Chapter VII
THE FIRST CUT
What could she say in a situation like this? She didn't know, and her perplexity became aggravated to desperation level whenever she trained watchful and anxious eyes towards her impromptu guest. Quistis wished she were as brilliant a conversationalist as she was a warrior. She just had to draw his attention away from her stomach.
Yeah, right. Popular instructor suddenly disappeared from sight, leaving everyone hanging at the end of their own questions. Of course, especially the leader of the Balamb-wide groupie who had made a religion out of the adoration of Quistis Trepe. She was gone for half a year, which naturally had created a great impact on the students who admired her the most. Of course, especially the leader of the Balamb-wide groupie who had made a calling out of admiring her. And now, he had stumbled on to her, with her frame five pounds heavier and her stomach bulging with a baby inside. And she thought she could change the subject? Get real!
Might as well play with the music.
"So what do you have in mind?" Quistis asked. Marcus regarded her with a funny look.
"I was thinking maybe the Highwind Rockets should have used a 1-3-1 defense down the stretch last night," he replied sarcastically. "Come on, instructor! What do you think I have in mind?"
That was stupid, Quistis thought. And now, she didn't know what else to say so she decided to stay quiet. A good one minute elapsed before Marcus broke the silence.
"By the way, if I were you I'd hire a new runner. That gremlin almost got away with Save The Queen."
"You mean he stole it? So that's why it's missing…"
"Uh huh…" Marcus nodded. "Not that you'd have any use of it anymore."
She didn't answer, wary that anything she could say would give away the secret she had been holding at bay during the last six… no… nine months. But either she kept her mouth shut or not, Quistis knew of the fate directive that declared no secret could be kept hidden for too long. Especially from someone as inquisitive and obsessed with her as Marcus.
And her worries didn't prove premature.
"If you don't mind me asking… who's the lucky guy?"
Quistis smirked at her former student. "That's a matter of personal business, Marcus," she said. But she hardly expected the discovery to make him uncharacteristically blatant and direct.
"Sure, I suppose I could respect that… if I choose to, Quistis."
She lifted her head up and looked at him directly. Quistis had never heard Marcus address her by her first name, with him always observing Garden decorum out of respect for her. His behavior now worried her. How desperate was he to know who impregnated her?
Apparently, he was desperate enough for the entire Garden populace. "I know it's none of my business, but you know how I've always felt about you from the start. So forgive me if… if I couldn't help myself from finding out."
That would do it, Quistis thought. Although she had been hoping for the contrary, she knew that her secret wouldn't be kept hidden forever. One way or another, it'll blow open, and anyone within a hundred mile radius would be swept along by the shockwave. It was just a matter of time.
And the way it looked, that time had finally come upon her. Quistis knew Marcus, and she knew that he was almost as good a detective as she was. He found her, didn't he? If he put his mind to the task, he could easily find out the truth. And all of the sudden, a chilling fear shot out from her spine.
"Marcus, I know it'd be easy for you to uncover the truth, and I couldn't stop you if you choose to. But I'm begging you, please don't tell anyone."
Marcus' right eyebrow elevated. Why would she want to conceal it? Come to think of it, why had Quistis been keeping her condition a secret from everybody?
One look at his facial expression and Quistis knew she had just committed a fatal mistake.
"It's someone from Garden, isn't it? It's not that Hunter guy, right? It couldn't be him. Case reports said that you two only got together six months ago. And it looks to me like you're ready to deliver any time soon."
She stood up and walked towards the window, her mind a cacophony of anxiety and desperation. Quistis realized there was no stopping Marcus from finding out the truth. And all she could do right now was to beg him to keep it a secret, the way two other people in Garden had been doing during the last couple of months.
"Please…" she said, turning back to face her guest, "I know I could never quell your curiosity. But you have to promise that you won't tell anyone. There's just… too much at stake."
His mind was now racing. Too much at stake? Like what? An endangered friendship, perhaps? Whose friendship?
Marcus had always had the knack for asking the right questions. And as a Trepie, he knew too much about her that perhaps no other people knew save Quistis herself. An endangered friendship? Whose friendship? What was the most logical answer?
He then remembered how some people had alluded the instructor's ties with the SeeD commander. It wasn't a big secret to the Trepies, they had always harbored a mild contempt towards Squall Leonhart for his alleged callousness and utter idiocy for rejecting the prospect of a relationship with a goddess, choosing instead the affection of a lowly princess.
The princess… Rinoa…
Rinoa and Quistis were the best of friends…
An endangered friendship…?
"Friggin' hell…!" he blurted out. "It's Squall, isn't it? IT'S SQUALL!"
