A swivelling whirr signaled the rotation of the security camera to one side, where it lingered depressingly before the drone of the mechanics began anew.
Though she couldn't see where it was pointing, encased in its black orb, Detainee Quistis Trepe waved towards it anyway, a sardonic expression crossing her face before sighing audibly. She made a show of wringing out the sullied rag she was currently using to polish Balamb Garden's extensive collection of weaponry to a reflective shine.
At first she had wondered why her Instructor had thought it wise for a ten-year-old to be alone in a room full of weapons for three hours. She realized it on her own, when she experimentally picked up a gunblade and longed for a split second to swing it around wildly, that such temptations were easily resisted. She couldn't do it. Instantly, paranoia conjured visions of Instructor Dunne or Holly or Doctor Kadowaki or anyone, really, in her mind, poking their heads in the door and instantly demoting her to some sort of newly created negative rank for remedial cadets like her.
Quistis Trepe was simply not built for disobedience. She supposed it was a parameter that was tested for. She wondered what her score would be on that test.
She sighed tiredly as she clumsily placed a lance against the wall where it promptly fell aside and knocked over all the other weapons surrounding it. Opening her mouth immediately to apologize to the nonexistent witnesses, she settled for mentally berating herself. After looking around the room quickly in spite of the closed door, she fell heavily onto the bench in the centre of the room, looking at the camera again and feeling rather silly.
Knocking exploded on the other side of the door that sounded not unlike the rapid fire of a machine gun. When the perpetrator heard no response, the handle began to turn slowly. Quistis raised an eyebrow at it, then glanced at the mess she had created of the pole arms just to the left of the door. However, she found her nervousness unwarranted when the lock on the door engaged and her would-be visitor stubbornly began to twist the handle repeatedly.
"Hey!" The knocking had returned with renewed vigour. "Are you in there, Quistis?"
She moved closer to the door. "Who is it?"
A hesitant pause. "Just open up, would you? I've got to deliver something to you."
Her curiousity piqued, along with a tiny sense of foreboding creeping up her spine. She hesitantly eased the door open a crack, enough to reveal that her visitor was much taller than her, didn't quite fit his cadet uniform quite right, and was holding some sort of parcel in his hands.
His large brown eyes widened considerably, mirroring her own expression, and he took the opportunity to try and wedge his large foot in between the door and the frame. Quistis' hands instantly began to push against the door in defense.
"Ow!" the boy whined, and Quistis relaxed the force she was applying – until he then tried to jam his shoulder into the slim space.
Slightly annoyed, Quistis planted her feet firmly on the ground and leaned, almost casually into the door, grabbing onto the bars of a display rack and occasionally gripping it for added leverage.
"Okay! I give up!" the intruder choked out, still trying to worm his way through the slowly closing air pocket Quistis had allowed him.
"Who are you?" she asked him coolly. "How do you know my name?"
He was now trying to stuff the box in between the space as well. He also appeared to be holding his breath, as he had realized every exhalation just allowed Quistis' weight to close the precious breathing space she'd bestowed upon him.
"I'm a friend – of Fujin's -" he wheezed. Quistis reached over and took hold of the rack again, pulling slightly.
"Ugh," the boy responded.
"Yeah? And she wanted you to deliver something for her?" she asked sarcastically, glancing over her shoulder at the camera behind her in the corner of the ceiling.
"Yeah – I -"
"Why couldn't she do it? How did she know where I would be -"
"Seifer – ah -"
Quistis stepped away abruptly from the door and let the boy crash to the floor in a messy pile. He inhaled deeply, large hands resting on his chest and the box he'd meant to deliver a few feet away, forgotten.
"I'm – I'm sorry," Quistis said awkwardly. She reached out her hand as if to help him up, then diverted the motion into a slow motion windmill swing of her arms, moving backwards to sit on the bench behind her.
"Are you okay? I heard a ton of stuff falling over, ya know?" the boy asked, having caught his breath.
Quistis pursed her lips, unsure of how to interpret such questions. After all...
"The spears that you're lying on," she answered. "And yeah, I'm okay. And no, you don't have to put them away."
Fujin's friend had stood to his full height now, and sheepishly set the staff he had picked up back on the stand. He turned around, surveying Quistis with supressed excitement she couldn't quite comprehend due to the overall peculiarness of their current situation.
"Fujin wanted you to bring something to me," she reminded him, indicating the box on the floor, which he scrambled to pick up.
"Yeah," he said, nodding profusely. "I'm Raijin, I'm her friend."
She tilted her head slightly, keeping her hands on the bench on either side of her. "A friend of Seifer's too, then?"
"Yup," he confirmed casually, as though this information wouldn't mean that much to her. "He's the one who said you were also getting punished. So we figured you might be doing something similar."
"What's he doing?" Quistis asked.
"Cleaning. Like you, but the equipment." Raijin looked around the room for the first time as if just noticing it was filled with every type of melee weapon imagineable, and his fingers twitched involuntarily. "Wow, that's why it was locked I guess."
Quistis smiled wryly. "Well, I do get a check-up soon since I'm scheduled to be done in about a half-hour," she informed him. "So if you want to laugh at me opening up a package of time-release stink bombs, I'll do it now."
"It's not anything bad, ya know. I think," Raijin tried to explain, thrusting the box at Quistis and hitting her with it in the arm. "She had to talk to her instructor for permission to get it, so don't think it's anything bad. Seifer doesn't know about this. At least, I don't think so," he added.
Quistis surveyed the boy above her, tall, dark-skinned and bulky. Her eyes ran over his shoulders and down his arms to the box he held out in front of her face, just beneath her chin. She stared into his eyes, seeing no malice, and reached out and pried the box from his grasp, settling it on her lap.
"It better not be anything bad," she threatened, "or I'll ... I'll -"
She sighed. Really, what could she do? Threatening to go to her instructor, while a legitimate action, seemed so futile and childish. Raijin seemed to realize this as well and only grinned at her, for all of his size looking remarkably incapable of harm. She deftly unclasped the snaps on the box and opened the lid, her brow creasing in slight confusion.
"I think she wants to make up for the whole thing with Seifer, ya know?" Raijin supplied.
"That wasn't her fault," Quistis mumbled to her bandaged arm. She looked back to the box at the weapon resting inside, doing a double-take.
"She said you were only being nice, but Seifer was all riled up – that didn't have much to do with you either," Raijin said as Quistis opened her mouth to talk. "She tried to tell him afterward, but he wouldn't listen to her, ya know?"
Quistis brightened a little at this, looking down at the carefully coiled whip nestled inside the foam cushions. It was perfectly polished, smelling of freshly serged nylon and moulded rubber.
"Fuujin's really good with people's movements, ya know?" the boy said with a hint of pride meshed in his tone. "She suggested I use the staff, and so far, I think I'm doing pretty good with it."
Quistis arched an eyebrow at this. "A whip? Why?" she heard herself ask.
He only shrugged in response, as if such a thing wasn't that important as long as she was now armed. "Something about your wrist? I dunno," he furrowed his brow in thought, holding his chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Oh, I remember!" he exclaimed in triumph. "You reminded her of someone."
She blinked. "Any idea who?"
"Don't think so. All she said was GET WHIP. QUISTIS. Or something like that."
