Succession

by Taraph

A year or two after Ultimecia's defeat, Squall and Rinoa are living together on the Winhill Bluff, where they received an unexpected visiter, Irvine, who is clearly troubled. Soon both Squall and Irvine have difficult decisions to make.

Succession

It all begins so subtly, you never realise there's any danger and then it builds and builds and before you know it you're reacting to it, whether you understand what's going on or not. It's a continuous slide and eventually you've got to get it under control or you lose. Lose life, lose love, lose hope, it's all the same and it all means the same to you in that moment, the only indivisible truth in a mind fractured by chaos. Finally you have to take action, one spectacular event that brings the whole thing to a conclusion. The crowd applauds, rose petals rain down upon you and the curtain closes.

But that's when the work begins. You see falling in love is one thing. Actually holding onto a relationship is another. It requires a conscious effort every day. You've got to pay attention to the little things, get over the niggling doubts and annoyances of your partner and be able to understand that they have to do the same for you. Love, once you've found it, needs constant nurture.

And it's the same with saving the world. You can defeat the big bad, but even after that people will still do stupid things, war will break out over territory or resources or just plain politics, murders will still happen in the alleyways of cities and the attics of village homes, there's still crime, there's still greed and ambition and there's still that mindless uncontrollable passion that is the human soul. There will always be another evil, and there will always be new endings and new beginnings. Lovers will still fight, make up and break up…

The day Irvine turned up on our door; I knew something was wrong immediately. His usual, sly charm seemed to have melted out of him and his eyes, usually lit with confidence and mischief seemed dull and watery. For a second, I thought I could see him again as he was that night in Deling, hunched over his rifle, unable to take the pressure of his duty, his self esteem in shards.

"Irvine!" I said, trying to sound more optimistic than I felt, "What on earth are you doing here?"

He tilted his head - sadly, I would have said - and looked as if he was thinking of an excuse, then he smiled weakly and replied, "I just felt like a change of scenery, wanted to see how the other half lived." The Kinneas wit was still there, but it was obscured behind a veil of misery. I wanted to break the pretence, to ask him what was wrong and offer my help, but old habits die hard, regardless of what changes you've had to face and so instead I gave him a big smile, stepped aside and in a wide, open gesture, welcomed him in.

As I closed the door and followed him in I could see he was taking in the little details of the room. It was warm from an open fire and decorated in a rustic style, which he seemed quite taken by. He paused by the mantelpiece, apparently admiring a photograph of the entire group, taken that night in the Garden. I could tell it was bringing back memories for him, and from the tension in his shoulders and the way he held himself, that didn't seem to be a good thing.

"Can I offer you a drink of something?"

He seemed stunned for a second, then turned around and, still smiling weakly, asked what we had.

I left him sitting at the sturdy wooden table as I slipped into the kitchen to fetch him a beer. When I came back he was stretching back in his chair, looking relaxed and at home, exactly how I would have expected him to be. If only I could have believed it.

"Sooo!" he said, catching me with a convincing grin. "How is life these days with you and the little lady?"

"You know she'd kill you if she heard you call her that."

"I like to live dangerously, especially with women. But, seriously, how's it going?"

"It's good. We're still getting used to living together I think…"

"I'm sensing there's more?"

"And I think sometimes I get too introverted for her. She hates it when I bottle things up – we've had a couple of arguments."

"But you get through them, right? And I bet the making up is worth it afterwards."

I couldn't suppress a smile, but the way he was asking; it made me uncomfortable. Even now, I still hate talking about how I feel and this was cutting pretty close to my boundaries. Besides, I could tell Irvine was skirting one or two of his own. We were walking at the edge of deep waters; he wanted us to fall in, I think, I just wanted to get to higher ground, so I started to divert the conversation.

"Actually I was planning on heading out of the village, maybe do a little hunting."

"You still swinging that sword? You're not a SeeD anymore, you know?"

"I know, but I still enjoy the exercise… and the release. So, would you like to join me?"

He stood up, then, and reached down to his gun, his eyes lighting up a little as he did so.

"You're not a SeeD either, Irvine."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…"

The Winhill bluffs were always good for practice. I often went out in the evening for some time alone. The wind rushing along the flat land spoke of a freedom I simply never had internally. Not that I felt trapped with Rinoa, far from it, she was as close as I could ever get to the kind of freedom the wind promised, but she was, after all, only human, and sometimes I needed something more. When the arguments were at their worst, when all the hurtful things had been said, I sought the plains and the release that came from the edge of a GunBlade.

I had lied to Irvine, of course. I had never been planning to do any sword practice that afternoon. I had been quite content to stay in and mull a few things over. There were decisions that needed to be made, some of them quite difficult, and I was taking advantage of Rinoa's occasional absences to work my way through them.

Irvine casually asked where Rinoa was as we walked through the village and out towards the bluffs.

"She had to head up to Deling this week."

"She's becoming quite a figurehead for the city, isn't she?"

"Well, she's a celebrity there and they love her. Her visits help people take their minds off the past."

"But you'd rather she stayed here, with you, right?"

I hesitated, unsure how to say what it was that I felt, knowing it would always be more complicated than it would sound in explanation.

"No, not really. I mean, I miss her, sure, but… Well I know they need her up there, and I get to have her with me ninety percent of the time. Sometimes it's good just to have a little space."

"Space…" Irvine replied, gazing off at the un-approaching horizon, as if he was testing the concept out for himself.

We walked quite some distance, until the village of Winhill was just a hint of rooftops beyond the low rolling hills. The wind was gently brushing through the canopy of the trees we passed and running its fingers through the long grass.

"I can see why you like living here." Irvine said eventually. "It's quiet, open…"

"Sometimes I miss the sea; Balamb, the Garden, the lighthouse."

"Those were the days. Do you remember running along the beach, letting the waves catch you by the ankles?"

"Actually I remember the rain better."

"Do you think we'll ever forget those days again?"

"I'm more worried about forgetting more recent events. What if the world forgets what happened?"

"Some things are too big to forget."

I stopped and turned, bursting into uncomfortable hysterics. Irvine stared at me with concern. I'm not sure if he thought I'd gone mad, or that maybe I knew something he didn't. All I could think of was just how much history had been forgotten already. Who knew about Centra before Lunatic Pandora? Who remembered Esthar when they slipped into seclusion?

I didn't get to tell Irvine these things, though. My own laughter was joined by a chorus of other voices - some laughing, some shouting - which surrounded us and drew nearer. I did my best to regain control of myself and then drew my GunBlade. Irvine was already taking aim.

The belhemels were circling us, blocking out our view of the bluffs with their strange, shield-like forms, their blades spinning wildly and their faces constantly switching around from angry to happy. Then suddenly one of them came darting into the circle, side on so that its spinning blades rushed past me, narrowly avoiding slicing through my arm.