He wasn't one hundred percent sure, but that seemed to be the most logical answer. But sometimes, logic still proved inadequate in consideration of some possibly hidden factors. It could have been someone else, Marcus thought. But he just had to ask.
And he wanted desperately to hear her say it wasn't Squall. Let it be someone else, someone who had more sense to know just how lucky he was. But not Squall.
Then Quistis had to bite her lips…
"… It is him…"
She sighed. "If you know me as much as you claim, you'd know I too have a penchant to be idiotic."
"Yeah. Idiotic, I can understand. But…"
"But what? But not being a retard?" Quistis scoffed. "Heh, you sound just like Xu."
Xu Kirishima. The name echoed in Marcus' mind. "Who else knows about this?"
Oh well, Quistis thought. Since he had already forced himself into the club, there was no point in keeping the rest of the members from him.
"Two others. Xu, and…"
The phone suddenly rang. Quistis courteously held two hands before Marcus to before gaiting cautiously towards the phone. One of her hands was holding against the counter while the other supported her hips, and her steps were heavy and deliberate. Marcus couldn't help feeling sorry for her. He never imagined he'd see the vaunted instructor, his idol and love interest, in such a vulnerable state.
"Hello…" Quistis echoed monotonously. Marcus was mildly surprised when she acknowledged the caller. "Doc?"
Doctor Kadowaki… he thought. The other one who knew.
"I know. I already had someone go to town to buy the medications you prescribed. But I'm afraid he won't be coming back anymore."
"What? Quisty, you need those medicines. You could give birth anytime now. Would you like me to come over?"
"Yeah… Yeah, I'd appreciate that, Doctor," she said while looking at her guest. "But don't worry about the prenates, I already have someone here who could help me." Her eyes asked him if it was all right. Marcus nodded. Quistis appreciated his kindness, an act that was made difficult by her awareness of his sentiments. She knew that Marcus was immensely disappointed with this discovery.
"What do you mean? Someone's there with you?"
"Yeah. It's Marcus."
"Marc… Oh my goodness! You mean our Marcus Derlini?"
"Yep. And he already knows everything so next time you meet, don't bother acting clueless or anything like that. He might feel insulted."
"Tell that to Xu," Dr. Kadowaki responded nervously. "And what do you think he'd do once he encounters Squall?"
"Uh…" she suddenly stammered, "I totally forgot about that. Hold on a sec…" Quistis forgot about the mute button of the telephone, putting a hand instead over the mouthpiece to keep her voice from being heard by the doctor. "Marcus, please. You must promise me never to tell anyone about this."
He looked at her hard. Marcus didn't know if he should pledge to something he wasn't sure he'd do. The darkness on his face betrayed the anger growing in his chest, and it prompted the helpless instructor to go back to the phone.
"Doc, I think I need to go now."
"Wait. I called to tell you that I'm coming over tomorrow. I'm worried about you, what if you start to go on labor?"
"Fine. I'll see you tomorrow then." She curtly said before putting the phone down. Quistis turned and directly faced Marcus, her eyes now flashing that same old authoritative look of a teacher.
"Marcus, you don't know what happened. You don't understand what really came down between Squall and I."
"What's to understand? I'm a guy myself, instructor. And the only reason why I'd… do that with a girl I don't love is if I want to take advantage of her. That jerk did, to you of all people! He's really got balls doing it and then letting you leave Garden to cover up his blunder. So what else is there to understand?"
"Marcus!" Quistis exclaimed. "You are not acquainted with the facts. Squall doesn't know about my pregnancy. He doesn't even remember that… that… THING that happened between us. It was very complicated and I don't know if you'll understand even if I spend the whole night telling you about it. But the bottom line is you don't know what happened. So please… please… don't do anything rash…"
"Like hell…" he trailed off. Marcus found Quistis' claims extremely hard to believe. What did she mean by saying he didn't know about that thing? What, she drugged him? But Quistis would never do something like that, right? She may be a lot of things, but a desperate girl dwelling on unrequited love she wasn't. She was definitely far stronger than that.
But then, he knew all these angst and confusion were just rigors of his own jealousy. Deep inside, Marcus knew that the reason he was angry was because someone had that golden opportunity, and it wasn't him. Damn, why did he have to always be last when it came to the things he wanted the most?
The realization was so ironic it was almost funny. Resting pensively on the windowsill, Marcus recalled a moment two years ago.
"You know what, instructor? I remember this time when I came across Squall in the cafeteria. I was with Tom then. But actually, I really wasn't with anyone. I was too busy thinking about you, of how to get closer to you. You know… even if I'm just your student, I still wanted to be more for you."
