Cradle

If the pain had lasted for one more minute, Fujin was sure she would have needed to rush to the hospital. She'd spent the entire day after the incident in the library locked up in her dark hotel room, writhing, feverish, and restless—tossing and turning in and out of a nightmare-ridden sleep; plagued by intense muscle spasms that wouldn't allow her to rest for more than an hour at a time. Not a single muscle spasm in a single limb, but several throughout her body, simultaneously—her calves, her abdomen, her back; places on her that she never even knew cold seize up.

There were moments where she contemplated making a sweaty-palmed phone call to Cid for help, or at least to Dr. Kadowaki for advice, just to let someone know she felt like she was on the brink of something catastrophic. She also didn't really want to run the risk of Seifer and Raijin coming home from Timber and finding her buried under the soft blankets, lifeless and stiff—they'd never recover from that.

But knowing that the mission was at stake and loathing the idea of being perceived as weak by the higher ups at Balamb, she made the bold decision that she was going to be fine—as if deciding it made it so. With no plans to call for help or schlep herself to an emergency room, Fujin simply stayed in bed and waited the pain out—that SeeD training for withstanding capture and torture coming in incredibly handy. She reached that blessed point her instructors always told her about, when her energy was too depleted and her mind too numb to register that she was still in pain. Her body gave way to the agony, and she fell into a deep slumber.

She must've managed to net at least five hours of solid sleep, and thankfully, miraculously, found relief on the other side of it. The sound of Deling's morning traffic roused her, and she rubbed her eyes in astonishment that she was still breathing.

Fujin swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood slowly, desperate to support the weight of her own body and know that her muscles hadn't turned to mush. Her limbs still throbbed tenderly as the fibers of her muscles stretched and guided her upright—even the feel of the blankets pulling against her skin ached. But with the constant pain of spasms long gone and only the sting of pain far-removed left behind, it was the first clear-minded moment she'd had to think about what the fuck had just happened to her, and why this recent incident manifested this way for her—agony coupled with debilitating exhaustion.

Even though she was a seasoned warrior who'd had her cage rattled by some pretty powerful spells, this was the worst she'd ever felt. It even paled in comparison to what she'd gone through last year, when Raijin serendipitously discovered that the Disciplinary Committee badges were keyed incorrectly and allowed to access to a sub-floor of Balamb Garden. Raijin couldn't hold back his excitement to explore, and with Seifer nowhere to be found he dragged a reluctant Fujin along with him to show off his discovery. They ran into an advanced monster called a Tri-Face five minutes into the adventure, and she fell victim to a flare spell that knocked her out cold. Had Raijin not been well stocked with Phoenix Downs and ready with few cure spells at his fingertips, she'd probably be dead right now.

Fujin spent a week in the infirmary recovering. Hyne had Seifer been pissed at them … but, he got over it quickly when he saw how small and fragile she looked in a hospital gown, bandaged up and buried under blankets. He ditched classes to stay by her bedside while she recovered, telling her Kadowaki promised the burns wouldn't scar and teaching her about elemental magic junctioning so she'd be better prepared next time. Imagine how angry he'd be with her now for lying, if he'd seen her this way …

But even the pain of that—of delicate singed skin pressing against Raijin's arms as he scooped her up and bolted to the infirmary—felt nothing like this. And at least she'd passed out soon after that happened, and hadn't had to lie awake in pain waiting for relief to come. She also hadn't had a single dream, at least nothing memorable. Not like this time at all …

Fujin pushed the thoughts of her nightmare aside and groaned as she attempted to raise her arms above her head to stretch her back. She winced when she realized that level of mobility hurt too much, and begrudgingly let her limbs go limp at her sides.

Her eyelids felt heavy again and seemed intent on staying closed, but she refused to lie down and sleep more. She painstakingly propelled her body towards a cushioned chair by the window overlooking the city, and lowered herself down with a groan. She'd take a rouge flare spell over this again any day—at least it was obvious where the pain came from and at least Kadowaki had drugs to treat it. Good drugs. She'd tried an Elixir and it hadn't even touched this.

Fujin wondered what had been so different this time. After all, the recent visit from the wind hadn't lasted longer than one that Seifer had witnessed on the boat. But, the voice she heard was clearer and stronger, and she could speak with it using only her mind … Maybe the strength of the connection was what depleted her energy so much?