Irvine spun on the spot, took aim and fired, catching it just as it rejoined to circle and sending it clattering to the ground with a smoking hole. I took action next, sweeping low with the blade and then slicing up through one of the angry belhemels as I pulled the trigger. It disintegrated pleasingly into shards. I heard another shot behind me and was already swinging left myself, ready to slice through the oncoming clown-faced fiend. The blade sank in halfway, I pulled the trigger and it exploded into two pieces which joined the growing pile of debris at our feet.

There was a crackle, the hairs on my arms began to tingle and stand on end and then a bolt of thundaga split the air between us. I leapt aside and saw Irvine do the same, rolling to the ground and stabilising his aim on his knee as he took another two shots, clipping one belhemel's blades and sending it spinning off into the bluffs, hitting another in its maniacally frenzied eye and dropping it instantly.

There were still three left now and they closed in on me as one, the whirr of their blades filling the air. I stumbled upwards, trying to regain my balance from the last evasion and then as the first blade neared my arm, I pulled back, slashed forwards and then leapt into the air, sending the full brunt of the blade's edge down though the belhemel's shield body. Before the two halves had even fallen to the ground I twisted, slicing through the right half and straight into the face of the second. It twitched on the end of the blade until I hit the trigger and blasted it into the grass.

I felt a rush of air behind me, knew the third was almost upon me and then heard the reassuring report of Irvine's gun and saw a few shards of metal sparkle onto the path. I turned to face him, nodded my thanks, and then resisted the urge to put the blade away with a flourish. Irvine showed no such resistance as he spun his gun around on his finger, blew imaginary smoke away from the barrel and holstered it in style. I couldn't resist a smile then. It was good to know that some things never changed.

I think the walk did Irvine some good. He seemed a little less subdued as we made our way back to Winhill. The sun was beginning to set beyond the hills and the quiet village was painted in twilight shades of orange and purple as we entered it. Many of the houses looked run down, but it had a beauty all of its own. On the hillside above it I could see the slender shadow of Raine… mother's grave stretching down towards us. It was a reminder that the past is still with us, even if we don't remember it. I considered it a warning as much as a memorial.

Irvine caught me gazing at it as we headed towards the house and stopped.

"Do you ever wish you could remember her?"

"Laguna and Ellone have both told me about her and those dreams… I do remember her."

"I suppose so. Think how differently things might have turned out, though!"

"History is fragile. All it takes is one pebble and the stream is diverted."

"You've been thinking about things a lot again, haven't you?"

I shrugged.

"Come on in, I'll fix us something to eat."

The walking and fighting had given us both quite an appetite. I quickly fried some chicken and served it with some boiled potatoes, leaving a portion aside for Rinoa. Irvine noticed the extra plate and commented excitably.

"Is she coming back tonight?"

"Should be."

"I'm looking forward to seeing her again."

"I'm sure she'll be glad to see you again as well. I don't suppose we see each other often enough these days."

"Well everyone's so busy…"

A hint of his earlier sorrow crept into his tone as he said that. I thought of saying something, but chose to chase down a mouthful of chicken with a swig of beer instead. By the time I was free to speak Irvine was doing the same.

"So, what is everyone doing now anyway?"

"Well Zell visited a few weeks ago, he seemed happy."

"Is he still with… that hotdog girl, what was her name?"

"No, he's with someone else now, but he said it was nothing serious. He's been working in a shop in Balamb and he says there's always another pretty face walking by."

I laughed.

"He sounds more like you!"

Irvine's laughed back, but it seemed a little short, a little bitter.

"Yeah, well as I said, he seems happy."

"Have you heard anything from Quistis?"

"Not since she left for Esthar."

"She's probably just a bit involved in her new job. I don't imagine she gets a lot of time for letter writing."

"Perhaps not. Selphie wrote to her, though, about a month back…"

There it was, the first time he had mentioned Selphie since he arrived. I'd been avoiding using her name almost unconsciously since I saw his face in the doorway and as I looked at his downcast eyes over the tabletop, I knew it had been the right decision.

"I'm sure she'll write back when she has time."

"Maybe she has already…"

I took another mouthful. I didn't want to probe. Irvine was hurting and Selphie seemed to be the cause. I didn't think I had a right to enquire. All I could do was offer my meagre company and if he told me he told me. Still I was hoping Rinoa would arrive soon. With her cheerful outlook she'd have us laughing and joking just like before and if Irvine needed to talk, she'd listen. She was good at that. She was good at all the things I'd never been able to handle. I sometimes wondered why she could love a guy like me, so emotionally dammed. Or should that have been damned. I guess it doesn't make a difference. Her love was evident with every smile, every word, even the ones said in anger, or with tears rolling down her cheeks.

We ate mostly in silence until the sound of an engine outside stirred us from our thoughts. I looked up at the door with genuine excitement and I could see Irvine doing the same. I knew then that my earlier thoughts had been more right than I had intended them. It wasn't just that Rinoa was a better listener; Irvine would be better at telling her the things on his mind. After all, hadn't he been trying to tell me all afternoon and failing? We were friends, but we would always be distant. I was too sullen; he was too needy of attention, especially from women.

I pulled my chair away from the table and marched quickly to the door, throwing it open and stepping out into the night. Rinoa was just getting out of the car, slinging a small bag over her shoulder, but she dropped it as soon as she saw me and rushed to meet my welcoming embrace.

"Did you miss me?" She started to ask cheekily, but I was already silencing her with my lips. My thoughts left me when I was in her embrace. Even the worries about our future, the decisions that had to be made, they melted away as we kissed.

"Ahem." Irvine said loudly from behind me and I released my grip on Rinoa even as she looked over my shoulder.

"Irvine!" Her smile was so warm and genuinely delighted. "We have so much to talk about!"

I watched as she rushed back to the car to retrieve her bag and then as she ran into the house to give Irvine a friendly hug I stared out at the sky above us all. It seemed so sad somehow, too big and empty to be a comfort, but the light from inside was warm and it was with a sense of relief that I stepped back inside and pulled the door closed.

Seeing Rinoa that night, such a warm and natural hostess, lighting up the room in a way even the log fire couldn't manage, I found myself withdrawing more and more from the conversation and sinking into that world of future possibilities I had been dwelling in so much. It was easy to see why Rinoa had asked me, easy to see why she thought it could work, but for myself, I wasn't entirely convinced. I knew Rinoa would be perfect for the role, of course, but I found it hard to believe I could be up to the part. Not that I didn't want it. If I had thought it was definitely right, if I had thought it would all go as planned, I would have leapt straight at it, embracing it as warmly as Rinoa had, but if it went wrong, the consequences could be dire. If I had learnt anything from the discoveries of the last few years, it was that.

