Author Notes: Is this soon enough? ^_^ Been awhile since I have actually updated a story within a two week time frame. I had this chapter written up quite quickly and my beta showed no difference in getting the beta reading done. My only delay was down to exceeding my internet usage (of which I've gone over 5GB d'oh) and of course, Assassin's Creed Revelations multi-player! Ahem ... I mean, oh uni is so time consuming, too many essays ... -phew-

RevennaAngelline (and other users who have disabled their PM), thank you for the reviews and the kind words. Please don't think I'm ignoring you, I can't reply to reviews unless you allow users to contact you via PM. :)


Chapter 12 – Cluing Me In

My week hitched up a gear and by Friday night, I desired nothing more but the hours to pass by as quickly as possible. Dinner with Dad and Lance was awkward as always; my silence was taken as a sign of adjustment to our new family addition. I said less around Dad to prevent any accidental comments about the new friends I'd made. Keeping secrets was hard, and with a blubbering mouth like mine, I had to be extra cautious to avoid any slip ups.

As usual, Dad would leave the dining table to answer frequent calls on his mobile and I'd find myself in an uncomfortable silent vigil with Lance. Over the week we'd acquainted ourselves with basic formality; this mainly consisted of asking how school was, how I was settling in Balamb, whether I had made friends, and if he really had killed President Loire. Okay, that last one was a lie. But I really did want to ask him about his involvement.

I was conflicted. Here I was, breaking bread with a man who supposedly got into fisticuffs with Squall's father, who somehow wound up dead. If the Fated Children were to ever find this out, my acceptance into their group would be short-lived.

Yet at the same time, I couldn't judge Lance. He just didn't look like the type to get into the sort of mess Kyle had mentioned. Every time I looked into his green eyes, there was almost a spark of laughter nestled in between the specks of hazel, dancing in the memories of his lost freedom. I felt for the man, I truly did. It wasn't to lessen or undermine what had happened to the Loires, but losing one's freedom was a severe loss of its own.

If I wasn't so petrified of the guy, I would have offered him a hug. I know I shouldn't be afraid of him, but I still couldn't shake my anxieties away. It was a tug of war with my heart and brain. One part of me wanted to run upstairs and lock myself in my room, call my friends back in Deling City and tell them my father's gone crazy for allowing a potential murderer to reside in our home. But the other half remained with Lance, thinking that he had no one else to talk to, nothing else to do. It wasn't like he could turn on the T.V or check his e-mail. Then again, if he had an e-mail address, I certainly wouldn't doubt that he'd be getting tons of nasty threats from people connected to the Loires. Seifer would probably be the top offender.

"What are you thinking about?" Lance's soft voice jolted me out of my thoughts. He offered a smile when my body jumped.

I sighed, rolling my eyes at myself. "Sorry, I was miles away."

I could hear the humorous lilt in his voice. "You looked it."

"I was just thinking about school. I have a lot of homework due, but can't bring myself to get on with it."

"Oh you should concentrate, it is your final year, right? This year determines the grades that'll get you into university," he advised.

I nodded, finding nothing else to say. The silence didn't last long as Lance scratched his neck and then proceeded to ask me more about school.

"What subjects are you finding difficult?"

"I'm not really finding anything difficult; it's just that I lack enthusiasm when I have to get the homework done."

"Enthusiasm and homework? I don't think those two ever mix, and if they do, it certainly wouldn't be the case with a teenager," Lance teased with a smirk.

I couldn't help but smile back. He had me there.

"No, I don't suppose they do."

"Well if you'd like, maybe I could help you with some of your homework? I don't have much else to do around here." Lance looked around the dining room as if to prove his point.

"Erm," I hesitated, unsure of whether or not that was a good idea. Not in regards to getting help with my homework, but allowing a situation to open up where I would be spending long lengths of time with Lance. However, the pity I felt earlier on kicked in and I soon found myself accepting his offer. "Okay, sure."

