Omake 2 – MP3 Shenanigans! Part I – This takes place during the week of travel to Trabia Garden.


"I'm bored," Zidane announced, and Squall looked up from the textbook he was pretending to study out of. Not like he had classes anymore, anyway…

"And?" the mercenary asked, reaching over and picking up his can of soda. He took a drink, finishing it and tossed it behind him; either Squall was amazing or just a good shot, but he managed to avoid hitting the SeeD behind him and landing the can in the trash can. Those in the cafeteria that sound it awed at it for a second.

Zidane glowered a bit at Squall, ignoring the crowd. "This trip is driving me crazy. Don't you hate this trapped feeling?"

"The Garden isn't the biggest, but it's fairly large for someone of your size." Squall looked back at his book to prevent himself from smirking when Zidane let out an indignant sound.

"Don't make fun of my height!" Zidane whined. He was going to whine again when he realized Squall was teasing him.

That made Zidane pause and, while pretending to glare, study Squall. His face didn't change much, but to the one who used to look at it all the time Zidane could see the slight amused crinkle at the corner of his eyes. How his lips were a bit pursed to prevent either a smile or smirk, and how he kept his head low to hide all those subtle changes. Days in, and Zidane went from total mistrust to… being teased?

Despite that really shouldn't matter, Zidane instantly forgive him simply because it meant a bit a normalcy was coming to them. Well, normalcy for Zidane…

While giving Squall the studious eye, Zidane finally noticed an odd string hanging from around Squall's neck. Following it, he noted it went to Squall's pocket, and he tilted his head in confusion. "Hey, Squall," Zidane called, and the mercenary glanced at him. "What's hanging from your neck?"

Squall frowned a bit in confusion, reaching up to feel what the hell he was talking about. His hand ran into the wire and pulled an ear bud down, and Zidane stared as it landed and rested neatly in Squall's palm. Realizing that's what the blond meant, Squall shifted so he could dig into his pocket and produced a slim, palm-sized box.

"It's an MP3-player," Squall explained. Zidane's vapid look didn't improve, so Squall pressed a small button on the side, making it light up; Zidane's eyes widen in wonder. "It plays music."

"Music?" Zidane stared at the little thing. "I don't hear anything."

"It's not on," Squall replied. Realizing this could keep Zidane quiet for a few precious minutes, he pulled the rest of the wire from his neck and handed the headphones to Zidane. "Put the ends into your ears, make sure you're comfortable."

Zidane did as he was told, although no matter how he put the things in it wasn't very comfortable. Squall then handed him the box, and pointed at the circle thing beneath the glowing part.

"Press the bottom part of the wheel to play," Squall said. "The top part takes you to the menu, honestly don't bother, I don't feel like explaining it. If you don't like the song that plays, press the left side to change to a different song. If you like the song enough to replay it, before it ends press the right side."

Zidane stared at all the words on the glowing part, unsure of where to start. Seeing his hesitation, Squall ran his finger along the wheel, scrolling to the very top of the list until the player highlighted 'shuffle.' He then pressed play.

Zidane jumped once the music stared, nearly dropping the player. His eyes darted around him, wide and awed, and Squall really had to fight the urge to laugh when the blond fixated on him the look a five year old gave when discovering something amazing.

"Wow!" Zidane exclaimed, louder than needed, and Squall tried to shush him. "It works!"

Now thusly fascinated and quiet, Zidane stared at the player as Squall went back to his war strategies book. The amount of sound the little box produced amazed Zidane immensely, and the 'music' was obviously much different than any he heard, yet he found himself liking the hard sounds and banging drums. Reading the screen, he noticed the words Rock music as well as what he presumed was the title of the song.

Zidane randomly pressed the left side of the wheel, and the song cut off, the screen changing to show a different title. Although the instruments seemed the same, the voices that came through were obviously female, and Zidane rather liked how her melodic singing went with the otherwise loud sounds.

She's talented, Zidane thought. Reminds me of someone…

As the song played, picking up pace and crescendo, Zidane closed his eyes for a moment and focused on the voice. It wasn't anything like it, but it still brought a flash of a memory to mind. A young woman, with long dark hair, dressed in orange with a huge crystal hanging from her neck.

War-world? Zidane opened his eyes. No, he remembered the war-world and that woman wasn't a part of it. Homeworld, then.

He suddenly felt sick, and Zidane repeatedly press the left side of the wheel to stop hearing the voice. Once the voice faded, so did the faint memory and homesickness he felt. He sighed in relief, although Squall didn't seem to notice it, and the next song started off a little different from the others.

Zidane strained the listen, and the song began to build up volume. A man's voice soon joined the instruments, but as he listened Zidane's brow furrowed. The few songs he heard before, he understood what the singer sang about, but after the first few lines (of which all he caught was a few women's names) he was already lost.

The chorus, he assumed, played and repeated a word he never heard of. It didn't sound anything like he heard before, so he couldn't even try to guess what it meant. Looking at the screen, he mouthed the title silently, and realized the word was in the title.

"Hey, Squall!" Zidane said, again far too loudly than he needed. Squall cringed, looking up.

"You don't have to raise your voice, Zidane, just because you're listening to loud—"

To Squall's horror, Zidane didn't hear his scold. Instead, the blond held up the player and, perhaps even louder, inquired, "What's porn?"

It was as if the entire cafeteria went quiet, and Squall stared disbelieving at Zidane. The blond waited a few moments, the song still going on as loud as ever and filling his ears. When Squall's mouth didn't move, Zidane repeated the question, even louder.

"It's about a porn and a dancing star, what's it mean?"

Squall could feel everyone's eyes on him as even the cafeteria workers heard him. Pornography was banned from Garden, of course, and was considered a top-rated offense. The mercenary snatched the player from Zidane's hand, staring at the song title.

"Hyne damn you, Zell!" Squall yelled, and he could hear Zell laughing as the boxer escaped the cafeteria with a giggling Selphie and Irvine trailing him.

"Squall?" Zidane shouted.

The mercenary said nothing, just slouching in his seat and hitting his free palm to his face.


*The player is an iPod, yes, and the song in question is "Porn Star Dancing" by My Darkest Days.