DISCLAIMER: Seifer, Quistis and co ain't mine. The board members and Jonah are, but I don't think I could make any money outta them.
A/N: A shout-out to everyone who's read and reviewed this story so far. Thanks, guys. It's great to know I've got people reading this from the very beginning. A few clarifications for this chappy can be found in the forum, so if there's anything that makes you go 'Huh?' in this chapter, read through what I've posted there, and then direct any further queries there as well. Just to remind you, the forum for this fic has the same title as the story.
A great many thanks to Alonia Everclear and her classic Seiftis Requiem for an Eternal Soldier, for reminding me that older FFs used to classify magic as Black, White and Blue. Spellcasters in said games were called mages, but since we already had Sorceresses in FF8, I decided to go with mages for Blue magic, which only makes an appearance in the game as Quistis's Limit Break.
Enjoy!
Chapter 2: Tabula Rasa
"No matter how cleverly you sneak up on a mirror,
your reflection always looks you straight in the eye."
– Louis Cyphere, 'Angel Heart (1987)'
Fame was a strange thing. Fascinating, and at times either terrifying or straight-out insane.
"You're not really famous until you're a BEZ dispenser," Selphie had wisely said once. "Either that or a Triple Triad card."
The fate of having her likeness immortalized on a candy dispenser, she had mercifully avoided. But the card...?
Quistis Trepe, a renowned Triple Triad enthusiast, had been utterly shocked to see her own blue eyes staring back at her in that fabled game with Dr. Kadowaki a few months ago. Apparently, she was the very last person who had been informed of this, as when she rushed over to share the discovery with her friends and fellow colleagues, that tidbit of information was already old news.
The only one who seemed to share her frustration was Squall; Rinoa had ever since taken a great liking to the game. She was notorious within the walls of Garden for playing with an almost full stack of laminated Squall cards.
The stoic Commander had not been impressed.
It was on her -their, rather- unexpected rise to celebrity status the moment the war had ceased that Quistis Trepe's thoughts were now wandering, as she sat into the comfortable chair of the board room. It was that very status that had dragged her from her –albeit mobile- home to the neutral grounds of Kaveria, Centra today. Aside from her regular duties as a SeeD, she was more than often forced to attend meetings such as the upcoming one to represent Balamb Garden's side in the Garden Council, along with the official Chief Rep, who was rather enjoying her new position.
Selphie Tilmitt.
Could there have been anyone else more fitting for the position?
Selphie was everything Garden needed as far as representation went: she was polite, cheerful, eager to work hard, and when she made an effort to downplay the Hippy Killing Machine act, she made a very good public speaker.
On the other hand, Quistis was still wondering why on earth she had been deemed worthy to attend this meeting. Granted, she could acknowledge that she had the proper eloquence to address such an audience and had a good understanding of how politics functioned, but she could still think of much better candidates.
"Could it be any hotter in here?" Selphie whispered into Quistis's ear with a huff, fanning herself with her palm. "It's Centra, for crying out loud. You'd think they wouldn't be cheapskates when it came to air conditioning. The hotel, I get, but what's their excuse?" Selphie went on, and began to rummage through her purse. "Energy conservation, my ass..."
Quistis calmly sipped her now almost lukewarm water. When it had been brought before her, three shiny ice-cubes had been floating on the surface; they had melted within milliseconds. It was indeed very hot, as it always was in Centra, even during November. She couldn't blame her friend for pulling her outrageously expensive Esthari fan -a gift from Laguna- out of her bag. Still, she wished they would stop drawing attention to themselves before the start of the meeting. The rest of the Garden representatives were now giving the two women furtive glances.
Just when the patience of every attendant was beginning to grow dangerously thin, the door opened and everyone rose to their feet, Selphie still crankily fanning herself. Quistis tactfully took her friend's hand and lowered it down.
Rizo Van Helgon, the honorary head of the council, had entered the room followed by his personal assistant. Quistis had only heard about the man fleetingly in the past, mostly tales about his aristocratic air, and she could now fully appreciate the truth to be found in said rumors. Van Helgon appeared to have seen a battle or two in his days, his face marred with a few battle scars that his grayish beard didn't quite cover up. He was the proud owner of a sturdy, burly physique and was blessed with rather imposing height. The simple silver spectacles framing his pale blue eyes, and his strict facial features meant business. It was rather difficult to imagine that such a man would carry himself with any measure of grace, and yet he made his way towards the top seat of the oval table and took a seat with unexpected poise.
He gave Quistis the distinct impression she was staring at a mirror image of Squall, give a couple of decades on his back. And a pot belly. The visual almost made her grin.
"Please be seated," Van Helgon said in his baritone voice. The young brunette who had followed him into the room handed him a binder she had hastily opened to the first page. It couldn't have been more obvious that she was brand new and was trying her damndest to please Van Helgon. "I trust there are no absences? I'd like to get started as soon as possible."
A man from across the table whom Quistis vaguely recognized stood up. Van Helgon looked at him over the rim of his glasses. "SeeD Caradoc Cole, rank twenty three, Galbadia Garden representative," said the man, introducing himself. "I'm afraid my partner has been caught up in Trabia for reasons beyond his control. However, he should be arriving shortly; he contacted me an hour prior to your arrival and said he was already on his way," Cole explained. "However, I can represent Galbadia's side for the time being, so we can commence with your permission."