Lance's eyes widened. His lips turning to bare a very pleased smile.


A couple of hours later I leaned back against the sofa, throwing down my pencil onto the coffee table, and scratched my head.

"Done." I huffed and watched as Lance picked up my exercise book, put my red pen into his mouth and used his teeth to take off the lid. As he stared at my book, he opened his lips wide enough for the lid to fall in his lap and then went about scribbling on my notepad.

The session had started off with Lance explaining maths formula in more detail than my cow of a teacher did. Once I had understood the concepts, Lance gave me some practise questions from my workbook. I hadn't realised that two hours had flown by, but thankful that my evening was coming to an end – not because I didn't enjoy the session with Lance, weirdly enough – but the sooner Friday ended, the sooner Saturday entered, and the sooner I'd be meeting Luqas.

"All right," Lance began, moving closer to me on the sofa to show me my results, "you got nineteen out of twenty. Just this fourth one here, you were supposed to use permutation not combination."

"Oh . . . okay," I replied tiredly.

"But this was really good. You only got one wrong," Lance quickly quipped. I smiled at him, wondering if he assumed I was upset about not getting it perfect.

"I'll keep practising."

"Yeah, that'd be good. That's really the thing about Maths, you just have to keep practising and you soon get the hang of it. It's like driving a car, there's always a method, a formula to follow, a set of rules even. The more you practise, the better you get."

I laughed softly at his parable as he stared at me in surprise. I couldn't believe I found this guy scary; he was completely harmless. But even as I sat there, admiring his teaching abilities and how endearing his sentiments towards me were, I still felt a stab of guilt thinking about Squall.

I didn't really know Squall and his family, and the things I did were related through a diary he probably had no intention of showing to another soul. Reading his diary gave me an insight into his life and inadvertently allowed me to form a bond with him; that alone made me feel as if I was betraying him by being friendly with Lance.

It was all so confusing given the events that took place, or rather, the timings in which they did. Had I not found Squall's diary, the Fated Children wouldn't have been such a keen interest. Naturally, they wouldn't have gone unnoticed, seeing as Seifer's interruption into my life took place without my acknowledging them. But I definitely wouldn't have cared too much for them as I would have otherwise. It was the same with Lance. Had I not read Squall's diary and felt some obligation to Squall's last remaining relative, I probably would have been a lot friendlier and approachable to him.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked Lance who stared at me, gradually nodding his head.

"Sure," he replied, smiling at me though it looked quite forced.

"What was the argument about? The one you and President Loire had before he . . ." I couldn't finish it. Even with the words lodged in my throat, guilt overtook me as Lance lowered his head and set his sights on the carpet. I was so out of order.

"Erm, it's not that I don't want to tell you, but your father has requested I don't involve you in these matters." His words, though direct, were kind and ironically sensitive to my feelings. I only wished I could return the favour.

"Oh yeah, sure." I stupidly replied as if I was completely fine with it. Of course I wasn't, since I was mentally scolding Dad for his refusal to let me in the loop. If it wasn't Seifer, it was Dad.

"I'm sorry about all this. It's not a nice feeling being left in the lurch, not having a clue about what's going on in your own home. Especially when you're living with a stranger," Lance remarked, leaning back into the seat and folding one leg over the other. "If you want to know anything else . . . I don't mind sharing."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Hmm. Well, why don't you ask me what you want to know about me, and I'll tell you whether or not I can answer?"

I thought about it for a second, slowly nodding my head in agreement. "Erm . . ." Now that I was given the opportunity, I couldn't think of what to ask; it was harder than I thought. Recalling our last conversation, I asked, "Do you miss your family?"

His head snapped towards my direction as I quickly moved back, surprised by the sudden movement. He shook his head, smiling warmly as it was the second time he caught me off guard. "Sorry. Er, yes I do. A lot."

"Do they live in Balamb?" I asked, aware of how personal my questions were.

"No." Lance shook his head.