It made sense that if there was a connection between GFs and memory loss, it was possible that summoning them burned up essential minerals for brain function dealing with learning retention and memory—sodium, potassium. And who knows how quickly they'd burn up if they were being summoned by something else living inside her that also used up those same things. Low potassium levels could explain the muscle cramps...

She didn't have the energy to dissect it now—she was already exhausted again from the bed-to-chair odyssey. Fujin leaned on the mahogany windowsill with her elbow, propping her chin on her hand and peering through the hotel room curtains at the morning sun—it was daylight … had she really been sleeping for that long? Hard to believe that the library incident had happened two nights ago and she was still recovering from it. Hard to believe Seifer hadn't caught on, too.

Fujin had thrown all the energy she could muster into pulling the wool over his eyes, which was a feat all on its own because he'd called her three times yesterday: once in the morning just to say hello—which in retrospect was painfully sweet, considering she'd never heard him make a morning phone call to anyone else before—and once at night to report on the day and check-up on her. Check-up being the key phrase, as her groggy and almost incoherent state on their morning call aroused some suspicion.

And so it was that other call that she kept replaying in her head—the extra one he'd placed immediately following their morning chat, where he very pointedly asked her if something was wrong. The anxiety and frustration in his voice had been palpable.

Fuu, sorry for calling back … I just … something didn't sound right. Are you okay?

Yeah, I'm fine. Fujin made her best attempt to sound breezy, finding it was a much easier thing to accomplish when she had a little tequila in her, and when here muscles didn't feel like they were dissolving. I just haven't had any coffee yet.

Fujin. Seifer groaned as he spoke her name. She visualized him pressing his fingers to his forehead in frustration. Come on—you sound awful. What's going on?

Nothing—I mean, I guess I didn't sleep well. Maybe that's it. He didn't respond at first, taking a moment to analyzed her imprecise words and the slight waver to her voice. She could hear Raijin whispering something to him in the background, followed by Seifer's hand muffling the mouthpiece as he told their friend to "butt out."

Okay, what's up Fuu? I know something's wrong, so you may as well just spit it out. Is it the wind again?

Without realizing he was doing it, Seifer was once again putting her in the difficult position of choosing them or the mission, and at the most inconvenient time, too. But even through her exhaustion, she could tell the worry in his voice outweighed any anger he was feeling at her feeble attempt to keep a secret from him—he wasn't doing it intentionally.

You're right, I'm not feeling good today, she'd told him, only willing to provide a half-truth and hoping it would wrap things up quickly and neatly. I went to one of the local pubs last night, just before we talked, to see if I could get more of a read of the local sentiment about the sorceress. I had a drink while I was out—I was trying to blend in. I hadn't eaten much, and I got a little sick this morning and I still feel terrible. I'm sorry, I don't know why I didn't just say that.

Hyne Fujin, did we not just have a conversation about you being careful? Seifer's voice was followed by some faint scuffling sounds and the click of a closing door—he'd stretched the phone line to sequester himself in the hallway for privacy from Raijin. I wouldn't really call drinking by yourself being careful. It's one thing if we're in Balamb, or we're all visiting somewhere together, but someone could've … Seifer thought twice about finishing the sentence, not wanting to imagine the scenario.

We're in the middle of a job, and someone could be tailing you. You never know. He tried to frame his concern in an official SeeD capacity. Normally she would have scoffed at his controlling tone, but she was trying to keep her secret, and fighting over an imaginary problem seemed excessively pointless.

It was only one drink, Seif—it just made my stomach queasy. But you're right anyway—it's dangerous to be inhibited in any way on a mission, especially without you guys here. I'll be more careful next time. Maybe she'd given in too quickly. Maybe she should have protested. Would he catch on?

Good, that's all I'm asking. And hey, why not just tell me the truth?

Do you think you have a monopoly on worry? Fujin had to clench her teeth to stop herself from crying out in pain as her muscles burned from a slight movement she made on the bed. And like you haven't kept some of this Rinoa stuff from me? I don't want you to worry … you don't want me to worry. We're probably just making it worse by trying to protect each other … Seifer sighed again, taking her lie and her reasons for it at face value at the mention of Rinoa.