Quistis stared at him for a moment before taking the explanation for what it was worth.
"It's not a real one, it's a trainer, so you'll need to get cleared before they graduate you to a genuine chain or leather whip," he explained with an excitement lining his voice that surprised her.
She gave him a small, sincere smile before she returned to running her fingers slowly along the edges of the box. "Thanks," she said softly.
"No problem," Raijin responded, suddenly sheepish. He scratched the back of his head, causing his ill-fitting jacket to shift upwards. "Well, I gotta go. You're almost done so Seifer should be too in a minute – maybe I'll talk to you some other time?"
Quistis watched as he sidestepped the still fallen weapons on the floor, and all but bolted from the room, leaving the door to click quietly into place.
.
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ROMANTIK/ iii. Human Knot
.
.
Raijin marched down the same hallway four years later, trailing behind Fujin, proud, sure of her steps, every movement sharp. She stopped abruptly, raising an arm and knocking on the door there three times, clearly, and concisely.
"SEIFER. PUNISHMENT COMPLETED?"
The door flew open and Seifer appeared, a stormy glare on his face as he held his cadet jacket away from him and shook it out, creating a steady stream of dust. They were all a little older now, but only Fuujin seemed to have grown significantly, with her height almost equal to Seifer's, much to his chagrin.
"My eyes," he groaned as he threw his jacket over his shoulder and began to grind his palms into the offending body parts. "The dust. The sweat. Can you believe it? Don't they have staff to do this kind of work? This whole thing is a conspiracy!"
"You mean your weekly detention?"Raijin asked innocently.
"Don't even get me started on that," Seifer said bitterly, shoving his hands in his pockets and stalking down the hallway towards the cafeteria. "And always with a bunch of idiots."
"Well, there was that one time," Raijin began, a contemplative look on his face, completely missing the dark look his female friend cast him.
"The one and only time," Seifer finished for him with a scowl. "Because -"
"IT'S HER," Fuujin declared with a roll of her good eye.
"Right, Fuujin," Seifer said, elbowing her good-naturedly. "Something about this place always wanting to hold me down, isn't it?"
"No one likes the truth, ya know," Raijin echoed an oft-repeated sentiment of Seifer's.
"Now you get it," Seifer grinned, clapping his friend on the the back. They let Fuujin walk slightly ahead of them, leading the way to the cafeteria.
.
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The notice about the compulsory field evaluations appeared three days before summer vacation commenced. Held in invertals during the year, they were evaluations only in name, and served more as unofficial exams that determined what levels you would be placed at at the start of the new year. Decisions could be appealed within a certain time period, and as Quistis knew quite well, crash courses and refreshers were always offered during vacation time depending on availability of instructors.
On an early morning on her way to the training centre, Quistis lingered in front of one of the monitors merrily flashing a ticker of relevant news, and currently, the class assignments for the upcoming exercise.
Her eyes had just flickered over the line that indicated the scheduled date for her class when she heard footsteps approaching, echoing on the flooring. She averted her gaze nonchalantly to the side, the approaching figure coming into focus.
She quickly stared back at the screen, the sharpness of the picture suddenly painful. Her hands tightened around the handle of her weapon case, and she shifted uncomfortably. Did maintenance just turn the heat up? Since when did being hot make the back of your neck prickle?
He was walking towards her... was he just going to pass her by?
'I mean, I'm the only one in the hall, right?' one side of her brain mused. 'So he should at least say good morning or something.'
'Yeah, but weren't you just trying to see who was coming out of the corner of your eye so you could gauge whether or not to greet them?' the other side argued.
Quistis furrowed her brow, shaking her head. 'I don't care whether or not he says hi,' she thought angrily to both voices.
'Well then, he's just going to walk-on-by,' a new, singsong voice sounded.
'He is,' Quistis mentally agreed in dismay.
'Then. Do. Something.'
'I don't care.'
'Oh, but I think you do -'
"Hi," Quistis said with a sudden, unbecoming twirl. When her target wasn't behind her, she mentally slapped herself and rotated further, trying not to look embarassed. He'd stopped walking, but he hadn't turned around.
"Hi, Squall!" she said in a slightly louder voice that sounded horrendously squeaky to her ears. He looked at her. If she hadn't wanted to look awkward before, the jerky wave that accompanied her greeting wasn't helping matters.
It was early enough that she could correctly assume he hadn't been up long. His chestnut hair was falling messily in front of his face, as though he had given up on stubbornly pushing it back, and his face was set in the same usual, familiar frown, except now it was laced with the last remnants of sleep. Quistis smiled – because of a completely unrelated reason, she reminded herself. It was a summer vacation! A week off!
"Morning," he greeted.
"Are you going to the training center?" she asked, looking pointedly his gunblade slung over his shoulder in a case and his casual mode of dress.
He moved his head slightly, and to everyone that had studied him carefully enough, it was his version of a nod.
"I'm on my way too," she told him, not bothering to wonder where her sense of propriety had gone and how to find it again. "Maybe we could practice together?" she tried not to sound too hopeful, "and offer critique, feedback, stuff like that."
She was unknowingly balanced on the tips of her toes and slightly bouncing. It happened every time, regardless of whether he was giving a dull presentation at the front of the class, or she was asking him what he thought of today's lunch menu – she hung on every word, every breath, every rare change of facial expression.
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "I'm sorry Trepe, you know how it is - "
"I like to train alone," Quistis said with him. Automatically, her mouth curved into a smile and she laughed briefly. "I'll see you later."
He gave her another slight nod and continued the rest of the way down the dormitory hallway, albeit a bit faster than before as if to make up for the delay.
She sighed, an echo of her earlier giggle escaping her lips, bitterly.
Every time it ended the same way. Every time, he'd walk away from her.
.
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ATTN: Seifer Almasy
ID: 41270
Mr. Almasy,
Academic administration regrets to inform you that due to your results in compulsory class GOV4A, module C, your instructors have agreed in a 3:1 vote to require repetition of the entire course, pending results of your annual field evaluation.
Please be diligent.
Academics Office
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The notice's unfortunate recipient crumpled the sheet between his palms as he stalked angrily in the direction of the training centre to see if Fujin was checked-in.
He wrinkled his nose in distaste as Squall Leonhart moved into his line of sight, and paused to throw a glare in his direction. In what Seifer deemed was a smart, yet wimpy move, Squall ignored him and continued on in his drab existence. Seifer smirked to himself and revelled in his own superiority, the reason for his foul mood momentarily forgotten as another figure came into view as he turned into the hallway towards the training centre.
"Study date in the training centre, Trepe?" he said with unhidden glee. "By the way Leonhart was running back towards the dorms I'm guessing he thought you'd be whipping the monsters."
She didn't walk away like her supposed study partner had, so Seifer prepared for a good row. Quistis was only one to disappoint maybe half the time he challenged her; it always depended on who was around.
"Academic Notice, Seifer?" she said sweetly, peering at the crumpled paper in his hand.
Instantly his temper re-ignited as he took in her slightly mussed appearance, complete with a stupid self-satisfied half-smirk that could have mirrored his if she could actually pull if off. He acted as though he didn't hear her, instead just looking at her instead as though she was taking suggestions for improving her cooking. His penetrating gaze ran over her face, then down her arms, stopping at the angry red welts that had sprung up upon her flesh.