"Where are you originally from? If you don't mind me asking, that is," I quickly interjected.

"I don't," Lance smiled, "My parents are originally Galbadian, and I lived in Galbadia for the most part, Deling City to be more precise. That's where I met your father; in the army."

"And now? Like, before here obviously."

"Just before I arrived in Balamb, I was living in Esthar. After having retired from the army, I moved to work in Esthar."

"Did you like it there?" I asked, tilting my head against the backrest of the couch.

Lance nodded his head. "Yeah, Esthar's a great country. The people are so civil – well other than your average fascist, but you get that everywhere. But the people are generally very nice, the technology is so advanced, and there's some really beautiful scenery out of the main city."

"I've never been anywhere other than Galbadia and Balamb," I said regretfully.

"Well, then I'll have to tell your father to take you one day. You'd really enjoy Esthar City, there's so much to do that you wouldn't be able to get it all done in a lifetime," Lance commented, really selling me on the country.

"Yeah, maybe you should tell Dad to take me some time." I encouraged him as he let out a hearty chuckle.

We remained silent for another couple of minutes, just sitting on the couch. Lance raucously breathed through his nose, his chest heaving up and down as he stared into space. I wondered if he was still thinking about his family.

In that sense, I wasn't completely foreign to his feelings. I knew what it felt like to lose a family member, though my situation was a loss by death. There was no doubt that Lance was aware of Mum's death, though I did find it odd that he didn't ask me questions about it at times. Then again, that was quite a personal subject and I assumed his social skills weren't lacking compared to my own tactlessness.

"You said you had a son before, what's he like?" I asked cautiously, keeping an eye on Lance's reaction in case this was too much for him.

He took another deep breath, wiping a hand over his tired face and scratched the hair that was gradually growing back.

"He's a good boy. He always has been. You know these young kids nowadays, falling into peer pressure and getting into all sorts of trouble, I've never had that from him."

I nodded my head, thinking of what to ask him next when he continued.

"He's really smart, caring and quite handsome too. He's such a good son, always helpful around the house. I don't think I've ever heard a complaint from his mouth."

I watched as Lance looked up to the ceiling, his bottom eyelid barricading a pool of tears, a gulp causing his Adam's apple to contract. He pursed his lips together, almost vigorously preventing himself from releasing a sob, until his voice finally cracked.

"I really miss my boy," he choked a sob.

I lowered my eyes, and scooted closer to him, taking my right hand and placing it on his shoulder. It wasn't much, but I hoped he'd know he wasn't alone through this gesture, that there were people who understood the absence of a loved one. I knew it was harder for him, chiefly because his family was still alive but his situation prevented him from being with them. I didn't know how it felt, but I just hoped he'd acknowledged my sympathy.


Lance had eventually returned to his makeshift bedroom in the basement and Dad had retired to bed after a three hour call to someone on his mobile. If I hadn't had the most overwhelming week in my life, I probably would have enquired about who the caller was. My initial assumption was President Vinzer Deling as he had been talking to him earlier this week. There was also the possibility of Martine as well, given that he had shown up rather unexpectedly last week.

Being so hung up with the Fated Children and Lance, I had completely overlooked Martine's presence in our house. Again, my brain started working overtime as I thought about the man's connection with Lance. It was very peculiar that two days after Martine showed up, Lance was hiding in our basement . . . well, that is unless Lance had been down there much longer.

I stood over the kitchen's waste bin, tying the black bin bag to take outside. Shaking my head, I willed myself to move onto other topics; it wasn't healthy. Aside from the health aspect, I also didn't have enough brain power to worry about Dad when I was so restless about meeting this mysterious Luqas character.

Once I had tied the bin bag, I carried it to the back door and walked into the garden. Looking up, I could see the cloud blanketed sky had gone from the deepest twilight blue to a murky pink. That very colour always induced a chilling feeling deep within me. It was insensible, but seeing the sky in a dusty pink hue just disturbed me.

