Chapter 12: Let the Games Begin
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, this is Kelsie Reynolds for Deling City Action News and I'm at the International Stadium here in Deling City with my co-host Ron Jackson. We're here to help kick off the fourth running of the SeeD games. The opening ceremonies are going to be starting in just a few minutes, and as you can see, the level of excitement here is just incredible!"
The camera panned out and showed a large, noisy crowd gathered in the stadium behind the announcer's booth. The camera focused back onto the blond newscaster, who looked over at her partner and he took up the narrative from there.
"That's right Kelsie. This is Galbadia's first time hosting these games, which occur at five-year intervals. Just a little background here on these events: SeeD is the military arm of the Garden military academies, which have been in existence for twenty years now. These academies train children as young as five years old up to the age of twenty, where they can graduate and join the ranks of SeeD as elite soldiers of fortune. SeeD is dispatched all over the world on various military and security missions. In addition, they participate in humanitarian efforts and disaster relief, as well as assisting and supporting local police agencies." The male newscaster paused and took a drink of water, allowing Kelsie to take up the narrative again.
"That's correct, and that last fact was illustrated brilliantly a few weeks ago here during a hostage standoff that eventually required a SeeD-trained sniper to resolve it." Kelsie supplied, then she continued, saying, "These games are a contest among all the SeeDs from the various Garden Academies in Galbadia, Trabia, Balamb, and the new one in Esthar, as well as the naval arm of SeeD, the White SeeDs. Given the military nature of the participants, the coming events are sure to be extreme and exciting. They are going to be competing in a mixture of standard sporting events such as track and field, basketball, tennis, swimming, rugby, weightlifting and gymnastics, and the more military oriented events such as mixed martial arts, shooting, fencing, both standard and, unique to SeeD, gunblade fencing, and the final event, which is also notorious for being the most dangerous event in these games, the A-level combine."
"Hey Sashi! Has it started yet?" Jenna asked, hurrying into their shared living room and plopping onto the couch with a bowl of popcorn. Sashi and her friend Carly both shook their heads in answer.
"Not really, just the announcers doing their spiel. The opening ceremonies should be starting in a few minutes though." Sashi answered.
"Are Mick and Kev coming?" Jenna asked.
"Nah, they don't care about the opening ceremonies, they're going to wait until the actual events get started. So they'll be here tomorrow for the first day." Sashi said.
"Well I want to see them." Jenna said.
Carly shrugged, "It's all military. Not like they're going to have the latest pop star doing a song and dance routine."
"So you think it'll be boring." Sashi stated.
"Probably." Carly said.
"Well, we'll see, it's starting now." Sashi said.
They watched as the announcer introduced the various garden academies, first being the host, Galbadia Garden's team. In a sense, the opening ceremonies were boring. It was more like a military review, with each team marching in formation, all in full dress uniforms.
The camera focused on each academy's team, led by the team captain, as they entered and formed up, facing the grandstand and the stage on the field.
When Balamb Garden's team was introduced, the camera focused on Squall as he led them in, and the girls gasped.
"Oh my GOD!" Jenna exclaimed.
"He cut his hair? Why?" Sashi wailed.
"I kind of like it." Carly said, smiling. Jenna and Sashi both glared at her.
"I liked it the way it was." Sashi said sadly. Jenna shushed her turned up the sound, and they all focused on the television screen.
It was a last minute decision on Squall's part. His hair wasn't long enough for him to get away with pulling it back into a ponytail. When he'd attempted it, he quickly decided it looked stupid, and he didn't have the patience or time at this point, to grow it long enough so that it wouldn't look stupid. He hadn't cut his hair in ages, and it had gotten to the point that he'd either have to cut it or deal with trying to run a marathon, fence and participate in the combine with his vision compromised by his overly long forelock. It wouldn't do, so he'd made a strategic decision to get it out of the way.
The look of shock that everyone, particularly Rinoa, displayed when he showed up at the stadium in full dress uniform with a regulation "high 'n tight" haircut made the sacrifice worthwhile.
The opening ceremonies promised to be horrendously boring, in Squall's honest opinion. Basically, all the teams would be standing in formation at parade rest for the duration of the thing. Fortunately, he wasn't going to have to do the speech and officially open the games. That would be Cid's job, as the founder of the garden academies and SeeD.