Irvine seemed to be warming up a little more. He became less laconic than he had been with me and spoke freely about all the news he had heard about the others, or listening intently to Rinoa's tales about her celebrity life in the recovering city of Deling. Neither seemed to notice my silences. I suppose they just accepted it, and it suited me fine. The decision seemed to hang above me like a doom spell, and I could feel it counting down. Rinoa would want an answer eventually.

Our guest still avoided the topic of Selphie and Rinoa danced gracefully around the issue with a tact and heart I found touching. I had thought she would make him tell her, but it seemed she had other ideas, although I could tell by her occasional, deep glances in my direction that she knew the issue was there and that it would be dealt with. I don't known if Irvine noticed, but he was smiling by the end of the evening.

"Well I think it's time we called it a night." Rinoa said after a brief, but comforting silence and a glance at the clock.

Irvine yawned luxuriously in response, stretching himself out across the old sofa opposite the fire. "Sure, I'll just sleep here shall I?"

"We have a spare room, you know."

"I don't want to be any trouble."

Rinoa glared at him, with more than a hint of the mother in her gaze.

"You are not causing anyone any trouble at all, Irvine, but I'll be sure to cause you a hell of a lot if you don't get off your ass and into the other room!" She giggled after she said it and we all smiled and laughed tiredly. It was a good evening.

Afterwards, as Rinoa and I lay side by side in the cooling darkness of our room, and her caresses were leading me on as intended, she asked the question I had been expecting for what had seemed like hours.

"Squall? Tonight maybe?"

I felt my skin go cold and clammy and the sensation she had been building so expertly wane a little.

"Not tonight. Not yet."

I felt her warmth depart me a moment as she leaned over to the bedside table and opened the top drawer. She didn't say a word and when her touch returned it was as warm and inviting as ever, but still, I could sense her disappointment. I couldn't keep saying maybe.

Morning came with blinding light. I squinted from the intensity of it and saw Rinoa's beautiful silhouette against the pale net curtains. She still hadn't dressed and I felt some of the night's passion return to me as I watched her move around the room. She had such grace to her. If she wanted she could probably have been a dancer, in fact, I always believed she could be whatever she wanted to be. That she stayed out here, alone, with me, was touching. It shamed me that I couldn't yet offer the one thing she asked of me.

I continued to watch her as she dressed, lying naked beneath the sheets and drifting in and out of consciousness. I'm sure that it's only when you are half awake that you can truly appreciate the comfort of sleeping, or of dreaming, and Rinoa seemed like a dream. When I opened my eyes and found myself alone, it finally felt like waking up.

I washed and dressed quickly before entering the main room to find Irvine already eating a hearty breakfast as Rinoa handed out more straight from the pan. I looked at the clock and wondered for how long I had fallen asleep after Rinoa left.

"Ah, here he is!" Irvine called out cheerfully.

"You're missing out on all the food, sleepy head," Rinoa said as I sat down at the table. "Another few minutes and Irvine would have ate your portion as well."

"I can see why you chose her now. If I had known she made breakfasts this good, well…" He trailed off awkwardly and then tried to hide it by shoving another mouthful of food into his mouth.

"I was thinking was should all head out in the car for a daytrip, today. What do you think, Squall?"

I nodded sleepily and began to eat the food she had placed in front of me. Irvine had been right; it really was a fantastic breakfast.

"Well that's settled then. Once you're finally awake we'll drive up towards Timber and Obel lake."

"It's been a long time since I spent an afternoon there." Irvine said wistfully.

"It's changed a lot."

"Hasn't everywhere?" I replied.

It felt good to drive again. I didn't get to do it very often, partly because Rinoa needed to use it a lot to travel up north and partly because I was comfortably staying where I was. I had already seen so much of the world, now all I needed was a place to call my own. But just as the wind on the bluffs helped to refresh me and distance me from my worries, so the breeze rushing through my hair as I sped along the road northwards towards Timber reminded me that I could be myself wherever. You don't need an anchor for your soul, and neither is it so light that you have to travel to find it. We play our parts in a dance, with the world as our partner, and the key is not to think about it too much.

Yeah, I know. It sounds strange coming from my mouth, doesn't it? But then I had so many other things to think about just then, and the feeling of speeding across the surface of the planet, of everything rushing by in greens and blues and yellows, as if the wind rippling my jacket had colour; it was a kind of release from all that.

Rinoa sat behind me, her arms wrapped around the seat and my chest respectively and she laughed as I put my foot down and Winhill disappeared behind us. Irvine was laughing too, joking about the old times and letting the wind send his long auburn locks trailing after him.

The journey took up most of the morning and for much of that we were silent, each of us lost in some different experience. I focused on the road and the sky, watching how the clouds built up on the northern horizon, threatening rain. Rinoa rested on my shoulders and then eventually withdrew and fell asleep in the back. Irvine just watched the landscape change from grassland to forest as Timber drew ever more near.

Timber was probably the big success story of modern times. Under the oppression of the Galbadian Empire it had become a rusting industrial shadow, but as the centre of the global rail network, and home to both the Timber Maniacs publishing company and the Timber TV station, it had been able to shake the past off with an ease which Deling, as the Galbadian capital, had been simply incapable of.

As we drove through it all the memories came flooding back. It looked brighter now. The Timber spirit, which had once only been seen indoors and in the meeting chambers of the Timber Owls, now could be seen on every street. The greenish metal and stone of the buildings was concealed behind floral blooms, banners and posters advertising theatre, film and music. Above and below more trains than ever before sliced their way along the tracks, from Deling, Balamb and even Trabia and Esthar, now that the global rail project had been finished and the line through Fisherman's Horizon had been restored. It was a vibrant place again, with life and activity to rival the other cities, even the technological symphony - the awe-inspiring silence and motion - that was Esthar.

Still the strongest memory of this place was my second meeting with Rinoa, and that secret shame and disappointment when I discovered how she had been dating Seifer all that summer. She had been totally exasperating then. Of course in so many ways, she still was.

The road stretched onwards and northwards out of Timber into the forests surrounding Obel lake. It had become something of a resort lake since Galbadian influences retreated from the region and there were many campsites and marinas dotting its shores, especially long the peninsula, which, jutting out nearly half the diameter of the lake, was considered to be the perfect place for a resort town.

I shied away from it, preferring the tree-sheltered shores to the lake-monster themed attractions, so we finally pulled up at a secluded little campsite with trees obscuring most of the road in and a silver shingle beach with a clear view past the western tip of the peninsula to the other side.

