"There is a difference between [those who dream] dreams, and those who live them."

It was a pasty morning in Timber. People busying with work, school, or simply enjoying the fresh morning breeze poured into the closely cornered streets. The atmosphere had definitely changed since the city's declaration of independence. Now trees sprouted up from between the concrete of the sidewalk and blossomed blissfully. Having planted them in front various businesses, the citizens knew their presence would bring some life and greenery into the square and stony neighborhoods of the once gloomy and poverty stricken city. The sky would eventually open up and take on a heavenly, crystal blue, with clear skies all day long. One just had to deal with the pale, bland clouds of the morning for now and look forward to the afternoon sky.

Timber's new peaceful ambiance brought in all sorts of people with multiple backgrounds and agendas. They arrived via train wanting tours of the iconic train themed town. The general public welcomed tourists and such as it was a good way to open up businesses and generate revenue. Even smaller businesses found opportunities here and there, wanting a slice of the thriving pie. However, not every business was there for its evolving economy. While some employees just happened to find a place that would serve as a temporary income until other things opened up, smaller employers just happened to have a client located in the wrong place. Either way, Timber's atmosphere remained unbothered by petty realities of everyday life, and was indeed a glorious place to carry out one's life.

Way across town, Rinoa bustled down the staircase from her apartment and cut through the streets as quickly as possible. It would be her second time appearing late for work in a single week. The first time she had been late due to cleaning up a spill that either she or Angelo caused (though she wouldn't completely rule the dog out as innocent since Angelo had a history of seeking attention in such ways— many times before that particular incident), and now she was simply late after oversleeping. It would be a long and painful story describing why she had to give Angelo a bath at two a.m, so the girl settled on cutting it short to the overly used 'I overslept' excuse. The dog dictated her life, so it seemed, and was more her child than a partner in battle. Rinoa understood that none of this would be viable as a great excuse, however. Even though she worked for a laid back company, it would still appear very disrespectful to show up late for work, especially twice in the same week.

She bypassed the morning joggers and dog walkers, muffling a 'sorry' here or an 'excuse me' there. Such was the norm for her now. How had she come to this life anyway? With General Caraway obtaining an office in Deling City, people made it their point to get into his personal life, which meant that her business was now his business. To avoid succumbing to the pressure of fanatical paparazzi, she moved back to Timber to maintain a low key job. She could also exercise her new rights as a citizen here at her second home and check in with her old friends time and time again.

After leaving Balamb Garden three years ago, her life tended to take drastic changes due to that one finalizing conversation with Squall. It rang as a living testament of her accomplishments as well as failures. She made it a point to live on her own. Rinoa was solely independent and maintaining a life somehow. The income might not have been much, but it was enough to provide her room and board in a place where people knew her before she had become a sorceress, and if they had known she had become one, nobody cared that she was. They remembered how she had played an important and major role in helping to liberate Timber. If it hadn't been for her hiring SeeD, they might still be carrying out petty strategies against dummy presidents.

There wasn't a day that hadn't gone by that Rinoa didn't think of Squall, even if not directly. Still, Rinoa did her best to live without thinking of him. Naturally she was concerned about him, his wellbeing, and the type of missions he'd been on lately. She even wondered if he had found someone else to be with by now. The girl immediately shook her head at the thought, trying to rid away some tiny hints of jealousy. One could say the young woman struggled to maintain her stability without her dear friend, but Rinoa would hate to be seen as weak. Although with such jealous and poisonous thoughts brewing, she could have considered herself becoming weaker regardless.

And if he had moved on…was it her any of her business? She should have felt happy for him. It wasn't about missing him or loathing him, after all. She simply wanted to know that he was okay, but her thoughts mirrored the trees that were now sprouting up too high. Like these untrimmed trees, fear sprung up inside her mind and blocked all signs of progress, causing a slight regression—natural and untamed, and sometimes even distracting or shading the obvious, hiding the truth. They were much like Rinoa's case of denial, to say the least. Why was he on her mind so much today anyway? He was a thing of the past, a phase, so to speak. That was it. A phase… Whenever anyone asked her about her experiences with hiring SeeD back then, Rinoa always managed to conveniently leave out a lot of the details about her past, including her involvement with Squall.