Behind the oval table, quick typing could be heard as Van Helgon's assistant kept the record of what was being said in the meeting.
"Very well," Val Helgon said, shifting his attention to the binder again. "Is Trabia's side present?"
"Present, your honor. Veteran SeeD Camaliel Atney, rank A," said the male counterpart of the Trabia side, rising. Quistis took his appearance in; she knew Atney, alright. Former soldier gone politician, gone soldier again. Short for a man, and if memory served right, he used to be much more portly, but recent events in his life had given him reason to shed many a pound and more gray hair than a man his age should have. "And SeeD Officer Calypso Julianni, rank twenty nine," he concluded, introducing the significantly younger woman who was accompanying him.
"Balamb?"
Quistis hastily smoothed the front of her SeeD uniform, rising. "SeeD Officers Quistis Trepe and Selphie Tilmitt, rank A. Present, your honor."
"Esthar?"
"SeeD Sarutobi Juno, rank A," spoke a young woman who had now risen from her seat. Quistis remembered the girl all too well from the time she had spent in Galbadia Garden herself. The other woman was a fine soldier, but Quistis had to wonder if her tendency to be biased had changed over the years. Hopefully, it had. "And SeeD Vodan Osric, rank A. Present, your honor," she finished.
"And Galbadia," Val Helgon finished with a nod at Cole's direction, making sure that every name on the census had been accounted for. "Now, over to the issues at hand…" Val Helgon began, readjusting his glasses and flipping over to the second page of the binder. "Let the record note that the sixth Garden Council meeting has commenced on November 19th, 4999 M.G. at exactly 1000 hours…"
"Rinoa, take a break. This is the second time in five minutes I've heard your stomach growl in agony," Dr. Kadowaki said with a chuckle, as she rearranged the medicine bottles Rinoa kept handing her.
The young Sorceress gave a little jerk, looking up at the physician almost guiltily. "No, no! It's perfectly fine, we have a lot of work to do and—"
"And you have already done far too much," the doctor interrupted her. "You opened up this morning, working alone for nearly two hours before I showed up. You deserve a nice, long break. Not to mention some food."
Rinoa Heartilly bit her lip hesitantly, hugging the binder she was holding close to her chest. There was no denying she was terribly hungry. Inventory day was never particularly fun, but since she had decided to take up this apprenticeship, she was determined to help the doctor with everything that needed to be done.
Being a Sorceress within the walls of an institution that was trained to kill people like her was already far too awkward a situation. Dating the Commander of said force while roaming around the corridors with nothing to do all day was bound to raise murmurs and whispers behind her back over what possible use she was being to this Garden.
She hadn't dared share her worries with any of her friends, not even Squall, fearing that they, too, might grow to resent her at some point for living a life of no responsibilities.
Be that luck, destiny, or whatever one might wish to call it, Dr. Kadowaki had crossed paths with the young woman during a particularly bad day and had listened patiently. When Rinoa's rambling and tears had been spent, the doctor had offered her a job. A position to help the Garden that had taken her in.
"You're a Sorceress, Rinoa," Dr. Kadowaki told her. "A very powerful one, at that."
"But I could never be trained as a SeeD. It goes against everything the Garden stands for," Rinoa said with a shake of hear head. "And against many things I stand for."
"There are other ways you can help Garden."
"Like what?"
"How would you like to start an apprenticeship in the Infirmary?" the doctor suggested with a smile. "I think it would suit you. Not to mention gifted field medics are very rare; Garden is in desperate need of more of them."
Rinoa stared at her for a long, silent moment, her bloodshot eyes wide. "Me? A Healer? I… I don't know… I'm not sure I—"
"Like I said, you're a very powerful Sorceress," Kadowaki cut in. "Granted, you're a Black Sorceress if you want to get technical, but your ability to use White Magic still surpasses that of all SeeDs in here. You remind me more of a Blue Mage, to be frank. Not a full-fledged one, but a very decent one nonetheless."
"A… Blue Mage?"
"Blue Mages are technically Sorceresses as well," Dr Kadowaki explained. "Very rare, very misjudged. They're able casters of both White and Black Magic on an equal level."
"That's interesting, I don't think I've ever heard of one."
"Well, no, you wouldn't have. There hasn't been one in centuries," Dr. Kadowaki had gone on. "Still, every now and then, a gifted caster might consider following the path of Blue Magic, whether they're Sorceresses or not. Very few actually manage to make it to a decent level, much less master the ability, but there have been a few good examples."
Rinoa took a minute to think about this, her forehead creasing in curiosity. "You mean like Quistis?"
Kadowaki nodded, smiling. "You undeniably surpass Quistis in the field of Black Magic, but even though she's not a Sorceress herself, her White Magic is… phenomenal, for someone not born with the gift. But seeing as I couldn't possibly take her away from Garden's forces, I am relieved that there's at least one able Healer within our highest ranks. And I would be even more relieved and happy to know there could be two."
Rinoa let out a tiny smile at the compliment, hugging her knees and realizing that this was perhaps the first time someone had –albeit indirectly- told her she was needed. "So… you think I could make it? Become a field medic?"