Rinoa, who had awakened silently as we drove through Timber, was the first out, taking her shoes off as she ran through the grass towards the shore. Irvine leapt over the back of the car and as quick to follow her, stripping down to his underwear immodestly and wading out into the deeper waters. Rinoa just laughed as she watched him splashing about from the shore.

I switched the radio on and sat watching them both from the car for a while. I liked listening to the mixture of old and new music from across the planet that flowed out of the speakers. After the global radio signal jamming had ended with sorceress Adel no longer being restrained in orbit, the world had been quick to set up radio stations and, through music and news, the secrets and barriers of the past were fading fast. Most new music, especially that which came out of Timber and Balamb, was optimistic and bright, but I thought that it was the older music, reminding us of where we came from as much as where we might go, and the troubled artists singing their soul in Deling, that were really important.

Eventually Rinoa and Irvine were calling me out from the car to join them in the water. I turned the volume up and then piled my clothes in the front seat before running to the shore, feeling the thrill of the cool breeze and then the chill of the lake water. Pushing forwards was the most important thing. The cold made you want to hold back, take it slowly, but you had to dive in and keep swimming or else you would only prolong the discomfort.

Soon I was out at Irvine's depth and feeling the force of a man-made wave slap against my face. When my vision cleared I was greeted by Irvine's wide grin and bright eyes framed by his long, soaking hair. I responded the only way I could.

Rinoa laughed from the shoreline as she watched us splashing about, wrestling, then racing the distance between the shallows and a small rock. I could hear her cheering me on as I raised my head to breathe and saw Irvine pulling ahead of me. I gave it one more burst of energy for her. Our hands slapped the grey rock's smooth surface at the same time.

The early afternoon seemed to fly by as we enjoyed the sunshine and the clear water together, but gradually the clouds I had seen building as we drove northwards began to shadow the lake and the winds picked up slightly. Finally I felt the first few drops of rain land on my back as the ripples that marked my presence in the water became disrupted. Rinoa gestured from the shore and ran towards the forest's edge and, dripping wet already, Irvine and I ran after her, half-naked and shivering from the cold.

We stood there in the shelter of a tree, watching the world shed its tears beyond the canopy and feeling that mirrored in the drips which fell from my hair, ran don my nose, my back. I wrapped my arms around my chest, shivering as the heat was sucked from the air by each drop, and felt that perhaps they should have been lower down. My soaking shorts were clinging and in front of Rinoa that might have been fine, but with Irvine there as well it was uncomfortable, especially with him in a similar situation. My clothes were piled on the driver's seat of the car, gathering rain; Irvine's still lay scattered across the shore. Minutes ago that had been fine, but in the torrential silence of the storm it had stopped being fun and had become something both more intimate and more sinister.

I felt Rinoa huddle close to me as we leant against the trunk. Irvine slid down into a seating position and hugged his knees. The three of us just stared out at the shadows racing across the lake, it's surface all pocks and peaks in silver and navy. The radio still played loudly through the percussion of the rain. One song ended and another began.

I recognised it immediately, the soft strings stirring up old memories, lifting the hairs on my arms as they rippled into gooseflesh. I remembered Rinoa's words as that song played over the radio on the Ragnarok; as the flames of re-entry licked up the sides of the cockpit and lit it in shades of orange and red; as she hovered before me, then swam into my lap. I felt so uncomfortable in that moment. Why?

"Why are you holding onto me like this?"

"You don't like this, Squall?"

[It made me shiver, it made me recoil, and yet the desire was there. Shame?]

"Just not used to it."

"How about when you were little? Didn't you feel safe and secure being held by your parents?"

[The void in memory, one not fixed by a bit of deus ex mene, not removed with the Guardian Forces, but filled through experience]

"I can't remember anything about my parents..."

[Laguna… Raine… What does such a bond mean when it's never had a chance to develop?]

"But...Ellone was there for me. Ellone was there to hold my hand."

"Made you feel safe and secure?"

"Sure. But she left. Just disappered. I'm afraid.. Afraid of having that feeling of comfort taken away..."

"You were afraid of losing us? Is that why you kept your distance?"

"I was always alone..."

[Sometimes I need to be alone.]

"Squall... You missed out on all the good things in life. You've missed out on so much."

"...Maybe."

"Definitely. I like it like this. I liked having my mom hold me. My dad, too, back when we got along."

"I'm not your mom."

[But I hear her voice now - this song that connected us before we had even met.]

"No, of course not. But now... Squall you're the one who gives me the most comfort. Comfort and happiness... And annoyance and disappointment, too!"

[Am I still the same?]

"...Whatever."

"Whatever."

[I've changed.]

"You should get back to your seat now."

"Just a little longer."

"We're gonna make it home, right?"

"We can only hope."

"When we get back... We won't be able to stay together, huh?"

"Maybe... No one can predict the future, there are no guarantees. Those were your words, Rinoa."

[Even now, there are still no guarantees.]

I kind of liked it your way, how you shyly placed your eyes on me, but did you ever know that I had mine on you?

"Our song." Rinoa said succinctly. No more words were needed. She cupped my chin in her hand, tilted it towards her and then I took over, leaning in for the kiss. As the fire of memory faded and I felt gravity pulling me down once more I savoured that kiss all the more. "No guarantees", you only had to look north to see that that was true and thinking about the changes I witnessed, both internally and externally, just made me want to hold onto what the moment had to offer.

Irvine's cough brought me back to reality finally.

I flicked my gaze towards him and saw that he was staring at us, slightly red faced. There was something else in that look other than embarrassment, however, and for the first time since he had arrived I began to wonder if he might be jealous. The question was, was it of what Rinoa and I had for each other, or was it more specific than that. I felt a little rainstorm forming in my heart then: a shadow I thought had been cast by Irvine; never imagining it could be my own.

"Sorry, Irvine," Rinoa said bashfully, "we should get you two guys dressed again and head back to Timber to dry off."

Irvine grinned, the heat in his face fading, before nodding and standing with an exaggerated shiver that, considering his state of dress, made me look away. Rinoa just giggled.

"As quickly as possible, then!"

The rain didn't last for long and although the journey back to Timber was, for Irvine and I at least, still a very wet one, it was worth it to see the early evening light spread across the city, sparkling off antennas, flowers and murals and turning the trains into glittering chains of diamonds. I finally switched the radio off as we parked outside a small inn. Irvine leapt out as before and Rinoa waited, leaning against the car as I gathered the few things we'd got together before we left Winhill. Her hand slipped neatly into mine as we walked to the door.

We paid for two rooms opposite each other and then separated in the hallway as Irvine and I bother aimed to get showers and dry our clothes. He was smiling as he disappeared into his room, and at first I was glad that he had had a good time, that somehow we had distanced his troubles somewhat, but as he turned his head away I saw the smile slip slightly to be replaced by the hint of deep anguish.