She was into retail now, an assistant manager, and the past was the past. She worked six days out of the week at the pet store in Timber. It was perfect for her. Not only that, but working there also meant getting discounts on doggy treats for Angelo who was waiting at home for the moment.

It was just another day in the city, where every day was about keeping the pets and GFs happy, one item at a time.

Finally, she was within range of her workplace. Despite her being late, it would still be a lovely day.

A lovely day was far from his thoughts. He would have wished he could say the same.

Sharing a street with the busy hotel was the town's pet store where a lowly, red delivery truck pulled up in its front. The man parking this truck could not be bothered with the sights of this particular town. To be fair, any store requesting his products was a good place to visit, but any store located in Timber of all places was bad for his business. He wanted nothing more than to make his deliver and be on his way as soon as possible. He made Timber a rarity in his travels and would often have someone else to do this particular route for him as he had grown to dislike the train town with a passion.

The only reason for his making the delivery now, unfortunately, was because the usual driver called in sick, forcing him to take matters into his own hands.

He hadn't found a problem with the people or the culture. It was simply being there in general that sparked his disgust at the moment, because being in Timber brought back memories of a time in his life that was better off forgotten. Even continuing using GFs proved to be useless. He could never seem to lose the memories that he offered intentionally. It must have been a conspiracy on the GFs' behalf.

However, there was something very undeniable, something rather peculiar about his scarce visits to Timber. Each time he arrived in town, there was always a sudden and mysterious urge thrust upon him to write a letter to someone. Writing had never appealed to him in this way, especially personal letter writing. Even when the others suggested keeping journals, he was the least thrilled about doing so. He already knew about the spare notepad in the glove compartment of the truck's interior and the pen that was in the top right hand pocket of his red and yellow plaid shirt.

After making sure the truck was secured in its place aside the road, he collected the notepad and pen, and began to etch little characters into the soft paper. Interestingly enough, he would always find himself starting the same note, writing the same letters, forming the same words, and feeling the same emotions all over again, but nothing he wrote ever made any sense. There was no beginning, no mid, or an ending. It was an ongoing written conversation between himself and…

He stopped in midsentence, heart pounding within. It was chaos.

The boy immediately ripped the paper from the notepad and balled it up in his hand. He then tossed it into the empty passenger seat. Now was not the time for jotting down vain words.

He began the chore of gathering the items at his side; the two boxes containing the items ordered for delivery, the contact information, and the inventory sheet taped to the top of the smaller box that had now been placed atop the larger one for easier carrying. After a few minutes of getting situated, he opened the door and made the pet store his destination. He took safeguarded steps toward the store, cautiously and speedily.

Rinoa glanced down at her watch and cut around the parked truck outside of the store, almost colliding with a man in a brown cap, holding two cardboard storage boxes. "Sorry!"The girl chimed as she maneuvered around him quickly to reach the entrance. A taller woman with dark, ginger hair yanked the door open and propped it wider for Rinoa to enter.

"Good morning! Sorry I'm late!" Rinoa chirped as she bypassed the stocky woman, Margaret, who was the owner and manager of the pet shop.

"That's fine. You got here right on time for the delivery," she replied, continuing to prop the door while watching the delivery man readjust the boxes in his hold after being bombarded by Rinoa. The two boxes combined were a bit taller than his face. She understood it would take him a minute to get rebalanced. In that time, the manager explained, "I had to order elsewhere because Junior's wanted to add extra fees since my demand sheet was too little. The nerve of those guys, right? Men have gotten cockier since Timber was freed, I tell you," the older woman grunted holding the door wider for the young man who was making progress on his way toward the door.