"Geez, you're supposed to be able to hurt others with your weapon, not yourself," he sneered. When she responded by shrugging her shoulders casually the wince that formed on her face did not escape him. "You got yourself more than you got Squall, maybe that's why he looked so down."
He mentally patted himself on the back as she began to glower. He could tell she was fighting it, but couldn't stop the redness rising onto her cheeks.
"Studying," she said calmly. "You should try it sometime. It would help you avoid those kind of notices."
"Wouldn't you love to know that's what it is," he shot back. "But you think you know everything about everyone so I wouldn't put it past you to think -"
"Module C?" Quistis interrupted him, a hard edge to her voice. "I believe I got top marks on that one."
"Should that mean something to me, Trepe? Because I already know pets and ass-kissers get top marks in everything."
"I would have -"
"You had the nerve to want to tutor me," Seifer finished for her. "I don't need anything from you. Especially from you, Trepe. Go ahead and beg to train with Squall all you want but never try and offer me your tutelage again."
"Seifer, you're the -"
"But wait," he interrupted her. "He doesn't seem to want your time."
"Harrier asked me to help you," Quistis said in a frighteningly calm manner. "Because if you didn't pass the test for module C, you would be in danger of failing the course. I believe his exact words were, 'Quistis, please take the time to help Seifer. He just needs a little bit of your time.' So you're wrong on two counts, Seifer. I didn't want to help you; and you needed it. From me."
He clenched and unclenched his jaw, the paper in his hand thinning due to being repeatedly mangled. He wanted to yell, he wanted to drag her into the training centre and throw her to the monsters right this minute, but by the time his mind had taken a firm stance on wanting to do all these things she had already rounded the hall to the dormitories.
"Hey, where's Quistis headed off to?" a familiar voice cut into his murderous thoughts.
"Raijin," Seifer acknowledged him. "Who gives a damn where she's headed?"
"Well I was kind of hoping to run into her since I've been meaning to ask her about our project -"
"Project?" Seifer asked. "Why in the blue hell do you have to do a project with her?"
"She's nice, and she's pretty smart," Raijin answered, apparently not noticing the acid dripping off Seifer's every word that remotely concerned Quistis. "And she sits beside me -"
"In what!"
"Psych -"
"You sit psychology with Trepe?" Seifer asked his friend in outrage.
"You mean with Quistis? Yeah, I do," Raijin said casually.
"You never told me!"
"Why would I have to tell you?" he asked, genuinely confused. "Did you want to know her schedule?"
"Hyne no! It's just -" Seifer rubbed the back of his neck in tired frustration, then sighed, relenting. "Why is she a year back in psychology?"
Raijin shrugged. "Dunno, man. She started when she was ten, right? Maybe she didn't start young enough, ya know." When Seifer did not reply, instead choosing to look off into space, Raijin assumed he was waiting to hear more. "Anyway, it's due in two weeks and -"
"She'll get the marks just cause she's Trepe," Seifer concluded. "Why would you have to do anything?"
"Because she's my partner, ya know," Raijin said as though it were obvious.
"Pretty and smart?" Seifer repeated in disbelief. "You're an idiot."
"I said, 'pretty smart,' Raijin corrected. "Though now that you mention it -"
"Why don't you just start the fan club," Seifer suggested flatly.
"Umm...actually, there is -" Raijin stopped himself short. "Never mind."
"What!"
"Having a bad morning?"
"Shut up."
"Fujin is in the cafeteria, I was just coming to get you, ya know."
"Yeah."
"Misplaced anger, ya know. See? I know my psychology too."
Raijin received another nasty scowl in return. He shook his head in slight disbelief as the pair walked alongside one another towards the cafeteria, deciding it would be better not to press for any further information concerning Seifer's Mood.
.
.
So Miss Trepe has failed before...
Except that when she failed something the first time, she made sure it Never Happened Again. That applied to her first detention four years ago, and most likely would apply to her repetition of a required course. She'd pass it this time, with top marks. That was the rarely occuring cycle. Quistis would fail. Then she'd disappear into some sort of internal dark space for a short period, emerging as if nothing had happened, and be so successful in her second attempt that one would wonder how she'd failed the first time in the first place.
'How do I know this,' Seifer asked himself angrily. He rolled onto his back in his bed and stared up at the ceiling, crossing his arms. Quistis wasn't so flawless. He knew she wanted everyone to think being her required little to no effort but he wasn't so gullible.
He'd almost go as far as to wager money on it had there not been one glaring exception. One constant failure that she experienced at least twice a month. He didn't know whether or not she actually believed that the more calculated attempts she made, the more chance there was that Leonhart would actually give in.
Seifer reached his arms over his head and crushed his pillow over his ears, hoping it would drown out all the useless thoughts chugging along in his mind. Both of them... Trepe and Leonhart ... they represented everything he strived against – Leonhart, trying to keep to himself and block out the world and his own empty existence. A coward, who had no real aspirations other than to have a drab, meaningless life, but trained endlessly and excelled in combat, yet refused to take Seifer up on any of his challenges. Squall Leonhart had nothing to prove. Squall Leonhart had no purpose.
Then there was Quistis, with her awkwardness and restraint, her calculative nature and how she studied everything. Seifer didn't know a Quistis Trepe. He knew a pliable piece of clay that bent to everyones wishes, to what those around her would approve and praise, and Quistis as an artist of self-deception delighted in everyone's approval, brushing off all her study and rehearsal as 'the way she is'. Then there would come a time when she'd come across him and her plastic coating would wear thin. She'd shake and shout and desperately try to keep the color from rushing up her face, the fire from burning in her eyes – he smirked up at the ceiling – and try as she might to be a huge phony, a product off of an assembly line, he saw the Quistis Trepe that tried to throttle him when they were ten. Clearly, she was ashamed of that Quistis Trepe.
They should just get together then, Seifer thought with sudden amusement. Squall would be an anti-social loner and Quistis would sit alongside him in silence, opening her mouth every so often only to be silenced with a look. Later, she would tell her friends what a great date she had had, and they'd all sigh and tell her how lucky she was. She'd beam proudly and push whatever objections she really had deep into a place she didn't care to look.
Seifer groaned as he looked over at the clock on his bedside table and hit the wall with his forearm, unmindful of the light shuffling of his roomate on the other side. Perhaps he would have been better off just forgetting. Everyone else could just forget, but he always remembered.
He remembered with an unexpected and unwanted clarity the first time she fell into his arms. The memory left a bitter taste in his mouth, as most of them did, and no one else in this institution could dwell on memories quite the way he could.
"What a shame. You're back," he said to the girl as she descended towards him. He leaned back against the edge of the fountain's enclosure in Balamb Garden's atrium, crossing his arms in front of him. "I thought they were taking you back to whatever box you crawled out of."
Surprisingly, she glanced at him up and down with a far away look in her eyes, before straightening in what he supposed was recognition. He drew him self away from the wall at that point and supported his own weight, opposing her.
"Seifer Almasy," she greeted with a polite incline of her head. She looked around briefly, assessing her situation, and hung back, leaning against the side of the directory. "How have you been?"
"What?" he sniped, taking purposeful strides towards her. "You don't mean that, really," he said with conviction.