My own grin faded as Rinoa closed the door behind us.

"What's wrong with him?" I nearly shouted, surprising myself with my anger.

"He's adapting." She replied as she sat neatly on the end of the double bed, looking up as me with calm eyes.

"And just what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means he's never been here before."

"I take it you don't mean Timber, because I know we dragged him through here at least once on our travels."

"Of course not. I mean, he's never been here… emotionally."

"And just where is here?"

"I'm not sure. But it's clear he's been set adrift. It's got something to do with Selphie. I'd guess that they'd split up, but there's more to it than that. He's confused he-"

I let out a growl of anger.

"It's so frustrating. I just want to help him but-"

"But the barriers are still there, aren't they, Squall?"

"They never really go away. Not completely."

"You're not comfortable around him are you?"

"I- I don't know, there's just something about the way he looks."

"It hurts to see a friend hurting. But also, sometimes we have this knowledge that we're afraid of. Somewhere you think you can help, that you might be able to heal that wound, but the barriers won't let you and…"

"And, what?"

"And maybe it's not always wise to let them down too far."

"You're speaking in riddles, you know that?"

"Sorry." She giggled. "It's just, I don't really know how to explain it to you. But it's ok. I'll have a word with him later. You just worry about that shower."

I stripped quickly and went into the bathroom, letting Rinoa sort out the wet clothes and hang them on the drier near a heater. When the hot, pressurised water hit my skin it was hard not to flinch. It was such a contrast to the cold of the lake and as it flowed around my feet towards the plughole it burned.

Afterwards, in the steam filled bathroom I wiped my hand across the mirror and stared at my reflection. The old scar still stood out across the bridge of my nose. I put my hand up to it, touched it as I often did and the shook the memories away.

In the bedroom Rinoa was lying across the sheets. I caught her gaze and dropped my towel. I knew I wouldn't be needing it from there on in.

We had arranged to meet Irvine downstairs for dinner. He was waiting for us, slumped into a plush-looking armchair beside the hearth in the reception area. The creases in his clothes indicated that they hadn't finished drying yet, despite the roaring fire. He looked up as we descended the stairs, still a little giddy and flushed, and then flicked his gaze back to the flames.

I did my best to get a hold of myself, causally let go of Rinoa's hand and approached the chair.

"Looking forward to another fine meal, Kinneas?"

"Sure." He replied. His tone was even more sullen than it had been the day before and I realised it wasn't going to be a fine meal after all.

Rinoa acted as hostess, keeping the conversation afloat, but Irvine's answers to her questions tended to be brief and quiet and his occasional laughter sounded forced. I couldn't figure it out. Why had he got like this so suddenly? He had been fine when we left him outside his room; apart from that look of anguish he had been hiding from us. I wondered, had he been feeling like that all day? It had certainly seemed that he was enjoying himself at the lake. His smiles and laughter then hadn't seemed the least bit fake, so what had happened? I couldn't figure it out at all.

The food was great, but when it came time for desert I left Rinoa and Irvine to it, excusing myself under the pretence that I was full and needed a walk and some fresh air. I did need a walk and especially the air, the atmosphere at the table had just become so stuffy, despite Rinoa's best efforts and I knew, somehow, that my presence there wasn't helping. Perhaps it was my natural silence, that hint of shy darkness that always held me back in social situations, but I knew that Rinoa would do a better job of getting Irvine to open up on his own. So I stepped out of the in into the cooling night air of Timber and started to walk.

The small city was lit up beautifully. Colourful lights danced off every green metal surface, and trails of lanterns lit all it's avenues and alleys. Even the trains seemed to be part of the show as they rattled passed on raised tracks, or lit from below in sparking celerity. Couples drifted through the evening, arm in arm, hand in hand, or loitered at the side, locked in their own private embraces. Teens raced each other to the ice cream stalls, or to fights and trysts in the back alleys, and warmly lit windows looked out across the town as inside families sat down to food and fellowship. Above me, the stars glimmered faintly, still visible somehow despite all the light and colour in the streets.

The air was fresh and the noise of the populous was vibrant without being rowdy. I could hear music and snippets of conversation as I passed an open-air restaurant or the queue to a club. It was a heady mixture of life and love and all the other things that make up the great swell of humanity, but without any of the real darkness. It was a passing glance over our happier moments. It seemed to contrast deeply with the Kinneas problem.

Then I rounded a street corner and found a couple arguing at the side of a fountain. The plaza was empty save for them and I did my best to walk past quickly, not getting involved. Even so I overheard much.

"…think you can just take advantage of me don't you?"

"I don't think that at all babe. I just want you to be a little more open."

"Open? I'm thankful for your hospitality. I'm glad you were there to offer me somewhere to stay. But even Dollet is better than this!"

"What? Can you hear yourself woman? For the last year you've been leading me on, leading me on, and now this?"

"I am not some whore who will pay for hospitality with sex, Micah, and if you think otherwise then I'm gonna have to leave!"

"No, Selbin, don't. Listen to me, please, I never meant…"

The smell of alcohol faded before the shouting, but it was strong enough to point out the real cause of the argument. In Vino Veritas, as they say. I wondered if a little alcohol might loosen Irvine up, but knew that the outcome might just end up the same. After all, we all harbour our secret dislike of people, don't we? Even Rinoa gets on my nerves sometimes. Her outlook is always so bright, and whilst that's what made me love her in the first place, it so opposed to my own view of the world at times that I find it so hard to take. I knew that Irvine's issues might not be with us, but that if we pushed too hard they soon would be.

The argument also reminded me that you couldn't save everyone. I think there was this feeling that after we defeated Ultimecia everything would be okay, but if the last year has taught me anything it's that such heroic sentiments are ultimately naïve. 'Selbin' still had no home to return to in Dollet, and though I didn't know the full complexities of her situation it was clear that both she and 'Micah' had issues to resolve, so even the resolution to her problems could be the source of further problems. It was like that with everything, the whole world over. Dollet and the displacement of so many of its citizens was just one example. The pain of memory, the distrust of Galbadia, was another. The world was recovering, the world was growing and learning and changing, but as was always the case the world was also falling apart all over again. How long would it be before another crisis? How long before another Centra, or Galbadia? How long before another Ultimecia?

But the world goes on doesn't it? Even when the next crisis hits life will go on. There will always be the same struggles and triumphs, the same loves and losses and if the streets of Timber held any knowledge it was that you just had o deal with, you couldn't let the past hold you down, or fear of the future prevent you from taking the next step. You just had to take the moments and run with them, perhaps even dance sometimes.

