Another Time
by Corvus
As the song concluded, the gathered crowd cheered for one of
their own with as much fervor as they would have given a
professional. Whether they thought the singing was a gift from
Heaven or the croaking of a lovesick frog, someone had shown
enough courage to stand in front of them and perform, and that
was worth a rousing round of applause. Nobody was quite sure
when the custom had begun, but open-mic night at the Renaissance
Cafe was always like this.
Rinoa Heartilly slipped her thumb and forefinger between her lips
and let fly with a piercing whistle, the same call she used to
get the attention of her faithful canine companion, Angelo. It
cut through the clapping, banging of glasses and stomping of feet
like a sonic dagger, drawing a faint wince from Rinoa's
otherwise-expressionless companion.
She swiveled in her chair to look at the other woman at her
small round table. "That was great, don't you think?" The only
response was a kind of noncommittal grunt. (This isn't working,)
she thought. (She's just turned into...) Laughter bubbled up
from deep inside Rinoa, and she nudged her companion's arm.
(...Squall,) she finished. (Well, the way Squall used to be.
It's almost like they traded places when I wasn't looking.) "Oh,
come on." She'd sworn not to pry, that was the deal -- they'd
come to the Renaissance, and Rinoa wouldn't push to find out what
was wrong.
Of course, after three months, just about everyone wanted to know
what was bothering Quistis Trepe.
Outwardly cool -- actually, "cold" was the word being used to
describe Quistis now -- the Instructor felt like she was about to
explode. How could she explain this to anyone who mattered? She
certainly couldn't stand the thought of paying someone who didn't
know her to listen to her vent, and she didn't dare scream at the
walls, just in case those walls had ears. So she kept it all
inside... but it was feeding on itself, growing, reaching a
critical mass. And the only thing she could do was wonder.
(Why? Why did you leave?)
It was getting hard to concentrate on something as simple as a
lesson plan. Some small, walled-off, almost foreign part of her
mind was worried her recently reinstated Instructor license would
once again be revoked, this time permanently. That part of her
fretted constantly, but most of her barely cared anymore. It
just didn't seem worth it. There were others who could take her
place, but there was nothing that could take the place of--
"Oh, my turn," Rinoa bubbled when her name was called, breaking
into Quistis's thoughts. "Here I go!" The beautiful brunette
squeezed her friend's hand and rose from her chair to make her
way through the crowd to the stage and the microphone standing
solitary watch over its domain. Quistis watched her go, and
managed to muster something resembling a smile.
(She's come so far since then,) Quistis mused in an attempt to
turn her thoughts away for just one precious moment from... (And
she dragged the human being kicking and screaming out of the dark
cave of Squall Leonhart's brain. Damn, I wish I had her luck.)
Okay, this was getting out of hand. She had to do something to
get the pressure out of her heart before it killed her. But how?
Rinoa acknowledged the crowd's renewed enthusiasm with a grin and
a wave. They knew who she was. They knew she was the daughter
of Julia Heartilly, the greatest singer ever to come out of the
recently-redubbed Galbadia City. She didn't have her mother's
enchanting talent, but it didn't matter. She was a piece of
Julia, and they loved her for it. When the first notes of
Rinoa's chosen song played the cheering swelled even more for a
moment; she'd decided to perform her mother's greatest hit, just
for the heck of it. Finally the applause subsided, and she began
to sing.
Quistis barely heard. Finally she had a mission, a mission to
find some way to bare her soul, to tear off the veil over her
heart and bathe it in the light of day for just a few minutes, to
chase the shadow away. (Listen to you... You sound like you're
losing your mind,) she told herself. She could picture herself
in a courtroom, her own face on everyone there -- defendant,
attorney, judge, jury and audience. (Why yes, I am losing my
mind,) she replied to herself. (A part of me ran away without so
much as a goodbye. The best part of me. Wouldn't you go a
little crazy?)
Up on stage, Rinoa was doing her best to smile at everyone at
once. (Look at her. Not a care in the world. Could I be like
that some day? Could I...)