"I do," the doctor said, smiling still. "Since SeeDship is not written in the books for you, you could serve as Garden's resident physician, once I retire. I don't think I have many years left on my back."
"B-but," Rinoa spluttered. "I'm not a doctor! Sure, I can do magic, but—"
"You're right; you're not. And I'm not trying to train you as one. There are a few things you should learn about anatomy and which medicine to prescribe for some situations where magic is not needed, but I'm fairly certain Garden could always hire a certified doctor to assist you on more complicated cases. My own spellcasting has seen better days, I'm afraid, and there's only so much one can do with traditional medicine when it comes to wounds that originate from magic."
Rinoa nodded, understanding what the doctor was trying to say. She wasn't a doctor, and would never be one, but she could make something of herself as a Healer. She wouldn't be getting in everyone's way, and she could finally prove she could be equal to them… Provide services to the Garden she had become a resident of so effortlessly.
"Well…?"
The young Sorceress straightened up, giving Dr. Kadowaki one of her beaming smiles. "I'll do it."
"Are you sure?" Rinoa asked, biting her lip still. "I wouldn't want to take off when we have so much—"
"We're almost done here; I can finish up on my own," Dr. Kadowaki insisted. "Go get some food and some rest. I'm sure Squall could use a lunch break, too. Don't get me wrong; I love it that you're so willing to help, but you must remember to take it easy. Squall is being a bad influence on you," she added with a smirk.
Rinoa giggled and checked off the last few crates of Elixirs that had been accounted for, before handing her binder to Dr. Kadowaki. "Alright, then. I'll be back around two pm," she said, starting to remove her white lab coat.
"Don't you have an appointment with Edea today?" Kadowaki asked.
Aside from her apprenticeship in the Infirmary, Rinoa had regular training sessions with the former Sorceress in order to learn to control her magic properly and use it to its full potential without wearing herself out.
"Not today," Rinoa replied, folding her coat neatly. "Matron called me this morning and said she had some business to attend to, so we've rescheduled for Wednesday," she added with a shrug.
"Two pm it is, then. Enjoy your lunch."
"Bacon-lettuce sandwich and Motorade?" Rinoa asked, removing the hair-band that had kept her hair up in a ponytail all morning.
"Pardon?"
"I'm asking what I should order for you from the cafeteria," Rinoa said with a grin.
Kadowaki laughed, somewhat impressed that Rinoa had noticed she did tend to make the same order every Monday for lunch. "That sounds good," the doctor said, smiling. "Thank you."
"I'll tell them to make it quick," Rinoa said, already making her way towards the door of the infirmary. "Your stomach has been protesting ever since eleven am."
Kadowaki laughed yet again.
Quistis's fingers toyed with the smooth surface of her glass as she listened to Camaliel Atney's speech carefully. She wasn't exactly on Galbadia's side after what she had seen with her very eyes during the war, but this man's words were nothing more than a merciless prosecution of an entire nation that had made the simple mistake of trusting the wrong Sorceress. It was a travesty.
Her own views were torn. On one hand, it felt a great deal like poetic justice to strip Galbadia of any right to reform a Garden for a prolonged amount of time after their actions in the Second Sorceress War, but on the other… it seemed unfair to turn them into a scapegoat for people's pain and suffering.
It was widely accepted among SeeDs that many of the evils done in Ultimecia's name had been done under the thrall of a spell, but she didn't know what to believe anymore. She knew Sorceress possession was a very real and terrifying matter, but how did one sort out the true victims from the liars? Had Martine, the former Galbadia Garden Headmaster, acted willingly? Had Seifer?
The trials that followed the war had been a tension-filled affair. There had been many false testimonies, she knew that much. She had even lied under oath herself, along with all her friends, in order to keep Ellone's anonymity and shield her from people who shared Odine's morbid fascination over powers like hers. Quistis had had little to do with the proceedings at the time; in an effort to learn the truth behind the events of the war, the Council had requested her presence only to narrate her version of that year and compare it to that of her peers.
The one who had been called on the stand repeatedly to testify for SeeDs who faced persecution had been Squall, and he had never revealed a thing about what he had witnessed in that courtroom. "Need to know policy," he had responded when they'd asked him. Nothing whatsoever about the fate of the war's participants.
Quistis let out a soft sigh. Two years had gone by and the world had yet to recover. Judgment had been passed hastily in an effort to tend to more pressing matters, like rebuilding what had been lost. Galbadia Garden had nearly made it out in the clear, until Trabia Garden pressed charges. So here we are now, Quistis thought, trying to refocus on Atney's speech.
"Furthermore, it is my firm opinion that Galbadia should not be granted clemency-"
The Trabian's words were cut short by a firm knock on the door. Val Helgon held a hand up to politely pause the man's speech and turned towards the door. "Enter."
When Quistis heard the knock on the door, she suspected it was the second Galbadian representative who was running late, and she was indeed correct. But the sweep of thick, gray trenchcoat that interrupted the meeting proved to be more than a simple distraction.
"Ah, SeeD… Almasy," Val Helgon said, checking the census quickly. "Glad you could join us."