As he and the team formed up at attention and saluted, then went to parade rest, Squall scanned the crowd, amazed at seeing so many people in one place. It was definitely an event that would attract a lot of attention, but given that it was the SeeD games and not the International Games, he'd have thought that there would be less interest in seeing it. Apparently, that was not the case.
His gaze strayed to a section that had been reserved for family and friends of the participants, and he was gratified to see both Rinoa and Laguna sitting there, side by side. Ellone unfortunately had not made it. That left him feeling somewhat disappointed. He'd worried that Rinoa wouldn't feel up to coming, but she'd improved over the last couple of weeks, regaining some of her lost weight. Her stomach was still a little touchy, but it wasn't as bad as it had been. That eased his worry for her a little bit.
He smiled slightly when he caught Laguna's astounded expression at his new look after Rinoa pointed him out. He glanced off to the side and saw the huge video screen displaying the entire array of teams, and was annoyed when the camera focused on him for a moment before thankfully shifting to the stage on the field and General Caraway who was, as Galbadia's official representative, giving the welcoming address before Cid's remarks.
Squall did his best to relax while at parade rest and schooled his face into its usual blank expression so as not to give away his boredom while Caraway and then Cid gave their speeches. The flags of Galbadia, Balamb, Trabia and Esthar were ceremoniously presented and raised, along with the flags bearing the emblem of SeeD and the White SeeD. This was the first time that White SeeD had bothered to participate in the games, and their entrance, in their pristine white uniforms as a contrast to everyone else's dark olive, caused a sensation.
Irvine too was trying to avoid displaying how bored he was with the proceedings. Scanning the crowd, he sighed when he saw that Selphie had not made it. She had left for Esthar that morning in the Ragnarok to take her test, and apparently had not made it back yet. He still couldn't believe that Squall had gone and cut his hair off. He didn't figure his friend for being overly vain, but he did notice that over the last few years his hair had been maintained at a certain length, and it never seemed to change in any detectable way. When Squall had patiently explained his reason for the drastic change, he couldn't fault his logic. For Irvine to cut his hair however would require an event of apocalyptic proportions.
When he'd gotten over his shock, he began to notice that Squall was secretly enjoying the reactions he got, even going so far as to impishly place his finger under Rinoa's jaw to close her mouth after it had dropped open at the sight. Then he'd given her a quick kiss before forming everyone up to march out onto the field.
"Its too bad Ellone couldn't make it tonight." Rinoa commented as she watched the action (or lack thereof) on the field.
"I know, but honestly, I think she'll have a better time watching the events on T.V. tonight and watching everything live here tomorrow." Laguna said, watching the huge video screen showing the participants and still trying to wrap his head around his son's new look. It had taken his demeanor a short step from formidable to positively forbidding. It was hard to believe he was still only twenty.
Rinoa nodded, "Yeah, I can't fault that logic. I know Squall would like to see her here in the stands at the finish of the marathon though."
Laguna shook his head, "I still can't believe he's taking this on. How is he going to do all three events? Is he going to have enough recovery time in between?"
"You obviously have no idea how driven he can be when he gets his teeth into something." Rinoa said seriously, then added, "but to answer your question, yes, he'll have enough time to recover. He checked the scheduling of the events before he even tried to qualify for them."
"And his rivalry with Seifer had nothing at all to do with this, right?" Laguna said drolly.
"Oh, it had everything to do with it. But I could tell he was seriously enjoying the challenge." Rinoa smiled. All of Squall's training, in spite of the time he devoted to it, had produced a side benefit that Rinoa was very happy about. Squall's build ordinarily tended toward wiry leanness, a side effect of his tendency to forget meals. And while runners also tend toward a lean build, Squall hadn't just been running. He had for a change been very conscientious about eating properly and the mixture of activities he'd engaged in had caused him to actually gain weight. All of it muscle, and all of it damn good looking on him.
It was enough to drive his hormone-addled wife crazy. Still in the dark about the cause of those hormones, Squall was simply left both confused and gratified when Rinoa ambushed him at odd intervals. They had to be odd intervals, because the nausea was a definite romance-killer. But when she was feeling good, she felt really good. And when she felt that good, eventually Squall did too. If nothing else, her newly aggressive amorousness did allay Squall's concerns about her health.