His eyes went misty for the briefest moment, but that didn't escape Quistis' attention. She wanted to ask him what he had been seeing in her to feel an affection this great and enduring. But then, she too had been trapped in the same kind of idiosyncrasy, and therefore she virtually had no right to ask that question. Of all people, she should know the answer.
"Anyway…" Marcus continued, "so here was Squall. He talked to Tom because I was too incoherent to answer back. But I know he also noticed me. And you know what?"
"What…?"
"When in all my moronic sense I asked ALOUD what could I possibly do to get closer to you, he looked at me as though I had just lost my mind. It's like he found the idea of liking you totally insane."
Quistis wasn't in love with Squall anymore. Hunter had already cured her of that hopeless affection. But she still had her pride, and an insinuation like that still hurt. She simply chose not to dwell on it.
"That's ancient history, Marcus. People change."
"Is that why you slept with him?"
Ouch!
"Marcus…" She sighed. "I may not be your teacher anymore. But don't you think I still deserve some modicum of respect? Even if I'm about to become a single mother?"
Her words came rampaging like a cold salmon that slapped him hard on the face. Marcus reeled, repentant for displaying such a crass attitude. "I… I'm sorry, Quistis. I didn't me to…"
"Don't worry about it," she said, followed by another scoff. "Hmph, you should hear Xu give me the treatment. I mean, I'm an orphan but whenever I'm with her, I can't help feeling like the little sister. She's just so adamant about my affairs."
"She just cares about you," he quickly retorted. "We all do. Especially… uh…"
'Me.' She could imagine him saying. Quistis regarded Marcus with a fond look, all the while wondering why people weren't given the ability to order their hearts to love those they had deemed worthy. His admiration for her was all but legendary around Balamb Garden, and she knew everything about it from the start. If she could, she would have directed her heart to return the love he had regarded her all this time. But sadly, that wasn't how things worked.
"I know," Quistis said. "The problem is I never seem to listen to those who cared about me the most. I'm this celebrated instructor who everyone admires and listens to. And I in turn don't listen to the people who care about me. Maybe it's being too egocentric on my part. I don't know…"
"You? Egocentric? Hardly. It's like saying Zell is really shy at heart."
Quistis responded with a chuckle. For a moment, the tension eased, affording her to behave in a manner typical of one delighted to have met a long-lost colleague.
"How are you guys doing anyway?"
"We're hangin' there," Marcus answered. "Although things are a little tough right now with public opinion. I'm sure you're aware of that butthead Markkon and his idiotic campaign against Garden."
"Yeah, I know. And I don't understand that man. I realize he may have been reacting to what happened to his family in Dollet but… it's all so strange. I can't avoid thinking that he may have a deeper agenda behind this propaganda."
"Headmaster Cid feels the same way. The truth is we're all itching to open a couple of books, journals and databases to see if Markkon is somehow involved in under-the-table stuff. But both President Loire and General Caraway are against us taking direct action. They said if things went wrong, it'd only serve to prove Markkon's stupid point."
"I agree," Quistis replied. "If I were there I'd back that decision up. The situation is simply too volatile for Garden to mobilize any form of countermeasure. "
"If only you're still with us, at least we'd stand a better chance of figuring things out without needing to lift a finger."
"I can't. You know that," she countered. But Quistis really felt giddy upon hearing him mention the possibility of her coming back to Garden. Though she hardly had been giving it a thought, Quistis still missed her old home terribly. "If I could, I would. But I can't."
"So what are you planning to do?"
"My plan? Bring my daughter out into the world… and hope she doesn't grow up to be like me."
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Rinoa didn't know why Selphie wanted to meet her here of all places. They could always go to the cafeteria, where a corner had been especially reserved for them ever since the Time Compression crisis. Then there was the gala room porch, Rinoa's favorite spot in Garden, from where she had developed the habit of star watching during her free time. They could also have met in either of their SeeD quarters, both of which offered absolute privacy in case they'd be talking about something very sensitive.
But why the Ragnarok cockpit?
It really didn't matter, she ultimately thought. One location was as good as any for a conversation between friends. She was playing with these thoughts in mind when the elevator stopped its ascent to the pilot room, where she saw Selphie sitting behind the flight control panel. Rinoa wondered what could be so important to warrant this urgent rendezvous. What was going on in her mind?
"Sefie?" she called out. The Trabian lass looked at her and smiled. Strange, Rinoa thought. Even her smile was somewhat melancholic. There was definitely something going on. "Hey, girl friend."
"Hi," Selphie returned while turning the pilot seat around to face her. That somber smile was still in Selphie's face as she placed both hands in between her bare knees. She shrugged a greeting at the sorceress, with the latter waving her hand back. "Thanks for coming."
