"That Day of Infamy"

Chapter Thirteen
"Nonbattle Injury"

(Day 6.)

Seifer kicked the wall and shot up in an arc that had his jacket scrape the edge of the roof, but the momentum that propelled him forwards proved stronger. He spotted the sorceress below, her green parka moving curtly around her as she ran across the roof.

He tapped on his chest, bracing himself for the impact.

"Dispel!"

Like a puppet with its strings cut, Seifer fell, shooting down in a diagonal line and overtaking the Lea as he landed, hard, rolled and blindly he swung his weapon as he turned. He kept the momentum and brought his gunblade to bear, pulling it from its lowered position up, blade pointed at the sorceress who leapt back, arms flailing, panicked. Seifer pushed in, gunblade ready, to use the only advantage he had ever had against any sorceress, proximity, and closed in on her, preparing to tear her across with one powerful strike.

The sound of metal clashing against metal reverberated sharp and deafening as the gunblade was stopped abruptly. Seifer, unprepared for the block, felt it go from the tip of the blade all the way to his shoulders and down his back.

Panting, her jet-black hair sticking to her face, Lea looked Seifer dead in the eye. Seifer saw in his peripheral vision, unwilling to look away, a sword forming in her hand. He risked a glance down and saw that the weapon was growing out of the concrete under their feet, as if being sieved through a gap.

"Heh." Seifer clenched his teeth in a vicious grin, "That's your power, huh? Drawing things from other things? You're a fucking glorified junkyard alchemist."

"No." Lea panted. The sword now complete, she pushed Seifer's gunblade away and drew a semi-circle in the air with her weapon before bringing it down. Seifer blocked and then, understood. Just to test the theory, he stepped forward, his left foot stomping towards Lea, who adjusted her position, half-turning and stepping back, but keeping her sword locked with his.

Seifer's grin vanished. Lea sighed.

"You get it now, don't you?" she said, "I don't just draw materials."

"You're fucked either way. Just tell me one thing: how did you do that thing with Ifrit?"

"It's a gift."

"Oh, fuck you!"

Seifer pulled back and swung, meeting a masterful parry that had Lea's blade sliding across his to return from the break – he turned, Lea followed, perfectly in sync, not letting up. The blades clashed, rapid strikes bringing the cutting edges together in a myriad of angles, each one a move taught and learned over years and years and years of combat, a lifetime of mastering the weapon.

Lea's boot collided with Seifer's chin and sent him reeling, an opening she used to close in. Seifer rose his gunblade to block, but not before Lea's thrust found purchase and opened up a very shallow gash on his arm. Before she could pull back, Seifer stepped forward and grabbed her by the back of the neck and smashed his forehead against her nose. He heard cartilage break and blood came spurting out of her nostrils as she stumbled backwards, the opening Seifer used to throw a kick.

Barely, but surely, Lea parried it with her right foot, her sole stopping Seifer's ankle and allowing her to carry the momentum on, to spin and execute a desperate swing that Seifer went under – but his gunblade was at his left, and he couldn't both dodge and swing, so he spun as well, came around, blade turning with him and both swords collided once again.

"You drew my skill set from me. That's fucking original." Seifer spat as Lea wiped her nose with the sleeve of her parka, "But I've seen it before, kid, I know how it's done, and who did it first."

"The gift of Sorceress Rinoa."

"Lot of good it did her, in the end, didn't it?"

"You didn't get her for it though, did you?"

Seifer's eyes narrowed to slits.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"You weren't even there. So, come on. I'm your second chance."

"The fuck you know about it? You weren't even born when she died!"

"But she didn't. She lives. In me. They all do."

"Yeah, we'll see about that." Seifer spat and he swung.

He was there, and her contented sigh told him that she was elsewhere entirely.

The grass on the knoll was fresh and the scent was pleasant, even if the day was ending and he still hadn't gotten so much as a decent kiss. The downside of trying to date the General's daughter was that she was afraid somebody wanting to score big with her father would kick his head in.

Let them try. He had basic martial arts training. Sure, he hadn't used anything since the foundation years, but he could hold his own.