Maybe that was the answer. Up there, on stage, in front of
everyone, Rinoa was singing for the man she loved, even though
Squall was far away. Rinoa was pouring out her heart, exposing
her love to the world. Maybe there would be some kind of
catharsis up there.
Yes, that was it. Nobody would know who she was singing for, and
it didn't matter. She'd know. Bless Rinoa, the girl had brought
Quistis her answer on a silver tray, never knowing just how much
she'd done. A genuine smile finally reached Quistis's lips. It
would be like a riddle-game, and no one but Quistis Trepe would
know the answer. No... No one but Quistis and one other. The
only other one who mattered.
(Oh, now you're really off the deep end. Looking forward to
flaying your soul in front of a clueless crowd. Trepe, you're a
piece of work,) she told herself, and in reply to that accusation
all she could do was mentally shrug at that attorney with her
face. (Sometimes you have to tear down the walls, I guess.)
She rose from her seat and made her way to the attendant at the
karaoke machine beside the stage. She told him she wanted to
sing, wrote her name and a title on a small scrap of paper and
sealed her fate by handing it to the young man. He examined her
choice for a moment and chuckled. "Julia's real popular tonight.
Don't think we've ever had anybody do that song before, though."
"First time for everything," the willowy blonde told him. The
crowd erupted again as Rinoa finished with a flourish and blew
kisses. Rinoa saw Quistis standing next to the stage and walked
over to her.
"You're gonna do it?"
Quistis nodded. "I'm going to sing. One of your mother's songs.
You don't mind, do you?"
Rinoa beamed and hugged her friend's arm. "Of course not,
they'll eat it up. I knew you'd have a good time here."
"You were right," admitted Quistis. (You have no idea what's
happening, but that's okay. You've already done enough for me.)
"Thank you," she added. "Come on, let's go wait for my turn."
They returned to their tiny table in the middle of the room and
sat through a crazed cross between old-time vaudeville and modern
stand-up, then a spate of poetry carrying the angst of young,
wayward hearts. Rinoa applauded as loud as everyone else, but
she snuck exaggerated grimaces to Quistis every so often. The
kids had no idea how tough life could be. They'd never fought
Sorceresses from the future in a world outside time. Quistis
found herself able to laugh at the private joke; just setting her
feet on the path had loosened the icy grip of despair.
"Next we've got Quistis Trepe," the attendant was saying.
"Quistis Trepe?"
"Go for it, girl!" Rinoa encouraged. Quistis stuck her tongue
out, laughed and made her way to the stage. When she turned to
look at the expectant faces she felt a momentary twinge of
stagefright. (What am I doing up here?) But she remembered
something she'd heard once, she couldn't remember where, and
focused her eyes just above the crowd, letting the faces fade
into the room. There was no one else but her, now, and the fear
fell away.
"Hope you folks don't mind some more Julia Heartilly," she said.
From somewhere far off the crowd told her they didn't mind at
all. Quistis sighed softly and closed her eyes, reaching for the
bar across the gates of her soul. She gave a tug, and as the
music began, it all came tumbling out.
"The rain outside reminds me of your voice,
Like everything I hear since you're not there.
The distance doesn't leave me any choice
Then to meet you in a dream we still can share.
In my dream I see your smile,
But when I open up my eyes,
I can't see anyone.
Now that you have gone away
I wonder if we'll reach the day
When you realize that we belong."
By the time Quistis reached the first chorus Rinoa felt wetness
on her cheeks. She had no idea her friend's throaty contralto
could convey so much passion, so much pain. Was this the secret
Quistis had been hiding?
"I can't take it for granted,
I remember your smile.
I can't take it for granted,
'Cause I know our life is in line
For another day,
Or life in another time...
In another time."
Quistis couldn't stop if she wanted to, now. It was a raging
torrent, too-long confined, a melodic scream of anguish for a
loss too painful to comprehend. She launched into the next
chorus, clutching the microphone stand and gazing at the door as
if she could cast her words through it and onto the wind to reach
the one she needed so badly.
"The pressure and the fear it made you blind:
You thought you'd have to give some burden away.
But are you really sure if it's required?
Don't you want to find out another day?"