"Well, why wouldn't I?" she said, beginning to sound defensive. "You're a classmate of mine..."
"We're not like that – just reminding you."
There was a pause in which they surveyed one another. There she was, Quistis Trepe, analyzing him once again, memorizing his appearance, once again... there never should have been an again.
"Who am I?" he said when she wouldn't speak. "Seifer Almasy." He took great pleasure in watching her mouth his name along with his words. He made a motion as though to extend his hand, but instead drew it back slowly and stuffed it in his pocket.
"Your classmate ... no, your superior. Yeah. You came to this place two years ago, and got in my way. Have tried to ever since."
She glared daggers at him, like she always did, and he could see the gears in her head turning, like they always did – considering each word before she said it, thinking carefully and gauging his possible reactions. He hated those calculations computing endlessly in her head.
"So you did come back."
"I'm sorry you wasted the last ten minutes reminding me that we share a mutual dislike," she told him. "Should I excuse myself now or just walk away since that's 'what we are'."
"You're stupid for doing it," he said in a low voice.
"Sorry, but I'm not following," she snapped.
"I thought with all the time you spend reading and paying attention, you'd know better."
"Better than to what!"
He narrowed his eyes at her, willing her to recoil away from him, to be scared, or apprehensive. But no, she at least remembered that much...
"Forget it!" she said, straigtening and trying to remain aloof as possible, "I have better things to do than stand here and decode your riddles."
"You know what you did before you agreed to it! Why? Tell me!"
"Since you're asking so nicely..."
"So, in all seriousness Trepe, do you hate yourself that much?"
"What are you talking about!"
"Where did you head off to this morning, Trepe? Or did you forget already? Are you that weak?" he taunted, enjoying boasting his superior knowledge and grasp of the situation.
"I got to go onto the field and use a guardian force!" she told him, an unintended proud smile following. "I finally get to train with magic -"
"And now what?" he brushed her off. "Feeling good? Enjoying your newfound power? Because to me it looks like a slight breeze will knock you over."
"Since I read and study like you said earlier, I know that I should be feeling a bit tired and/or dizzy," she countered, glaring ferally. "I think they should add that idiots must be avoided during the recovery period -"
"Really? Then how would you deal with yourself, Trepe?" he said acidly. "I just want to know why. Because it's in the manual? It's what's expected of you? Because your mind doesn't matter -"
"It can't be free, Seifer, that's what I read! And whatever effects you're babbling on about – they haven't been one hundred percent proven yet!"
Seeing that her outburst hadn't swayed him or changed his visible stance in any way, she frustratedly let out a small huff of air. "Why do you even care? I heard – I heard that they won't even let you get near a guardian force.."
His expression tightened visibly at this, his jaw clenching. "I guess I just place a little more value on my mind than you do, Trepe."
"What for?" she whispered harshly. "What thoughts do you have that are so valuable? Besides how great you are – or how stupid I am, how much better you are than me?"
He opened his mouth to agree, or make a derisive comment, but she narrowed her eyes and raised a finger, signalling she wasn't quite finished.
"Sometimes people have to work a little harder for their power, Seifer Almasy," she said dangerously. She was beyond angry, he knew, but there was something else in her eyes – something... sincere? "You do, why else would you be requesting training for alternative energy-based magic techniques?"
"That's none of your -"
"And I'm none of your business!" she cut him off."What makes me so different that you had to single me out here today? I'm not the only one who - "
"You're not. That's exactly it, you're not different. You're not special, you're just another uniform, another number, another name on a list. Don't entertain the thought that you might be."
She was silent. If he looked carefully enough, he could have caught the split-second quiver of her shoulders. Her jaw was tense, lips pursed, and there it was, the telltale flush on her cheekbones offsetting the pale hue of her skin.
"Then I'm not," she said slowly, staring directly into his eyes. He had a fleeting desire to tell her to stop looking at him like that.
"I'm nobody – I'm nothing to forget. If that's - then maybe I want to – I should -"
She wavered on the spot, clenching and unclenching her fists. "I have to -" she began, and started to turn away, probably to get away from him, he thought. Her skin rapidly grew pallid, and he could see it through her eyes, whatever guardian force she had allowed into her mind, allowed to plow through her memories and take the ones it liked best...
The edges of her glasses poked uncomfortably into his chest as she fell against him, her breaths coming fast and the skin of her forehead clammy. "Yeah, you'll want to forget this," he said ruefully to her half-conscious form, and he felt her nails weakly dig into his arm in response. Her eyes narrowed, the action tired and meaningless, as she gave her remaining moments in the conscious world to glare at him.
Seconds later she was snatched from him by Instructor Holly and a few surrounding students, and she was shooting him a dark look as he not so gently untangled his hand from her hair. He painted on a smirk, wiping his hands off on his pant legs in an exaggerated motion.
He knew it was going to happen when he had upset her so soon after her initial junction. But it was her own fault. Trying to best him as she did – at least she had the bravery to even try – in his mind, she would always lose.
So she did come back... but she left some of herself behind. To borrow some power... of course – it was always about power. He looked up and around him, scowl in place, only to find that the hallway had cleared for the most part, and that the world indeed would not stop for him.
.
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The morning of the field exercises Quistis was surprised to find students already milling around their desks; usually she would be the one there earliest, seated quietly at her terminal checking for any new updates to the course webpages. Today, however, students were scattered about the room, with expressions ranging from terrified to arrogant. Two classes were combined for this particular exam, and the two instructors were standing at the front of the classroom, rifling through papers. Students continued to filter in at a steady rate until finally, a male and a female clad in SeeD uniform arrived and stood beside the doors.
Quistis half-listened to the instructors going over last minute explanations she'd already read a dozen times and instead took in the sight of the SeeDs at the front of the room. They were so disciplined, tall and just so official. Their entrance had brought a quiet hush to the crowd that allowed the instructors to call all attention to the front.
"Staring, Trepe?" somebody hissed behind her. Her chair jerked forward as what she guessed was that same person kicked the leg. Quistis chose not to react. With two classes in the room, everyone had just sort of found their own seat, but of course Seifer would sit behind her and kick her chair. She rolled her eyes.
Instructor Timea, an older woman that certainly did not let age keep her from staying in shape, was barking out instructions over the chatter that was slowly picking up.
"We will be forming groups of three-"
"Aww three? Come on!" someone shouted out.
"- and assembling in the main hall, where a SeeD member will give out your assignments and further direction. The groups are already chosen." She paused to let the groans and sighs dissipate. "Alphabetical order."
She knew at those words that she wouldn't be in Squall's group. (Not that she cared.) How far was T away from L? Eight letters or so? Absently, she turned her head and glanced in Squall's direction, her view heavily impeded by a dozen extra bodies in her way. Her chair jerked forward again, and she threw a quick glare at Seifer before turning back around.
"Adam, Anders, and Beata," Timea called out sharply. The three offending students stood and shuffled out the door. Quistis' head snapped up to the front of the classroom. Alphabetical order by first name? Maybe there was hope then, Q was only two letters away from S... and this wasn't exactly a massive class...
"Emmeline, Elliot, Fariha..." The sole male's friends, presumably, hooted and catcalled as he exited the class with the two females. Quistis sat stiffly in her chair, her heart thumping in her chest.
