Author's Notes – So far so good even though I ruined my streak again. Oh well, getting engrossed in books will do that from time to time. This one's a tad longer with some tidbits about the background so...hope you like. I'm just really glad I could manage the whole, update on my birthday tradition thingy for the third year in a row. (Sorry if there are any typos at the moment.)

Oh, and I made a couple of references in this chapter to other people's works. Try to see if you can find them!

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Chapter VI — Observe

("All I can do is watch and wonder what'll happen next.")

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Thursday, July 8th (Afternoon, Day 1)

He had been more-or-less ordered to rest up following the incident with Rinoa and his own. 'No ifs ands or buts, you go rest now.' Dr. Kadowaki told him right after helping to ease him back into his chair with her brusque actions. Never mind having her expose him in the privacy of the bathroom, getting manhandled into the seat with Rinoa to watch was by far more embarrassing.

Still, even as he reflected upon the memories of a few hours ago, those were just minor footnotes in the larger story overall. A few minutes after he was back into his seat and told to go back to rest in his own bed, he wheeled himself to the aforementioned bed but could not seemingly summon the energy to lift himself into it at that point. A good chunk of his right side was still plagued with pins and needles and, more importantly, he just didn't care enough to do so right then.

Just sitting in the wheelchair beside the bed and, with nothing really to look at, he lazily watched the opaque glass in front of him, trying to ignore the racket emanating from the other side. Fate decidedly had other plans when the tinted window suddenly became transparent again, as the noises all tied into why that was. The cart Dr. Kadowaki was using had accidentally bumped into the switch responsible for the window's opacity and she had not noticed the change, primarily facing the other way. Even when she was facing him, she wasn't looking up, working on cleaning the wound up and prepping it for new stitches; she never caught on. Neither did Rinoa.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, obviously focused on avoiding the sight of her stomach; she was covered from her waist down and chest up, but the wound was there for him to see in all its messy crimson-tinged glory. With a morbid, and possibly masochistic, curiosity taking hold, Squall couldn't look away for the life of him.

He wondered how she'd handle having the future scar her wound would yield once it healed. It was never a commonality they'd shared but one he knew she'd always been curious about, remembering a particular memory around the same time last year.

"Hey Squall, I got a question for you. Think you could answer it?" she asked, sitting cross-legged on the other end of the couch. Mentally noting that the documents were on her lap instead of her hands, Squall tossed her a skeptical look from his end.

"Not if it doesn't have anything to do with the tactical strategies."

Rinoa rolled her eyes, adjusting one of the thin straps of her tank top. "For the record, choosing not to is different from not being able to. Besides, all I wanted to ask is how in the blue blazes you're not dying of heat in your bomber jacket right now."

He shrugged. "I'm just used to it."

"Alright...but it's still summer." she pointed out. "Why do you always insist on wearing it when you come to Timber? I mean, it's not surgically attached to you in secret, is it?"

"...Of course not."

"So...do you take it off to sleep, shower and send it to the cleaners when it gets really dirty?"

Squall irritably sighed. "Quit trying to be cute."

"Alright, alright. I still find it weird that I've never seen your arms. Or legs for that matter." she replied. Then a light bulb went off in her head. "Wait. Are you allergic to the sun?"

"No."

After the monosyllabic reply, she finally gave up and returned to looking through her papers, albeit half-heartedly under the heat of the air-conditioner-less living room. He couldn't blame her in the slightest though. It was more humid than merely hot here; something that Balamb and Timber greatly differed on weather-wise. As much as he didn't want to admit it, it was even getting to him as well.

"Ok, I officially can't think anymore." she declared after about five minutes of struggling with the charade as she unceremoniously dumped the papers on the floor. "I need to find a pool or a bath full of ice cubes A-S-A-P."

Despite her declarations, he had continued long after she'd left the couch and the room altogether. But there was only so much he could do or try before even he had to succumb to the sweltering heat. While she was still gone, he took off the jacket and placed it in the middle of the couch, past the papers. It still wasn't nearly enough to deal with the humidity, but his pride would not allow for anything more; come hell or high water, wearing the leather pants and v-neck tee would have to do.

"Wow...now this is a surprise." her voice chirped.

He made the mistake of looking back with the intention of quipping something back at her.

Though he was not a man of many words in the first place, the fact that nothing left his mouth right then still didn't go unnoticed for long; Rinoa had too keen a sense for picking out moments to tease him with, as seldom as they occurred.

