Author's Notes – Gah. I ruined my updating streak. Well, I guess that's a given when you have to catch up on XIII when you suddenly have to buy a new PS3 just to get back to where you were on the old save you can't access anymore. Oh well. I'm just pelting you guys with more questions anyway. ;D

-—--—-——-—--—-

Chapter III — Isolate

("I don't want to be alone with my thoughts but I can't help it.")

-—-

Thursday, July 8th (Morning, Day 1)

After carefully planting his left foot on the cold tile and grasping one of the chair's arms firmly with his left hand, Squall slowly eased himself into the wheelchair, thankful that his abdominal muscles weren't affected by the wounds to avoid making this task mission impossible.

During this time, he couldn't help but notice Dr. Kadowaki surveying his actions from her desk, though her expression had him at a loss. He couldn't tell whether or not her slightly bemused, possibly amused, look suggested that she was surprised that he managed to get into the chair without doing a face-plant or if was because she took notice that his entire right side was basically dead weight for all intents and purposes at the moment.

But then he looked down and realized that it was for a whole other reason altogether; the flimsy knot he made earlier with his one hand had come undone and his gown was starting to droop downwards, eerily mimicking an off-the shoulder blouse he'd seen Rinoa wear long ago.

Despite the severity of the situation, Dr. Kadowaki grinned a little as he began hastily gathering the back strings together to tie them up again. "I was wondering when you were going to notice it had come loose."

He tossed her a wry look. "The first thing I'm going to do once I get back to my office is make a purchase requisition for gowns with snaps instead of the ties. Mark my words."

"Alright, I will." she replied before semi-seriously adding, "You might want to look into increasing the overall infirmary budget while you're at it too."

"If I'm not dead by the preliminary fall budget drafting, maybe I'll consider it."

Leaving the exchange at that, Squall leaned back a little to allow his left hand to unlock the brakes. After he could feel the grip of the brakes releasing, he attempted to use his one hand on the wheel to propel himself forward as the other languidly rested on the arm of the chair. Despite his best efforts, the chair moved very little and what motion he did achieve, only served to move rather crookedly. He put his good foot down to stop what could only be described as, provided there was a heavily sarcastic bent to the words, a slow motion collision course towards the wall.

Squall looked up at Dr. Kadowaki once more, genuinely surprised that she was poring over some paperwork on her desk with a pen in hand, completely unaware what just happened. Not wanting to press his luck, he straightened out his wheels and inched forward using one foot.

While he did round the corner and went past the open doorway separating the two halves of the infirmary, he did not make another right turn. Instead, he went past the curtained doorway and veered towards the left and to a different door, one he knew belonging to a washroom.

As the doors hissed open in response to his weight triggering the sensor, Squall wasted no time in moving past the doorway and pressing the appropriate buttons on the keypad on the inside of the room to lock the doors. Once the short, telltale chime told him that they were indeed locked, he wheeled himself away from the doors altogether and headed towards the sink in the middle of the right-hand wall.

Firmly planting his good foot on the floor tile, Squall gripped the edge of the countertop to pull himself up to full height. Despite a few false starts and some dull stinging as a result, it wasn't before long until he was blankly staring at his own reflection in the mirror over the sink.

While Squall knew that he wasn't dead, he couldn't help but still feel like he was looking at a ghost in the mirror. What little colour he managed to acquire during the hot Balamb summer days had vanished, only leaving the dark circles accentuating the stormy blue of his irises and highlighting his desperate need for the sleep that would not come. Though he was not directly pressing against the wound, standing here with his hips leaning against the sink's lip for stability wasn't helping matters any as the dull stinging was beginning to grow.

Aware that he had very little time to spare at this point, he slowly reached for the tap's knob and twisted it until a steady stream of cold water was pouring down the sink. After splashing it vigorously against his waxy skin, he extended his hand to grab the liquid soap dispenser and turn it slightly so he could cup the spout sideways as he pressed it down with his thumb. He lathered up his face to strip away the grime, oil and odd residual dirt on his skin, splashing it all away with the water moments later.

Even though there was a paper towel dispenser within reach, just left of the mirror, Squall let the residual droplets freely meander down his face and into the sink. It wasn't long before he couldn't help but focus on the one thing the soapy water couldn't wash away; stubble, never mind four days' worth, wasn't something he saw very often. Though he really wasn't hung up on the fact that he couldn't currently do anything about in the slightest, what kept him fixated on this atypical feature of his was a particular two day-old memory, one he couldn't seem to escape for the life of him no matter how he tried.

He could remember her silly little grin as clear as day — the one single event that started it all.

"...What's so funny?" he remembered asking shortly after she'd found him upon disembarking the train in Timber.

The grin grew a fraction. "You."

"Do I dare ask why?"

"Maybe, maybe not." she teased. When he tossed her a slight look, she spilled the beans. "Alright, it's not so much that it's funny but it's kind of amusing to see you with actual stubble, not just five o' clock shadow. Hope you didn't go mad after not seeing me for so long."

"Mad would be giving myself an impromptu brush cut," he dryly answered, "And before you ask why, I was just busy these past few days trying to get a hold on all of the false documents coming through before the cadet transfer aptitude testing and interviews."

"Ah, I see. If it's anywhere as crazy as last time, I can see why you wouldn't have the time."

"...Tell me about it." he said in an exasperated tone. "Even after two years of Balamb's conservatorship over G-Garden, the amount of bureaucratic crap that still goes on is infuriating."

Rinoa bit her lip slightly. "Sounds like you really needed this break."

Though he still had a good week and a half to finish them up in reality, her call a few days ago inexplicably drove him to put a rather large dent in the lot in the first two days after the work came in. Part of him reasoned that it was to make sure he wasn't shirking his duties by taking a rare half-day off while another part nagged at him, telling him different. Regardless of the culprit, he didn't utter a single word on the subject, merely opting to nod; it was far simpler this way. Or at least it would be for that brief moment, he figured before proceeding to tackle other matters.

"So what was it that you needed to tell me in person?" he asked.

With that warm smile still gracing her lips, she took his hand in hers. "Let's...go somewhere with a little less hustle and bustle first, ok?"

He nodded once more, letting her wordlessly lead him through the busy streets of Timber as per usual. To where? He wouldn't know until they'd get there.

Zoning back into reality, he looked away from the mirror and submitted to the whims of his aching leg, bending downward on his good side to reach for the arm of the wheelchair for the stability to ease himself back into it. What he hadn't expected however, was for the said chair to start rolling backwards just as he gripped the arm. With an undignified attempt at regaining the disrupted balance, he fell sideways, hitting his left elbow on the seat, missing most of the chair altogether and smacking the ice-cold floor nice and hard and ever so awkwardly.

"God fucking dammit!"

Before Squall knew it, he could hear the sound of footsteps echoing closer and closer, marking the ubiquitous end to his short-lived isolation. All he could do to shut it out was to screw his eyes shut and desperately cling to what little he had left before it would be stripped away and questioned by the outside world.

Finally, the knocks came when the door would not open. They were slow and calm at first, growing in ardour and frequency as he left them unanswered. Then, just as he thought Dr. Kadowaki was going to start mimicking a jackhammer, her voice resonated from the other side.

"For the love of Hyne, please tell me you didn't fall into the toilet!"

Squall opened his eyes and, sanity be damned, he let out a singular, bitter chuckle.