"Quistis, Raijin, and Seifer," the instructor's voice droned on. "Shayan, Squall, Trenten."
By this time Raijin had already stood and was waiting beside Quistis' desk where she sat, rooted to her chair, ever since the assignments had left the instructor's mouth.
"Hey," he nudged her ever so slightly, knocking her from her self-imposed mental escape. "Seifer's already gone down to the atrium, ya know?"
"You should have gone down too," she told him distantly.
"Well, I was gonna, but we're a team, so we all gotta be there. And I've been standing here for awhile, ya know? So I didn't think you were gonna come if Seifer or I didn't get ya. They're being real official with this, ya know? Or else Timea would have snapped already."
She gave him a wry smile. "Sorry."
He looked at her quizically as she stood up and walked briskly out of the room, lengthening her strides to match the taller boy's.
"Well, we're losing points, right? It's an exam."
Raijin didn't respond, instead quickening his pace as Seifer came into view. His back was towards them, and as they came closer, Quistis saw that he was standing with a girl in SeeD garb, however she wasn't looking as poised and disciplined as the SeeDs back in the classroom. In fact, her hands were fisted on her hips and she was glowering murderously.
"Shoebox!" Seifer was calling out in a singsong tone. "Shoebox Yuan!"
The SeeD Seifer was addressing shifted her weight, her almond shaped eyes hardening as they focused on him. Quistis was sure that he had that arrogant smirk smeared across his mouth, oddly comforted that she wasn't the only one that mere facial expression infuriated.
"This is unfair, Shoebox. They're letting you shape, mould and guide us?" Seifer said mockingly. "Can I request a different SeeD member? I fear for my safety."
"Believe me, the last thing I want to do this morning is babysit children while they let them run loose all over the world," she shot back. "I'm amazed they're letting you out without your leash on."
Upon closer inspection Quistis faintly recognized the girl. She'd seen her around Garden's hallways before, but the attitude, the general mockery of other's unfortunate accidents verified her image. She was the older cadet that had barged into Doctor Kadowaki's office years ago...
"Shoebox!" Seifer's voice rang through her thoughts of recollection. "Who'd you blow to get a SeeD uniform?"
"She's had it out for Seifer for as long as he can remember," Raijin said to Quistis in a low voice. "Even before I came to Garden she was always at his throat – it got better with time because Yuan wants to move up in rank... Seifer's not really one to uhh.. respect rankings, I guess that's the best way I can put it, ya know? I mean, well he wants the ranks," he backtracked, "but not for like, what they are, just kinda, for the authority, ya know?"
Quistis gave him an emphatic smile that he didn't notice due to the look of painful confusion on his face.
"I'm guessing 'Shoebox' isn't a term of endearment?" she whispered back, then stifled a giggle when Raijin shook his head with vigor.
"It's really Xu, but Seifer's called her Shoebox for as long as I can remember. Never explained it."
Quistis supposed their petty squabbling made sense. Xu, from what little Quistis had seen of her, wasn't exactly tolerant of idiocy and unfounded arrogance, and neither she nor Seifer were anything resembling patient. She took the time to look a little more closely at Xu. Her hair was cut, shorter now, calling attention to her sharp jawline and long neck.
"Hi there, Cadet Trepe. SeeD Xu Yuan," the subject of Quistis' thoughts greeted, her voice sounding like it was struggling to sound pleasant. Quistis wondered faintly if she recognized her. "You, Raijin and Seifer here are the green team." Xu reached for her arm and secured a green band around her wrist.
"Hey, SeeD Shoebox, I want to be looked at when I am being addressed," Seifer said lazily from Xu's right.
"Your team is going to Timber," she continued, ignoring him. "You'll need these -" she produced a small backpack and held it out to Seifer, then snatched it back and pushed it into Raijin's hands, " - for your exercise."
At this point she turned to face Seifer, grinning in a way that would unsettle Quistis if she were the recipient. "Ah, your exercise," she paused and took a moment to stretch, "which will be land surveying."
"What? We don't even get to fight anything?" Seifer near exploded.
"Why would you want to, Almasy?" Xu said nastily. "We both know what happens when you try to fight anything."
Quistis looked at Seifer curiously; he seemed to take quite a hit from those words. Again, she couldn't help but wonder.
"You should all know what the typical scouting entails," Xu continued in a businesslike manner, again addressing Quistis and Raijin and angled slightly away from Seifer. "I should probably let you guys take a copy of your texts with you, just because you poor, poor green team have to deal with such disadvantages... "
.
.
"So basically, we are assigned a square footage of this 'area', so professionally referred to as sector 2.3, or something official and cool sounding, we walk around it, take notes, pictures and descriptions, and return to the train at the designated time," Seifer said sullenly as he trudged a few steps ahead of his fellow team members.
Quistis semi-stared at Seifer's feet, referring to them only to know in what direction to follow him, their self-proclaimed 'leader'. It all seemed so long ago that Xu was not so subtly telling them they needed all the help they could get, for a task that seemed relatively simple. In actuality, any other standard group of students would have been happy to get this assignment as a field evaluation, but if this was the group she would be a part of, she had no idea what task they wouldn't find some inconceivable difficulty with. Her mind still fixed on the past, she remembered Squall grouping off with Trenten and Shayan, seeing him in the atrium with a mild-mannered SeeD and herded in the opposite direction away from her, Seifer and Xu's not-so-thinly veiled insults echoing distantly in her ears...
"Okay, so what's our assignment again?" she said aloud.
Raijin regarded her oddly. "We were just talking about it."
"Don't mind Trepe, she's still smarting over having an awful name like Quistis," he said nonchalantly. "She's regretting that her parents didn't name her Squistis."
"Quistis sounds fine," Raijin replied. "But Squistis? That's awful."
Seifer threw him a dumbfounded expression that his friend chose to ignore, instead turning to the subject of Seifer's previous barb.
"I think Quistis is a cool name," he assured her. "Don't know anyone else with anything even close – you okay?"
"Mmm-hmm," she murmured, her chin lowered uncharacteristically. Seifer turned around at this, his expression growing into one of delight.
"Embarassed, Trepe?" he asked her. "Come on, be proud. You should proclaim your feelings of love to the world. There's always some people who'd root for you, sad as it is."
"Shut up," Quistis said, raising her head and glaring at him despite the embarassed flush that flared across her cheeks.
He smiled, looking quite satisfied with himself, and turned around again, leading his group.
"Umm, so you like Squall?" Raijin muttered after a stretch of silence interrupted only by the crunch of the dirt underneath their feet. "I mean, it's not a big deal, ya know, just err- I wouldn't have thought that," he added quickly, sensing her immediate irritation.
"How do you -" she began, then opted for a calmer sounding voice. "No. I mean I don't know." She stopped herself from throwing her arms up in the air. "He's a nice person," she whispered back briskly. "And that's the truth." Well, a partial truth, she admitted in her head. It wasn't as though she was being dishonest. Raijin could be a decent human being, on his own, and while she could probably feel comfortable sharing troublesome thoughts with him, the fact that he had a solid friendship with Seifer prevented any real trust they could share.
"You guys enjoying discussing the assignment?" Seifer's irritated voice cut through their hushed conversation. "Because I'd like to finish this two-bit operation quickly and easily please."