'Thanks for coming'? Rinoa wondered. Whatever happened to 'WHOO-HOO! You're here!'?
"What's up?" Rinoa asked. Selphie heaved a deep breath, her eyes wandering about the cockpit whose interior was studded with technology. She then let out a sigh, and Rinoa didn't know if it was out of contentment or the lack thereof. But the look in Selphie's eyes reflected fondness.
"I just feel so at home in here," Selphie opened. "It's like… a part of me is right here within this place. Strange, huh."
"Not really. Some things are just homier to some people if you know what I mean. I feel the same way about the porch. Whenever I stay there, I could clear my mind easily and just think about the things that needed my attention. Maybe for you it's this place."
"Yeah. The thing is, I started feeling this way the first moment I flew this ship. You know, when we rescued you from Sorceress Memorial. The pilot seat just seemed to call out to me, as if inviting me to fly. And to think I haven't completed all flight training units yet."
"Uh huh…" Rinoa echoed. She'd pursue the conversation further if she didn't know this wasn't the reason why Selphie asked her here. "So what's up? Pretty strange place for us to meet."
"Like I said," Selphie voiced out, "I feel very much at home here, like I can talk freely about anything and… anyone."
At that point, Rinoa opted to keep quiet to prompt Selphie to start. The latter got the message.
"Oops! Sorry. I hope I'm not taking too much of your time."
More strangeness, Rinoa thought. And since when did Selphie become too meek to ask for her time? This was a girl who liked to tiptoe across the hallway en route to her quarters late at night. And once there, they'd just spend the time having some pleasant girl talk. Sometimes, she had to put up with the cutest pout in Garden if she was too tired or she had to get up early the next morning. But whatever the circumstance, Selphie had never had reservations in asking to spend time with her.
"No, not at all. So what's bothering you?"
Selphie's smile became even more sullen. "What made you think something's bothering me?"
All right. Time to be more direct.
"Sef, we've been friends for a long time now. Don't you think I'm not going to notice your behavior? Come on, girl friend, I can read you like an open book. What's the problem?"
Sure, Selphie thought. It seemed everyone had been reading her that clearly nowadays. But she didn't give a damn about other people. Only those that had been giving her confusion headaches. The thing was, she wasn't used to dealing with serious situations. The last serious situation she had to deal with was the destruction of Trabia Garden, and she didn't fare well back then. Graves of dead friends had never been something one could easily handle given any occasion.
But compared to what had been besetting her right now, Trabia's ill fate was a cakewalk. Tragedies had always had the morbid consolation of offering nothing to struggle against except for the pain of loss. And pain had never been a permanent affair. If a person became afflicted with it, all she needed to do was choke it down and let it pass.
No. It wasn't that simple. What she had right now was a dilemma of the heart. The tearing conflict of having to make a hard decision. Until she could come up with one, the pain of conflict and the fear of loss would always be there. And for the life of her, Selphie couldn't figure out what to do or how to get out of this dilemma.
"Rinny, have you…" she tried to start. And almost immediately, a large block became lodged in her throat. Selphie fought hard to free her emotions. "… ever been in a situation when you know you had to choose between two things… but you couldn't because either one you didn't choose would hurt you?"
Oh-kay… this is serious. Rinoa straightened up and started to pay more attention. "Um… I don't know. Like how exactly?"
Selphie drew a deep breath. She needed all the strength she could muster to express this debilitating problem. "Like… when there are two things you need to do, but you can only do one thing… and the other is… you know…"
Rinoa's eyebrows met. She didn't know what Selphie was driving at. Of course, she had an idea, but she needed more clarity.
"All right, let me rephrase it," Selphie finally said. "Have you ever been in a situation where you're committed to someone and then… unexpectedly… you fell in love with somebody else…?"
"Oh my goodness…" Now Rinoa's mind was clear to Selphie's problem. The first question that came out of her mouth was "Who's the other guy?"
Good, Selphie thought. Rinoa had the sense to be direct. Now all she had to worry about was breaking the actual bad news.
"It's… uh… Zell…"
Rinoa almost laughed. Zell? Was she serious? She couldn't be!
"Come on, Sef. Stop messing around. Who's the guy?"
Selphie accorded her with an incredulous smirk, as though she had just unleashed a stupid joke. But the tears that had started to flow from her eyes told Rinoa that she was dead serious.
"O-Oh no…!" the princess stuttered. "No… I can't believe this…"
"Well, believe it," Selphie insisted, half-chuckling and half-sobbing. Now Rinoa was sure they had a grave situation in their hands.
"Sef… when did this start?"