If there were spirits watching from beyond, if there was any
justice at all, then maybe, just maybe, that one would hear. She
was praying now, her words clutching at the sky to gain some
hold. There had to be something. That one just had to hear, it
was the only way the world would make any sense at all.
"In my dream I see your smile,
But when I open up my eyes,
I can't see anyone.
Now that you have gone away
I wonder if we'll reach the day
That you will realize that we belong."
She was the song, now. Everything in her being drove the words.
By sheer will she would make it happen. That one would hear.
"I can't take it for granted,
I remember your smile.
I can't take it for granted,
'Cause I know our life is in line
For another day,
Or life in another time...
In another time."
Once more, in a kind of apotheosis, she sang the chorus, certain
that her words had been heard. The shadow lifted from her,
revealing a burning light of love.
"I can't take it for granted,
I remember your smile.
I can't take it for granted,
'Cause I know our life is in line
For another day,
Or life in another time...
In another time."
And then, there was silence.
And then, the room exploded.
Rinoa was on her feet, shouting herself hoarse, clapping so hard
her hands were on fire, her face awash with tears. She didn't
know what had just happened, but it was wonderful. Quistis might
never say what was hurting her so much, but finally she'd found a
way to get it all out. There was a clue hanging in the air in
front of Rinoa, but she'd think about it later. Right now all
she felt was joy.
Quistis wiped her own eyes and smiled at the raving crowd.
(Damn... That felt good.) Rinoa was waving; she waved back and
winked. (I owe her a big one.) She stepped away from the
microphone, and something caught her eye.
There, by the door. Just a flash, then hidden again, and gone.
The door was closing.
Was it possible?
Quistis almost jumped getting off the stage and pushed her way
past people still clapping and cheering. It couldn't have
been... but it had to be. Rinoa began to speak as she
approached, but Quistis cut her off with a quick shake of her
head. "I'll be right back." She got to the door and flung it
open, hurrying into the night.
It was a typical Saturday night. The street was bustling, people
moving to and fro. It would be impossible to see in all this
mess. (No... dammit...) "Dammit!" she snarled. A hand lashed
out; she smacked the door in frustration and cursed again. A
couple walking past looked at her in startlement and hurried
their steps away from her. "Why?" she whispered. "Why?"
It had been her imagination, she decided. Riding the wave of
catharsis she had seen what she wanted the most. Just
imagination. (Did you really think it was...) the attorney
began.
But then she saw it again, across the street. In the open.
Standing there, staring at the door, staring at Quistis, like
some ghost.
"Fujin!"
Quistis bolted into the street, a madwoman daring traffic to
strike her. Horns blared, brakes squealed, but she ran on
unheeding. She made the opposite curb and stumbled to a halt
mere feet from the impossibility she had prayed for.
"Fujin... I..."
The albino young woman gazed at the Instructor with one crimson
eye, a world of confused emotion displayed there. What could she
say? Did she even have a right to be here, to try to explain?
How could she, anyway, when all she had were broken words
inadequate for the monumental task?
"Fujin, please, say something," Quistis pleaded. "Please."
"Listen," Fujin murmured. "Sing."
"I saw you, I saw you leaving." The blonde could barely control
herself, caught up again in that tidal wave. "I sang for you."
"Affirmative," Fujin agreed. "...explanation."
"I'll listen, I'll listen to anything, please just talk to me..."
Perhaps it was her desperation. Maybe it was the song. Somehow
Quistis knew the moment Fujin took her arm that the pale young
woman was reassured, that the words Quistis had said three months
ago weren't a lie. Three simple words. "Street, inappropriate,"
Fujin said simply, and the precise mundanity of that assessment
brought Quistis firmly back to the real world.
"Yeah, I guess you're right. I must look like a nutcase."
"Negative," Fujin told her firmly.
"Where do you want to go?"
Fujin cast about with her single eye, and settled on the place
they had both just left. "Inside."
"Rinoa's with me."
"Irrelevant."
There was no harshness in that single word, just confirmation.
They would talk, and the world be damned who was sitting there
listening. For a moment Quistis thought she would collapse from
the bewildering twists her heart was taking, but she drew
strength from the firm grip on her arm. "Okay. I... I'm glad
you're here."