"There is a purpose to the things we have to accomplish here, you know," Quistis said tiredly, already thoroughly frustrated at her own failed analysis of her current fascination with Squall Leonhart.
"Pointless busy work in an assimilated town," Seifer countered. "You probably think it's so Garden can train us in surveying land and making a map, but more street savvy people would know that there are some bullshit meetings and political what-have-you going on while we're here, and real reconnaisance scouting."
"Why the politics here?" Quistis found herself asking. "Garden doesn't get involved in this sort of stuff – we learned that."
"They're oppressing the people here," Seifer said in a tone that suggested she was stupid for not knowing this already. "They don't want to be occupied by Galbadia."
"Well, they're helping them," Quistis replied, sounding mildly argumentative. "They're giving them technology and making them accessible to the rest of the world -"
"Well they don't want that -"
"They don't want that now, but they'll see in time that the benefits outweigh -"
"It wasn't asked for -"
"Why do you have to interrupt me all the time -"
"Because you wouldn't have to keep talking if I tell you what's right -"
"So you're supposed to tell me what's right?" she snapped, her eyes flashing. "I don't need to, you know, read the news or watch television, I just have to ask you what's going on and how to feel about it."
He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh and rested his hand on the handle of his gunblade. "Who makes the news, Trepe?"
"Oh, so here we go again with more of your conspiracy theories," she said, throwing a hand up in the air. "Just keep throwing the stupid pins down and shut up."
"Just like how we're going on with making this stupid map," he continued, her growing irritation seeming to energize him. "You go on and make this stupid map for your beloved Garden and just ignore everything else going on in the world until Garden news informs you of current events."
"This Garden you speak so ill of is the place you and I grew up in! How could you be so -"
He stopped walking suddenly, so fast that Quistis nearly bumped into him. She opened her mouth to snipe at him but he was first.
"Try thinking for yourself for once."
"What are you talking about! Who would think for me?"
"Is it so hard to grasp, Trepe, that some people would prefer say, a simpler way of life, perhaps keeping to their old ways?"
"No, it's not, and we're way beyond that now," Quistis snapped. "This has turned into a nice roundtable discussion on your general unpleasantness."
"What if I told you that if you let me sit in your brain and suck up all your unique and coherent thought s, I'd grant you, in some messed up way, the ability to throw magic spells around like some sort of witch?"
He smiled rather grimly at her.
"Why are you always going on about that?" she began. "Seriously, it's been years now, and every chance you get you always have to bring it up. I'm not the only one that's ever junctioned a guardian force, for Hyne's sake!"
Seifer had already turned around with a grunt and was taking intentionally large strides ahead of her. "Whatever you say -"
"Wait!"
Quistis whipped her head around at the rustling sounds around them in the clearing, maneuvering herself backwards and motioning Raijin closer. She started when somebody grabbed her wrist.
"Seifer it's me, you idiot," she hissed, wrenching her hand away.
"You don't just bump into someone from behind and expect me not to react," he replied, opting for glaring ahead of him instead of risking turning around.
It happened so quickly that all three students could barely prepare themselves to ready their weapons. A tall, large, armoured figure lunged from the shadows between the tree trunks and loomed over Quistis' smaller form. Staring up at him determinedly, she saw the newcomer motion to someone behind her; he had to have at least one other companion.
"So, the Forest Rodents, or whatever you call yourselves are employing children?" The voice was muffled behind the grated mouth guard on his helmet, but the fact that it dripped with disdain was not missed. He shook his head slowly as his comrade came into Quistis' view.
"Doesn't matter, you know our orders. All dissenters." The second guard cocked his head towards the young cadets and motioned to his friend, who nodded in response and began advancing on the three.
Seifer immediately drew his gunblade so quickly Quistis could have swore he produced it out of thin air. "You can't arrest us," he said curtly. Quistis looked from the guard to Seifer and her hand itched to reach out and smack him upside the head.
"You just drew your weapon at a city official," the soldier corrected him. "So yes, we can arrest you."
"You're not an official of this city," Seifer countered, his weapon held eerily still straight out in front of him. Quistis could see the sweat on his brow and his knuckles turning white from his grip. "Last I heard your presence was not requested in this town."
"Sorry kid," the soldier responded. "But word has it that there's a resistance movement about – and the higher ups aren't taking any chances -"
"Please!" Quistis cut in before she could stop herself. "We're just students on a field exam! From Balamb Garden! Surely you must have been informed about this by your superiors!"
The taller of the soldiers paused, shouldering his rifle in mock-contemplation. "Yeah, we were informed."
Quistis straightened in front of the man and tried to look determined.
"We were informed that all Garden students in the area would be identifiable by coloured wristbands."
Quistis looked around quickly at Seifer and Raijin wrists, releasing a breath of relief she hadn't known she'd been holding. Then, she looked to her own bare wrist. Feeling frozen in place, she slowly looked up at the Galbadian soldier in front of her.
"I don't think all of you are wearing Garden wristbands are you?" the guard said with a sneer, inching closer to her with every word.
"Hey!" Seifer spoke up suddenly, moving forward in front of Quistis, still brandishing his gunblade. "It's right there on the ground. It accidentally ripped off!"
Without a word, the shorter guard moved quickly to bring his fist down into Seifer's wrist, causing his blade to fall unceremoniously to the ground. Raijin shuffled forward automatically to help his friend, but was grabbed by the scruff by the larger guard, who immediately pointed the barrel of his gun at Quistis' nose.
"You," the soldier snarled at the largest of the three students, shaking him for emphasis. Quistis stole a glance at Raijin's face, contorted into a furious glare the likes of which she'd never seen. "You are to report to Garden."
"Not without the rest of my team!" Raijin spat back, his hands quivering. Quistis could tell he was struggling to control his anger and wasn't going to hold on much longer. She caught his eye and she could almost feel his rage. Mouthing a silent 'no', she reluctantly returned to staring down the gun in her face.
"The rest of your team are potential terrorists," the Galbadian continued silkily, and he tilted Quistis' chin with the gun's barrel towards Seifer, who was face down on the ground being handcuffed, the green wristband nowhere to be seen.
"You three could be impersonating Garden cadets," he carried on, "with counterfeit identification."
He let go of Raijin's collar and pushed him backward. "You'll be brought to the station to contact Balamb Garden. Until then -"
Quistis didn't scream or make a sound as a bag of some sort was thrown over her head and everything became black. Her heart may have stopped for a moment, but if it did, she didn't notice.
.
.
It was true what Quistis had read about the senses. If one got taken away, the others became more pronounced. With her sight a black cloth, and her hands tied behind her back, the world was the musty scent of diesel fuel and mouldy upholstery. Taste was the damp spot on the cloth bag where her breath fell, and the only sound in her ears was muffled laughter, tires rolling on sand and a soft breeze that did nothing to alleviate the beating down of the humid heat on her shoulders.
Then her head was pulled back, and the new air that flowed up her nostrils was metallic and smelled of despair. She fell clumsily onto a cold surface, her feet not knowing where to place themselves or what direction they were going. The room swam slowly into focus as she took slow, deep breaths, squinting at a lone droplet of water on the top corner of the metal wall that slowly trailed downward, past a similarly shaped rust stain, stopping as it hit the ground.