I got back to the inn a lot later than I'd intended. There was no sign of Rinoa or Irvine in the reception area or dining room, in fact, apart from an elderly gentlemen nursing a drink at the bar whilst a tired looking bartender listened to his troubles, a cliché which never seems to stop being true, there was no one else around. I ventured upstairs and stood for a moment at the door to the room Rinoa and I were sharing. It was quiet and there was no light coming out from under the door. I thought I could hear her breathing, but I wasn't sure.

Carefully I opened the door and peered inside. The room was dark, with the only light coming from a full-size window at the opposite end of the room; its sashes opened and the veil curtains billowing gently in the wind. All the colours of the Timber night seemed to alight upon its frame and slide across the carpet, like a child's night-light. Rinoa lay on the bed, loosely wrapped in the sheets, her arm cupped around a pillow. She looked like she might be dreaming.

I stood in the doorway for a few minutes, silently watching her soft features rise and fall with her breathing, then I turned and saw that there was light coming out from Irvine's room. I closed the door gently and knocked lightly on his, hoping that maybe now would be the right time to offer my services as a friend. The walk had given me plenty of time to think after all, and it seemed like Irvine's problems couldn't be that hard to solve.

There was a grunt from beyond the door which sounded vaguely affirmative so I opened the door cautiously and stepped in.

He was sitting on his bed, sheets tangled in a mess behind him, with the pillows in disarray. He was partly undressed, down to an unbuttoned pair of trousers and a single sock, as if he had been planning to go to bed, however he was now cradling a glass filled with amber liquid. The smell of alcohol pervading my nostrils was quite strong.

"Irvine, what are you doing?" I asked, hearing the worry in my tone only as I said it.

"I… I just thought I'd have a nightcap. Want to join me?" He gestured lavishly, and somewhat unsteadily, towards his bedside table where a bottle of whiskey rested two thirds empty beside another glass. I shook my head.

"That's a shame, a real shame, Squall. But I guess that means there's more for me." He stood up, walked over to the bottle, lifted it as if to pour some more into his glass then stopped, a puzzled expression crossing his features as he seemed to realise that his glass was already full. "Should probably finish this first, right?" He smiled awkwardly before slumping back onto the bed and taking a long pull at his drink.

"You're drunk." I said, following the pattern of all such confrontations, doomed to repetition throughout human history.

"Not drunk. Not drunk at all. No I'm just a little bit… merry! Now come and sit yourself down so we can have a chat." He patted a space on the bed to his right, but again I shook my head.

"I'm okay here, Irvine. What is it you want to talk to me about?" I could already hear myself screaming in the back of my head, leave him alone, don't try and question him when he's drunk it'll only end up badly, but I was there now, and I needed to make sure he was okay, that he didn't do something to hurt himself.

"I don't know if you noticed or not… but I've been a little… out of sorts?" He sounded like he was unsure of it himself.

"You have been acting strangely. I've been worried about you, but I didn't want to pry."

"You were worried huh? Well There's nothing to worry about, man, I've been thinking this evening and I've sorted it all out."

"You have? Then… why are you drinking?"

"It la- lu- lubricates the mind... and the tongue… Do you know why I came here Squall?" I shook my head, feeling confusion and anxiety building in my chest with every one of my friend's words. "It's because," he continued, "I figured out of all of my friends, I could trust you the most. You wouldn't push me, wouldn't demand answers and wouldn't look at me like I'm mad. You'd just be you: quiet, calm, old Squall."

I nodded, in a fashion I hoped was reassuring.

"Just like that. And after I broke up with Selphie, that was exactly what I needed."

I couldn't contain my surprise, even though the signs had been there all along.

"You broke up with Selphie?"

Irvine looked up at me, his eyes intense despite the fog of alcohol that washed through them, then he stood up, tried to look dignified. His state of undress rather undermined the effect.

"Well we both sort of called it off together. It just wasn't working out. And then… well then I thought I'd come and see you guys, get some time to think things through. You know, where do I go from here? All that sort of thing."

He took a few steps towards me.

"I'm really sorry to hear that." I said, slightly stunned, my hand automatically returning to finger the scar on the bridge of my nose.

"Oh, don't be sorry, you see I've sorted it all out now. I was a bit confused but I think I understand it all now."

"Understand what?"

He took another step forward, raised his hand and then clumsily brushed my cheek.

"My feelings for you."

I stepped back, stunned, then, without evening thinking, raised my hand in a fist and sent him reeling back to the edge of the bed. He hit it with a solid thud.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I shouted, my mind spinning with a mixture of rage and confusion, the one fuelling the other. "You can't feel that way, Irvine, it's not right!" I was stepping back to the door now, looking back at my friend as he lay sprawled against the bed a bruise already forming at the side of his mouth and a trickle of blood running down his chin.

He looked up at me sadly, his eyes brimming, and attempted a weak smile.

"It's okay, Squall. I understand I-"

"Understand? What the hell do you think you understand? What about Selhpie, what about Rinoa, what about your common-fucking-sense?"

He let his head drop again and I heard the sobs begin wracking their way out of his throat, and then I turned around, stormed out into the hall and slammed the door. I hadn't felt so angry in a long time, and the lump forming in my throat didn't make it any easier.

I was so confused, and I couldn't focus my thoughts. It all seemed to be Irvine's fault. The feel of his hand against my skin, the look in his eyes, the pitiful sobs I could hear beyond the door. It didn't make any sense to me, and it hurt.

"Squall?"

It was Rinoa. She was peering out from the darkness of our room, her face filled with concern. I looked up at her, stared into those champagne bubble eyes, and felt my own begin to burn.

"What happened?" She pulled the door open, made to move towards me and then I brushed her away as I marched into the soothing dark. Seconds later the light was switched on and as I turned I saw she was already behind me, the door swinging calmly shut. "What is it, Squall?"

I was pacing. My muscles seemed to ache and my chest felt like it had a behemoth sitting upon it.

"Irvine?"

And then I let go, screaming at her even though it wasn't her fault, even though it wasn't anybodies fault, save perhaps my own.

"He touched me, Rinoa, he fucking touched me! All this moody silence and- He touched me! Said he had fucking feelings for me! What the hell's he thinking? How can he be so bloody stupid? How can he think that I would- Shit, I can't believe it!"

She looked at me frightened then, and in my confusion I couldn't tell if it was because I was shouting at her, so tense and ready to strike, or because of what Irvine had done.

"Doesn't he know he's ruined everything? I mean-"

"Squall, you need to sit. You need to calm down and explain what happened, slowly."

"How the hell can I calm down? He's been looking at me like that all weekend and- God, how can I have been so stupid! And when we were in the lake? I'm gonna kill him I-"

And then I landed on the bed, and my head sank into the pillow, and I could feel the dampness begin to spread. All I could see in that soft, wet darkness was Irvine's eyes as he reached out and touched me, the softness of his fingertips as they brushed my cheek, and then the way his eyes filled up as I accused him. I was disgusted, at him and at myself, and above all I was still so confused.