You're probably right. Hyne … I don't think I've ever told you not to drink before. Sorry, probably a little outta line, right? Fuck. She heard him scratching at the beginnings of an unshaven beard. I guess this is going to take some time to get used to. We'll get better at it, though.

Sufficiently comforted by hearing that Fujin was okay, and satisfied at uncovering the deception he thought she'd been trying to sneak past him, Seifer was content to end the conversation. He whispered a few tender words to her, things he was only comfortable saying from the seclusion of the hallway without their bronze friend around, and let the call end with the promise of talking to her later—the lie had been successful.

The only problem now was that he was on his way back to her, and she was still legitimately not feeling her best and she looked it. Her skin was ashy and chalk white, her bloodshot eyes had stark dark circles under them. Her nerves felt raw. She was anxious, tired, had a light headache, and all her muscles carried a tender ache. So yes, the lie had been successful … but there was no way Seifer would believe it when he saw her.

Thus the task of figuring out what to do for the day became a new problem hitched to the previous one—a chain of dilemmas.

Staying at the hotel would only mean more bad dreams and locked up muscles, which desperately needed to be stretched. Plus, if she didn't move around and get the feeling of life back into her, there was no way she could pull off looking remotely normal by the time he got back. But it sounded both daunting and nauseating to head back into Deling to mine for mission-related data, and hunkering down under florescent lights in the dark library and risking another incident was also a terrible idea. Both of those ideas were off the table.

Fujin supposed she could go for a drive … but then she'd be by herself, which was risky given what just happened to her. Besides, she didn't have her own car and the last thing she wanted to do was face the guy at the rental place who'd apparently caught her and Seifer in a compromising position. She was marooned by bad options and her own over-analytical mind.

She gazed out the window, her eyes catching on a trail of sparsely clothed people milling in the street below, waiting to board one of Deling's blue buses. Many of them had their arms piled high with towels, while others were stuffing a cargo area under the bus with a variety of colorful plastic buckets, coolers, and folding beach chairs. A mother was ushering a rowdy group of children through the accordion doors as she frantically tried to apply sunscreen to two slippery boys, one blond and one brunette, who evaded her grasp—they reminded her of Raijin and Seifer.

The beach. Of course. It could've been a sign from Hyne himself.

Nothing gave Fujin more comfort than the sound of the water, and she was desperately seeking peace of mind to steel her nerves. Ever since she was a child, the gentle lull of the tide soothed her.

Oftentimes during the languid summer days spent fishing with Seifer and Raijin, she'd stay late at the Balamb docks long after her friends had grown tired of waiting for the fish to bite. As she lamented how Seifer was everywhere around her yet still hopelessly out of reach, Fujin always found unmatched solace sitting on the weather-beaten boards and listening to the waves crash under the evening sunset. The sound transported her to a place of thought beyond thought, time beyond time—where a day of not having what she wanted didn't matter, because infinity stretched before her like the endless sea.

A short trip to Galbadia's beach, Fujin had decided, was a perfect solution to today's problem. She could find an anonymous patch of sand to claim as her own, and swim in the cresting waves; the weightlessness they offered her would give her aching limbs the good but gentle stretch they needed. The bright sun and salty water would provide a valid explanation for her dry, bloodshot eyes. Her skin might even turn pink from a light burn, to at least give her the slightest shade of something living. Plus, she wouldn't have to rent a car—she could hop right on the bus. Most importantly, she wouldn't be lying in the dark hotel while her mind created unfathomable, dark things when she closed her eyes.

Fujin packed up a few provisions in a small bag—water and sunscreen from the front desk charged to their room, a hotel towel, shorts and a tank in place of a swimsuit—and caught the next bus to the beach. The trip was uneventful, save for the constant the chatter of other beach-goes exacerbating her headache. As luck would have it, she found a stylish pair of abandoned sunglasses wedged between the seats she'd selected, and stuffed them into her bag. Not one to normally nick things from other people, she didn't see any harm in scooping up something that had technically already been lost.

She'd never been to Galbadia Beach before—had never even heard of it—but she soon discovered that it wasn't very large. It was a small stretch of sand that would have been pretty had it not been enclosed by a tall fence edged with barbed wire. Standing at the entrance checkpoints were armed by Galbadian soldiers, who must have been stationed there to keep beasts at bay. She'd wondered how an area like the Galbadian Plains, with such a high monster population, managed to provide public swimming … it certainly gave a beach day a very different feeling than lazy days in Balamb—a much more occupied feeling.

