Author's Notes – Hiya. Long time no see. I'm not going to lie, up until April, I'd been blocked. Not writing-wise, but rather story-plotting-wise. Confused? I'll explain.

See, my last fic (Reinventing Me) was an experiment in not having much structure chapter-wise. I had overall plot points figured out, but there still wasn't much structure. The problem there was that by having so little planned, I found that I was often prone to undermining what little plot points I planned out and wanted to have happen.

Blur was meant to be a return to form in planning chapters out (with a bit of wiggle room, of course), similar to what I had done with Locked Inside all those eons ago.

So now you're probably wondering, that's all fine and dandy but what does that have to do with you being such a lazy bum and not updating for half a year?

Honestly, I was so stuck on one vital point which occurs later on, I'd go back and forth on it, wondering what would be best for the story. I know, it seems like a lame reason not to update when this doesn't affect current chapters, but I really do not want to repeat what happened with RM as this is really meant to be a little simpler in terms of story. (Can you hear me snorting at this line? Everything I ever do always refuses to remain simple.)

Luckily after doing a bit of back and forth with Kris, I've got a better idea of where I am headed and — more importantly — made peace with the indecision eating at me. …And then the lovely world of exams was bestowed upon me so I still didn't have time.

Lovely crop of excuses, no?

Anyway, might as well get on with things and present to you a shower scene that pretty much lasts the whole chapter. You'd think that'd make it rather sexy, but no, it really isn't.

(I am not kidding about that last paragraph. Although, that's partly because this'll be a bit shorter so I can just get a chapter out there after being out of it for so long. It might be boring so bear with me here; it'll get better with following chapters.)

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Chapter X — Push

("Remaining static, complacent...it feels like defeat.")

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Friday, July 9th (Afternoon, Day 2)

"...I don't need the help."

Dr. Kadowaki gave Squall a large smirk as she loosely tied the top knot on the back of his gown, having just added water-proof coverings to both his dressings. "I figured you'd say as much but I thought I'd ask since Addison was going to be here anyway. Very well then. I'll be a few moments preparing everything. I'll let you know when it's ready."

Before he could even nod, Dr. Kadowaki turned around and disappeared into the other half of the infirmary and beyond his sight from the vantage point he had by lying down on his bed. Unwittingly rubbing the side of his face with his left hand, the waxen feel of his skin and oily residue from an errant tendril of hair made him stop right then and there.

It had been a few days since he'd had been able to take a shower. Although it wasn't like he was completely unpresentable, it was enough to drive Squall, a creature of habit and taker of daily showers, insane. Luckily for him, the doctor was of similar mind and two steps ahead.

So here he was, waiting for things to be done so he could remove all this grime and do something other than lying in bed, effectively achieving nothing of note, for a change. Sadly, the inability to accomplish anything seemed to be becoming a pattern, it seemed. Or at least to him it did.

The detailed description Rinoa gave Quistis netted the latter nothing in her search. They'd complied all of the pictures from the matches they'd found for a man in his mid-to-possibly-late-twenties, standing much taller than the commander — making him well over six feet at the very least — with blond hair, lighter-coloured eyes — light blue, maybe grey — thin lips and a narrow nose in both B and G-Garden's various logs, including those detailing the outside labour hired for Trabia's reconstruction for good measure, and the patients admitted in Timber and Balamb hospitals in the past 48 hours for suspicious wounds for Rinoa to look at.

As she'd pored through the pictures displayed on the laptop without so much of a peep, not even the faintest flicker of emotion registering on her face, it became obvious fairly fast that they'd hit a dead end. When Rinoa had suggested that perhaps she had been wrong about the age and asked that Quistis try running another search with a lower age bracket, it only achieved to magnify this fact even more so, proving to be just as fruitless the second time around. To add insult to injury, Seifer's name had somehow made it in from Balamb's log. Rinoa awkwardly tried to lighten the mood by half-heartedly, not to mention painfully, joking that maybe the ex-knight had a long-lost brother who was, quote-unquote, "out for blood or something."

It was at that nadir when they knew they'd truly hit a roadblock.

Sliding over to the left side of the bed, Squall began the methodical steps to get into the wheelchair. This consisted of the commander leaning heavily on his left side, keeping the movements slow and controlled with the aid of his abdominal muscles, and biting back the vulgarities on his tongue from the nuisances which the trying process inevitably arose.

Once Squall began to wheel himself over to the foot of the bed, it felt as though there was added resistance to even get as far as that. Though he always had to manually drag himself forward with his left foot in the wheelchair, his movements this time around felt more laboured and brusque. What little mobility his affected side could offer as aide was now lost. Before, he didn't want to risk aggravating the wounds despite the limited motion his right side could have potentially contributed. Now, he was starting to reconsider how lightly he'd used the term 'dead weight' before.

He took a slight breath and propelled himself around the bed with two fast and jerky manoeuvres, relieved that his knees had not collided with Dr. Kadowaki's desk because of the wide arc. Not falling out of the wheelchair was also a good thing too.

As a small sigh died on his lips, he looked down at his right hand languidly resting on the wheelchair's arm with contempt.

"Everything is ready now."

Squall's head suddenly jerked upward to lock eyes with the doctor. "Ok."

The commander carefully wheeled himself forward with a particularly-calculated effort to maintain the full control which had eluded him earlier to avoid piquing the doctor's interest, not to mention bringing about the possibility of her changing her mind on allowing him to wash up without help; he damn-well made sure that his steps carried enough force and weight not to move at an Adamantoise's pace but restrained enough in speed to be able to make a controlled turn.