Meanwhile, Rinoa had trotted to the left wall of the store's small interior until she was behind the front counter. It was positioned this way to see customers entering the store and browsing the premises. That way they were able to keep a full watch on almost every short aisle from behind the front desk.

"They want an extra penny for everything these days," the manager was still griping as her eyes wandered into the streets to people watch.

The girl reached up for her baby blue apron that was hanging from a clothing rack upon the wall behind the counter. She slipped it on over her white polo shirt and tightly fitting black pants. Rinoa was also wearing simple black slip on shoes as they proved most comfortable for this type of work. They were perfect for standing long periods at a time and featured a feminine oval shape with little black ribbon bows that Rinoa adored stitched above her hidden toes. By this time, the man with the boxes had reached the door, but had to wait for Margaret to increase its span slightly.

"Watch your step, sweetie," Margaret coached as she widened the entry by stepping outside, pulling the handle with full strength. It was a large and heavy glass door.

"Hey, Maggie!" A man yelled out to the older woman from the sidewalk outside. She had exposed the store to the busy outdoor sounds of Timber; the moving trains, barking dogs, and the crowds of random chatter that accompanied the footsteps of passerby.

"Hey, knucklehead! How's it going?!" The manager replied jokingly, and then proceeded to have a very public reunion from the door, heightening the already high volume of bodies in motion.

Rinoa grinned at the sound of the woman's voice which was now, thankfully, starting to fade as it had already blended in with the crowd outside. Shaking her head, Rinoa gathered the daily paperwork that was spread across the countertop. She had grown accustomed to tuning out her boss' banter, especially when it came to bashing men. Rinoa hated to take part in the conversation and usually felt embarrassed, and in some cases, more embarrassed or insulted than the victims about the nature of her topics. Experience taught her to find some miniature tasks to complete while there were victims (or visitors!) in the store, and so far, their visitor was now approaching the door seal. Her trained ears were usually compelled to ignore every noise under the low ceiling; but, nothing could prepare her for the sound of his exclusive work boot hitting the cool gray tiles of the floor.

Rinoa's heart stopped.

She froze in place, eyes glued to the spreadsheet before her. Maybe it was her imagination. All men's boots sounded the same when walking across the pavement, right?

With another step inside, she heard the familiar clink of a buckle echoing, curiously the same buckles from the boots he wore long ago, those stylish SeeD boots that he silently adored and polished faithfully once a week. He was so proud of them. She could never forget the sound of his footsteps leading the way in various circumstances. She was behind him every step of the way. The memories were undeniable.

Instinctively, Rinoa's eyes left the paperwork in front of her to meet the person standing in the store with two boxes in his arms, scanning the top of the first box at the moment.

Rinoa knew it. It was him.

He was wearing a brown baseball cap with black outlining, a red and yellow plaid shirt that had been rolled up to the quarter length of his arms. The shirt was opened to reveal a white t-shirt beneath that was tucked into his dark denim jeans. Rinoa was surprised to find him wearing only one belt. Maybe his multiple belt usage of long ago was a phase? She smirked at the thought. And of course he was wearing his traditional SeeD boots that she had now dubbed 'pride' and 'joy.' He then turned the boxes to an angle to catch a ray of light in which caused a beam of light to reflect near her. Rinoa quickly found its source. How could she forget to look for it at first? It was the sterling silver glare that shone across the room from an unmistakable pendant hanging around his neck, though the boxes blocked the lion's head from her view.

Squall's head was downcast. He was reading and reviewing the paperwork that had been taped across the box to ensure everything had arrived intact after such a long journey from his truck to the store.

The girl took advantage of having spotted him first. She stared at his brown locks of hair that had been somewhat trimmed and crushed beneath the cap. His face was hidden by its brim which fell over his eyes as he continued to concentrate on the paperwork below. The cap also made it very difficult for him to notice anyone else in the store, namely her at the moment. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, she thought. She had a little time to prepare for their reunion.