When she approached a checkpoint to gain entry, one of the guards eyed her suspiciously and pulled her from the line of people waiting to pay for entrance.

"What's your business at Galbadia Beach, miss?" Huh, peculiar … a little intense to interrogate someone for a day of swimming. His voice sounded familiar, but the helmet he was wearing obscured his face from view—only his eyes were showing. Wasn't he hot in that thing? What could she do but roll with it? Fujin didn't want to cause any trouble.

"Just here to get a tan." She smiled, and he glared at her pale skin and rolled his eyes.

"You're not here for a tan. You're here to find something, or maybe to choose. I'd prefer you not lie about it miss." Thoroughly confused, Fujin shrugged and stared back at him, her brow furrowing.

"I'm … not sure what you mean by any of that. I'm not here to find anything—I have everything I need." She hesitantly opened her bag to show him it's contents. It looked fuller than she remembered—like she'd stuffed an entire world in there before she got on the bus. How was she ever going to find anything in this? She muttered the thought angrily in her head, as the guard reached out to close her bag without looking inside.

"That's what they all say, lady. But sooner or later they all realize they're here for one reason: the wind or the salt."

What the fuck does that mean?

"Really, I'm not looking for trouble. I'm just here to swim." Fujin held her hands up in front of her, the heavy bag pulling at her shoulder. The guard rolled his eyes again, and ushered her back in line.

"Sure, miss. You just keep telling yourself that. Have fun, ya know." Mystified, Fujin looked over her shoulder as the line marched forward and the guard sauntered away. He looked back at her, laughing at their conversation when he joined up with the other soldiers on watch. How rude, she thought, as she made her way through the checkpoint.

The quarantined area was incredibly crowded, but a distant sandbar surfaced by the low-tide caught her eye and offered her sanctuary. Fujin waded in the thigh-deep water to it speedily, her body aching with exhaustion when she finally reached the fresh, damp sand. She unfurled her towel with help of the gentle breeze, and wearily sank down to lie flat on the cotton bed as she tried to catch her breath after the arduous journey. She'd never felt this gutted after a simple walk on the beach before. Fujin closed her eyes and swallowed hard, as the sand shifted to the shape of her body and formed a cradle of earth—she wasn't used to feeling so helpless.

She'd been displaying plenty of helplessness and weakness lately, though. Hyne, it was embarrassing to think of how many times she'd cried in front of Seifer … she'd unleashed more tears these past couple of weeks than she had in her entire life. It was a clear sign that this issue with her junctioning was having an impact on how she was processing things; this new element to her relationship with Seifer, the confirmed death of her mother and these baffling interactions with her and Pandemona … everything. The effects of this recent incident with the wind had even scared her, and fear wasn't a feeling she experienced often.

What was it that they'd whispered to her? It's you … it's us. She'd need to choose. And then came a vision of him telling her it was over and pushing her down, and another of him storming towards her, full of fury, and grabbing her throat.

Fujin shot upright with a gasp, the white towel balled in her fists; she must have dozed off. The sun had moved higher in the sky and her skin was warm to the touch—she was definitely going to be burnt.

Desperate to cool off, she wobbled to her feet. She fought the pain and the urge to lie back down and close her eyes, and marched towards the water without thinking; not stopping until she was submerged to her chest. Maybe the the pattern of undulating of the waves would beat out a rhythm on entire body, like when she drummed her fingers on her chakram in battle, but amplified—maybe it would help her focus beyond the pain and fear.

Fujin let herself go, allowing her body to float with the rise and fall of the waves; her back turned to the expanse of the ocean as she gazed at the shoreline. Closing her eyes and tilting her face to the sky, she breathed deeply as the water broke against her neck and enveloped her in a white salt spray. She wiped her face and opened her eyes again, blinking as another wave bared down on her and obscured her vision with a curtain of silver hair. She dunked underwater quickly, running her hands over face to push the silky strands caught in her lashes aside, and held her breath to sink low under the ocean's cool skin. There, that was the answer. That's where comfort waited for her.