"I trust that you've been informed of the circumstances behind my tardiness, your honor?" the young man asked, with politeness that sounded alien on his lips.
"I have, not to worry. I'm sorry to say we have already begun, but your partner can surely fill you in on what has been discussed so far. Please be seated."
The blond gave Val Helgon a curt nod and made his way over to the empty seat right next to Caradoc Cole.
Quistis couldn't help but stare.
Seifer Almasy. In the flesh.
Clad in the latest version of Galbadian SeeD apparel, representing the side which, after the war, had declared a bounty on his head.
And yet it didn't look like the old Seifer at all.
With the air of a man who meant business and with calm, premeditated prudence, he took his seat quietly and began to remove his windswept gray trenchcoat. Quistis vaguely remembered hearing that he had been caught up in Trabia, which would explain his heavy clothing in this temperature. Upon closer scrutiny, his face looked pale and weary, but it couldn't have been clearer that he had tried to meticulously hide that very fact, with moderate success.
The old Seifer wore his scars proudly –quite literally at that, served with a side dish of a smirk worthy of Diablos. And he most certainly never subdued himself to conformities such as wearing a uniform.
Quistis managed to look away long enough to share a stare of utter bewilderment with Selphie. Neither of them needed to speak; they were probably wondering the very same things. Why was Seifer, of all people, present in a Garden Council meeting? How could he possibly be on Galbadia's side? How had he escaped prosecution after the war?
But the most worrying issue of all was that Seifer hadn't even so much as turned his head to acknowledge the two Balmish women. Instead, he quietly listened to Atney as the Trabian resumed his speech. His tact was unnerving.
Quistis took a deep breath and tied to stifle the uneasy feeling she had had ever since waking up that morning.
This is going to get ugly…
It was like music to her ears, the sound of children playing on the beach. Laughing, enjoying themselves, splashing each other with water.
Edea Kramer watched them from time to time out of the corner of her eye, and with a smile, she swept her long black hair behind her ear and went back to her work. She had always loved the little stone patio in the back yard of the orphanage. It smelled of fresh laundry and brackish seawater, it was mostly quiet, and it gave her a good view of the beach below to keep an eye on the children.
Not that she really needed to.
With help of the likes of the two adults mingling with the orphans, there was no need to worry. She couldn't have asked for better bodyguards than the ones who had accepted her offer. They certainly got along very well with the children, too, or at least tried in one of their cases.
"Oy! I don't think Fujin appreciates being buried in the sand, ya know?"
Edea looked up once more, chuckling. Raijin Takeshi was struggling to step out of the water and onto the beach, the weight of five or so children holding him down. Some of them were hanging from his arms and back and some had wrapped themselves around his legs, now getting dragged out to the shore by the tanned, colossal man. As for Fujin, only her head stuck out from the pile of sand dumped on top of her, and said head didn't look particularly happy. Still, Edea knew that if she wanted to break free, she would already have. Fujin would never admit it, but Edea knew she was enjoying the company and patiently endured the taunts that came along with it every now and then.
About an hour later, everyone left the beach to gather around Edea's table, which was no longer quiet, but she, for one, welcomed the disruption of peace. Fujin on the other hand...
"So is, like, your other eye red, too?"
"…"
"Take your patch out!"
"…"
"C'moooon, we wanna seeeeeeeeeeee!"
"…"
"C'mon Fujin, show uuuus!"
"Show uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuus!"
"Show us, show us, show us, show us, show us, show us, show us, show us, show us…"
"How's it goin', ya know?" Raijin asked, wrapping a towel around his shoulders as he took a seat next to Edea.
"A few dead-ends here and there," Edea said with a sigh. "But I might be able to sort most of them out. It's been a while, so in some cases there are few to none remaining family members to contact."
"Show us, show us, show us, show us…"
Raijin glanced down at the papers on Edea's lap, his eyes widening slightly at the familiar name on the top of the form. "Think you can actually get to the bottom of this one, ya know?"
"Show us, show us, show us, show us…"
"Well, I—" she began, but came to a stop at the sight of a sailing boat approaching the gulf down below. Both she and Raijin got up from their seats. Edea didn't have to ask; the moment she extended her arm, Raijin handed her a set of binoculars she always kept nearby to make sure whoever came near the lighthouse had no hostile intentions.
Edea placed the binoculars in front of her eyes and toyed with the zoom button until she had a good lock on the boat and could make out its passengers. There was a man, unknown to her, behind the wheel. The only other passenger was a woman, who was standing, holding a similar set of binoculars and looking toward the direction of the orphanage. As soon as she saw Edea, she pulled them down and broke into a broad smile, waving at her enthusiastically.
Gasping in surprise, Edea returned the wave. "Yes, Raijin… I think there may be hope for that particular case yet," she said, and set the binoculars down on the table, before breaking into an excited run down the steps leading to the beach.
"Show us, show us, show us, sh— ARGH!"
So far, so good, Quistis thought. Despite the open accusations and the barely contained rage in Atney's words, the rest of the representatives, Galbadia included, remained civil.