Squall snapped his head up suddenly. Rinoa flinched and ducked down a bit, but he glanced behind at the wall beside the door instead. It would become the next destination for the boxes. He had then made his way to that spot.

The brunet placed the boxes down gently on the floor beside the doorway so that no one would trip over them and then hunched over to grab up his paperwork that was still secured at its top. Pressing his traditionally leather gloved hand into the taped seal at its top, the papers popped up from beneath it without much struggle. After a moment or two he had finally gotten situated, and then stood upright from the boxes. It seemed like the manager was taking forever outside, even the door had been closed while she yapped with the man outside. She couldn't possibly be the only person willing and able to sign, could she?

He finally decided to search for an attendee to sign the appropriate signatures so he could be on his way. Facing the front counter, he immediately met eyes with the woman standing behind it or ducking out of sight rather.

Squall froze. His eyes widened like a scared deer caught in headlights. When she finally found his eyes, there was silence.

Their locked gaze persisted for what felt like an eternity.

Rinoa…you look incredible. Squall mused, blinking quickly at the gorgeous woman at the counter. He was scared to step forward, scared to approach her. He could do nothing but swallow the large lump that had gathered in his throat. With her hair pulled up into a high ponytail that fell loosely down her back, her face was more exposed. Rinoa kept her traditional bangs that rested against her forehead and the long locks of hair that cupped her face. He loved that look on her, but probably enjoyed this one more because it was more revealing. He had always thought her ears accented her face as well, but her old hairstyle seemed to hide them more. The boy stared at her face and noticed her rosy red cheeks. He wondered if she was embarrassed or blushing, but was unable to ask due to unfortunate shock.

A faint doorbell sounded behind them, but neither could react.

Across the room, Rinoa mirrored his behavior. She, too, was petrified. It was the last situation that she would have ever imagined to see him in. Even having gotten the chance to breathe before he noticed her, she was still taken aback by his heated stare. She stood uprightly and opened her mouth to say something, anything, but the words just wouldn't arrive.

"Hello?!" Margaret laughed while waving her hand before his face. "Where do I sign?!" Apparently, she had already reentered the facility and said hello twice before, but the astonished pair hadn't even noticed.

"Oh, uh," Squall tore his eyes away from Rinoa's, and looked down nervously. He then inhaled deeply and released a shaky breath before resuming his task, "Just sign here and initial there," he said, finally reassessing himself while pointing out the appropriate places for the signature.

"Alright," she said, placing her pen to the paper and following in his guidance. After a brief moment of signing and initialing, the stocky ginger grinned, "That should do it! You're as reliable and as reasonable as Fred told me. For an upcoming business, I'll be happy to order from you more often. I also took notice of the rare goodies you have for sale in your inventory. I might even have to incorporate them sooner or later, you know?"

"Thanks, I'd really appreciate that," he answered modestly with an amicable smile. "Would you like me to move the boxes to their designated area? It's a little heavy for lifting."

"No, no, we'll be fine. We're stronger than we look," the woman answered with a laugh. "Even little Rinny over there can manage," she retorted while thumbing behind at the bashful brunette who had yet to budge from her place behind the front counter. Squall instinctively averted his gaze to her.

She can manage…The young man narrowed his eyes momentarily. "I'll bet," he muttered before shifting his focus back to the manager and passing off another cordial grin. Rinoa felt a verbal slap square across the cheek. She immediately sensed tension from him just from that one response. Her eyebrows wrinkled with confusion, with hurt.

"Well, I'll be on my way then," Margaret said suddenly, but then eyed him suspiciously. "…You're that kid from before, aren't you? I had heard a rumor about you working around here doing average Joe work, but I didn't think those rumors were true. Everyone claims to see you in town now and again, but some people say things like that just to get attention. Who knew you'd become so popular? Heck, I even remember when you first came into this store to make a few purchases. Never thought I'd see the day when you'd be supplying those same items to me. Say," the older woman faced Rinoa curiously. "…The only reason he ever came to Timber in the first place was because your faction hired him from Balamb Garden, right?"