"He gets a little bored doing the Commander stuff all the time, doesn't he?" Laguna said.
Rinoa nodded, "he does. As conscientious as he is about 'performing his duties to the best of his ability'- his words, I might add- sometimes even he has to cut loose and have fun. Of course, his idea of 'fun' usually involves something either dangerous or extreme. Hunting monsters comes up quite a lot."
"I hear he's taken up surfing." Laguna commented.
"Yeah, Irvine and Zell can usually get him to come out and hit the waves on occasion. I wouldn't necessarily call it a 'hobby' but he does seem to enjoy it whenever he manages to get out there." Rinoa replied.
"You should come out to Esthar again sometime. There are some really nice beaches on the northeastern coast, and I've heard that the surfing there is great. Elle and I would love to have you guys visit for a few days, we don't see you two enough." Laguna invited.
Rinoa smiled, "I'll see if I can convince Squall that he needs to take a vacation and visit his family." A sudden surge of nausea caused Rinoa to close her eyes and take a deep breath, hoping it would subside. She groaned softly when she felt the bile rising up into her throat.
"Are you okay Rinoa? Your face just went dead white." Laguna asked, concerned.
Swallowing, she nodded her head and said, "I'll be right back."
When she returned, Laguna said, frowning, "should you be here tonight if you're feeling this ill?"
"I'll be fine. This is a temporary condition." Rinoa said. Laguna studied her for a moment, frowning as he ran the comment through his mind, then his eyes widened.
"You're …" he began.
Rinoa nodded with a smile, "congratulations grandpa."
Since they were sitting in the grandstand in the midst of a packed crowd, Laguna couldn't just leap up, whooping at the top of his lungs like he wanted to, so he did the next best thing and instead enveloped Rinoa in an enthusiastic hug.
"I'm gonna be a grandpa? Seriously? Wow!" Laguna marveled, then he asked, "how far along are you and what does Squall think about it?"
"Six weeks, and Squall doesn't know yet." Rinoa answered, adding firmly to forestall Laguna's censure, "I'm telling him after the games."
"Don't wait too long honey. Trust me on this." Laguna said softly.
Then he groaned as the realization sank in, "I'm gonna be a grandfather? I'm only forty-seven! I'm not old enough to be a grandfather!"
"You think you're surprised? I didn't think it would happen at all. Even Edea was shocked." Rinoa said.
"I hate to suggest this, because I know Squall absolutely loathes the man, but we may need to talk to Dr. Odine about this." Laguna said hesitantly. He didn't much care for the little man either but he was undeniably a brilliant, if morally questionable, scientist. Laguna did his best to keep the man as humane as possible, mainly by keeping strict controls on the funding for his research projects. He knew for certain that the last thing Squall would tolerate would be Odine turning his wife into a lab rat. Still, if there was anyone else that knew more about sorceresses, Laguna had yet to learn of them.
Rinoa shook her head vigorously, "No. Not unless we have no other choice, and I will talk to Squall about it first. Otherwise, you run the risk of losing your best scientist."
Laguna grimaced, "That's right. You probably don't remember this but Elle had linked Squall with my mind when I found her in Esthar as a toddler, and trust me, I could feel the hatred radiating down the link. It was all I could do not to break Odine's neck right then and there, because that's what Squall was urging me to do. When he came to Esthar and met Odine face to face, if looks could kill, Odine would have dropped dead at Squall's feet. I have no doubt that Squall would happily squeeze the life out of Odine at the slightest provocation."
"So, no, I'm not going to talk to him unless we have no other alternative and Squall agrees with it." Rinoa said.
Laguna nodded. That was the safest bet. But he did worry a little about Rinoa. Truth is, nobody knew how pregnancy would affect a sorceress, because there was no information. Nothing in any of the histories or chronicles even mentioned it. If anybody could find out however, Odine could.
When he got back to Esthar, Laguna decided he would talk to Dr. Odine himself.
Selphie brought the Ragnarok to a soft landing right next to where Balamb Garden had settled itself on the outskirts of Deling City. The other gardens were likewise stationed in various points around Deling City, all of them there because of the games. She was gratified to see the newly rebuilt Trabia Garden, configured into a mobile base like the rest of them. And then there was Esthar's new Garden, which was…unique. She smiled at the fanciful design and color.