Rinoa's hand landed gently on my back and her soft caress was soothing enough to make me turn and take in several sharp breaths of air.

"It's okay, Squall. We'll sort it out, somehow. We'll sort it out."

I rolled around and looked at her through tear-blurred eyes. Her own eyes were spilling over onto her cheeks, the teardrops landing on my jacket.

"There's going to be some tough decisions ahead, but we'll sort it out, okay?"

And then I let the rage ebb away and the sorrow fill its place completely. In a voice barely audible through my own wretched grief, my mouth too full of saliva and spilled tears, I said the only thing I had left.

"What am I supposed to do now, Rinoa? What am I supposed to do?"

We lay like that forever and eventually I drifted off. I don't remember if I dreamt at all, but when I woke up Rinoa was gone and I still felt awful. I sat up on the bed and tried to think my way through the events; from the moment Irvine arrived at my door, right through our conversations and the trip up to the lake. I remembered how his mood had always been switching, sometimes he was sombre and quiet sometimes his charm and wit shone through, and I was wondering, just how much of that was me?

So in my turmoil I started doing that whole centre of the universe thing. Was he smiling for me? Was he upset over me? Was he looking at me? And because it was Irvine, because he was a friend and because he was a guy, thinking about it only seemed to make things worse. I didn't want to hurt him, but I couldn't think of him that way.

I wanted to do something. I wanted to take some sort of action, but I couldn't think of anything to do. What can a man do in that sort of situation? You can't offer love to someone you don't care for in that way. You can't give them the one thing they want from you. I guess it doesn't matter what the situation, the context; unrequited love is always the same. It sucks. And I understood that.

I understood that, even in his drunkenness, at that moment Irvine was in agony. The denial of desire is always painful. Whether it's "right" that that desire is denied or not, it doesn't matter, something you wanted just became distant, and if that desire was emotional or sexual, then all the more so.

And for the person who realises they can't offer up that kind of happiness? I was learning that that was no picnic either. I felt useless. I felt awful. I felt… indescribable.

And then it occurred to me that there was one thing, at least, that I could do for Irvine. I could apologise.

I stepped out into the hall and stared across to Irvine's door. Just looking at it made my chest tighten. It was as if it was made of steel, covered in bars, thorns, red-hot. I just couldn't imagine myself walking over to it and turning the handle. And yet that's what I did, resting my hand on the surface of the door for a second as I listened to the soft mumble of Rinoa's voice on the other side. I knocked twice and then I entered.

Irvine was lying on the bed now, somewhat more dignified than before, with an unbuttoned shirt and the one stray sock removed. He looked like he had sobered up a bit as well, but in it's place was a look of such sorrow and confusion that I felt guilty for everything I thought I had felt in the other room. His eyes were bloodshot and shadowy and his hair hung limply around his face. The mark o my earlier attack was branded on his cheek and his lip was swelling up.

Rinoa sat across the bed from him, resting one hand on his shoulder and another on his knee. They both looked up at me as I entered, Rinoa with a look of deep sympathy, Irvine with one of apprehension.

"We were just talking." Rinoa said, breaking the heavy silence with a statement so obvious as to have only been said for that purpose.

"Yeah." I nodded. "I just thought… I thought I should maybe say a few things myself."

Rinoa smiled through her sadness and stood up.

"I'll be waiting in the hall, then."

"Look, Squall-" Irvine began.

"No, it's okay. You don't have to say anything. You said enough before." He looked taken aback, so I added. "I mean… I understand, and I need to say this first." He was avoiding my gaze. I didn't blame him. "I wanted to say… I needed to say… I'm sorry Irvine. I'm sorry for reacting the way I did. I'm sorry for hitting you, I just… I didn't know how to take it and… Oh god, I still don't but I know I shouldn't have done that."

"It's alright, man. I shouldn't have told you like that. Hell I shouldn't have told you at all. This is my problem, I need to deal with it myself."

"No! No you don't Irvine. We're your friends and you can tell us everything… you should be able to tell us… it won't make a difference, we'll still care."

"Thanks but… I'm just so confused right now. After Selphie and I broke up… I didn't know where to go and I thought about you guys and something just clicked: Squall will help, Squall's always strong. I've looked up to you for so long, I didn't know, I didn't think, I didn't…"

"Stop beating yourself up about this. It's my fault I should have-"

"It's not your fault." Even though he was still looking away from me, I could tell he was close to tears. "It's mine, I let myself… I let myself hope despite any affirmation. And after this afternoon, I don't know, suddenly seeing you with Rinoa was too much." He looked up at me then. "I know you don't want to hear it, but I need to explain. I wanted you then. I needed to feel you and that you could be having with Rinoa what I'd failed at with Selphie… It made me jealous and stupid and drunk. So it's my fault."

"We should've asked you sooner. We should have tried to help."

"I should never have come." He was crying now and as he leaned in to my chest I let him, resting an arm on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Irvine. I wish I could give you what you want, but…"

I was tired. Emotionally and physically I had nothing left, and when Irvine pulled himself away, distanced himself notably, showing a restraint and bravery I found admirable, I stood up and told him I had to get some proper sleep. He nodded, even ventured a smile, but I could feel his sad eyes watching me as I left.

Rinoa smiled at me in the hallway. She had been leaning in our doorway, nervously awaiting some news.

"How did it go?"

I shrugged.

"I don't know. I can't really feel what he feels, I only hope I made it clear I really didn't mean the things I said earlier. I'm sorry for how I spoke to you as well."

Her smiled widened and she leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

"Who wouldn't fall in love with you?" She whispered as she drifted away and I felt myself blushing slightly and smiling in spite of everything.

"I've told him I need some sleep."

"You do look tired. Go, rest, I'll talk to him some more."

"Its you everyone should be falling in love with, Rinoa." She shook her head, but she was smiling brightly now. "Night."

She blew me a kiss as I disappeared into our room, half-heartedly stripped and then collapsed beneath the covers and let sleep take over.

Morning came for me some time in the early afternoon. The sun was clearly already past its zenith, the noise of a busy day in Timber rattled and murmured through the open window and here was no sign of Rinoa. I had a shower and got dressed, slowly letting the nights events reform in my mind and I was feeling apprehensive again as I stepped out into the hall.

There were no sounds coming out from under Irvine's door and the faint glow of daylight suggested that he too was already up. That was reassuring; I had feared he might stay in there all day.

I ventured downstairs and had something to eat by myself. There were a few other guests milling around, talking in groups, but no sign of Irvine or Rinoa.