"…I'm sorry," Rinoa shook her head," That's something I'd rather not talk about. I'm just as surprised to see him as you are."

"Forgive me," the older woman muttered while facing him again, "I'm talking way over my boundaries here, but I think it's good you're taking on a different career path, doing some soul searching. You can't expect a hired soldier to fight forever, especially when there's no war or nothing to stand for. Take it from an ex-faction member."

Did he quit SeeD? Rinoa stared down in confusion. No…Squall would never...

Squall released his breath and shrugged his shoulders. She was going on and on about him as if he hadn't been standing there. "It doesn't matter," he made himself known in the room again while stripping off her copy of the document and then pocketing his. "This is what I do now and with that being said, the first delivery is on me, so don't worry about the fee. Have a nice day."

"Thanks very much! You do the same, you hear? Oh! And Rinoa, could you please put away the stock for me? I have to run a few other errands! Thanks!" the manager exclaimed as she exited with the close of the bell's chime, leaving Rinoa alone with him inside the empty store.

Dammit, Squall groaned within. The manager had escaped before he could. Now what?

There was silence, and of course one could hear a pin drop.

Rinoa sighed aloud and walked around the counter toward him while extending her right arm. She seemed to be approaching him for a hug. Naturally, Squall loosened up his arms, readying himself for the big moment.

"I have to put that stuff away. S'cuse me," she pleaded, pointing to the boxes on the floor behind him. Squall's mouth dropped straight away. Sheepishly, he tugged on the brim of his cap and avoided her face. Rinoa was so fixated on the boxes that she hadn't noticed any of his animations transpiring. He had completely forgotten about the delivery that was behind him the moment the owner left them alone together. Actually, he had forgotten his entire purpose for being there at all.

The boy quickly recovered from his temporary hurt once the realization of Rinoa's intentions set in. She was going to attempt moving the boxes on her own. He held up his hand, naturally trying to redirect her actions, and blocked her path by sidestepping into her view. "Hold on. Just tell me where it needs to go, and I'll bring it there. It really is heavy."

"Squall, she was right, you know? I can manage."

Is that what you tell yourself every day? He thought while lowering his hand and stepping out of her way of the box. "Alright, you can manage," he retorted sarcastically, though out loud it sounded ridiculously condescending, which was not his intention.

"What are you trying to say?" Rinoa faced him with an eyebrow cocked and then folded her arms.

"Nothing," he shook his head while throwing up his hands defensively. "Forget about that," he responded contritely while reaching up to the back of his neck and rubbing a bit. The brunet then raised his right hand up to the brim of his cap and tugged on it as if to suggest his departure. "I'll let you take care of things here then," he said with a cordial smile.

Rinoa paused for a moment, examining him closely. Squall realized she was up to something and had remained in place awaiting her report.

Her arms dropped to her sides. For the time being, she chose to forget about the boxes that remained untouched on the floor. Something much more serious was at hand, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. There was something about him that appeared odd, offbeat. She just couldn't help but to stare at his face, how it had somewhat changed. It was more defined and less baby like, but it was also being accented by the baseball cap he had chosen to wear. That's what it is! Rinoa exclaimed within. He simply looked different wearing a cap, or could it have been that he had indeed grown a little. Now that she thought of it, he appeared to have gotten taller at least by an inch or so. Either that or she was shrinking. The girl hoped for the former.

Rinoa crossed her arm up and grabbed her left elbow, a familiar and playful stance that Squall noted. She then shifted her weight to the right side of her body while leaning on her right leg. Like the playfulness he had already expected to see, Rinoa tilted her head at first with a tiny grin, still finding it amusing that he had been wearing a baseball cap at all. She'd never seen him in one before.

As her stance implied the obvious and unspoken, he knew she was bound to let him in on whatever was going through that interesting mind of hers.

"What…?" he finally asked with a quizzical stare, unable to withstand the suspense any longer.