Then she sighed, knowing she'd missed the opening ceremonies and hoping that Irvine wasn't too terribly disappointed. She truly had no idea that testing to qualify for sub-orbital flight would take as long as it did. Shutting down the airship's engines, she unbuckled her seatbelts and left the ship, heading toward Balamb Garden and home.
As she walked toward garden, she saw a tall, uniformed figure coming toward her. She smiled as she drew closer; appreciating all over again how well Irvine wore his dress uniform.
"Hi sweetie, sorry I'm late. How'd the ceremonies go?" Selphie said as she walked into his embrace. He gave her a firm squeeze and smiled down at her.
"It was boring. I swear Squall was actually asleep with his eyes open the whole time. I don't think he even blinked once. I didn't know he could do that." Irvine smirked. Then he bent down and gave her a soft kiss.
"Have you had dinner?" he asked.
"Not yet." She answered, smiling.
"Come on then." He said, putting his arm around her and walking with her back toward garden.
"So, how'd the test go? Must have been pretty intense if it took this long." He commented.
"Yeah, it was." She answered.
"Well?" Irvine prompted.
Selphie squeezed him hard and answered jubilantly, "I passed!"
"Awesome! I knew you could do it sweetheart." Irvine said proudly.
"This calls for a celebration. Where do you want to go for dinner?" he asked.
"How about Pike's? I've got a craving for one of their wonderful steaks." Selphie suggested.
"Sure, just let me get changed out of this uniform.." Irvine began, but Selphie shook her head.
"Sorry babe, but no way. You look way too hot wearing that, and I want to be the one to take it off of you. So, let's get dinner first, then I'll undress you. Deal?" she suggested with a sultry smile.
"Well, since you put it that way, it's a deal." Irvine grinned. Instead of heading toward their rooms, they altered their course to the garage and got into Irvine's truck. They were a little far outside of Deling City for walking, so this time around, Irvine opted to drive. Parking would be a little bit of a challenge, but Pike's did have a small parking area next to it.
When they got there, they found a table in the bar area with a good view of the television screen there. The local evening newscast was on, and clips of the opening ceremonies were being replayed.
Irvine ordered their steaks and asked Selphie, "What do you want to drink? Beer or soda?"
Selphie shrugged, "I'll drive if you want to have a beer."
Irvine considered that for a moment, then decided against it, saying, "Nah, don't really feel like a beer tonight. So I'm just gonna have a soda."
"Same here," Selphie said, then her gaze strayed to the television, which was showing a shot of the SeeD teams as they entered the stadium. The camera focused on Balamb's team and Squall, who was leading them, and Selphie gasped.
Irvine chuckled, "That's pretty much all I heard all night. You should have seen Rinoa's face when he showed up like that. I thought she was going to faint."
"Why did he cut it? He's never bothered with going full regulation before." Selphie asked, still staring at the screen. The scene shifted to another story and she turned back to Irvine.
"He needed to get his hair out of his eyes. It was starting to bother him and he didn't want it to interfere with his events. At least, that how he explained it to me." Irvine answered with a shrug.
"Well it is logical. But wow, what a drastic change! Scary." Selphie commented.
"I don't know about scary, but he certainly does look more intimidating, doesn't he?" Irvine replied.
"He sure does." Selphie said. Their meals arrived shortly thereafter.
As they ate, Selphie asked, "So, tomorrow's the track and field events, right? Squall's doing his marathon first thing in the morning, isn't he?"
"Yeah. Did you know Nida's doing the decathlon?" Irvine asked.
Selphie shook her head, "Really? No, I didn't."
"Apparently, he's one of Balamb's best track stars. Practically a team by himself; it'd be pretty impressive if he wins it. That's not easy to do." Irvine said.
"Well, the marathon's not easy either. What do you think Squall's chances are?" Selphie asked, curious.
Irvine shrugged, "Well, he's no slouch, but so far the best time he's managed in training doesn't come close to the favorite in this race. Plus, he's never run a marathon before. I hate to say this but while I think he'll finish, he may not win."
"Who's the favorite?" Selphie asked.