The atmosphere in the room was undeniably tense, but there had been no interventions. Quistis glanced at Seifer's direction, trying to gauge what his reaction would be. He looked calm, as if everything that came out of Atney's mouth was what he had been expecting to hear. Come to think of it, he wouldn't have been sent here if he hadn't been thoroughly prepared by his superiors. The man sitting next to him, Caradoc Cole, appeared to be just as collected as Seifer was.
She wondered which one of the two would deliver the speech Galbadia Garden had prepared, once Atney was done presenting his case. Seifer had never been much of a public speaker, but the fact that they had chosen him in the first place was worrying her. The world knew little of Seifer Almasy, other than his holding Vinzer Deling at gunpoint, in what had rapidly become the world's most famous radio transmission. As far as civilians knew, the young man who had stood up to the dictator –and was perhaps seen as a hero by some- had been executed. The Knight, while a force to be reckoned with, was practically eclipsed in the striking presence of the Sorceress; Quistis doubted anyone even knew there had even been a Knight to begin with.
That wasn't the case with the people present in board room. Every single person in there knew exactly who Seifer Almasy was, as well as what he had done. Choosing him as a representative practically screamed marketing ploy.
"What says Galbadia on the matter?" Val Helgon said, addressing the two G-Garden reps.
Immediately, it became painfully obvious that Seifer had been waiting for that very moment with bated breath ever since he had stepped into the room. He didn't look nervous one bit. Quistis had always been somewhat envious of his incredible confidence, but right now she was more worried than jealous.
Rising from his seat slowly, Seifer cleared his throat and began to address the board at large. "First and foremost, I'd like to make it clear that Galbadia is by no means denying their heavy involvement in the Second Sorceress War. Doing so would be ridiculous, and besmirching our reputation even more is the last thing we would want to do. Gentlemen —and ladies-" he added quickly, acknowledging said ladies politely.
Point one for Galbadia. Addressing the women. Smooth, Almasy, Quistis thought wryly.
"—I'm not here today to bore you with half-baked promises and lies," he continued. "As everyone in this room already knows, Galbadia has long ago lost the privilege to be fully trusted, but what my colleague and I are here to reclaim is the benefit of the doubt. Things can change for the better; we are living proof of that. Under the command of Headmaster Jonah Meric, we have changed the way our academy operates, and we await the green light to proceed and show the world we can be trusted again."
"I'm wondering, SeeD Almasy," Atney of Trabia interrupted. Seifer regarded him coolly. "How long did it take for Jonah Meric to turn a poster boy for failure into a respectable," He spoke that last word with every ounce of disdain he could muster. "Representative for a Garden tainted to the very bowels with corruption?"
Quistis bit her cheek. Atney's words were harsh, but she had to admit: she had been wondering the very same ever since Seifer had opened his mouth and made her realize he was capable of multi-syllable words that weren't profanities.
The tall blond remained as infuriatingly collected as ever.
"I suggest you ask him yourself," he replied. "I'm afraid I had more important things to do under his tutelage than counting the days and nights I spent there."
"Such as trying –and failing- to convince the world you had been rehabilitated?"
The tall blond didn't even skip a beat. He had obviously been expecting such hostility and was fully prepared to turn it against the offender, whoever that might be. "Oh, you would know of rehabilitation, SeeD Atney," Seifer countered, smirking.
Quistis felt little alarms going off in her head. The familiar glint in those green eyes was never a good sign.
"Tell me, is your son enjoying the splendid facilities in Hope's Chapel? I hear the Centraic government pulled out all the stops during renovations."
Quistis should have known the old Seifer was still hiding in there. Underneath all the forced politeness and sophistication, he still knew how to play dirty.
Hope's Chapel was nothing more than a rehabilitation center for men and women with drug addictions, and Seifer had obviously done his homework… for once. Not that she could blame him; Trabia would go to every measure possible to ensure Galbadia never got the permit to reinstate their license and if he were to defend the Galbadian side, Seifer would need all the help he could get.
"You filthy little son-of-a-bitch!"
"Gentlemen!" Val Helgon thundered, rapping his flat palm on the tabletop loudly.
Seifer simply regarded the infuriated Trabian rep calmly, hints of a sneer dancing on his lips, knowing he had hit a very sensitive spot, one he could now exploit to his benefit.
"I will not have this meeting turn into a juvenile vendetta between Galbadia and Trabia!" Val Helgon growled once Atney had stopped shouting and was being pulled back to his seat by his colleague. "SeeD Atney, it would be wise if you chose your words a bit more carefully from now on. As for you, SeeD Almasy… Get to the point without snide comments, if you please."
"There was nothing 'snide' about my argument, your honor," Seifer insisted. "All I was trying to point out is that, as the case is with SeeD Atney's son," –The Trabian seethed- "Our society believes in second chances, and it would be, in my opinion, hypocritical to make exceptions wherever it suits us best."
"And what about the victims of Trabia Garden?"
Quistis looked up at Selphie who had risen. She was surprised the girl had remained quiet for so long; the issue of Trabia Garden's destruction was one she had always been very sensitive about and Quistis wouldn't think badly of her friend if she never found it in her heart to fully forgive the misdoings of G-Garden under Seifer's command. She could see the carefully hidden pained expression in Selphie's eyes, but the girl stood up proudly nonetheless.