If a home was a physical place where a person felt most secure—where they could plant their feet, rest their weary bones, and wait life out until the end of days—then the vast, volatile sea was hers. At least, it was the answer she'd supply people with when asked where she pictured herself living later in life after SeeD … as if any of them planned on a future. Near the ocean, on the coast, somewhere that rocky bluffs meet the salt, she'd always say. It was mostly true—those briny depths were her kindred spirit.

A physical home wasn't a concept that the Posse had a full grasp of, though as children they always imagined it would make them feel more complete if they did. They even created imaginary origin stories for themselves as placeholders until they discovered their real ones. Raijin always said that he came from the lazy town of Fisherman's Horizon, born to a sailor who'd volunteered to fight for Galbadia in the war, and who'd gallantly been lost at sea. Seifer, on the other hand, claimed he'd probably been born on the Island Closest to Hell, despite the fact that no one could survive there—how else could he have grown up to be so strong? Fujin would agree with him, unwavering in her support, but in her own mind always thought he missed the best part of the story—that he must have been the son of Odin, or one of the great mythical warrior relics of the past. How else could he be so strong?

Seifer always said that Fujin hailed from Trabia, deeming her snow white skin a sign that she sprang from the desolate Northern tundra. People who lived in the subzero temperatures were hard, tough, and had a greatness about them, he'd surmised, and she had it in her to be that way too. It thrilled her back then to think of how Seifer Almasy, the storied son of Odin who was born on the Island Closest to Hell and lived to tell the tale, thought that she had greatness in her.

Regardless of his confidence, Fujin never believed him—she wasn't convinced that a home was a physical place. She could visit all the snowy peaks in the north, all the oceans around the world, and feel only a fraction of the calm and belonging that she knew was possible now. She found solace, unmatched, in one place only … wherever Seifer was.

Eventually, they grew out of their mythology. The Trabia story was complete fiction—just part of Seifer's plan to make her less insecure and convince her she had a greatness in her waiting to be unleashed. They knew for certain now that Fujin was an orphaned child from Centra. She was the product of a soldier and a sorceress … the spirit of which was living in her brain and ravaging her body as it tried to get out …

Fujin preferred Seifer's myth of how she contained an untapped greatness; this version of her story gave her the feeling that death was waiting for her. Apparently the symbolism wasn't enough, and her brain decided it need to go one step farther and conjure a vision …

Fuck. Even a trip to the ocean couldn't give her mind a moments rest from what was happening to her. The horrific nightmare was ever present and the thoughts of death pervasive, no matter how much she tried to ignore it—the constant whirring wind of Pandemona reminded her of it every second. The things she'd experienced yesterday hadn't helped—her body felt like it was rebelling and rejecting her spirit …. like it was trying to push her out.

As Fujin bobbed beneath the water, a haunting vision from her dreams flashed in her mind and made her queasy—his strong hands gripping her neck; his distant green eyes rimmed with a golden glow; the skin of his wrists piling up in layers under her fingernails as she clawed at him, scratching and sputtering desperately. But he didn't stop squeezing the life from her as he looked through her … beyond her.

It was vivid and tactile—she could feel his warmth, his breath, and the energy of his fury burning into her. It was so real that even now Fujin felt her lungs aching for air. She shot back to the surface gasping. Before she could catch her breath and force the nightmare from her head, another wave bore down on her and pulled her underwater again.

You've betrayed me, Fujin. She heard the words he'd whispered to her while she slept, even through the wind and water; he glowered at her ferociously, red-faced, as hot tears streaked down her cheeks and she struggled to cling to life. You've betrayed me.

Fujin blinked, and with the salt stinging her eyes she kicked her tired legs to propel herself towards shallower depths—beyond the reach of the oppressive high waves. She choked when she surfaced, her chest heaving as she winced at the false memory of phantom hands around her throat.

She knew he could be dangerous and unpredictable—volatile as the sea—but Fujin still couldn't imagine a scenario where Seifer would ever hurt her, let alone try to kill her. Why would her mind play such a cruel trick? She could never tell him … he'd be crushed that her subconscious could even conceive of it.