I kept my head lowered, walking to the front of the garden and passing behind the back of the garage. Once I had reached the wooden gate separating our garden and the trash we kept at the front driveway, I set the bag down and opened the white gate.

The small alley way where our waste bins were kept reeked of a week's worth of food waste. I pulled the lid over the grey bin, not breathing through my nose and keeping my mouth closed. Once the black bin bag was in, I quickly shut the lid and wheeled the trolley over to the other side of the alleyway, and opened the door leading to the front driveway.

Being so preoccupied with wheeling the bin out as quickly as I could, I hadn't noticed the figure sitting on a motorcycle outside our house. As I parked the waste bin against the wall of our front garden, I looked up to see this young guy looking at me.

I didn't know whether it was the sudden awareness of seeing a person looking at our house, or whether it was just due to the suspenseful week I'd had, but I let out a sharp gasp.

"Can I help you?" I asked, breathing steadily to ease the rapid thudding in my chest.

He continued looking at the house for a few seconds, and then finally set his dark eyes on me.

"Do you live here now?" I heard his husky voice ask.

"Yes," I answered. Inwardly panicking, I cursed my strange need to converse with every stranger I meet when I should have been running into the house screaming.

The guy looked back at the house, his forehead frowned and his lips pressed together, almost in displeasure. A breeze sailed past us, blurring my sight as locks of my hair veiled my eyes. His own brown hair thinly danced in the wind, moving through the waves of the wind's rhythm.

As I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, he gave me another glance before placing his helmet back on his head. He started his engine and moved away from the curb, until he finally started revving his engine hard and zoomed down the street.

I stood there for a couple more minutes, looking down the road to where the guy had disappeared, completely bewildered by what just happened. I'd never seen him before nor knew why he had asked about the house. But like always, when one event came speeding up to me, so did another, and I soon found myself questioning the Fated Children's involvement.

"Luqas . . .?"


I woke up Saturday morning to the sound of the landline phone downstairs, grunting in my sleep as I heard Dad answer it. I rolled to the other side of my bed, pressing my head further into my pillow, hoping to fall back into the deep sleep that I was rudely awoken from. However, Dad came into my room with the cordless in hand and shook me awake.

"Rinoa, it's for you," he said, handing me the phone.

I tiredly took it from his hand, almost slamming the plastic thing into my ear as my body hadn't quite caught up with my brain. I was usually slow in the mornings.

"Hello," I croaked a greeting, wondering who on earth could be calling for me.

"Hey Rinoa, it's me Selphie."

I was instantly alert, rising into a sitting position, and looked up at Dad who gave me an inquisitive look. He was probably wondering who was calling for me so early in the morning.

"Hey, what's up?" I casually asked, hoping not to arise any suspicions.

"You still up for meeting Luqas today?"

"Ah, sure. What time?" I asked, wiping a hand down my face and rubbing the sleep away from my eyes.

"I can pick you up in about an hour?"

"Cool, I'll see you then." I said my goodbyes and hung up.

Passing the phone back to Dad, he took it from my hand but did not move from my bed, silently watching me take a hair band off my bedside table and tie my hair. When I didn't say anything, he finally asked, "Who was it?"

"Just a friend from school. She wants to go out so she asked if I wanted to join her," I explained, getting out of bed and fixing my duvet.

"Ah," Dad replied, nodding his head and proceeded to walk out of my room.


I had wasted no time afterwards, showering as quickly as possible, drying my hair and downing a quick bowl of cereal. My nervousness was increasing; my stomach finding hard to keep my breakfast down. Every time I thought about the stranger outside our house, I felt stiff with anxiety. This was not healthy.

I wasn't even sure if I should talk to Selphie about it. A huge part of me wanted to ask her if she had sent Luqas to see me, or to at least describe what Luqas looked like so I could figure out if he was the one I had seen. But another part of me was fretful. If this person turned out to be someone else, then the Fated Children would pull that golden ticket out of my hand and send me on my way. It was a burning question that I couldn't risk the possibility of severing my chances with the gang.