"Is that a new look for you, the ba—se?" Rinoa released a rushed chuckle even before finishing the rest of her question. She muffled her mouth and then continued, "…The baseball cap?"

Glancing up at the brim of his cap first, he came to a full grin. He had completely forgotten about the concept of wearing one. After growing accustomed to wearing it, it was akin to wearing the gunblade sheath daily. It became part of him, figuratively speaking. "It's just part of my work attire. That's all," he answered with a shrug. Rinoa's hand relaxed back down to her side as he continued, "Weather varies depending on the town or region I'm in, and it helps me to see where I'm going. What about your apron?" She had indeed looked cute in the little blue apron, he admitted within.

"It's part of my work attire, too." The girl's smile softened, glad to see she had cut some of the tension between them with laughter.

"It looks…dorky, I know," he admitted, referring to his cap.

"No it does not," she shook her head. "It looks good on you."

"…Whatever," he said while waving a hand in the air and joining Rinoa in a little chuckle. The store was filled with their soft chuckles and created a nice and mellow atmosphere. It was breathable again. Squall relaxed.

"Wanna sit down?" she asked him.

"No, I'm fine," he replied quietly.

"Well, I will!"

Rinoa abandoned the boxes on the floor and made her way back toward the front counter. She walked around it and took a seat on the stool behind, inviting him further into the store. Squall approached the counter also, stopping at its front. From therein he took on his familiar stance, one foot before the other and pointed at an angle while the other remained on the straight path. She smiled at his nonchalant behavior.

"…So," he rested a hand on his pelvis. "How have you been?"

"I've been fine. Thanks for asking," she smiled while gathering her breath. For some reason she felt jittery, as if she was being interviewed. "It hasn't been easy, but I've managed to land a nice job here. I've been working at this store for a while."

"That's good," he nodded. "…I heard things were a little rough for you once Caraway got into office."

How does he know that? Has he been checking up on me? Rinoa reflected before discussing the matter, "Yeah. Now that the media is broadcasting live again, everyone's curious about Deling City's next steps. They want to know everything he plans to do with it. They started digging up the things that happened when Edea was possessed by Ultimecia. And of course, everything that happened then leads to me and my being there when Deling was murdered by her hands. I ended up leaving Deling City to live here for a while. I was supposed to be there to patch things up with my father, but that'll have to wait." Rinoa's eyes shifted to the floor, "To be honest, I'm a little glad it's been put on hold..."

"I know the feeling…" He agreed, remembering a talk he had had with Laguna some years back, before she left. I had just found out about him being my father…and…sometime after, she left. Squall lingered in the past longer than he intended to.

"Oh yeah!" Rinoa exclaimed, snapping him out of his daze with her a sudden thought. Squall was grateful. Their eyes met again, locking instantly. Rinoa slightly blushed, but managed to follow through with her question. "Did you ever get to go back to Esthar after that talk with Laguna?"

"I have," he nodded once more.

"…And?"

The boy shook his head and retired the hand from his waist. Looking down at the tiled floor, he searched for a reasonable answer. "There's so much I don't understand… Having been able to see the past in action for myself, I…I don't understand how Laguna made a choice to stay there for as long as he has." The boy lifted his azure eyes back to hers as he continued, "But it is what it is, I guess…"

Rinoa was unsure of his exact reasoning for making that statement. Once in a while, he would speak about events from the dream world they witnessed as if Rinoa had been able to see it too. Even knowing she hadn't experienced the first handful of dream world episodes like everyone else, he and the others hadn't gone into detail about it or thoroughly explained what they had seen in the past. Sometimes she felt so out of the loop.

"Well…what about now…?" She found it safe to change the subject, seeing as Squall was quite reserved about the somewhat recent revelation of his parents. "What exactly do you do now, or rather how did you get here?"

"Me?" his grin returned, dismissing the thought, "…It's a long story."