It was the first time Seifer turned to regard his two childhood acquaintances. "Like I said before, Galbadia has no intention of shying away from their mistakes," he began. "As I'm sure you already know, SeeD Tilmitt—"
SeeD Tilmitt? If I weren't sitting down already, Quistis trailed off, unable to help but keep being surprised today. Apparently, she wasn't the only one. She was quick to spot the sudden flash of surprise in Selphie's eyes before they shone in determination again.
"Galbadia has been, and will continue to fund Trabia Garden until it is fully restored to its previous state. Money is not an issue," Seifer finished.
"Money never seems to be an issue for Galbadia, SeeD Almasy," spoke Juno Sarutobi, the Esthari representative. "And whereas this now works to Trabia's advantage for the time being, I do believe SeeD Tilmitt spoke of human lives. Casualties rather than any remaining repairs."
Quistis half-expected Seifer to apologize. It certainly wouldn't shock her after everything she'd heard him utter and seen him do today, but just as she had already noticed, the old Seifer Almasy hadn't simply disappeared under a thick layer of formal etiquette. Her suspicion was proven correct seconds later.
Seifer simply shrugged. "It is of no use to wallow over something that can't be changed," he began. "The loss on Trabia's side is… regrettable—"
"Regrettable?"
Quistis tightened her grip on Selphie's hand. Easy… Don't give him the satisfaction of using this to your disadvantage.
"But Galbadia," Seifer went on. "Is willing to put forward an exchange program between the two Gardens exclusively, aside from the already existing one among all Gardens, to fuel T-Garden with as much personnel, cadets and SeeDs as needed. This is no meager offer, and I would advise Trabia to take it."
His tone seemed to imply the unspoken words at the end. Or else.
Quistis saw Selphie's fists clench. This was clearly not the response she would have preferred, but that was most likely the best she could have gotten out of Seifer Almasy. There was no amount of funding in the world that would compensate for the loss of her friends in Trabia, but from a clearly cynical, practical point of view, Galbadia's offer was more than generous.
"If you think, even for a second," Selphie began, her voice low. "That Trabia's loss will be simply wiped out like th—"
"SeeD Tilmitt, might I remind you that you are representing Balamb on this board…" Val Helgon cut in, eyeing the girl with an arched eyebrow.
Quistis rubbed the bridge of her nose and stifled a sigh. This was getting nowhere. If she didn't intervene, this could go on all morning. All Garden representatives would attack Seifer with everything they had, he would respond to every single one of them with as much ease as he had displayed so far and in the end, they would reach no decision. Either that, or everything would fall apart and the world would only have two fully functional Gardens, one incredibly pissed off Galbadian government and a crippled Garden with no hope of rebirth without the proper support. She grit her teeth, preparing herself mentally for what she was about to do.
I'm sorry, Selphie…
"Unless SeeD Almasy has anything else to add," Quistis said, standing up next to her friend. Seifer's jade eyes turned to her. He seemed almost guarded, as if he was expecting to get a piece of her mind, but it did not show beyond his eyes. He gave a nod and extended his palm gently, giving her the okay to continue. "I would like to state that Galbadia has Balamb's approval and support in reinstating their license. Provided that my colleague seconds the motion."
Ringing, pregnant silence spread throughout the room within the blink of an eye.
Seifer seemed to be torn on whether he should smirk triumphantly or gape in shock. Selphie, on the other hand, turned to stare at Quistis as if she had never truly seen her before.
"SeeD Tilmitt, do you second SeeD Trepe's motion?" Val Helgon asked, breaking the silence and looking up at the young brunette.
Selphie continued to stare at Quistis, hurt and bewilderment swimming in her normally vivid eyes. Quistis had come to this meeting with every intention of giving Galbadia a fair chance, but things had taken a drastic turn for the worse with Seifer's arrival. She knew that Selphie and every other representative in there might have warmed up to anyone other than Seifer, but using him had proven to be very effective. The message Galbadia was trying to send was loud and clear: if Jonah Meric could change Seifer Almasy, he could change anyone.
"SeeD Tilmitt?"
Quistis shut her eyes for a split second, lowering her gaze from Selphie's eyes. She leaned the slightest bit towards her friend's ear and whispered, "Do it for Trabia. Please. Refusing the offer will only make things worse."
"SeeD Tilmitt."
Selphie turned to face Val Helgon, her jaw set. "I second the motion," she said, forcing the words out of her mouth. "Galbadia has Balamb's support."
Quistis fell into her seat unceremoniously, letting out an inaudible sigh. Thank Hyne…
Across the room, Seifer directed his gaze at the documents in his hands, the corners of his lips arching up.
There was a discreet 'Ding!' as the elevator came to a stop and Rinoa stepped out onto the third floor of Balamb Garden, carrying along with her the scent of freshly cooked lunch.
Shizuka's senses, considerably dulled by the unchallenging tasks assigned to her for that day, immediately sprang to life. Perking up, she stretched over her desk to see who was approaching and felt her mouth water at the sight of the brown paper bag in Rinoa's hands. "Lunch break time already?" she asked, checking her watch. By Hyne, was it already one pm?