"Glad," repeated Fujin. A pause, and then she upped the ante.
"Joy." She gave a tug on Quistis's arm, indicating that she
wanted to go inside now, but Quistis resisted.
"I just want to tell you something before we go," Quistis said.
Fujin's head tilted just a fraction; she was listening intently.
"I meant what I said. After the war, when everything was
settling down and you and Raijin came back to the Garden, I
thought it meant that everything would really be all right. Xu
told me what you talked about, how you forgave each other for
everything. I was so happy for both of you. When you and I got
to talking I was amazed by you. I was happier than I'd ever
been, those months we spent together. That night, when I finally
figured out what I was feeling, I thought I could fly. I found
in you something I thought I could never have. You fixed a break
in me I had been covering up for a long time. Dammit, Fujin, I
love you. I meant it then and I mean it now." (Oh please don't
let go please don't run away...)
Fujin was silent. Her expression never faltered, her grip never
eased. Footsteps and conversation, cars and busses in the
street, and then, "Love. Afraid."
"You were afraid of my love?"
Fujin shook her head and touched her own heart, then Quistis's.
"Love."
"You were afraid to love me."
"Affirmative." Fujin nodded, her silvery bangs drifting in front
of her face, hiding that ruby eye Quistis adored. She tapped
herself again. "Freak."
"No!" Quistis exploded in denial. "You aren't! How could you
say that?"
"Overheard."
"You sure as hell didn't hear me ever say that."
"Others."
Quistis was floored. How could anyone be so heartless? "Who?
Who said it? Was it Irvine? Zell?" Who the hell had betrayed
her trust?
"Cadets."
The sudden rage drained out of Quistis, leaving her knees weak.
Cadets. Children who hadn't learned better. But still, their
casual cruelty had driven away the one she loved. "Stupid kids.
They can't understand you, can't see what I see. Don't believe
them."
"Hurt."
"I know. I know what something like that can do. But I need
you. Let me protect you."
Fujin's face screwed up in barely-muffled mirth. But it wasn't
bitter laughter she was holding in. Her eye was bright, and she
squeezed Quistis's arm. "Backward."
"I'm not afraid of anything, especially with you standing next to
me."
"Strong." To illustrate her point, Fujin flexed one arm and
laughed.
"Yes, I know you are, and I promise I'll let you take first whack
at the monsters. But inside I know how gentle you really are.
Let me protect that."
Fujin considered this, then nodded. If she had held any doubts
about Quistis's feelings, any fear Quistis might turn her away,
it was gone now. "Forgive?"
"Of course I forgive you. How could I not? You're here, now,
and that's all I care about."
Salvation? Resurrection? Quistis wasn't sure what that song had
done, but she was convinced now that a benevolent spirit was
watching over her. There was one more blessing waiting, though.
Fujin released her arm and took her shoulders, looking directly
into her eyes. "Love."
"Are you sure?"
"Affirmative."
Any reply Quistis could have made was cut off as Fujin's lips
pressed firmly to hers. Rinoa was waiting, probably wondering
where Quistis had bolted to in her sudden madness, but who cared?
The kiss only broke after a full minute had passed.
Fujin pulled back reluctantly. "Rinoa."
"Yeah, yeah, okay. Her head will probably explode."
"Humorous."
"Messy," Quistis countered.
"Love."
"I love you too." Finally complete after all this time, she felt
ready to take on the world. She could definitely face Rinoa
Heartilly. She didn't know what the future would bring, but now
that her search was over, she could worry about that another
time.
-----------------------------------
Author's Notes:
Ah, pointless shoujo-ai WAFF written in one shot all because of a
song. Wonderful, isn't it?
Special thanks go to:
Dianna Silver and Chalaine for reading this emotional work and
giving twin thumbs-up.
Chendzeea-Li for introducing me to the glory of the "Quifu".
The song featured in this story is a real song, titled "Another
Time", performed by a European progressive band called Edguy.