Right after he passed through the opened door, Dr. Kadowaki did not remain at the side of it, entering in the room right behind him. She grabbed the towel from the corner of the bathtub and handed it to him.

"I've filled two buckets of warm water inside the tub; the red bucket has soapy water in it for washing and the blue one is just regular water for rinsing everything off. The sponges and shampoo are nearby those. Don't worry about the door if you can't nudge it closed; there won't be enough water dripping from the sponges to get outside the bathtub. Just make sure you don't get your sutures wet and if you have any problems, don't hesitate to yell."

After half-heartedly nodding, she left him alone so he could inspect the accessible tub in solitude.

Three-quarters the size of a regular tub nestled in the far left corner of the bathroom, the two open sides were encased with a semi-opaque plastic curtain overtop with a slit in the middle of where the door was; it ran up three-quarters of the curtain length and lined with snaps on either side of it, making it a closable flap of sorts. Needless to say, the flap was left open at the moment.

Once he wheeled himself to the open space left by the open tub door, Squall could see the buckets left for him and the seat affixed to the end opposite of the showerhead. His eye couldn't help but notice the individual liquid soap and shampoo dispensers mounted mid-way up the wall or the additional cloths atop of them and the handrails flanking either side, however.

Without much further thought, Squall hung the towel on the section of ledge on the right, nudging the door shut with his left foot. He then proceeded to lean heavily on his left side to reach through the slit and grab the lip of the red bucket with his left hand, angling it downward to make its contents freely spill out and cascade around the tub's bottom. After taking the bucket out after it was thoroughly emptied, he repeated the same process for the blue bucket and effectively undid everything Dr. Kadowaki had prepared.

Soon after he made quick work of the knots holding sides of the gown together, Squall let the sleeves slide down his arms and the gown pooled into his lap. Placing it by the towel, the commander locked the brakes on the wheelchair and planted his good foot down inside the tub itself, keeping a low center of gravity so he could rely more on his left leg's muscles for stability to reduce the possible damage in the event of a fall. The plan worked without fail and he was able to latch onto handrail without incident, pulling himself up to full height slowly.

Though Squall conceded that nothing could have been done about the door, the amount of water bound to leak over the tub's bottom lip without being caught by the shower curtains was negligible and he couldn't care less over what could easily be mopped up with the towel he had. Shifting his body around enough for his back to face the wall and to willingly let the closest handrail bar to the showerhead dig into it in exchange for further stability, Squall reached for the shower knob and gave it a twist leftward.

As the cold, misty spray hit Squall's face and most of his torso with an icy tingle, irrational sense of pride flooded through him. He knew this endeavour was asinine on multiple levels and that he'd probably get shit for it later with the likelihood of loud echoes giving away what he'd done because of the lack of carpeting, but damn it all, it was as necessary as it was unnecessary.

All he needed to do was look at his lifeless right arm to know that it was.

Breaking out of his reverie as the water warmed up some a half-minute later, Squall kept his left forearm and elbow flush to get out of the leaning position he'd put himself in. Once he was back at full height, he grabbed onto the left handrail for a moment to fully steady himself before moving on to cupping his hand below the button for the shampoo dispenser and pressing it with palm.

As he lathered up his hair with the same hand, he retained his stability without much trouble for the most part and repeated the process for the cloth he covered in liquid soap and scrubbed as much skin as he could reach to the best of his ability shortly after. Once the last of the suds disappeared into the drain, Squall didn't bother to lean against the wall as a precaution and opted to drop the cloth and reach for the knob standing up this time.

With the din of the spray gone and nothing further to do other than get out and dry off, the commander couldn't help but succumb to the need to close his eyes and grasp the last few remaining moments of this peaceful seclusion as the rest of the droplets freely meandered down his body.

But it all just slipped through his fingers the moment he tried to grab hold of it.

Opening his eyes not even a minute later, he realized that the effort seemed futile. He was never one to do well with time to silently reflect anyway; the stillness of any given room never failed to provoke the darker recesses of his mind to procure unwanted thoughts that din and menial tasks expertly kept at bay. So why would that change now?

In this silence, all he could think of was Rinoa.

He thought of how he'd effectively caged her here with no resolution looming on the horizon promising to set her free and back home to Timber any time soon with all these dead-ends cropping up. He thought about how part of him was kind of glad she'd be near him for a longer period of time though the other part of him was disgusted by the very thought of taking any kind of delight in such an circumstance, scared of it even. He thought about how she was hurting and he couldn't do fuck-all without jeopardizing her recovery. He just…thought about a lot of things, things strung together with a thread of guilt.

Squall was almost too busy thinking of her to notice her muffled cries coming from the other side of the door.

But he did hear her in the end.

He'd heard her because he the instant that stabbing sensation came back in full force once more and he felt like his insides were being hacked to bits, he'd lost his balance after accidentally putting weight on his wounded leg. The last-ditch effort to grab one of the handrails lessened the impact but it didn't change the end result.

He'd fallen with a loud clatter and it wasn't long before he could see blood saturating both dressings amid the slowly-subsiding pain, eventually leaking through the gaps in the tape holding the waterproof covers altogether.

As he was stripped of all dignity when Dr. Kadowaki came into the bathroom to pick him up, hastily clean the wounds and shoot him dirty looks, he could hear her sobs of pain as clear as day through the split second the bathroom door was open.

…This has got to be related to her, he hazily thought, it just has to. But what does it mean? Why hasn't it happened until now? Are we dying?