"Galbadian SeeD named Sebastian Cole. Probably the best in the world; he's run the marathon in the last two SeeD Games, and won. Likewise with the International Games, competing on Galbadia's track and field team. He took second place the first time, and the last time he won. Broke the world record. The guy lives for this." Irvine answered.
"Wow. Well, I wouldn't count Squall out just yet. You know how tough he is. He might just win it on sheer grit." Selphie said.
Irvine nodded, "he might at that."
"So when does your shooting event start?" Selphie asked.
"Day after tomorrow. The preliminary event starts first then if I make it through that round we go into the elimination round the next day. The final round is on the third day." He answered.
"Well, I know you'll win it. I don't have any doubts about that." Selphie said firmly.
"I'm up against some really tough competition. It won't be as easy for me as you'd think." Irvine cautioned.
"You can do it. You and I both know you're the best." Selphie said.
"We'll know for sure in a few days, won't we?" Irvine said, eyes sparkling with excitement.
"I can't wait!" Selphie pronounced. She too was getting excited about the games.
"Meet me at the stadium tomorrow morning to watch the track and field events and cheer our team on." Irvine invited.
"Why would I need to meet you when we could just go together?" Selphie said, running her finger along Irvine's hand before finally taking it and giving it a squeeze.
He smiled slowly, squeezing it back, saying, "Oh, right. We still have to get me out of this uniform don't we?"
Selphie laughed softly, "Yes, we do." Bringing his hand up to her mouth, Selphie gave him a sultry look and sensually drew his finger into her mouth. Irvine caught his breath as desire rocketed through him.
"Wicked, wicked woman." He said in a strangled voice. Selphie laughed again, a low, sexy rippling laugh that conjured all sorts of arousing images in Irvine's mind.
"Okay. We're outta here. Check please!" He said, quickly paying it and ushering Selphie out of the establishment.
Day One
Event: Track and Field
"Good morning ladies and gentlemen, this is Kelsie Reynolds, and next to me here is our sports analyst, former holder of the 1500 meter world record, Bruce Samson. This is Day One of the SeeD games, and the first event to kick off the games is the marathon, part of the Track and Field events that will be taking place here today." The giant video screen in the stadium showed the blond haired newswoman and her partner, a dark haired former athlete that was there to offer opinion and commentary on the day's events.
Selphie and Irvine were sitting in the stands and Selphie waved when she saw Rinoa, Laguna and Ellone come in and take their seats several rows down, closer to the track. They waved back, then turned and sat down.
Selphie turned her attention to back to the screen and the sports analyst, who was talking about the participants.
"The field for today's marathon is going to be a fairly small one, since this event is restricted to active SeeDs only and not the general public. So there's only going to be a total of twenty-three participants today. There are four entries from Galbadia Garden, including current world record holder and favorite to win this race, Sebastian Cole. Trabia's team has five entrants, Balamb has six, including team captain and commander of Balamb Garden, Squall Leonhart. The rest of the field includes three entrants from Esthar Garden and five from the White SeeD contingent."
Down on the field, the racers were milling about, stretching, warming up and getting ready for the race. Selphie easily picked Squall out from the knot of runners from Balamb Garden, two other men and three young women, all wearing their dark navy blue and silver track uniforms.
"So which one of those Galbadian runners is Cole?" Selphie asked Irvine.
"See that tall guy there that looks like a chocobo?" Irvine pointed him out.
"That's him? Wow, you're right, he does look like a chocobo. A skinny one, but I definitely see the resemblance." Selphie said. The individual in question was nearly six and a half feet tall, rail thin, had spiked up red-gold hair and a huge, beaky nose. He also had the biggest damn feet that Selphie had ever seen. As unassuming as he appeared, when standing next to the rest of the runners in the race, he dwarfed them all.
"He runs like one too." Irvine commented. This was not an insult as the large, flightless birds were strong runners.
While they were readying the start of the marathon, the field events for the day got started. Selphie and Irvine picked out Nida easily as he began his quest for the decathlon medal with the pole vault.
Irvine focused his attention back to the track, wondering if Squall was apprehensive about the race. Watching him, it was hard to tell. He paced gracefully back and forth, stretching and limbering up, but aside from an inability to stand still didn't display any other sign of nervousness. The track official tweeted his whistle and the runners lined up in a waterfall start across the track. Because it was a long distance race, there were no lanes assigned.