All characters belong to Squaresoft. Comments are welcome at
kanelocke@hotmail.com where Quistis and Fujin will take great
glee in reading anything you have to say and hunting you down if
they aren't happy ^_~
by Corvus
As the song concluded, the gathered crowd cheered for one of
their own with as much fervor as they would have given a
professional. Whether they thought the singing was a gift from
Heaven or the croaking of a lovesick frog, someone had shown
enough courage to stand in front of them and perform, and that
was worth a rousing round of applause. Nobody was quite sure
when the custom had begun, but open-mic night at the Renaissance
Cafe was always like this.
Rinoa Heartilly slipped her thumb and forefinger between her lips
and let fly with a piercing whistle, the same call she used to
get the attention of her faithful canine companion, Angelo. It
cut through the clapping, banging of glasses and stomping of feet
like a sonic dagger, drawing a faint wince from Rinoa's
otherwise-expressionless companion.
She swiveled in her chair to look at the other woman at her
small round table. "That was great, don't you think?" The only
response was a kind of noncommittal grunt. (This isn't working,)
she thought. (She's just turned into...) Laughter bubbled up
from deep inside Rinoa, and she nudged her companion's arm.
(...Squall,) she finished. (Well, the way Squall used to be.
It's almost like they traded places when I wasn't looking.) "Oh,
come on." She'd sworn not to pry, that was the deal -- they'd
come to the Renaissance, and Rinoa wouldn't push to find out what
was wrong.
Of course, after three months, just about everyone wanted to know
what was bothering Quistis Trepe.
Outwardly cool -- actually, "cold" was the word being used to
describe Quistis now -- the Instructor felt like she was about to
explode. How could she explain this to anyone who mattered? She
certainly couldn't stand the thought of paying someone who didn't
know her to listen to her vent, and she didn't dare scream at the
walls, just in case those walls had ears. So she kept it all
inside... but it was feeding on itself, growing, reaching a
critical mass. And the only thing she could do was wonder.
(Why? Why did you leave?)
It was getting hard to concentrate on something as simple as a
lesson plan. Some small, walled-off, almost foreign part of her
mind was worried her recently reinstated Instructor license would
once again be revoked, this time permanently. That part of her
fretted constantly, but most of her barely cared anymore. It
just didn't seem worth it. There were others who could take her
place, but there was nothing that could take the place of--
"Oh, my turn," Rinoa bubbled when her name was called, breaking
into Quistis's thoughts. "Here I go!" The beautiful brunette
squeezed her friend's hand and rose from her chair to make her
way through the crowd to the stage and the microphone standing
solitary watch over its domain. Quistis watched her go, and
managed to muster something resembling a smile.
(She's come so far since then,) Quistis mused in an attempt to
turn her thoughts away for just one precious moment from... (And
she dragged the human being kicking and screaming out of the dark
cave of Squall Leonhart's brain. Damn, I wish I had her luck.)
Okay, this was getting out of hand. She had to do something to
get the pressure out of her heart before it killed her. But how?
Rinoa acknowledged the crowd's renewed enthusiasm with a grin and
a wave. They knew who she was. They knew she was the daughter
of Julia Heartilly, the greatest singer ever to come out of the
recently-redubbed Galbadia City. She didn't have her mother's
enchanting talent, but it didn't matter. She was a piece of
Julia, and they loved her for it. When the first notes of
Rinoa's chosen song played the cheering swelled even more for a
moment; she'd decided to perform her mother's greatest hit, just
for the heck of it. Finally the applause subsided, and she began
to sing.
Quistis barely heard. Finally she had a mission, a mission to
find some way to bare her soul, to tear off the veil over her
heart and bathe it in the light of day for just a few minutes, to
chase the shadow away. (Listen to you... You sound like you're
losing your mind,) she told herself. She could picture herself
in a courtroom, her own face on everyone there -- defendant,
attorney, judge, jury and audience. (Why yes, I am losing my
mind,) she replied to herself. (A part of me ran away without so
much as a goodbye. The best part of me. Wouldn't you go a
little crazy?)
Up on stage, Rinoa was doing her best to smile at everyone at
once. (Look at her. Not a care in the world. Could I be like
that some day? Could I...)