"That's the stink of it, Rinny!" Selphie bolted up and strode towards the back navigation panel, and made limp kicking movements against the instrument panel's base. "It's been going on for more than six months. It started when Zell and I were sent to that retrieval operation in Trabia. You know, the one when you, Squall and Irvine were in Esthar for the international peace summit."
The one where we almost died in the underground hangar… Rinoa pondered. "It's been going on that long?"
"Y-Yeah. Well… not exactly. Shortly after that, Zell and I realized we're not going anywhere because she's not ready to break up with Iris and I have the same issue with Irvine." Selphie's broken voice continued. "So we agreed to stop what we were doing and just… you know… walk away."
Rinoa's chest began pounding. "Stop what you're doing? What were you doing? Have you two already…" Her voice trailed in the midst of apprehension. Rinoa and Selphie had always been open to each other about everything, and they knew things about each other that they would never dare tell their respective beaus. Still, despite this closeness, Rinoa's voice tapered off. But not because she was ashamed to ask Selphie or thought that it was too private. They'd shared more precarious knowledge about anything and everything. Rather, it was because she was afraid of the answer.
And it turned out she didn't need to ask. Selphie bowed her head as her fists pounded lightly on legs exposed by the shortness of that cute, yellow dress.
"Yeah…" her voice slid out.
"Oh gosh…!" Rinoa stammered, after which her voice dropped down to a whisper. "So what now? Are… are you… pregnant?"
"No, I'm not," Selphie answered loudly. Rinoa shushed her before she continued talking. "I'm not pregnant. But that's not the issue here."
"Then what? Don't tell me. Right now, you're torn between Zell and Irvine, is that it?"
"Sort of."
Rinoa shot an incredulous reply. "'Sort of'?" How can a love triangle have a 'Sort of' setup when it was supposed to be pretty cut and dry? Girl loved guy, guy loved girl. But girl also loved another guy. Of course, the situation was made significantly worse by the fact that guy and another guy were best friends.
Selphie shook her head furiously. "Something like that. But it's more like…" she struggled to continue while her body sagged down as she sat on the floor with knees covering her face. "… I kinda feel in my heart that I love Zell more. But I couldn't accept the thought of leaving Irvine. I don't wanna hurt him. And… Zell said he feels the same way about Iris."
"Oh man… this sucks…"
"Why are you saying that, Rinny? I'm the one who's supposed to say that!"
"Yeah, but… I don't know what to tell you. I'd probably just jump off a cliff if I were in your situation."
"Rinoa, don't tempt me!" Selphie shot back, her tear-drenched eyes squinting painfully at her friend. Rinoa felt as though she had just been knocked out of a trance. What the hell was she saying?
"Oh! No, I didn't mean it that way. But Sefie… I don't know what to say. I've never been in that situation before. The most serious predicament I've had was choosing between Squall and Seifer, and that was before we visited Trabia two years ago. And that situation sort of resolved itself so… no… I don't know what to tell you."
Selphie's head bowed down again, as though she had just absorbed a humiliating defeat. Her body continued to tremble with sobs and muffled wails, projecting a very different picture of a girl whose utter perkiness had been the source of delight for some and annoyance for others. Now though, she was nothing more than a big heap of mess.
It took some time before the stressful silence inside the Ragnarok cockpit was broken by a tentative Rinoa's voice. "So what are you planning to do?" she slowly asked, anxious that in her current condition, Selphie might take her question the wrong way. The pause between her question and Selphie's broken reply was a little shorter.
"My plan?" The Trabian scoffed. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just gonna ride this out. Or maybe I'd request a transfer back to Trabia. After all, I've done what I came here to do; I'm already a SeeD. I should have done it a long time ago."
The thought of Selphie leaving stung Rinoa's heart. She had yet to recover from Quistis' departure and now, another one of her best friends was in danger of being separated from her. The prospect saddened her immensely. But like always, she placed her friend's interest over her own.
"Well… if you think that's the right thing to do, then do it. But…" she trailed before continuing. "Try to think about it first. You've invested so much of yourself in this Garden to simply leave everything behind just because of a boy. Try not to act too hastily, okay?"
"Sure. If I'm not dead yet for banging my head against the wall."
----------
He'd never imagined running to hurt this much. Pounding, pumping, pushing and pulling tired, aged legs over one of the most difficult terrains he had ever traversed, he thought he'd die with every excruciating step he took. He guessed it was natural. He was after all, already seventy years old. If it had been fifty years earlier, he could have easily outrun even the most vicious of Mesmerize stampedes. His arms could handily hoist his body up the steepest cliffs. His hands were still strong enough to twirl fifty-pound polearms on each one.