Another thump sounded from behind her, and she turned her head from her position face down on the ground. The echo of a heavy door closing reverberated through the room, giving way to silence.
"Seifer?" she croaked, her throat dry.
The person beside her shifted, a low grunt confirming his identity.
"Are you okay?"
There was a shuffle as Seifer pushed himself to his feet, standing up quickly and promptly sitting on the bench nailed to the wall, his legs giving out on him. Quistis smirked but turned her face away, moving to a seated position on the floor.
"So between us three, the biggest, and most dim one is the one that gets away?" Seifer asked to the otherwise empty cell. "Irony at its finest."
His fellow prisoner made a noise of distaste from the opposite wall. "Isn't he your friend?"
"Doesn't mean he can't also be an idiot," Seifer replied, stretching his arms over his head and tapping his foot restlessly.
"I think it's more ironic that the one who boasts all day about being so high and mighty is the one that landed us in here in the first place," Quistis retorted with an unelegant snort. "Sorry, I meant moronic."
"Blaming it on me, are you? As far as I remember, they grabbed us both. And were going for you."
"I know we both ended up here," Quistis said flippantly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "But when they questioned us, who kept yelling like a madman and threatening everyone, even after they had knocked your weapon away!"
"You call that questioning?" Seifer said in disbelief. "They use violent force, I'm allowed to retaliate -"
"That violates the protocol we cover in class, Seifer, maybe that's why you're repeating -"
"Of course, the protocol," Seifer spoke over her loudly. "Hyne forbid we break the rules of the protocol!"
"So what, you want a world where everyone does whatever they want and theres no order or law to prevent horrible crimes or – or inhumane acts? You want to be able to just attack the government's soldiers whenever you deem fit?"
"When did I say that!"
"You just said -"
"Yeah, I was talking abou the protocol, genius," he sneered. "So basically, everyone that doesn't adhere to whatever rules you deem to be the right ones is in favour of the destruction of the world? We should just lay down and let the powers that be rule us?"
"I'm pretty sure the world as ruled by you comes to mind when I think of chaotic things."
"There's no wood around, so I'll knock-on-metal instead," Seifer said with a knowing look, rapping on the wall soundly.
A loud clanging rose by the doorway, and a pair of dark beady eyes appeared in the barred peephole in the door.
"Hey, law-breakers, mind keeping it down in there? I don't like having to mess with children. I gots some at home and I won't sleep well at night."
Quistis half-expected Seifer to get up and taunt the warden, an unwise choice as he was on the wrong side of that door to be expecting any warm welcomes once it opened. But instead, he smirked at her.
"Hear that?"
"What?" she asked, annoyed.
"You're a law-breaker," he informed her. "I believe breaking the law is somewhere in the protocol. Under section, 'do this and you're bad.' Delinquent."
She narrowed her eyes at him.
"The law is there for a reason."
He rolled his eyes at her.
"So you think they were right to throw us in here?"
"We could just be in a holding cell for -"
"D-District prison is for political prisoners, Squistis," Seifer cut in smoothly. "And you know that. So stop pretending . . . that you don't know, I mean."
She turned away from him, uncomfortable with him staring at her, and hugged one knee to her chest.
He sat up again, resting his elbows on his knees and observing her once more. "So if, say, the government's army is currently in place in a town named, say, Timber -" he paused to look meaningfully at her, however her eyes were determinedly fixed at a spot somewhere by his left foot. "And there's word going round' that certain individuals weren't too pleased with the situation, is the army right to arrest students out on a fun school field trip on the suspicion that they might be a part of this 'revolt'?"
"My band ripped off, okay?" she responded monotonously. "Garden students have bands, and I was missing mine. It's my fault -"
"You can't possibly believe that!" Seifer interrupted, his temper flaring. "They knew, Trepe, and we learn this in the protocol you love and cherish. Corruption exists. So does political unrest. They want to send a message." He slammed his fist against and wall and lay down on the bench on his back, staring at the ceiling.
"Then I'm sorry for believing in something," Quistis said to the tense atmosphere around them.
Of course she would apologize.
"Believe what they teach you then, Trepe."
"Garden encourages free-thinking you know -"
"Hyne, stop! You're already sounding like a Garden pamphlet – that is, if written by Raijin," Seifer said exasperatedly. "Maybe there is something to his ridiculous crush."
Her mouth dropped open a little bit at this. "His – his crush?"
Seifer rolled him eyes. "Oh come on, you saw how he looked back at you."
"At you," she corrected him. "You're his friend too, and I am in awe at how someone like you ever managed that."
"Someone like me, huh?" he repeated, his eyes glazing over with mild anger. "And you're such a prize yourself. What's there to like, tell me. I'm dying to know."
Quistis opened and closed her mouth several times, her mind rapidly sifting through everything she had learned so far about enemies, interrogations, breaking a jawbone or kneecap or anything that would either make him shut up or not have to converse with him any longer.
Unfortunately, they were stuck in a jail cell together and that was the only sure thing in the immediate future.
"Well, I guess there's the fact that you're awfully talented at kissing ass."
"It's called manners, something you've never heard of -"
"And then there's that habit you have of poking your nose into everyone's business. Remember what happened to the cat, Trepe."
"If I didn't tell the administration about your stupid fight club -"
"It's not my club and why didn't you just rat on the other oh – thirty or so members?"
"I only caught you."
"And it's as simple as that." His eyes moved skyward once again.
"And that's supposed to mean?"
"Do you prefer to see things in black and white?"
"Answering a question with a question," Quistis sighed. "Evasive technique."
"You seem like an it is or it isn't type of person, Squistis," Seifer continued as if she hadn't spoken. "For example, yes I did attend a Balamb fight club meeting, which isn't allowed, and is punishable. And you caught me, and reported me, even if I was trying to find that idiot Anferney who forgot his insulin."
A catlike smirk developed across his face as he watched Quistis intently. She refused to meet his eyes.
"I guess you don't get it Trepe," he said with a mock sigh, slumping over on the metal bench. "It is or it isn't."
"Are you happy now?" Quistis said suddenly, stiffening against the wall.
"Question for question, Trepe? Well, why should I be?" he said lazily, raising an eyebrow.
"You just seem like... like you'll never be happy unless someone else isn't," she said after some hesitation, try as she might to make it look like a dramatic pause.
He looked almost as if he was considering her words. "Is that what you think Trepe?"
She pursed her lips, nodding slowly.
He shrugged and turned away.
"If we're going to be petty, Trepe," he said finally, stretching and folding his arms against his chest. "Fuujin told me you had a lisp," Seifer moodswung to positively giddy, and in any other circumstance she would have wondered if the boy was capable of such joy. Of course he was, she reminded herself bitterly. He's happy he's found more material with which to test her theory. He's probably just been waiting for the opportunity to bring up this little tidbit of information. "I knew I heard something weird in your speech sometimes – who would have thought? Quithtith Trepe couldn't thpeak properly when thee wath jutht a little girl."
"Is it so hard to believe?"
"I suppose not. Clearly you're ashamed of it."
"Since you seem to have an affinity for people with strange speech patterns then why aren't we the best of friends?"
He looked at her for a long moment, and Quistis found herself longing for a glass of water. From what she could recall in her recent memory, she hadn't been forced to talk so much in her life. Seifer, on the other hand, seemed to love the sound of his own voice.