He would be a SeeD soon. There were many things in the horizon for him, waiting for him to become what he was always meant to be.

He glanced at her, lying next to him, her eyes closed. She was beautiful, that had been the obvious draw. But more than that, he felt that he envied her innocence. She really thought that two buffoons and a train car left from her mom amounted to a serious resistance movement. She really thought throwing her pocket money at Balamb Garden would get her SeeD to do whatever it was she wanted to do.

Oh, he knew that he wasn't just a handsome rogue she had happened to be interested in. He wasn't stupid enough to think that she would be into him for him. He had a function in this summer romance of theirs, and come his last day in Timber as the forest monster killer, he would probably never see her again.

Not that it mattered, he told himself. They never stayed.

So he enjoyed the sight of her, enjoyed imagining all the things that he knew would never be, that weren't meant for him. An entire life in the blink of an eye, in the time it took for her to open her eyes and catch him staring, a half-smile on his face, memories of lives never lived filing his head and carrying into the moment.

"What're you looking at?" she asked.

"You." he said. Then, he laughed. She averted her gaze, all ashamed, which made him laugh harder. It wasn't at her, he wanted to say, it was at himself. What a line.

If there ever was a story about him, he would want to come up with a better line than that.

Seifer came at her hard, a whirlwind of blade, punches, kicks and feints, not letting up for a second, turning her in circles in the same spot to keep her where she was. For herself, Lea countered, aware that his speed, brute force and technical superiority, despite what she had inherited from him just now, allowed him the advantage. She defended, trying out his own tricks against him, and found that not only was he adept at recognizing them, he was also able to improvise, something she knew she couldn't do.

Her inheritance had come with the one weakness that had, she knew, taken down Sorceress Rinoa in the end – the inability to overcome the enemy using his own weapon.

The strategy was sound: lull him into a sense of superiority by feigning equality, by challenging him at his own game, and then, turn the tables, but now, dodging a flurry of strikes, jabs and slashes, Lea knew that the problem was that she was limited to him when it came to the weapon.

Lea ducked under a wide angle slash, turned and her ankle collided with his. Seifer stumbled, torso leaning back, but leaped back and regained his footing, just in time to find Lea throwing a spinning kick that collided with his jaw, knocking a tooth loose. Seifer spun, bringing his weapon to bear to defend, but as soon as he felt his tooth on his tongue, Lea's blade clashed against his, a blow he felt in his wrists, trying to lower his block. Seifer spat his tooth at her and countered: vertical, straight down, step forward, jab forward, other foot forward, twist the blade, horizontal, stop, switch blade position, diagonal upwards, other foot forward – the Dance, as he called. Step, strike, step, strike: never step forwards twice with the same foot, always advance, never stop.

He jabbed forward, and Lea's blade came from above, forcing his down. She threw a kick that forced him to take a step back to avoid, and that gave her enough distance to point towards him, palm outstretched, and scream:

"Thundaga!"

The chain lightning erupted, thunder booming in his ears and blowing out his eardrums, and Seifer felt the electrical charge penetrate the spell. The gunblade acted as a lightning rod and caught the charge, sending it right down to the insulated hilt. Seifer smelt burning polymer as the handle grew hotter, the heat slowly creeping into his gloves.

Strike while the iron is hot.

Leaving a trail of smoke behind it, Seifer's gunblade danced, once again pushing Lea back. She was sweating profusely, her every move even but her pace slowing, but she saw that Seifer was getting tired as well. Although his stamina was incredible and his strikes had lost neither speed nor strength, his forehead was wet with sweat, he was breathing heavily and he was trying to force his way with brute strength.

A thought flickered in her head and Lea realized that he was trying to overwhelm her before he started losing his strength.

"You can do it," Lea urged, "Come on. Try harder."

He could do it. He knew that he could.

"I guess this is goodbye."

Seifer turned and saw her lower lip tremble. Oh, no. Not here, not now. It was better this way. They had had their time. It had been nice, memories for lonely nights in the secret area.