An hour had passed by the time Selphie had arrived outside my house in a yellow Jeep, honking for me to come out. I was thankful for her impatient, teenage mannerisms as I really didn't want to introduce her to Lance, who had just gotten up and was helping himself to some coffee.

I announced that I'd be back late and left the house, briskly jogging down the driveway, and got into the passenger seat of Selphie's car.

"Hey," she greeted me with a wide grin.

"Hey." I contagiously grinned back, before looking at her questionably. "Selphie, how did you get my number?"

She had already driven off before I clipped my seat belt on, looking in her mirrors before turning into a main road, but answered me quickly. "You live in Squall's house remember? I assumed the landline number hadn't been changed, so I called and your Dad happened to pick up."

"Oh, that was lucky," I remarked suspiciously.

"Maybe. People here don't bother changing their landline numbers. Then again, most people don't actually move houses much. I've lived in my house since the day I set foot in Balamb."

I nodded in understanding, still thinking it was a fortunate thing she had access to our landline. I didn't want this opportunity to go amiss, but at the same time, I was still perplexed by the Fated Children's easy access to my life.

The drive wasn't too long, not that I knew where we were going. It was all in all about a fifteen minute drive and our conversation was kept to a minimum; Selphie had concentrated more on her driving than on conversing with me. I spent the time wondering what this Luqas character was going to look like, if he was the stranger I'd seen last night, and whether or not he'd be as interesting as Squall.

I also started pondering on his exact relation with the gang, as Squall had never mentioned him in the diary, at least not in any form that I could decipher. Just thinking about that had me regretting not looking over the diary to spot any clues concerning this new character. In fact, ever since I'd read the last entry, I had left the diary alone and never referred back to it.

I wanted to ask Selphie if Luqas was a friend that they had made before or after Squall's death. But I soon found myself answering my own question. It certainly couldn't be after since Irvine had clearly stated that I was the only person they had let into their group, thus breaking their pact. So if they had made this connection with Luqas before Squall's death, why had Squall never mentioned him?

Things weren't adding up and as we approached Balamb Hospital and parked in their car park, I turned to Selphie with a frown. She saw my expression and looked at me in surprise, her green eyes wide with anticipation.

"What are we doing here?" I asked.

"We're here to see Luqas," she answered with a chirp.

"In a hospital?"

"Yeah," she replied, and jumped out of her seat, slamming her side of the door behind her.

I quickly followed suit, catching up to her as she turned around, still walking backwards, and locked her car with the press of a button on her key device. For someone as small as Selphie, her footsteps were rushed. I hurriedly kept my pace to match hers, walking into the busy, chlorine-smelling front lobby as Selphie made her way to the reception desk.

The receptionist was busy on a call. Smiling at Selphie, she held up a finger to us, indicating for us to wait until she was done.

I spent the time looking around my surroundings. For such a small town, there were a lot of people needing medical attention. The front waiting room was about three-quarters filled with old ladies, women with children, and a couple of guys dotted about. One guy had a bunch of flowers sitting idly on the seat next to him, while he tapped into his phone with an almost bored expression. A few chairs down, an elderly man with a foot cast was falling asleep. Every few seconds, his head would jerk up and he'd let out a series of coughs that had me nauseous from the sound of phlegm reverberating in his throat.

"So, is Luqas like a doctor or something?" I asked Selphie, unable to contain my impatience.

Selphie laughed at me, her grin flashing her white teeth. "No."

I looked at her, expecting for her to say more, but she just turned around and spoke to the receptionist.

"Hey Monica!" Selphie cried excitedly.

"Hey Selphie, how are you? This your friend?" the receptionist asked, giving me an equally-wide grin.

"Hi," I gave a meek greeting, feeling a bit pissed at Selphie's dismissal.