The start of the race would be on the track, and the runners would make one circuit before leaving the stadium to run the remainder of the route for the marathon. The course wound its way through Deling City to the outskirts where it threaded through the brutally hot Galbadian desert for six miles before looping back through the city and finishing up on the track again. There weren't too many hills; it was a relatively flat course. But the heat of high summer in Galbadia's central desert was enough of a test, particularly for those runners from cooler climates such as Trabia and Balamb.
The unexpected crack of the starter's pistol caused Irvine to jump slightly, and he laughed to himself at his reaction. The runners leaped forward at the signal, surging forth with a surprising amount of speed for such a long race. Cole took the lead, but Squall had apparently decided not to waste his energy fighting for position this early in the race and loped along comfortably in the middle of the pack.
In the moments leading up to the start of the race, Squall was in fact rather nervous. He had never run a marathon before. He'd run the distance in training. But he'd never run it in a race against other people. Running was ordinarily a solitary pursuit uniquely suited to his personality and he enjoyed the solitude. Running in a race however was completely different. So, yeah, he was nervous. Only a fool wouldn't be. He was also excited and eager for the race to start. His heart thudded heavily and adrenaline was already flooding his blood, to the point that he simply could not be still. He dimly heard one of the other Balamb runners say something to him, and he responded vaguely, his mind focused on the coming test.
At the line up, he saw the Galbadian champion, Cole, out of the corner of his eye. A marathon is a long race, and while he was new to this type of thing, he was aware of the fact that the race would be won as much due to strategy as to conditioning. Squall's only strategy was to run his race and finish with enough gas in the tank to make a final surge at the end. He knew Cole would set the pace. He was a pro at this. Squall didn't want to get pulled into a speed test with the man, but he also wanted to stay close enough to the pace that he'd have at least a slim chance of catching him.
Squall took a deep breath to calm and center himself, and as he let it out, the starting gun went off.
As one, all of the runners bolted forward and charged for the first turn. Squall was swept along for a few strides, as much to avoid getting trampled on or jostled as to keep pace with the leaders. The field eventually strung out as people settled into the rhythm of running. Squall too, took a deep breath and physically shook himself to try and relax, then settled into a smooth, ground-eating stride.
Sooner than expected, they'd completed their circuit of the stadium, and headed out onto the streets of Deling City and the course itself.
Squall ran along, paying scant attention to the throngs of people lining the course, yelling, cheering and waving. He tried not to let the crowds bother him but he did find it somewhat disconcerting. He concentrated on running instead. And breathing.
Relax. Breathe. His breath still came easily, his muscles warmed and limber and his strides firm. He fell into a nearly hypnotic state, his wind in sync with his strides as he flowed gracefully along the course. He checked ahead, and Cole was several meters in front, but not too far.
As the miles wore on, the crowds thinned out. The gaps between the runners lengthened and the leaders pulled farther ahead. Squall, still focused on his running, was startled as something came at him from the side. Taken by surprise, he leaped aside only to realize that he'd passed a watering station and someone was attempting to hand him a paper cup full of water. He reached out and took it, tried a sip and nearly choked, then simply dumped the rest on his head and kept running. He was still working out how to run, breathe, and drink a cup of water at the same time.
The next watering station he passed, Squall fared much better, slowing his strides a little and gulping the water down, this time without inhaling it, and forging on.
It was getting warmer. When they'd started the race, it was warm, but Squall remembered how hot Galbadia could get in summer, and as the race progressed, so did the temperature. They were approaching the stage that wound through a portion of the central desert, and it was not merely warm there, it was actually hot. Very hot. For six miles, the course wound through the searing, dry desert, right at the toughest part of the race: the middle.
Squall's breath was coming harder now, his lungs burning as he entered the sere desert. He fought the urge to open his mouth and gasp for air, knowing what that would do to him in the dry heat. Instead, he clamped his mouth shut and concentrated on breathing through his nose. The sweat that soaked his shirt gradually dried as he drew farther into the desert and the dry air sucked the moisture from him. The heat was oppressive, adding weight to his strides and making it harder to maintain his pace. He still kept to his rhythm, his strides never faltering. But it was getting harder to fight through the fatigue that began to dog his steps.