Thanks for the memories, he wanted to say. I never thought that I could just exist, even in between the moments, as myself. Not the man I want to be, the man they expect me to be. Not what Fujin and Raijin are drawn to, not what pisses Quistis off the most, or gets under Zell's skin. Not the knight I want to be, just me.

He would've laughed, again, this time at the notion: the man behind the uniform. No longer a boy, no longer that child who wondered if he had a brother or a sister somewhere.

No. He was Seifer Almasy. Future SeeD. Future Knight.

Everything was waiting for him at the end of the line. Right now was a waste of time when everything was in his tomorrows.

"Hey." he said, slipping back into his skin, easing himself into the face of senior cadet the juniors begrudgingly admired, "Don't worry. I'll help you out. Cid is a softie, he'll get you what you need."

"You're not just a cadet to me." she said, her voice strained. Seifer could hear the announcement over the intercom, calling for some passenger who hadn't made it yet. The rustle and bustle of station, the hasty goodbyes and assurances for future correspondences surrounding them seemed like a blur, and for a moment, Seifer suspected that only they were real.

"I know." Seifer said, "But I am also that."

"I know."

Say something, something inside of him commanded: say something good. Let her remember you like you want to be remembered.

"How about this?" Seifer said with a smile, "I'll be there."

Rinoa looked up at him with her dark brown eyes wide and misty.

"In the Garden?"

"I'll be waiting there."

"For what?"

"For you. If you come, you'll find me. The next time you see me, I'll be a SeeD. I promise."

Rinoa lingered and then flung her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, desperate, warm and laced with the salt of her tears. Seifer embraced her, letting it slide, letting the world sieve around him and let everything else step back. This was all it was ever going to be, he knew, and found that he didn't want anything else, from her or from this moment, as she hastily withdrew, said her goodbyes and ran off into the crowd, disappearing in an instant.

He smiled and sealed the memory. Then, he turned around and stepped onto the train.

Seifer forced his focus, putting his back into it, aware that he was past his peak point already. His muscles were aching, and he was feeling every single one of his years, and the youth of his enemy, with every strike. He knew that he was grunting, panting and sweating his way through the duel, still dominating the clash but by a hair, slowly losing ground the longer it dragged out.

In his mind, an insistent memory was poking and prodding at his concentration: Squall after Matron's death, telling him about how she had fought, with a sword and better than any swordsman Squall had met, himself included. He had told Seifer about how Matron had tried to tire him out, using the only advantage he had against him with her endless stamina.

Also breathing heavy but vibrant and alive, Lea let out a crystalline laugh and Seifer realized that he had been in a trap, that same trap, this entire time. The feint, the runaround, the duel... it was all just a ruse.

He became very aware of the fact that the trap had already closed.

He had swallowed it hook, line and sinker. Like a fucking amateur, like a cadet. Like an inexperienced boy messing around with the General's daughter just for the hell of it.

"What's the matter!?" Lea shouted, "You're supposed to be better than this! Come on, put some effort into it! I'm right here! Come on, kill me!"

"Fuck... you!" he shouted through clenched teeth, "You fucking witch!"

Seifer's anger flared and he threw a kick, pulling his blade back to extend his reach.

That's when he realized, in that split second before his foot found the ground and he readjusted his stance, that that had been the mistake.

The only mistake that would matter.

Lea's blade sliced into his stomach, cutting him open as she drew a perfect line in the air, dragging along his blood with him. He felt the cold metal enter and leave, but before he could turn, Lea spun, in a perfect imitation of a move he had used many times before, and he saw it coming.

Lea's sword plunged into his chest, sliding in between his ribs and tearing right into his lungs. She put her palm on the bottom of the hilt and leaned into it, pushing the blade's tip out his back.

Seifer shook. Blood started to fill up his lung, Lea leaned in, breathing heavy, her every breath releasing vapor into the air.

"Why can't you do it? Why can't any of you do it?" Lea whispered into his ear, her voice quivering.