"Well let's hear it!" she displayed a bright smile, leaning forward into the counter.

"Aren't you on duty?"

"You say that like I'm a SeeD or something," she laughed, "but yes, I am on the clock."

"Then you should get back to work, Rinoa," he suggested while motioning his head back toward the boxes that were still stacked beside the door, untouched. "I don't want to hold you up; besides, I have to be getting back to work, myself. My driver called in today and so I'm filling in."

His driver…? Subconsciously, Rinoa's face dropped to the floor worriedly, as if forgetting something, "…I guess…I guess you're right."

He nodded.

"In any case," she continued, while facing him once more. "It was really good seeing you again, Squall. I—"

Suddenly, a ringer of some sort sounded from his pocket, curiously it was the same chime from the bells at Balamb Garden. Rinoa smirked at this discovery. Squall reached his hand down to his side to see the caller's information. He was receiving a text message from a coworker via the online store services.

"Speaking of…sorry, I have to get going," he apologized while silencing the ringer and leaving the phone in his pocket. Rinoa straightened her back as he followed up, "It was good to see you again, too. I'm glad you're doing well."

"Yeah, you too," she agreed unenthusiastically, disappointed and unsatisfied at the most.

"Take care, Rin," he smiled amicably and waved, and then turned away from her. The brunet made his way toward the door, heavy boots hitting the floor one step at a time.

Rinoa squeezed her hands into fists. She wanted to scream out to him to stop, but couldn't. Seeing him again and speaking with him again, it didn't quite carry on the way she had imagined it would. Given how they had parted ways in the past was most unfortunate for both parties, but surely there should have been more conversation between them than that. He could have at least given me a contact number or something, she groaned within.

"Squall!" she called out to him finally, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. He had his hands on the door handle, ready to pull for the exit. The brunet narrowed his eyes, glaring through the glass door. His eyes aligned with the bricked pavement outside where the pasty sky seemed to smother it in fog. Rinoa's eyes saddened, "Is that all the time we have?" She swallowed her breath, watching the back of his head at the door. She tried to find his reflection in the glass from her place behind the counter, but could only find his silhouette painted in the doorway. It reminded her of his dark attire and the coat with the fur trim. The girl placed an elegant hand on the cherry wooden counter, tracing its outer edges as she walked around to its side.

"You…" her voice barely overcame the silence. She could hear him breathing from there, "You haven't even told me how you're doing," she walked gently into the stillness of the room coming to the end of the counter, but leaving her hand at its edge.

He stood in place with a firm grip on the door handle, still contemplating his next action. He really didn't want to end their conversation. Inside, he was just as overjoyed as she was and wanted to stay longer. Naturally, he was excited to see her face again, to speak with her again, and hear her voice again; however, he could not stand to see how incredibly well off she had been without him, nor could he pretend to continue with his charade.

He could no longer carry on the façade of having no hard feelings. Unspoken bitterness tugged at his heart as he forced out his answer. It was the type of bitterness he had learned to ignore over the years. Covering it up with work had always seemed to work so well.

"Can't complain…I seem to be managing well enough on my own, thank you," though it hurt to admit it aloud, his response was still as honest an answer as he could possibly gather with all the strength of his mind and body.

Rinoa's reaction remained unchanged.

The boy stared at the ground a moment longer, blinking quickly. Realizing she was still unsatisfied with his response, he sighed aloud. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" He finally revealed his face to her, eyes retaining that sternness she had remembered from their past.

"…I beg your pardon?" Rinoa lifted an eyebrow.

"…When you left, you said you wanted to be able to meet back up with a smile. No hard feelings, correct…?"

Rinoa was at a loss for words; however, he was completely right. He had indeed quoted her verbatim. How cruel and ironic life was, taking her very own words spoken and then gift wrapping them and presenting them right back to her. In the end, it was a horrible gift, a horrible but a necessary one. It sounded nice and ideal as a teenager, but to actually hear it spoken and to live through it was excruciatingly difficult.