"Hey lady, are ya alright?" Fujin sucked in a deep breath, her eyes searching the shore to find a young brunette boy waving at her animatedly, with another blonde child rushing to his side, his eyes narrowing as they were hit by the sun. They were the same two boys she'd spotted from her hotel room window earlier in the day. What were the odds …

"Fine, thanks." Fujin waved back at him, her heaving chest aching at she continued trudging forward in the thick sand, her wet clothes adding to the burden.

"Ya sure? Looked like you were drowning. We thought we were going to have to save ya."

"Nope, just swimming." Had she been drowning? Her lungs sure felt like it …

"Hey, this ring yours?" The blond boy held his hand up in the air, displaying a shining object glittering in the sun. "I found it on the sand here."

Fujin looked down at her naked hand, noting that her ring was, in fact, gone. But it had fit so snugly before. Her hands must have shrunk in the cool breeze … just enough for the silver circle to fall off.

"Thanks, I think it is." Fujin called out and tried to pick up her pace, but her legs ached too much from the combined pull of the sand and the push of the water. She stepped slowly and awkwardly high above the waves—her calves burned.

"It's got blue stones all over it." The blond boy observed, turning it over in his fingers. "It looks expensive. Are these sapphires?"

"You know, they might be." Fujin flashed a weak smile at the child as she approached him, her hand outstretched. "I don't really know for sure. It was my mother's ring." The words fell off her tongue awkwardly—she'd never said the word mother to anyone outside the walls of Garden. The boy smiled at that, and looked up at her with green eyes as he held the ring out and dropped it onto her palm.

"You should wear it then—she probably meant for you to have it." His phrasing was odd … familiar ... but Fujin didn't think much of it. She was just relieved to have the ring back—funny how could she be so relieved about getting it back when she never even realized she'd lost it.

"Yes … she probably did." She slid the ring onto her finger, transfixed by how snugly it fit back into place. How had it fallen off?

"Thanks for returning it to me. I'd give you a reward if I had any money." Fujin looked around the sandbar, spotting the bag she'd brought with her to the beach in the distance. "Oh, but … I did bring the whole world with me today, for some reason. It's yours if you want it." The blond boy considered the offer, smirking as his lips began to part with an answer just a second too late—his brunette friend cut him off.

"No thanks, we're just glad you're here to get it back to … we were sure you were drowning, ya know?" The brunette insisted again as she twisted the ring in a circle on her finger.

"Nah, not Fujin." Did she tell them her name? Awestruck, Fujin lifted her gaze to meet the eyes of the blond boy in front of her, and was greeted by the green eyes of a man instead—Seifer. "Tossed by the waves but never sunk, eh Fuu?"

The tone in his voice was off—he sounded menacing. Before she could respond, the blue sky above them shifted to a haunting backlit gray, and Seifer's face hardened. She took a step backwards in shock, almost falling into the water before he lunged toward her and caught her throat in his hands.

"You've betrayed me." He whispered calmly as she gasped for air through guttural pleas, the water rushing around her. "Fujin …"

"Fujin," Seifer's voice repeated again, as she felt another hand gripping her shoulder and shaking her. "Fuu …"

Fujin woke up with a start, her head jolting a few inches away from its cradle in the crook of her elbow. Her cheek ached from being pressed to something hard—wood, the smell of mahogany. She felt a hand on her shoulder, kneading the muscles there with tender fingertips. When her eyes began to focus, they were drawn to the large window in front of her, revealing a view of Deling's skyline sparkling in the late afternoon sun.

She'd never even left the room. She must've fallen asleep again this morning while staring out the window … the whole thing had been a fucking fever dream.

"Babe?" She crooked her head to the left to find Seifer crouched down, his massive hand stretched across her shoulder blades, his gentle green eyes gazing at her with a touch of concern—he must've been the one to shake her awake from that nightmare, and she loved him so much in that moment she thought she'd burst.

"Hyne, you're a sight for sore eyes. Even though you seem to have no fucking clue who I am." He chuckled as his golden fingers moved to brush the hair from her eyes. "That's some deep sleep you were having."

"I guess it was … I just had the weirdest dream." Fujin managed to speak through her confusion, though her dry mouth fumbled the words. She made up for it by reaching her hand out weakly to tug on the collar of his coat. "Welcome back. I'm really happy to see you."

"Me too … well, happy to see you, that is." Seifer smiled, and readjusted to sit on his knees so he could lean in to press his lips to hers before wrapping his arm around her. Fujin gratefully sank into his warmth.