Maybe that was the answer. Up there, on stage, in front of
everyone, Rinoa was singing for the man she loved, even though
Squall was far away. Rinoa was pouring out her heart, exposing
her love to the world. Maybe there would be some kind of
catharsis up there.
Yes, that was it. Nobody would know who she was singing for, and
it didn't matter. She'd know. Bless Rinoa, the girl had brought
Quistis her answer on a silver tray, never knowing just how much
she'd done. A genuine smile finally reached Quistis's lips. It
would be like a riddle-game, and no one but Quistis Trepe would
know the answer. No... No one but Quistis and one other. The
only other one who mattered.
(Oh, now you're really off the deep end. Looking forward to
flaying your soul in front of a clueless crowd. Trepe, you're a
piece of work,) she told herself, and in reply to that accusation
all she could do was mentally shrug at that attorney with her
face. (Sometimes you have to tear down the walls, I guess.)
She rose from her seat and made her way to the attendant at the
karaoke machine beside the stage. She told him she wanted to
sing, wrote her name and a title on a small scrap of paper and
sealed her fate by handing it to the young man. He examined her
choice for a moment and chuckled. "Julia's real popular tonight.
Don't think we've ever had anybody do that song before, though."
"First time for everything," the willowy blonde told him. The
crowd erupted again as Rinoa finished with a flourish and blew
kisses. Rinoa saw Quistis standing next to the stage and walked
over to her.
"You're gonna do it?"
Quistis nodded. "I'm going to sing. One of your mother's songs.
You don't mind, do you?"
Rinoa beamed and hugged her friend's arm. "Of course not,
they'll eat it up. I knew you'd have a good time here."
"You were right," admitted Quistis. (You have no idea what's
happening, but that's okay. You've already done enough for me.)
"Thank you," she added. "Come on, let's go wait for my turn."
They returned to their tiny table in the middle of the room and
sat through a crazed cross between old-time vaudeville and modern
stand-up, then a spate of poetry carrying the angst of young,
wayward hearts. Rinoa applauded as loud as everyone else, but
she snuck exaggerated grimaces to Quistis every so often. The
kids had no idea how tough life could be. They'd never fought
Sorceresses from the future in a world outside time. Quistis
found herself able to laugh at the private joke; just setting her
feet on the path had loosened the icy grip of despair.
"Next we've got Quistis Trepe," the attendant was saying.
"Quistis Trepe?"
"Go for it, girl!" Rinoa encouraged. Quistis stuck her tongue
out, laughed and made her way to the stage. When she turned to
look at the expectant faces she felt a momentary twinge of
stagefright. (What am I doing up here?) But she remembered
something she'd heard once, she couldn't remember where, and
focused her eyes just above the crowd, letting the faces fade
into the room. There was no one else but her, now, and the fear
fell away.
"Hope you folks don't mind some more Julia Heartilly," she said.
From somewhere far off the crowd told her they didn't mind at
all. Quistis sighed softly and closed her eyes, reaching for the
bar across the gates of her soul. She gave a tug, and as the
music began, it all came tumbling out.
"The rain outside reminds me of your voice,
Like everything I hear since you're not there.
The distance doesn't leave me any choice
Then to meet you in a dream we still can share.
In my dream I see your smile,
But when I open up my eyes,
I can't see anyone.
Now that you have gone away
I wonder if we'll reach the day
When you realize that we belong."
By the time Quistis reached the first chorus Rinoa felt wetness
on her cheeks. She had no idea her friend's throaty contralto
could convey so much passion, so much pain. Was this the secret
Quistis had been hiding?
"I can't take it for granted,
I remember your smile.
I can't take it for granted,
'Cause I know our life is in line
For another day,
Or life in another time...
In another time."
Quistis couldn't stop if she wanted to, now. It was a raging
torrent, too-long confined, a melodic scream of anguish for a
loss too painful to comprehend. She launched into the next
chorus, clutching the microphone stand and gazing at the door as
if she could cast her words through it and onto the wind to reach
the one she needed so badly.
"The pressure and the fear it made you blind:
You thought you'd have to give some burden away.
But are you really sure if it's required?
Don't you want to find out another day?"
