/Seifer. This is a Seifer fic mainly but I just cannot focus on Seifer without giving Squall some time like here because too me they go together not in a Yaoi way but rather like a mirror image. Whatever happens to one will affect the other in some way. This is the apparent prologue but as this is my first fic I will probably be reediting it every which way in bouts of nervous terror. So chapters may switch about (especially this one not to sure of it being a prologue yet.) Also Seifer is not expected until 2nd Chapter. Also I would like to say that the inspiration for this came after reading a "What if....? Final Fantasy 8" fic by Malice Shaw. The story is my own though. This is what I believe would happen if Seifer never went to Garden. Shutting up now.
In the Balamb Garden training ground a solemn young man went through a rigorous series of exercises, swinging his heavy gunblade with two grasped firmly on it's grip showing a remarkable combination of speed, power, control and technique. Upon reaching the end of the exercise, the youth paused and narrowed his eyes in concentration, suddenly in a startling burst of speed he ran forward and began attacking an imaginary foe, repeatedly squeezing the revolver's trigger, bullets firing every which way. The attack ended with the youth back where he started. A small pause, 'This time it will work' he charged ahead his gunblade held in his right hand, angled down, his left stretched horizontally straight palm up in a seemingly warding gesture. He came within range of his imaginary foe and began swinging his gun revolver in an upwards slice and saw it almost fly from his hand, pulling him off balance and making him stumble and fall on his face.
The youth did not stay down for more then a second. He got up quickly and began examining his scratches he had acquired from his fall. Most people would have cursed at this point; this youth just frowned and began mentally reviewing his actions up till his fall. There was no way that he could use the gunblade with just one hand. Whether it was strength, leverage, height, weight or just a combination of all four he just did not have enough. The instructors had told him that all gunblades especially the revolver series required two hands. The Renzokuken technique which had been developed for the revolver series demanded two hands. Why then had he just tried to use the revolver with one hand? Frustration, the youth nodded to himself. He was frustrated with the technique. He kept feeling like the finishing strikes were incomplete. His limit break was those finishing strikes and they were incomplete.
The Renzokuken (Sequential Blade) style stressed speed, accuracy and multiple attacks in sequence. The finishing strikes were really a series of attacks if done properly were unblockable and unavoidable. If you blocked the first you were out of position to block the second to hit, hoping to parry the third, the hit itself would prevent you from bringing your weapon about to stop the next strike. Of course all this depended on you being fast and accurate. The youth's limit break simply gave him the ability to perform those strikes with impossible speed and power yet no matter how hard and fast he made those finishing strikes he still felt an incredible surge of power after he had no idea how to use. He needed to find a way to use that power. His musing was suddenly interrupted by the feeling of his back being hit by a truck, followed by the sensation of flying forward to land on his face once more.
The young man turned around quickly, only to begin scrambling to avoid the gastric juice the second grat had thrown at him. The youth was only partially successful. The back of his left leg was caught just below the knee by the juice. An expression of pain came over the youth's features as he turned to face his opponents. He began to frown as he assessed the situation. Two grats were opposite him, both fairly powerful if the strength of the gastric juice was to go by. He had no Guardian Forces junctioned and thus no spells. He was already tired from his workout and now could not run away due to the pain in his leg. He ducked a strike from one and quickly circled the two until one was directly behind the other. As long as he did this one grat would not be able to attack him. Feinting to the left as if he was going to continue circling the youth instead charged forward and attacked, squeezing the trigger at just the right time.
Sometime later the youth limped out of the training area utterly exhausted, his clothes torn, his leg bleeding profusely and with at least one broken rib. He began walking to the infirmary amid the stares of quite a few residents of Garden. A few walked towards him as if to help but an icy stare from the youth made them pause and disregard that notion. They knew who this youth was and they knew his reputation. This young man wanted no ones help. To his credit, he made it halfway to his destination before the youth known as Squall Leonhart the top cadet and ice man of Balamb Garden collapsed.