When I had finished eating I approached the reception and asked the young woman behind the counter if she had seen them. She told me, with a smile that had probably won her the job in the not too distant past, that they had left early to enjoy the sights of Timber. I asked if they had appeared happy, and she told her, her smile never faltering for a second, that they had been laughing out the door.

I was puzzled; relieved, of course, but still puzzled. Had Irvine's mood really changed that quickly, or was this just bravado? I thanked the receptionist for her help, told her we'd be back to check out later, and then made my way out into the bright sunshine.

Timber was every bit as beautiful and vibrant during the day as it had been at night, although the atmosphere was quite different. There were people everywhere, music everywhere, traffic everywhere, made all the more prominent by the trains rushing by overhead and underfoot. The flowers glowed in the sunlight and the greenish metal that most of the buildings were made of gleamed in oddly attractive ways.

I walked away from the inn towards the Balamb platform and once again found myself remembering that first visit to Timber, just after I had passed the SeeD field exam. She had lead the Timber Owls well, naïve though she had been. We were all naïve then of course, and in a way we still were. Every day brought change, and you never knew if you would truly be up to facing it, or if you vision of how things should turn out could ever come to pass. I had been naïve that weekend, thinking in some way that Irvine's problems would come out over time and that, I guess, they would have nothing to do with me. I could just pat him on the shoulder, say my meaningless there theres and that would be it, friendship would have been honoured.

I guess I was still naïve enough to believe that life could be that simple, but as with everything there was much more to it, and even the most remote of issues could end up becoming your own. I thought of the pride of nations like Timber, Balamb and Esthar and how they looked on Galbadia. They saw the sorrow; the painful memories painted across the streets by graffiti artists and sanctions and were glad it had nothing to do with them anymore. I wondered how long it would be before they were proven wrong.

I drifted away from the platform and followed the crowds departing the most recent train towards the city centre. Soon I was surrounded by shops gaudily advertising products and services, sales and special offers. None of them really appealed to me. I had everything I needed for now.

Then I heard a voice calling out to me. I turned around and saw Rinoa waving enthusiastically. I smiled and made my way over to her.

"Wow," she said with a wide diamond smile, "I didn't think you'd ever get up!"

"A man can only have so much sleep."

"Some more than others it would seem." She put an arm around my waist, finding my back pocket and slipping her hand inside. "Sleep well?"

I nodded.

"How's Irvine?"

"He's doing well. He's just inside."

Together we walked into the small clothes shop, between manikins fashionably dressed in leather, denim and bizarrely cut cottons. Irvine was at the counter being handed a bag by a young shop assistant and as he turned and saw me I thought for a second that he was hang his head and avoid looking at me. Perhaps he thought so too, I saw his gaze waver a second, his eyes look sad once more and then suddenly he was staring at my with a grin on his face and a brightness in his eyes that reminded me of the "old days".

"Morning Squall!" He pronounced extravagantly.

"It's close enough." I replied, smiling back naturally.

"Sorry if I kept you up late, but it's okay now. Rinoa and I have been doing a little retail therapy. See?" He opened up the bag he had just been handed revealing a tan leather jacket.

"It's nice, you gonna put it on?"

He titled his head and winked.

"Naturally, but let's wait 'til we're out in the sun again."

We got back to the inn later in the afternoon after having had lunch at a small café in a back street, watching the trains go by carrying the future with them. Irvine seemed cheerful and his usual wit and charm was in almost everything he said. Only very occasionally, when I caught his gaze in a moment of silence, did I see the man I had been introduced to the night before, and even then only for a second. I'd smile, he'd smile in return and then he'd say something funny and we'd all laugh.

It didn't take very long to for us sort out our things, pay the bill and check out of the inn. It felt like a relief to leave. It felt like saying goodbye to a friend. Then we walked to the Trabia platform, and we were.

"Thanks for putting up with me the last few days." Irvine said as he stood on the platform and the train pulled in behind him.

"It was good to catch up with you again." I replied, rather weakly. "Don't be a stranger."

He smiled and nodded, then turned to Rinoa.

"And I'll think about what you said. I've got some tough thinking to do, but I think you're right, it's all about the choices we make."

She hugged him tightly and then stepped back beside me.

"I don't know how the choices you make will change the world, or your life, but I do know they won't change our friendship."

"Thanks." I could see his eyes were shining, but then he cleared his throat and looked up at us, cheerful and confident. "Well I think I'm holding up the train now. Thanks again and bye!" He turned, his gun slung over his shoulder with his bag and marched confidently into the carriage, turning and waving to us as the doors slid shut in front of him. We waved back, smiling and I held Rinoa tight.

The drive back to Winhill was a quiet one. I think Rinoa and I were just taking it all in, the drive, the landscape, our thoughts; it was all one thing, a speeding, expansive blur, but occasionally the details would come into focus and you almost thought you could make sense of it, of life.

I pulled in to the village as the sun was setting and had to wake Rinoa from her slumber in the passenger seat. She looked up at me sleepily, then held her hand in front of her face to shade herself from the warm golden rays.

"Want something to eat?" I asked. She smiled.

We sat at the table, staring at each other in the dim light over the aftermath of dinner. Rinoa reached her hand over towards me and I set mine on top.

"What did you tell him?"

"Just that he had to understand that he had choices to make."

"What choices?"

"He came here on impulse, he didn't really know what he was feeling and it was in that context that he did what he did. He's not proud of it, but now he needs to find out if that is really how he feels."

"It looked pretty real to me."

"And it was, in that moment I truly believe he did need you, Squall and if you'd let him-"

"But, what? He doesn't feel that way anymore?"

"Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. As I said, he needs time to himself to really think about this. He needs to know which path he's going to choose." She slipped her hand out from under mine and then placed it on top, caressing the hairs on the back and following them up my arm. "He told me that he really did love Selphie, but that he'd been denying some other feelings for a while and he felt guilty, so he left. He needs to decide whether he should go back to her or not."

"Do you know what he'll decide?"

"Of course I don't, Squall, but when he calls and tells me, I'll be happy for him either way, as long as he's sure."

"Choices." I said into the flickering silence.

"I'm sorry if you think I've been pushing you."

"Pushing me?"

"I know you still need time, it's just… I want it so much."

"I know." I turned away from her gaze and thought about everything, about the world and about friends, about the future and about changes. I thought about the succession of choices that made the difference.

"I know," I said again, and realised that my eyes were filling up, but I was smiling, "and I want it too."

I stood up, pulled her over to me and leaned in for a long, sweet kiss. When we finally stopped I stared into her eyes, saw the reflection of my own tears in hers and we walked into the bedroom to give the future another try.

I think when the baby comes and it's a boy, I might call him Irvine… or maybe Leon.