But that was way back in his prime, when he was twenty years old and one of the most accomplished combatants who ever donned the regal green Balamb military ensemble. Now fifty years older, most of his strength had already abandoned him. He guessed it was natural.
Well, it really wasn't. Being seventy shouldn't have relegated him in this weakened state. Not this early. It was something else, something he did in the past that he now regretted. Wanting to find more ways to further his warrior craft, the man with the thinning blonde hair chose to cheat by subjecting himself to an experiment intended to augment his physical prowess. The resulting chaos that saw him witness the murder of an innocent mother made him realize that he had just made the worst mistake in his life.
Now, that very same mistake he thought he had already surmounted had come back with a repercussion that was many folds more serious than before. He thought those interested in his role as a subject for study had already died out, mostly out of their own folly. He thought he was finally free of his error. But no. Almost fifty years of peace had ended on this day when a dozen armed men had begun pursuing him. What could they possibly want?
The answer was almost self-explanatory. Someone had once more taken interest to his role in that hellish experiment, and in the substances that lay dormant in his body. And whoever that someone was, he wanted him bad enough to penetrate through greenhorn morals and send a dozen pair of youthful legs against him. And they weren't pushovers. One look at them and he knew that they were trained warriors. And again, peace had abandoned his life.
The man continued running with hardly a destination in mind. All he wanted to do was get away from his pursuers. He couldn't possibly go through that ordeal again. He wouldn't. He'd rather die first than face the carnage of…
"Hey! I found him! He's here!!!"
Dammit! He was so occupied with looking behind him that he forgot to look in front. One of the hunters had circled around and managed to cut him off. He looked left and right, noting with desperation the high walls of rock and earth blocking all escape routes. He had no choice but to fight his way out of this.
"Not on your life, sonny!" he hollered in an effort to feign the strength he had lost. Leg muscles screamed in agony as he pushed hard to launch himself in the air, two leaden feet plummeting straight down towards his pursuer. The kick connected solidly to send the youngster rolling away. But he wasn't quick enough to pad his fall as his body fell limply on the rocky ground. The old man winced in pain.
Dammit! I'm too old for this!
He struggled to lift himself off the ground, but the weight of his long-dormant body and the weakness of his limbs gave enough time for the other pursuers to close in on him. Soon, the old man found himself surrounded.
"Pretty feisty for an old geezer." the leader of the pack grunted. "Now gramps, we don't wanna hurt you so let's just play nice and come along quietly."
"Like hell!" Two hands quickly plunged into the ground and emerged again holding a pair of rocks. He hurled one towards the leader and the other behind him. The rocks connected, sending blood flying from the heads of the two young warriors. "I'm not coming along THAT quietly!"
Taking advantage of the confusion, he started running again. He didn't notice a spark that flew off from his feet. And before he knew it, destructive Thunder magic had already enveloped him and paralyzed his body. The old man shrieked in pain as his nose smelled a whiff of burning flesh. His own flesh. Mercifully, the Thundaga attack ceased just before his heart completely stopped beating. The old man then fell unconscious on the ground.
Nine spiteful warriors gathered around his still form, with one of them pulling out a phone from his pocket.
"Yeah, it's me. Tell Mr. Markkon we have secured the package."
----------
It was funny how such a delicately pretty day could transform instantly into something that could give one a bad taste of rotten noodles, just because of one person's doing. All he had to do was open that toothy grin of his and let that voice echo to completely ruin the otherwise idle and leisurely day Irvine Kinneas had reserved for himself in this rare lull in his schedule.
Zeilgr Markkon, who used to be such an unassuming individual who just happened to be the governor of Galbadia's southwestern province of Winhill, and who now enjoyed the distinction of the very outspoken libeler of Balamb Garden, sat beside him in a slightly bent, slightly slouching manner, as if enjoying the rich Corinthian leather making up the interior seats of his seventy-four thousand gil Ravas Romero made-to-order luxury limousine. Irvine had to admit that he was also enjoying the leather and the ambience exuded by the car's interior. Too luxurious, he thought, for a mere governor. Bu he no longer bothered to ask where Markkon got the money to buy the wheels. Such questions often went hopelessly unanswered.
It was almost like a bad episode of 'Sleeping with the Enemy'. He knew the scheming enemy sitting beside him, breathing the thick, alcoholic interior air of the limousine. And Irvine knew he had no business being here. Not only because of Markkon's position as Garden's hostile critic and assailant, but also of himself as one of its foremost soldiers. What would his classmates say about him? Irvine should know better than to stay there. Besides, he had jumped out of vehicles moving much faster.
But something deep inside nagged on the gunslinger to give Markkon the time of day. And if there was one thing that Irvine had always abided to, that was to give credit to his instincts.