"Lost track of time?" Rinoa asked with a grin as she approached the other girl's desk. "Glad to see I wasn't the only one…"
"Mmm, will the excitement ever end?" Shizuka drawled, resting her chin on her balled fist. "I should probably be heading over to the cafeteria soon."
"You should," Rinoa agreed, glancing over towards the mahogany door to her left. "Is Squall—?"
"He's inside, yeah," Shizuka said. "Though I should warn you, he's not— Oh for crying out loud," she murmured under her breath for a split second, her eyes falling a little above Rinoa's shoulder. "He's not in the best of moods today," she finished.
Looking over her shoulder and over to the back, Rinoa's eyebrows arched up. "Uhhh… What on earth is Zell doing?"
Shizuka let out an exasperated sigh, following Rinoa's gaze to look at Zell, who was doing what could only be described as a lap-dance from a distance. The highlights of said dance which Zell seemed to enjoy a wee bit too much were apparently shaking his ass in what he clearly thought was an alluring manner and flexing. "Squall asked him to retrieve some documents from Xu's office and he knows I can see him through the window, so…" Shizuka explained.
Rinoa burst into laughter and Shizuka shook her head in amused disbelief. "He spends a little too much time with Irvine, if you ask me," she said, in the midst of Rinoa's gales of laughter.
"D'you think Irvine would ever do that?" the young Sorceress asked, trying to keep a straight face.
"Well, seeing as Irvine would probably actually strip, I think Zell's okay for the time being…" Shizuka said, chuckling, not noticing that the mahogany door next to her and Rinoa had just been wrenched open.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, ZELL?"
Rinoa bit her lip and made a beeline for Squall's office. "I'll handle him," she said to Shizuka, winking. "Hey, d'you think I could have a go at Solitaire while you're down for lunch?"
Shizuka's face paled. "Err… If I'm done when you come out, sure!"
Lunch would have to wait for an hour. Or four…
Quistis hurried after Selphie out into the hall.
The meeting had just been adjourned and the most pressing matter, that of G-Garden's reinstatement had been accepted almost unanimously. The second Val Helgon stated that the meeting was over, Selphie had hastily grabbed her belongings and had rushed out of the board room, without so much as a glance to Quistis's direction.
"Selphie!" Quistis called after her friend, struggling to keep up; the last thing she wanted was to make a scene. "Selphie, wait!"
The brunette turned around abruptly, her eyes cold. She gave Quistis an impatient glare.
"I'm really sorry, but—"
Selphie held a hand up to interrupt Quistis. "I know you are. I know it's sincere and I know why you did it." Out of the corner of her eye, Selphie watched the Galbadian representatives step out of the board room casually, sharing a handshake. Seifer in particular looked triumphant. The sight made Selphie screw her face in distaste.
"But it doesn't change everything, and it sure as hell doesn't change how I feel about the situation. I'll…" she trailed off, turning back to Quistis. "I'll meet you at the Ragnarok. We're scheduled to leave in a few minutes." And with those words, she turned her heel and left the lobby in a huff.
It was only eleven am and Quistis already felt the need to crawl in bed and not get up for another month at the very least.
Despite the -objectively- positive outcome of the meeting, she couldn't help but feel horrible about the initiative she had taken to support Galbadia first. Her head was swimming with all the possibilities of action she could have taken but didn't, as well as what in Hyne's name was Seifer doing with Galbadia Garden.
Mechanically, her eyes turned and set upon the Man of the Hour. He was conversing with the Esthari representatives, both of whom seemed less hostile now and even waved goodbye once he and Cole began to depart. She heard Seifer telling Cole to meet him outside. It would have made Quistis wonder why he hadn't joined his colleague yet, if he hadn't turned to look at her right after Cole left the lobby.
Holding his coat in one arm regally, he began to take steps towards her, slipping one hand into his uniform pocket. He retrieved what Quistis recognized as a silver, engraved and very expensive-looking cigarette case, all the while approaching her. He came to a stop in front of the woman, withdrawing an unfiltered cigarette and slipping it between his lips. "So speak," he said casually, lighting up.
Quistis almost took a step back. "Excuse me?"
Seifer tilted his head up, exhaling smoke through the slit of his mouth. The sight wouldn't have been out of place in one of the late Vinzer Deling's galas. What on earth had happened to the unkempt boy who used to sneak out of Garden at nights to keep company to the lowest of scum in the Balmish slums? "I saw you and Messenger Girl—" he began.
Ah… So it's back to the old nicknames off the record.
"-staring at me in there," he went on. "And on your way out. I assumed there was something you were dying to tell me, Trepe. So speak."
Straight and to the point. Cold like a hitman. Not even a rudimentary greeting.
Quistis averted her gaze for a second, folding her arms against her chest. "What are you doing in Galbadia?"
Seifer had clearly expected this. He spread his arms out, smoldering cigarette in one hand. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked, smirking. And it was. The crisp SeeD uniform spoke volumes of what Seifer had been doing with his spare time ever since the end of the war.
"You made it to SeeD…"
Seifer took another drag of smoke in. "Well spotted," he said dryly. "Aren't you going to congratulate me?"