"Yep, this is Rinoa. We go to the same school," Selphie answered the receptionist, "Rinoa, this is Monica, she's a student at Balamb University, but she works here part time."

"Nice to meet you," Monica said warmly.

"Monica is actually a transfer student from Trabia. She just moved her last year."

"Oh cool. I moved from Galbadia," I offered politely.

"Wow, I've been to Galbadia; I spent a summer in Winhill, beautiful town. Where about are you from?" Monica asked with keen interest.

"Deling City, it's north of Winhill, but I've spent a couple of summers in Winhill too. It's a perfect spot for sunbathing." I laughed.

"Yeah it is." Monica agreed, taking a couple of files off her desk and shifting through some papers. "So you girls here to see Luqas? He's made some improvements this week."

"Yeah, can we go up?" Selphie asked eagerly.

"Sure." Monica nodded.

"Okay cool. I'll see ya later." Selphie waved and I did the same.

Taking me by my arm, Selphie led me to a small elevator and got in. When the metal doors closed in front of us, she hit the third floor button and then swayed on her heels until we reached our destination. Once the ping was heard, Selphie almost jumped out of the elevator, turning around to quickly usher me out with her hands.

I followed her through the corridor, noticing how silent it was compared to the busy ground floor. There weren't many people here, and the small waiting room was only occupied by two middle-aged women drinking beverages, engaged in deep conversation. In front of me, a candy striper and a nurse were engaged in their own conversation at another reception desk. They waved to Selphie when they saw her approaching. I thought we were going to have another meet and greet session, but Selphie turned the next left into another hallway and finally stopped outside a sky blue door with a square glass panel.

My eyes roamed over the door for the brief seconds that we stood there, reading the name tag 'Luqas T. Nariall'. My heartbeat paced faster, excitement and nervousness kicking in as I realised this was it; I was meeting this character Seifer had been so passionate on meeting.

It was petty to feel pride over something like this but, in some way, I felt privileged to be given the chance to meet this person, though I presently had no clue who he was. But the fact that the Fated Children had allowed me this meeting and possibly not allowed Seifer – I would definitely ask Selphie about this later — left me feeling satisfied.

Selphie pushed the door open and held it long enough for me walk in behind her. Heeding her command, I walked into a medium sized white-washed hospital room with wide rectangular windows to the front, hidden behind a row of opened blinds. As my eyes travelled through the room, I took notice of a few objects dotted around — a table filled with various flowers —I'd spotted some daisies, sunflowers and lilies — two green armchairs, various paintings of what looked like the Balamb Pier, a row of chest of drawers and finally, a hospital bed with someone lying on it.

Selphie had already gone up, presumably fixing the patient's pillow, thus blocking my sight. I walked up slowly, registering the chequered stitching of the dull blue cotton comforter covering the person, the shape of their feet sticking upwards like two small hills on a blanket of blue grass.

I looked at Selphie as she turned to face me with an excited smile. Halting in my place, I frowned at her questioningly, completely baffled with our presence here and why I was meeting a hospital patient. It seemed highly inappropriate for a first meeting, given that I had no business to walk in on someone in such a personal situation. I hadn't even brought flowers.

Selphie moved back to allow me to see the figure lying on the bed, but I kept my gaze on her. I watched her as she opened her mouth and took a deep breath, presumably readying herself before cluing me in about what was going on.

"Rinoa, I'd like you to meet Luqas Theodore Nariall . . ."

I looked at the hospital bed on my right, seeing a boy around my age sleeping soundly. I frowned in confusion, utterly puzzled by Selphie's behaviour, but a gasp soon escaped my lips when Selphie finished her sentence.

". . . Or as we known him, Squall Leonhart."


Author's Commentary: I thoroughly enjoyed reading about how so many of you were perceptive to the near-perfect anagram of Squall's name. :) I guess after 12 chapters of mystery and intrigue, you guys are elated to know Squall is alive. Now you just gotta figure out who the dude on the motorcycle is. Muahaha ... ~_^