The unlikely pair ended up in a pub near the docks. Irvine was anxious. Understandably. Here he was right now, face to face with what was conceivably the most scheming opponent Garden ever had. And yet, he was sharing a beer with him. The gunman SeeD tried to fight the urge to secretly order a Badamb fish for Markkon.
"Do you know of a Carina Menken?" was the governor's abrupt question that startled Irvine. For a typically conniving politician, Markkon wasn't wasting any time.
"Not by any chance, no."
"Oh, I see. I see." Markkon fidgeted playfully. "Seems you've spent too much of your childhood in Galbadia Garden. You don't even know the Who's Who in Deling City."
"Ask me if I care."
Markkon ignored his snide rejoinder and continued. "The Menkens were a very prominent family back in Deling City during the time of the Sorceress War. They were a very, very rich clan. And needless to say, powerful."
Irvine frowned, beginning to think that he made a wrong decision in giving Markkon this leeway.
"Just cut to the chase, ok? What does this thing have to do with me?"
"The Menkens were a power-hungry lot," continued Markkon. "So much that they even influenced the Galbadian army to let them 'sponsor' this upstart captain to expedite his rise among the ranks of the military. You know the drill with this kind of thing."
"Yeah…" Irvine agreed albeit grudgingly. He was sure the entire Garden population agreed that nothing could feel more repulsive than concurring with Markkon.
"Fortunately for them, this young officer happened to be competent enough to merit some attention, and he would have risen just as speedily even without the Menkens' support."
The SeeD brushed his earthy ponytail aside, a typical symbol of his thinning patience. "So…?!?"
"Carina fell in love with this captain, who, for reasons unknown to myself, reciprocated her feelings. It could be because he liked her too. That, or maybe he just used her to bolster his hold to the family's favor. Nevertheless, the two of them started a relationship that lasted until…"
Markkon paused, accompanied by that same contemptuous smirk.
"Until…?" the gunman impatiently asked.
"This Galbadian officer met another woman."
Oh great… Irvine thought. "A love triangle. How exciting…"
"BUT…" Markkon suddenly blurted, mocking an action of holding his breath to further badger the already irritable SeeD.
"That's it. I'm outta here!" Irvine stood and started for the door. However, he had to stop abruptly upon hearing the Governor's next remark.
"Squad Pi Alpha would have been a great idea if it had succeeded."
The three-word code name exploded in his ears like a guffawing blast from the past. Irvine turned, frozen by the impact of Markkon's apparent knowledge of a clandestine operation that should only have been known between himself and a group of incognito Estharian operatives whom he thought long dead. The now alarmed SeeD slowly strode back towards the governor. He tried to hide the growing anxiety inside him as he voiced out the inevitable question.
"That's highly classified information. How did you know about it?"
Markkon kept smiling, prompting Irvine to reoccupy his seat.
"You were fifteen years old and already an accomplished marksman, the youngest Garden cadet ever to be officially categorized as a lethal weapon. Naturally, you're first pick when this secret Esthar hit force collaborated with an incognito Galbadian general to stage an assassination attempt against that arrogant tyrant, Vinzer Deling. You were to be the triggerman privileged to fire the bullet that they hoped would end the dictator's reign of terror."
Irvine maintained a stressful silence, his sentiment completely reversed. He now thought nothing could be more important than hearing out what else Markkon knew about his life.
"But Squad Pi Alpha failed, miserably if I might add. But you didn't even feel the repercussion of that failure because at the time, you were still safe in Galbadia Garden. The mission never got to the part of your participation. But…" the governor took a sip of wine before continuing, "we both know that's not the end of it."
"The Edea Liquidation Directive…" Irvine muttered. He felt a trace of lightness in his head for having recalled that hateful episode in his life.
"Very good, young lad. Do you know that you're the only one, aside from two others, who knew of that mission's official code name?"
"Two others?"
"Your former Garden Master, Martine Dodona… and…"
Irvine expected Markkon to name General Richard Caraway, the Galbadian officer who assisted them in the failed attempt at assassinating Sorceress Edea. But what he heard only furthered his confusion.
"… Carina Menken's old flame."
"What…?"
"The same young captain who later became general. Who later left the poor girl because of his knowledge of the Menken family's dark secret."
"D-Dark secret…?" Irvine's voice was now guttural, reflecting the growing trepidation inside him. There was a foreboding pattern in the way the conversation was shaping up. At first he regarded with nothing but annoyance how Markkon wasted his time with stories of flamboyant swinger generals who enticed rich socialites en route to dumping them for other girls. He had never liked soap operas. But now, he finally considered the possibility of all these things having some kind of connection with him and his past. And whatever it was, it scared him.