"Maybe you're right, Trepe."
A thick blanket of silence fell from the ceiling and rested itself uncomfortably around the pair, moreso Quistis, for Seifer did not all look disturbed by what he had just suggested.
"Cards?" she offered, as she had recently discovered silence between her and Seifer was potentially dangerous and led to strange revelations.
"Don't tell me that you brought that set with you," Seifer said with a hint of amusement in his voice as she procured a stack of Triple Triad cards from seemingly nowhere.
"No," she said with a half-scowl of her own. "The guard slipped them through the bars while we were having our pleasant conversation earlier." Her hands were moving quickly, seperating the cards into stacks and shuffling them effortlessly between her fingers. He tried not to let his surprise show.
"Prison rules?" Seifer suggested with a raised eyebrow.
"And what would those be?" she inquired distractedly, counting out equally-sized, perfectly piled stacks and gently nudging one towards him.
"Well, there would be gil involved, and if I win, I would make you my – err – prison wife," Seifer said casually as he evaluated his hand. "Could involve tattoos too."
Quistis shot him a look that showed how unimpressed she was, throwing down her first card on the mat.
.
.
In the middle of the fifteenth round of best of seven with newly invented rules such as three second card fondling violations, blind pick with stare down, and speed round, Quistis was beginning to think Seifer had given up on trying a long time ago, and was simply trying to create ways to make fun of her. She had seemed to rack up alot of card fondling fouls on monster cards that he felt shared attributes with Squall, though she doubted that Vysage's right hand slap reminded her of Squall's best combat technique.
"Why do you hate me?" she asked slowly, delibrately.
He lifted his suddenly heavy gaze to her, finding that she kept hers on the ground between them, the cards still strewn about the floor.
"What?"
"Did I stutter?" she ground out, still staring at the cards.
"My, my, Quistis Trepe," he said in that manner of superiority he always used when speaking to her. "Don't get all ladylike with me now."
"I win," she said softly, but he didn't miss the pleased look that crossed her lips.
"Don't be so modest," he shot at her, the sarcasm all too evident in his voice. "I don't know why you act like everything is a fluke for you – like you're not the only one putting their hands up to answer a question, or you guessed all the answers to the multiple choice and it just happened to come out perfect."
She looked at him then, finally, lazily observing him from beneath her eyelashes. "To brag would be arrogant."
"To act like it was nothing is self-deprecating," he answered instantly. "You make your own effort look like garbage –"
"And your lack thereof?" she cut in.
"I know you don't just stare at the blanks and watch the answers fill themselves in," he snapped. "Then you get everyone fawning over you, giving you praise, and you just do your little bow and curtsey and say 'it was nothing,' or 'I could have done better,' so that they fall ass over shoulder to assure you, over and over, of how good you are. Hyne, you're worse than Squall."
"How, do tell, am I anything like Squall!" she demanded.
"If I told you that, it'd only make you happy," he said derisively. "And by your oh-so-scientific theory, Dr. Trepe, that would make me miserable, since the only way I can find fulfilment is through other people's misfortunes."
"Do you hate Squall because of me?" she shot at him, laying her cards down and bracing her hands on her knees.
"Don't even start," Seifer all but snarled, "when you weren't even here from the beginning - "
"But it's something, right? It has something to do with it?" she pressed, leaning forward as she gained momentum. "Please tell me it's not anything to do with jealousy, Almasy?" she said slyly, tilting her head.
Seifer had moved down from the bench to sit on the floor opposite her during their game, but now leaned down to her level and locked his eyes with hers.
"I'm not jealous of Leonhart. And I'm definitely not jealous of you," he said evenly. He caught the miniscule twitch of her brow and her teeth closing lightly on the tip of her tongue, actions that even she did not notice.
"The answer is no," he said flatly, looking at his cards and throwing one down to the mat. "I know your act Trepe. And that's all it is, an act. But I'll give you some credit, because Leonhart doesn't have the time or intelligence to deceive everyone around him. He knows what he is and what he isn't. You, on the other hand, are worse because you're ashamed of yourself and your flaws. You can't be happy with yourself. I can't hate you Trepe, you do it for me."
Quistis drew a card with a shaking hand and let it almost float downward towards the mat.
"Like you don't have one?" she countered, incensed. "Like you don't act."
"Do I?" he asked casually. Her voice was rising in pitch, her throat sounding parched.
"Entitled – superior – high and mighty – like everyone has wronged you or owes you something."
His jaw clenched but he smirked at her anyway. "Acting?"
"Maybe if you were polite, or decent or even tried to be remotely civil to those you didn't deem worthy everyone wouldn't write you off as a big asshole!" she spat, her fingers twitching towards him. "And as for everything else - you don't know that, how could you know that," she finished in a whisper.
Seifer frowned. Tell her how you've seen her, an annoying voice in the back of his head that sounded oddly like Raijin's taunted him. You've seen her pouring over books in the library for hours when she missed a definition on a pop quiz – and in the training centre grinding away because her combat instructor criticized her technique, until someone reported her for curfew. At the crack of dawn she was running laps in the courtyard because she had added a half second to her sprint since the previous week, and after class she was always clarifying everything she'd learned that day with the instructor. Tell her that's how you know.
"Is this you, Trepe? The real Trepe?" he taunted her instead. "Are we having fun with psychoanalysis yet? Does the real Quistis Trepe use curse words and own up to having no interests outside of studying – although she does seem to enjoy a good card game? Cause' I think the real Quistis Trepe enjoys kicking my ass in cards right now – she wants to backhand me for getting in her head. I think she regrets cracking because now she's exposed – she knows the real Quistis Trepe wouldn't be so lauded at Garden, while good-for-a-detention Seifer Almasy will get crucified for this mishap."
She had one card left, currently twirling it between her fingers too fast for him to make out what it was.
Meeting his eyes, she threw it down, and every card against it flipped to her colour. He looked incredulously from the mat to her face, which was twisted into a triumphant grimace, if such a thing existed.
"I win," she said through gritted teeth. "Kneel at my feet."
"So there she is," Seifer said, his mouth slowly curving into a grin. "Telling me to bow to her. But when this is all over – you'll find out soon enough."
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ATTN: Miss Quistis Trepe
ID: 90067
Dear Miss Trepe,
We are pleased to inform you that as a result of your performance on the annual field evaluation, your instructors have unanimously granted you passage to all Tier 5 courses. Should all remaining prerequisites be completed by the start of the spring term, you will be eligible to apply for next year's SeeD Field Exam.
Warm Regards,
Academic Administration
.
.
NOTES/ Geez, sorry that took so long. I've never in my life written a chapter so long and this was the chapter that Refused To Be Written. As for the characters... I'll admit I'm taking some liberties... there's still plenty of time before I get to when the game starts...(even though some parts of this just make me feel like punching myself in the face - and anyone who knows me as a writer knows I'm my own number one hater so I'm taking it easy on myself for the most part. Spelling/Grammar errors are probably abound... I was going to gouge my eyes out reading this OVER AND OVER and still finding them. Got lazy. So I guess I can't spel eithur. Human Knot is an icebreaker game w here you stand in a circle and clasp hands with people opposite you, then try to untangle yourselves into a circle. I don't own anything. As always, thanks for coming~