Keep breathing. Keep running. DO NOT STOP. Squall's thoughts formed a litany that repeated in tune with his strides. If he kept to his pace, he'd prevail. At this point in the race, he wasn't thinking about winning, just finishing. He'd run farther before in training, he knew he could make it through the course, but he had run the distance alone with only a clock to beat. Several meters ahead of him, Cole still led the race, seemingly unaffected by the desert heat.
Another checkpoint appeared ahead, and Squall gratefully took the proffered cup of water and drank it down. It helped. There were two more checkpoints on this portion of the race, the deadly heat making them necessary for the safety of the racers. Squall passed them both, taking advantage of the water offered, knowing full well how dangerous dehydration could be.
The actual middle of the race came just before they left the desert course. Some of the leaders, those who had attempted to keep pace with Cole, were faltering and beginning to slow. Thus far, Squall hadn't really pushed himself, keeping to a pace he was comfortable with. Squall passed several of those spent runners easily. By no means however, was Squall having an easy time of it himself. His legs felt leaden, the muscles suddenly tight. He fought through it, forcing himself to relax.
I'm tying up. I can't stop. I won't stop. Ignore the pain Squall; keep running! His mind lashed his tiring body on, sheer will keeping his flagging strides strong. He kept running. Kept to the beat of breath and heart and stride. He pushed through the wall that he realized he'd just hit, and found his second wind.
Ten miles to go. They were out of the desert now, and fewer runners appeared between Squall and the leader, Cole. More people were dropping back, spent, laboring, and only hanging on to finish, not to win.
Gradually, Squall began to lengthen his strides. Part of his strategy while training was to have a "rabbit" to chase at the end of his long runs; He'd talked Zell into helping him in return for his assistance with sparring. So, Squall would go out on a long, eighteen or twenty mile run and Zell would jump in for the last five miles for Squall to chase. Zell would be fresh and speedy, and Squall tired, but the extra impetus to catch and pass Zell forced him to develop a late kick that could possibly put him over the finish line in first place.
The question was would it be enough to catch the long-striding Cole who was still several meters ahead? Squall didn't know but he'd do his best to find out. He'd purposely refused to look up Cole's world record time. He didn't want to know. He knew what his best time for the distance was, and it was enough to qualify him to run, but he'd already been told it wasn't even close to Cole's best. He didn't care.
A tickle at the back of his mind caused him to shake his head, then he frowned, recognizing it.
"Elle? What the hell..? You'd BETTER not make me fall asleep!" he warned her mentally as he loped along, wondering what she wanted.
"Sorry Squall, I won't, I promise. We just wanted to wish you luck. You're doing great!"
"Thanks Sis. We?" he wondered, then smiled internally as he recognized Rinoa's presence.
"Hi, Elle said she'd connect me with you, hope you don't mind?" she sent hesitantly.
"I can't even be alone inside my own mind now?" he groused, then he reassured her, " No, I don't mind."
"I just wanted to tell you I know you can win. You're stronger than you know. And I love you."
"I love you too. And thanks, both of you." The contact ceased, and Squall's focus returned to his race. Buoyed by the encouragement, he increased his pace.
Five miles to go. He was closer now, gaining ground with every stride. But Cole's strides were lengthening too, to an astounding degree. He wasn't falling behind Cole, but he wasn't catching him either. There was nothing but empty space between them, and with just under five miles still to go, Squall worried suddenly that the ground would run out before he caught up to the leader.
Pick it up Squall! You can do this! He ducked his head, took a deep breath and dug deep. He raised his knees and rose onto the balls of his feet. His strides grew longer and smoother. Not a full out sprint, not yet, but still picking up speed. The gap between him and Cole began to narrow.
He had no GF strength to draw on, only his own reserves, which were rapidly dwindling. But he wasn't done yet. Not yet.
Push harder! He surged forward, Cole still sailing ahead. Closer. Closer. The crowds lining the streets of Deling City were a noisy blur as Squall and Cole raced toward the finish. It was a true race now, Squall eventually drawing even with Cole as they approached the stadium. Cole glanced over and his eyes widened in surprise to see Squall pacing him.