If there were spirits watching from beyond, if there was any
justice at all, then maybe, just maybe, that one would hear. She
was praying now, her words clutching at the sky to gain some
hold. There had to be something. That one just had to hear, it
was the only way the world would make any sense at all.
"In my dream I see your smile,
But when I open up my eyes,
I can't see anyone.
Now that you have gone away
I wonder if we'll reach the day
That you will realize that we belong."
She was the song, now. Everything in her being drove the words.
By sheer will she would make it happen. That one would hear.
"I can't take it for granted,
I remember your smile.
I can't take it for granted,
'Cause I know our life is in line
For another day,
Or life in another time...
In another time."
Once more, in a kind of apotheosis, she sang the chorus, certain
that her words had been heard. The shadow lifted from her,
revealing a burning light of love.
"I can't take it for granted,
I remember your smile.
I can't take it for granted,
'Cause I know our life is in line
For another day,
Or life in another time...
In another time."
And then, there was silence.
And then, the room exploded.
Rinoa was on her feet, shouting herself hoarse, clapping so hard
her hands were on fire, her face awash with tears. She didn't
know what had just happened, but it was wonderful. Quistis might
never say what was hurting her so much, but finally she'd found a
way to get it all out. There was a clue hanging in the air in
front of Rinoa, but she'd think about it later. Right now all
she felt was joy.
Quistis wiped her own eyes and smiled at the raving crowd.
(Damn... That felt good.) Rinoa was waving; she waved back and
winked. (I owe her a big one.) She stepped away from the
microphone, and something caught her eye.
There, by the door. Just a flash, then hidden again, and gone.
The door was closing.
Was it possible?
Quistis almost jumped getting off the stage and pushed her way
past people still clapping and cheering. It couldn't have
been... but it had to be. Rinoa began to speak as she
approached, but Quistis cut her off with a quick shake of her
head. "I'll be right back." She got to the door and flung it
open, hurrying into the night.
It was a typical Saturday night. The street was bustling, people
moving to and fro. It would be impossible to see in all this
mess. (No... dammit...) "Dammit!" she snarled. A hand lashed
out; she smacked the door in frustration and cursed again. A
couple walking past looked at her in startlement and hurried
their steps away from her. "Why?" she whispered. "Why?"
It had been her imagination, she decided. Riding the wave of
catharsis she had seen what she wanted the most. Just
imagination. (Did you really think it was...) the attorney
began.
But then she saw it again, across the street. In the open.
Standing there, staring at the door, staring at Quistis, like
some ghost.
"Fujin!"
Quistis bolted into the street, a madwoman daring traffic to
strike her. Horns blared, brakes squealed, but she ran on
unheeding. She made the opposite curb and stumbled to a halt
mere feet from the impossibility she had prayed for.
"Fujin... I..."
The albino young woman gazed at the Instructor with one crimson
eye, a world of confused emotion displayed there. What could she
say? Did she even have a right to be here, to try to explain?
How could she, anyway, when all she had were broken words
inadequate for the monumental task?
"Fujin, please, say something," Quistis pleaded. "Please."
"Listen," Fujin murmured. "Sing."
"I saw you, I saw you leaving." The blonde could barely control
herself, caught up again in that tidal wave. "I sang for you."
"Affirmative," Fujin agreed. "...explanation."
"I'll listen, I'll listen to anything, please just talk to me..."
Perhaps it was her desperation. Maybe it was the song. Somehow
Quistis knew the moment Fujin took her arm that the pale young
woman was reassured, that the words Quistis had said three months
ago weren't a lie. Three simple words. "Street, inappropriate,"
Fujin said simply, and the precise mundanity of that assessment
brought Quistis firmly back to the real world.
"Yeah, I guess you're right. I must look like a nutcase."
"Negative," Fujin told her firmly.
"Where do you want to go?"
Fujin cast about with her single eye, and settled on the place
they had both just left. "Inside."
"Rinoa's with me."
"Irrelevant."
There was no harshness in that single word, just confirmation.
They would talk, and the world be damned who was sitting there
listening. For a moment Quistis thought she would collapse from
the bewildering twists her heart was taking, but she drew
strength from the firm grip on her arm. "Okay. I... I'm glad
you're here."