"—And judging from the look on your face, it seems like you're as surprised as I am."

He casually wiped away the sweat collecting on his brow before he replied with, "First you tease me for wearing the jacket, then you tease me for taking it off. Pick one or the other, preferably neither."

Far faster he would have ever expected, he heard the words, "Ok, ok, I'll stop. Truce?"

While his curiosity was undoubtedly piqued, experience told him that truces were more like traps when it came to her. Empty promises meant to lull him into a false sense of security until the next joke or prank she'd pull ten minutes later. Still, it didn't change the fact that his curiosity was indeed piqued.

Right then, she extended her hand. "C'mon, drop the papers and let's go find someplace to cool down. If I can't even concentrate on this stuff right now, I couldn't expect you to either."

Gathering up all his papers so they made a neat pile, Squall handed them to her; this made her smirk. Judging by the way she hastily tucked the papers underneath her other arm, he concluded she hadn't extended her hand to him for that reason.

Even still, he got up on his own and she moved the side, picking up the other thicket of paper on the floor shortly after to combine it with the stack she had. As she put both on the nearby coffee table on the right side of the couch, he simply stood there, waiting for the moment she'd turn around and officially declare her intentions to go to a pool or possibly hijack someone's sprinkler; something she was unofficially declaring at the moment when he noticed she'd swapped her tank top for a ruby-red bandeau bathing suit top minutes ago.

Soon enough, she turned around to face him with a warm, yet strangely sympathetic look on her face.

"I didn't think I would have ever guessed that was why you were so adamant about wearing that coat all the time."

He tilted his head a little. "...I'm not following you."

"That." She pointed to his right forearm. "It doesn't look new."

Squall raised the arm in question and suddenly realized what she was referring to, what he'd forgotten about. Upon the particular realization that he'd forgotten completely, he couldn't help but think that old ruses died just as hard as old habits.

"Its not."

"Is there a story behind it or was it just another case of Seifer getting under your skin?" she asked, trying to joke. The polite chuckles which followed told another story, giving away her trepidation. He couldn't blame her for her fears though; it's why he wore the coat in the first place.

"No, Seifer had nothing to do it for a change." he began to explain. "To make a long story short, I was fifteen and it happened when I was trying to practice gunblade techniques on my own in the Training Center. Lost my grip on Revolver's hilt in mid-air and without thinking, I tried to grab the blade with my right hand. I didn't catch it and it didn't end pretty but I was lucky that I didn't bleed out. Unfortunately, it brought me more attention than I would have liked afterwards because it looked as if I'd tried to slit my wrist. I wasn't about to tell everyone the truth because it wasn't any of their business. That approach didn't make matters any better though."

"So you started wearing the coat then?"

"Pretty much." he answered. "It was easier just to receive detention for violating the dress code rather than to wear the long-sleeved winter uniform in the summer. Eventually, people forgot about the scar like I'd anticipated and teachers stopped bothering to write me up for not wearing my uniform when it became obvious that I wasn't learning anything from it."

"Smart move." she said with a smile. "I'm glad that it wasn't anything too serious, well, I mean it was but...you know what I meant."

"I know what you meant." he repeated.

"Thanks."

After she said her thanks, Rinoa raised her hand to her face, her expression filling with what he figured was thought, thought most likely directed towards the plan of action, something he'd previously assumed she'd already mapped out. Standing still, just a few steps away from her, he felt as though he had the lion's share thought-wise, namely this previously unheard of inclination rapidly taking up valuable grey matter.

On a whim, he just let it go, let it materialize. "It did bother me a little."

This caught her attention; the hand was now at her side. "Hm?"

Now he was on the fence. Continue or withdraw?

"The scar." he elaborated a moment later, cementing his choice indefinitely. "Reminded me of my stupidity. Didn't care for the one on across my nose either but I...obviously didn't have the luxury of hiding that one."

The smile on her face returned. "Thanks for sharing that with me. I really appreciate it." she told him. Shortly after, he couldn't help but notice that she was fidgeting a little, making him wonder if he'd made her uncomfortable with that admission; then she started to talk again. "Um...I was thinking of going swimming but the place I'm thinking of going to wouldn't be alright with you going in just your boxers and so...would it be okay if I just bought you some swim trunks as a birthday present and then we could do something fun after swimming?"

"You don't have to do that Rinoa. I can buy my own."

"But I want to something for your birthday." she replied. "I'd feel crummy if you had to pay for something that was my idea in the first place."