Cole put on his kick and Squall matched him stride for stride. They hit the track flying, the finish tape just a hundred meters away. Then Squall, gritting his teeth, found another gear and pulled ahead, ignoring pain, ignoring his heart, pounding fit to burst, dragging air into starving lungs as his whole body strained forward. His feet barely touched the ground, and he seemed to take flight, Cole pounding hard right on his heels.
Then the stadium exploded into roaring thunder as he broke the tape, just one stride ahead of the champion.
Is it over? Did I win? He thought dimly, and gradually slowed his strides, concentrating fiercely on staying upright and not simply collapsing, despite the fact that he felt dangerously close to doing exactly that.
Breathe. Just breathe. And walk. Don't collapse, don't stop moving or you WILL collapse.. Dazed, exhausted and shaky, he wandered aimlessly, concentrating on simply pulling air into and out of his lungs. Gradually he became aware of people supporting him on either side. He looked to his right and saw his father grinning proudly at him, and on the other side, Ellone.
"Hey." He said breathlessly. He was smothered briefly as they both squeezed him in a hug. He was too tired to protest, instead looking for Rinoa. She cannoned into him so hard he would have fallen over if it hadn't been for the support of his family.
Laughing quietly, he hugged her tightly, then gave her a quick kiss. The moment couldn't last however, as track officials, reporters, teammates and friends converged upon him. He glared in irritation as lights flashed and microphones were thrust into his face.
One of the officials told him his time and he stared at the man, asking him to repeat it, as he wasn't sure he'd heard it right.
"Say that again?" he asked in disbelief.
"You set a new world record Commander Leonhart. The official time is 2:02:22." The man said.
"Great job Squall! We knew you could do it!" Laguna said enthusiastically. Ellone and Rinoa echoed the comment and he was smothered in hugs again.
Then reporters were clamoring for comments and microphones kept popping up in his face and it all got to be too much. He had to get out of there. He was tired, hot, and still needed to cool down; he could already feel his overworked muscles stiffening as he stood there in this crush of humanity.
"I need to get out of here," he said quietly to Rinoa, looking around desperately for an escape. Rinoa glanced at Laguna who nodded in understanding. He was still the President of Esthar, and that position required the constant presence of bodyguards. Laguna didn't like the fact that he needed them and found them intrusive, but in cases like this, they came in handy. At his quiet request, they cleared a path and they made their way off the track.
One intrepid reporter, more dogged than the rest, got her mike out and asked Squall, "You've just won the marathon with a new world record Commander Leonhart, are you planning on competing in the International Games?"
Squall brushed past her, saying, "I'm really tired." He didn't want to make any comments or anything else. He just wanted to relax for a minute, catch his breath and regroup.
Just before they entered the tunnel to go into the locker rooms, the crowd roared again and Squall raised his hand to acknowledge it, feeling a little silly as he did so.
"So," Rinoa asked, "are you going to compete in the International Games Squall?"
He gazed down at her for a moment, then shook his head, "I barely survived this. I can't think about doing it again right now."
"Well, you know the press is going to be after you for an answer," Laguna said, adding, "and you'll have to go back out there for the medal presentation." Squall groaned.
"I wish I could just issue a press release like you," he grumbled. They went into the currently empty locker room and Squall reached for his sport bag, taking out a water bottle. It was warm, but he didn't care, he drank it down thirstily.
"I need to stretch, I'm starting to get stiff." He grimaced as he stretched out his legs. They were already starting to hurt; he knew he'd be in serious pain tomorrow. The stretching did help a little bit though; he didn't feel quite as stiff as he had before.
"Feeling better?" Rinoa asked. Squall nodded. The breather had helped him regain his equilibrium, and he felt more prepared to deal with the medal presentation and the press and everything else.
"You ready? They just sent a track official to check on you. They want you back out there." Laguna said.
"Yeah, let's go." Squall said, heading out of the locker room.
As he passed his father, Laguna grinned impishly and said, "I'm sorry son, but I have to do this," and he reached up and rubbed his hand over the top of Squall's closely shorn head.
Squall pushed Laguna's hand aside, glaring at him, and said, "Stop." Ellone and Rinoa stifled their giggles as Squall rolled his eyes and they left the locker room.