"Glad," repeated Fujin. A pause, and then she upped the ante.
"Joy." She gave a tug on Quistis's arm, indicating that she
wanted to go inside now, but Quistis resisted.
"I just want to tell you something before we go," Quistis said.
Fujin's head tilted just a fraction; she was listening intently.
"I meant what I said. After the war, when everything was
settling down and you and Raijin came back to the Garden, I
thought it meant that everything would really be all right. Xu
told me what you talked about, how you forgave each other for
everything. I was so happy for both of you. When you and I got
to talking I was amazed by you. I was happier than I'd ever
been, those months we spent together. That night, when I finally
figured out what I was feeling, I thought I could fly. I found
in you something I thought I could never have. You fixed a break
in me I had been covering up for a long time. Dammit, Fujin, I
love you. I meant it then and I mean it now." (Oh please don't
let go please don't run away...)
Fujin was silent. Her expression never faltered, her grip never
eased. Footsteps and conversation, cars and busses in the
street, and then, "Love. Afraid."
"You were afraid of my love?"
Fujin shook her head and touched her own heart, then Quistis's.
"Love."
"You were afraid to love me."
"Affirmative." Fujin nodded, her silvery bangs drifting in front
of her face, hiding that ruby eye Quistis adored. She tapped
herself again. "Freak."
"No!" Quistis exploded in denial. "You aren't! How could you
say that?"
"Overheard."
"You sure as hell didn't hear me ever say that."
"Others."
Quistis was floored. How could anyone be so heartless? "Who?
Who said it? Was it Irvine? Zell?" Who the hell had betrayed
her trust?
"Cadets."
The sudden rage drained out of Quistis, leaving her knees weak.
Cadets. Children who hadn't learned better. But still, their
casual cruelty had driven away the one she loved. "Stupid kids.
They can't understand you, can't see what I see. Don't believe
them."
"Hurt."
"I know. I know what something like that can do. But I need
you. Let me protect you."
Fujin's face screwed up in barely-muffled mirth. But it wasn't
bitter laughter she was holding in. Her eye was bright, and she
squeezed Quistis's arm. "Backward."
"I'm not afraid of anything, especially with you standing next to
me."
"Strong." To illustrate her point, Fujin flexed one arm and
laughed.
"Yes, I know you are, and I promise I'll let you take first whack
at the monsters. But inside I know how gentle you really are.
Let me protect that."
Fujin considered this, then nodded. If she had held any doubts
about Quistis's feelings, any fear Quistis might turn her away,
it was gone now. "Forgive?"
"Of course I forgive you. How could I not? You're here, now,
and that's all I care about."
Salvation? Resurrection? Quistis wasn't sure what that song had
done, but she was convinced now that a benevolent spirit was
watching over her. There was one more blessing waiting, though.
Fujin released her arm and took her shoulders, looking directly
into her eyes. "Love."
"Are you sure?"
"Affirmative."
Any reply Quistis could have made was cut off as Fujin's lips
pressed firmly to hers. Rinoa was waiting, probably wondering
where Quistis had bolted to in her sudden madness, but who cared?
The kiss only broke after a full minute had passed.
Fujin pulled back reluctantly. "Rinoa."
"Yeah, yeah, okay. Her head will probably explode."
"Humorous."
"Messy," Quistis countered.
"Love."
"I love you too." Finally complete after all this time, she felt
ready to take on the world. She could definitely face Rinoa
Heartilly. She didn't know what the future would bring, but now
that her search was over, she could worry about that another
time.
-----------------------------------
Author's Notes:
Ah, pointless shoujo-ai WAFF written in one shot all because of a
song. Wonderful, isn't it?
Special thanks go to:
Dianna Silver and Chalaine for reading this emotional work and
giving twin thumbs-up.
Chendzeea-Li for introducing me to the glory of the "Quifu".
The song featured in this story is a real song, titled "Another
Time", performed by a European progressive band called Edguy.
All characters belong to Squaresoft. Comments are welcome at
kanelocke@hotmail.com where Quistis and Fujin will take great
glee in reading anything you have to say and hunting you down if
they aren't happy ^_~