Seifer tried to lift his gunblade but it seemed glued to the ground. His arms wouldn't move. He was choking, gurgling. Blood came rushing out of his mouth, and through clenched teeth, he looked daggers at her gleeful eyes. He knew that the wound was fatal. He knew that she had him, dead to rights and now, dead, proper.

His grip released and his gunblade fell. Lea was twisting the blade, slowly, opening up his ribs, widening the wound. Blood came dripping down to the ground as he choked, left hand reaching for her throat... with only one hand he could... he still could...

...he wouldn't be the failure in the end. He wouldn't be the disappointment, the old shame, best forgotten. He wouldn't be the pariah, the traitor, the hated one, the once-villain. He wouldn't be the penitent.

No, with only one hand he could still break her fucking neck, squeeze the life out of her. He could still win.

He could still be all he had ever wanted to be and kill her. One more inch and...

"Why can't you do it?" Lea pleaded, "Why can't any of you do it? I am not that good."

Lea's knee pressed against his stomach, and she pulled the blade back as she twisted it, and pushed him off. Seifer stumbled over his own feet and fell, limbs flailing, and hit the ground, hard. He choked, his arms and legs twitching, trying to keep him alive. His hand scraped across the concrete, leaving a trail of red, a trail in which he saw his yesterdays extend all the way back to that moment on the grass, that line he wished he hadn't used.

Not like this... he thought, his mind desperately trying to figure out a way for him to survive, Hyne, not like this.

He heard the sound of something sharp entering meat with great force and heard Lea grunt. His eyes moved in their sockets to see her turn around, revealing the scythe of Quistis' chain whip stuck in her back.

"You struck me in the back!" Lea snarled, one arm curling to let her grab the chain, "You coward! You're supposed to be better than this!"

"What have you done!?"

Quistis. Seifer turned away, looked at the rugged surface of the flat roof. The irregularities in the concrete, cracks and the smallest protrusions, like the barren terrain of Centra, full of monsters.

His mouth was full of blood. It was sweeter than he remembered, sweeter still that it was the last of it.

Seifer heard Lea pull the scythe out with a sickening crunch. She grunted as the footsteps drew closer, the chain of Quistis' whip rattling, and a thought flared in Seifer's head, synapses firing at full force:

Don't let her see me like this.

Lea's presence vanished, following her off the roof and back into the streets below. Seifer heard the chain whip clang and felt a familiar touch: slender fingers snaking around the back of his neck to hold his head up.

The blurred shape came into focus and Seifer saw Quistis' eyes.

What he saw in those electric blue orbs shook him to his core, even when he was sputtering and twitching and trying to speak through drowning in his own blood. Even when dying, he saw that she was so... so...

"You were..." he forced the words through the blood filling his lungs, "...right... about me..." he coughed, spat blood as she cradled his head, whispering his name over and over again, her panicking voice stuck repeating it, "...you were... always... right... I... I..."

"No... no... Seifer! Seifer, please!"

I've had a good run, he thought as the darkness began closing in from the edges of his vision inwards, swallowing his entire existence in the pitch-black washing the world and so himself clean of him.

So this is what it feels like.

The whole world dipped into the void, and as the sounds and sensations grew more and more distant, as everything burned in the sight of the brilliant white light scorching his existence, he heard a scream, desperate, full of loss and more sorrow than could be contained in one voice, ringing... fading... in the distance...

"Seifer!"

Author's Note: Now, given that Lea could kill with one word, why does she engage Seifer in a duel? This is a question I was also posed regarding why Rinoa would purposefully engage Squall in a gunblade duel rather than to use magic back in The Third Sorceress War Parts I and III. The answer is actually simple: Lea does harbor a bit of a deathwish, and is only engaging SeeD to have engaged SeeD. Secondly, Seifer makes the observation that the gunblade is meant to lull him into a false sense of security and make him sloppy, overconfident, because it's his specialty. Thirdly, something Seifer doesn't notice, and neither did Squall - using a gunblade against him forces him into the mindset of a gunblade specialist, but Lea, imbued with more than just a gunblade specialist's skills, is able to use her other gifts to gain the upper hand.