"Yes. The young gentleman claimed he had to let her go because he doesn't want to be tied to a family with a history of genetic insanity." Markkon tried to stifle a guffaw. "Horrible, isn't it?"
"I… I…" Irvine clutched his head upon feeling a bout of dizziness. He felt the urge to run away, but some force kept him glued to the rich, full-grained chair underneath him.
"Oh, you shouldn't feel despondent, young lad. Not yet anyway… Not until you hear that this young officer's decision of leaving Carina was further strengthened when he met this absolutely stunning pianist who worked for that plush night club in Galbadia Hotel."
"No…" the SeeD muttered, closing his eyes tight.
"We all know what happened next. This young general married the pianist, who by then had already become an extremely popular recording star, in one storybook-style wedding of the century that captured the hearts of every hopeless romantic on the face of the planet. You know, that's what I hate so much about being a celebrity. You can't do anything that those media vultures won't pounce at. It was a grand event. You should have seen it."
"But I didn't…" Irvine slowly spoke out… "Because…"
"Hey, hold on there. Let me finish." Markkon gestured for the waiter to deliver another bottle of expensive Chateau Lefite Rothschild before continuing his tale. "The event wasn't exactly unscathed by complications. But there was nothing that really ruined it. The young general did a great job… of hiding the fact that the scorned Carina Menken was able to seduce him into… you know… on the night before the wedding. And…"
Zeilgr Markkon's vile grin grew even wider. He waited for Irvine to meet his gaze, but the SeeD kept his head low. Markkon would have wanted to see the burning look of confusion in Irvine's eyes, but his staggered expression had to suffice. Besides, the bomb hadn't really detonated yet. But that was next.
"Three guesses on what that night resulted to. Or rather… WHO that night resulted to."
Him. No rhetoric, no attempt at being enigmatic. It was simply obvious. Markkon was saying that he, Irvine Kinneas, was the illegitimate son of Galbadian war hero General Richard Caraway.
The very thought of it threatened to rip his mind apart. Consequently, a vindictive volcano suddenly went alive inside him, spewing thick smoke and glowing clouds of angst and hatred that Irvine never even thought he was capable of feeling. What Markkon told him couldn't have been true. It just couldn't. How could he possibly take a revelation like this? That he…
His body took on a life of its own, his face contorted into the most menacing scowl he could muster.
"YOU LYING SCUMBAG! YOU KNOW I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS!!!"
"Think, boy!" Markkon countered. "Galbadia Garden had been conducting marksmanship electives for native, transfer and exchange students from other Gardens. Why do you think Caraway chose you to be Squad Pi Alpha's triggerman? Both it and the Edea Directive had one mastermind and you know it. Why do you think he sent YOU to get his daughter out of that desert prison? Didn't you even wonder HOW you ended up in Galbadia Garden to start with?!?"
The enraged SeeD forcefully stood up, pushing his chair aside violently. The other customers of the pub became frightful when, with feverishly shaking hands, Irvine drew his silverized rifle and aimed it straight towards Zeilgr Markkon. The muzzle that helped destroy doomsday monsters and nihilistic sorceresses glared directly on his mortal face, but the governor remained unfazed as he continued with his psychological barrage.
"You know in your heart I'm not the real enemy. Think about it. What would you do if some uncaring, poor excuse for a man sires you, and then forcibly snatches you from your mother before unceremoniously sending her away?" Markkon nonchalantly attended to his drink. "And yet, he still kept you from the world, unscrupulously denying you and disowning you just to protect his 'good' name."
Much as he hated to admit it, his heart concurred with the governor. Irvine's teeth clashed violently in anger as he felt his legs stiffen, and then soften, as his quivering body began to sink into a kneeling despair. Unrelenting, Markkon left him a most dreadful suggestion before leaving.
"If I were you, I'd… well… kill him. But that's just me."
He lost track of how long he knelt there. But finally, the stunned Irvine struggled to lift himself up and slowly make his way toward the door. He felt his legs buckle again as a refreshing breeze of Balamb air blew into his face, but failed to do anything to alleviate his current state of embattlement. He closed his eyes, pictured a hideous sight in his mind, and then murmured a quiet apology to the one person who would be affected most with this dark train of thoughts.
Now how would he handle that one person? Just a month ago, Irvine felt sorry that he wasn't chosen to be Rinoa's partner in a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven. Not that he was starting to lose his devotion to Selphie. It was far from that. But come on, what guy in his right mind wouldn't jump at an opportunity to make out with Rinoa Heartilly?
He would be throwing up right now if he had been the one who spent seven minutes inside a dark closet with his own sister.
End of Chapter VII