"Actually..." Here came the part he wanted to avoid. "...my birthday isn't today."

"It isn't? Ugh. Zone and his faulty intelligence reports again." Rinoa grumbled. "How far am I off by?"

"Twenty days." he told her. "Now I'm curious though. How did he get that date?"

"Um...he tried hacking into the birth certificate registry in Winhill."

Squall couldn't help but look at her incredulously. "Rinoa, we've both seen what Winhill is like. There's no way they'd keep a computer birth certificate database, let alone a computer."

"Um...he tried hacking into the zipped up compartment of your bag where your Garden ID was the last time you came here. I caught him trying to get dirt on you and told him that if he didn't tell me your birthday I'd totally rat him out to you. Guess he didn't see the 2 in 23."

While the incredulous look faded, a rare amused look emerged in its stead. "...Still doesn't trust me after a year of helping out with the tactical aspects of your plans?"

Rinoa shook her head vigorously. "Nope. Still thinks there's something fishy about your motivations for helping us out with no pay."

He sighed. "Tried pointing out the vague wording of your contract or the indiscriminate pay system Garden has for SeeD?"

"I could have but I didn't." she honestly answered. "It's more fun to watch him be irrationally suspicious. Plus he keeps you on your toes this way. I'm sure you've noticed during the meetings with the three of us."

Oh yeah, he was definitely kept on his toes with his random dirty looks and the memorable instance where he protested, 'I don't know Squall...Lauren doesn't sound like a good name for Rinoa's fake alias at this hotel party. She looks more like a Camilla to me, don't you agree Rinoa?'

He wanted to snort at the thought. Yeah...right.

"That time he complained about my undercover name doesn't count."

Squall tilted his head a little. "How did you-"

"-Know you were thinking about that?" she finished, never really giving him much of a chance to answer, "I didn't. Just made a guess after seeing your lip curl a little bit and got lucky. Glad to know you're not a complete puzzle to me though."

"I could always start speaking to you in ancient Centran if the prospect of that is too much." he dryly replied.

This earned him a playful punch in the arm. "No, don't do that. I have enough trouble following you as it is sometimes. But do you actually know how to speak ancient Centran?"

He nodded.

"Am I the only one who knows that you can?"

He nodded again.

"Oh wow." she mumbled. "I wish I could tell you something about me that's as interesting to return the favour."

"Doesn't have to be as interesting as you think it has to be." he told her. Rinoa blinked.

"Seriously? You want to know some useless fact about me?"

Squall shrugged. "Don't see why not. Ancient Centran is useless for the most part."

Without warning, she placed the palm of her hand over his forehead. "Okay...you feel way too hot for my liking. We need to find you some cold tap water right away before you sprout any more delirious ideas. But in all seriousness, I thought of one thing if you honestly want me to share something."

While Squall would be the first to acknowledge that his unexplained behaviour as of a few minutes ago was probably throwing her through a huge loop, he could also tell that she did appreciate the idea on some level, but something was obviously holding her back even more. It was easy not wanting to care, but following through was a whole other story, especially with the right company.

He didn't know what possessed him to flip that switch for today, whether it was the heat or the fact that he was comfortable with his monthly, sometimes bi-monthly visits over the past year to help her and the other Owls out with their planning, but he just wanted to follow through instead of the same old song and dance.

"Sure."

"...Okay." Clearing her throat a little, she continued. "Right after my mother died when I was little, I hid in my family's library, reading all the storybooks that my mother used to read over and over until I'd fallen asleep and my father found me and carried me back to bed. I started to make a habit of this for awhile and my teachers started to notice how much faster I read than the other kids after a few months of this. By the age of nine, I could already speed read."

"Can you still?"

She nodded. "Well, except for where Ancient Centran is concerned, yeah, I could probably read you under the table though I do better with stories rather than papers with tons of legalese."

"...Or legal bullshit."

She smirked. "That too." she concurred. "So...you want to go bathing suit hunting now? I bet I could find you a cute one with—"

"—Whatever you're thinking, please stop if it involves chocobos in any shape or form."

"Aw. You're no fun when you're playing psychic."

"...When have I ever been fun?"

Still watching the scene unfold, Squall admitted that maybe the memory he'd just recalled wasn't the one he meant to recall, that one occurring a couple of weeks later, but never the less, it wasn't a memory worth forgetting or discarding. This was something he wished he could forget.

But reality was never one to be particularly kind, at least not to him. That had been a lesson he'd learned far too long ago.