"I suppose I should," Quistis said, after a moment's hesitation. Although the question was burning her insides. Why choose G-Garden to make it to SeeD? Wasn't Balamb good enough for you? Wasn't I good enough for you? I gave you everything you needed to pass that test, and yet you kept screwing it up. And now… you take one step into G-Garden and turn into… this. "Congratulations." She extended her arm.
Seifer placed the cigarette between his lips to offer her his only free hand. He didn't thank her. "Didn't think I would ever make it, did you?" he asked once the lukewarm handshake was over.
"I'm just surprised you chose G-Garden," Quistis replied truthfully. "They had a bounty on your head and you turned to their side?" she asked in disbelief.
"I guess some people are forgiving," Seifer replied with a casual shrug. He was still smirking.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
Quistis pursed her lips, nodding. "Well, just to make things clear," she began, looking up at him coolly. "I do not condone Galbadia's actions, if that's the impression you got today. I simply think this is the only chance Trabia Garden has in standing back up on its feet before it is too late."
"Well, that's mighty valiant of you, Trepe," Seifer replied, his tone mocking. "But I didn't ask for your opinion. Nor do I give a shit."
"Ah, I was wondering when we would be seeing the old Seifer again."
"Old?" Seifer scoffed, chuckling. "There is no old and new Seifer, Trepe. Just an improved second version. Improved under more capable hands, that is," he added, and then paused for added effect, letting the words sink in. "I'll be seeing you around, Instructor," Seifer said with a curt nod of his head, and made his way towards the exit.
All Quistis could do was gape at his departing form. She didn't know what hurt the most; the fact that Seifer was bringing up old wounds again… or the fact that he was right.
The wind whipped his face mercilessly as the engines of the jet powered up before take-off.
Seifer stepped up the ladder and into the jet marked with Galbadian insignia. His eyes searched for Cole, who was already seated and waiting for take-off. Seifer joined him and took a seat, stretching, glad that this whole charade was over for good. No sooner had he sank into a comfortable position, than the cellphone in his pocket started ringing.
"Yes," he said, answering the call, followed by a yawn.
"How did it go?"
"How d'you think?" Seifer replied, grinning. His voice was thick with lassitude, as he began to feel the weight of the whole day creep up on his shoulders. "Victory."
"Well done. When do we get official clearance to reform?"
"They didn't say. Van Whatshisface mentioned something about them contacting us ASAP with direct orders," he said.
"Hmmm… That sounds a little ominous. Still, we got what we needed."
"Yup."
"…I trust that your vocabulary was slightly richer when addressing the council?"
"Relax, I impressed the shit out of them," Seifer drawled, yawning again. "Are we done? I need some sleep."
"We're done. I'll see you back in Garden."
Terminating the call, Seifer slipped the cellphone back into his coat pocket and relaxed into his seat, securing his belt for take-off.
He was far too tired to brag about it right now, but he really had done a good job, after all. Not that he'd had any doubts whatsoever… Meric's notes had been meticulous to the point of obsession, and Seifer had been ordered to memorize every single word. Jonah trusted his ability to charm a crowd, but he knew that the council would come at him with everything they had, even something as simple and insignificant as his lack of eloquence or his refusal to wear a uniform.
Unlike the situation back in Balamb Garden, however, Seifer now understood the stakes. His regular clothes were too much of a reminder of things past and made him recognizable, something he needed to avoid at all costs. As long as he was on Galbadia Garden business, he couldn't afford not to be taken seriously, and every little detail counted. Jonah had made certain this very fact had been drilled into his head from Day One and Seifer had kept up his end of the deal. Grudgingly, but he had.
At the very least, everything he'd been put through had paid off in the long run. The expressions on Trepe and Messenger Girl's faces alone once they saw him were enough to make his day.
"Was that Mr. Meric?" Cole asked.
"Mmm-hmmm…" Seifer murmured, his eyes already closed shut. "I let him know I got the job done."
"You mean we. We got the job done."
Seifer slipped his eyes open for a split second, smirking. "Yeah… right."
The jet took off unto the warm, morning Centra sky.
A/N: Another chapter down! I hope this isn't going too slow for some of you, but hey, I tend to insert a lot of crap within chapters; that much is true, hehe. Either way, I think that as of chapter 3-4 the pace will quicken somewhat. I'm not entirely sure yet because I do have a crude outline of this story, but it isn't detailed enough for me to know where one stops and where the other begins yet.
And please, before any of you come at me with arguments of the: "Omg, Seifer would NEVER do so-and-so! Sacrilege!" type, rest assured, I already know. In this fic, Seifer is a changed man. And on the other hand, he's not. What I mean is that since this takes place almost three years after the game, it's only natural that some things about him would've changed, be that for better or for worse. However, I do not intend on dumping this 'new' Seifer right into this fic without any explanations whatsoever. I hope that in due time, you'll realize that he hasn't really changed deep inside, but instead has matured a teeny bit, and I promise that you'll see first-hand how this change came to be in the first place.
Till next time!
04/10/2010 EDIT:
- The BEZ dispenser is a clear reference to the real-life PEZ dispenser.
- 3rd scene, Quistis muses about the trials that took place post-war and claims of mind-affecting spells.
- 5th scene, Quistis mentions how much the world knows about Seifer's involvement in the war.
- Edea's visitor comes by sea instead of knocking on the door.