"Fuck, I've missed you. I even left Raijin behind to wrap up paperwork with the car so I could have you to myself for a minute—he'll probably wind up renting another car instead of returning that one, but what's life without a little risk?" Seifer chuckled, twisting his fingers in her hair as she nuzzled his neck. "Man, what have you done to me, Sanada? I'm a ruined man."

"Same … utterly ruined," she replied and weakly wrapped her arms around him in return—her exhaustion paired with his light touch and tender words had her on the verge of tears. That monster in the nightmare of hers could never be the man kneeling in front of her now. "I'm so happy to see you, Seif."

"You said that already …" Seifer pulled away from her to look into her eyes, and stroked cheek with his thumb. "Now, what's going on? Why the hell are you passed out on the windowsill in a puddle of your own drool? You fall asleep watching for our car or something? I'm flattered." She blushed, and rushed to wipe both her cheek and the signs of dampness from where her mouth had been pressed to the wood.

"No, I've just been tired all day. I thought it was the drink yesterday but … I think maybe I'm getting sick, picked up the flu or something.".

"A flu, huh?" Seifer's arched an eyebrow and pressed his hand to her forehead, and then pressed his lips there too as if they were another instrument to gauge temperature. "You don't feel warm."

"Well, I definitely don't feel good … but, I guess I feel a little better now that you're back." Fujin buried her face against his collarbone again; she felt him smile against her ear—he seemed to like it when she sought him out for comfort or initiated the touch, and today she reveled in the comfort he gave her. Unmatched solace.

"Well, unfortunately our alone time might be a little short-lived. We've been invited to dinner later tonight." Seifer's hand found hers and he looped their fingers together. "To Caraway Mansion … Rinoa was pretty set on all of us going, and the General might be back … I don't think you're up to it though. Should I cancel? We could lay low here instead."

"No, don't. It's a good opportunity." Fujin shook her head and pulled away from him. "I'll come too … I need to see Caraway again, if he's home. Maybe I can get him alone to talk."

"Okay, but …" Seifer inspected her face now, touching his fingertips to the dark circles under her eyes. "You sure about that? You look really tired."

"That's just a nice way to say I look like shit."

"Never. Not possible." He smirked, and gently slid his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her in for a deep kiss. How could she even imagine that those hands of his would ever hurt her? Fujin sank down against him again afterward, sighing as she pressed her palm to his chest.

"Well, if I'm sick you're definitely going to get it now." She yawned, desperately trying to force her eyes to stay open.

"Worth it," he murmured, as he ran his hand through her hair. "Something's definitely not right with you, though. We have a few hours to kill—you wanna sleep more? You know, on a real bed. I'll stay with you." As quickly as she nodded in approval, he was slipping an arm under her legs and lifting her effortlessly—cradling her against his chest.

"Hyne, you feel lighter today." Seifer observed as he placed her gently on the closest twin bed, his voice riddled with questions that he didn't dare ask her yet. She knew he could tell that this definitely wasn't the flu. But for whatever reason—pity, fear of knowing, or fear of making her angry, Hyne knows why—instead of asking the questions that were on the tip of his tongue, he busied himself with pushing the middle twin bed up against hers to create one large king.

"What about Raijin?" Fujin asked as she rolled onto her side, a groan escaping her throat before she remembered to mask it. At least she couldn't see his face; if she couldn't see the questions, she could pretend they weren't there.

"What about him? I know his feelings are hurt, but we can't be expected to shelter him from this forever—he'll deal with it."

"I … didn't realize you knew." She whispered groggily, unable to give the revelation the full attention it deserved.

"Don't worry about it, Fuu. We can talk about that some other time." She heard Seifer's coat fall to the floor, and it was soon followed by the weight of his body settling next to her on the bed. He scooted towards her and pulled her close. "Let's just rest—I'm tired too. Missing you wore me out."

No, it was ludicrous—inconceivable. He would never hurt her. She pressed herself into him. After all, nightmares weren't premonitions.

They were a reflection of your basest thoughts though, Fujin thought, as her eyes grew heavier. What did it mean, that she offered him the world with no question, and that he'd tried to kill her with his own hands in the waves?

No, Seifer could never hurt her. The words echoed in her head as she drifted off to sleep.