Fujin had disappeared.

This was not a welcome change of pace for Seifer, who was already drenched, cold, and tired. Now, between wondering why they had to have caught up with the rain and endure a forced march through the middle of nowhere, he had to try to figure out where the hell Fujin had gone and how in the name of all things holy she had given them the slip.

No one else in the team seemed especially pleased, either, but Seifer's snarling affront was by far the most obvious show of displeasure. Raijin only seemed baffled, Nida wearied, and Squall--exactly as Squall had looked through the rest of the trip.

They were standing at the top of a small hill, two Blood Souls lying dead at their feet. Somewhere in the brief commotion of their attack Fujin had made a break for it, and no one could venture a guess as to where she had gone.

The point of Hyperion dug into the mud, and Seifer looked around once more. He had no idea where Fujin had been leading them, so he had no idea which direction she would have headed off to. "We're going to have to split up," he said, at length. "It's the only way we're gonna find her."

There was an expectant silence, all eyes turning to Squall to hear his imminent objection. However, either he had had the same idea or he was just getting used to the idea that his objections were going to be ignored one way or another--he didn't respond with anything except a curt "Fine. Whatever."

"Here," Nida said, glancing at Squall. "I'll go with Seifer, and you can go with Raijin. We'll scout down when the hills even out, and you can go along the hill line. If we find her or anything, we can send up a Flare, and you can do the same."

Squall gave Raijin a sidelong glance, and grimaced. Shrugging sullenly, he turned on his heel and stalked off without ceremony. Raijin glanced back at Nida and Seifer, and then hurried to catch up.

Seifer shook his head, staring at what little he could see of the lowlands through the rain. "I'll take left," he said. "You go right."

"Uh, the idea was really to--"

"If I need your help, I'll holler." Seifer's tone brooked no room for argument. Sheathing Hyperion, he started down the hill.

"All right, then," Nida said dubiously from behind him. "Have it your way."

There was a faint light somewhere down below that Nida hadn't seen, and Seifer's curiosity was piqued. He doubted it was a fire--not in this weather--and it seemed unlikely to be an outpost or house, but the fact was that it was there. All he knew was that Fujin was looking for something in this goddamned wasteland, and something was putting out that light.

He made good time without really meaning to hurry, drawing closer to the source of the light. The something was beginning to materialize out of the storm, now--a building, not large, but not tiny. The light was coming from one of the windows, blurry in the rain--

...it was a house.

One house, in the middle of nowhere. What it was doing there was anyone's guess.

In fact, it looked very homely--if also very overgrown. It had bushed and a tree or two and what looked to be a crude tire swing and a picket fence in poor repair--

--and someone stood up from behind the picket fence, posture making it evident that he had seen Seifer and that Seifer had better not come any closer.

"Who are you?" the man called, voice half-masked by the rain. "Esthar patrol?"

Seifer made a disarming gesture, approaching until he could see the man. It was a cyborg--sans helmet, sans weapon. "Just passing by," he said.

"Don't come any closer." The man looked him over, stepping out of the gate and closing it behind him. "Tell me who you are."

Esthar was on a long list of countries that Seifer doubted would be happy to see him. "No one, really," he said. "You?"

The man looked around uncomfortably. "I don't want to fight you," he said. "I really, really don't. Just tell me who you are, and why you're out here."

Seifer's hand went to his gunblade. "That isn't your business," he shot back.

The cyborg's eyes fixed on his hand, and he took a step back. "Don't--" he said softly.

"I'm just looking for someone."

The man's face fell, as if Seifer had informed him that the world was ending. "You should leave here," he said. "Now."

Seifer's hand tightened visibly on the hilt of his weapon. "Was that a threat?" he demanded.

"Stop!" The cyborg's voice was charged with urgency. "If you draw, I'll kill you--"

Seifer wasn't the kind of person who would take threats or orders from rank-and-file soldiers. In one smooth motion, he drew Hyperion from its sheath and swept into a ready position.

The cyborg flinched, hands going up to his face. He staggered, swaying abruptly to one side. In the next instant he had snapped into an attack stance, eyes fixed on his opponent. There was no expression on his face.

Damn robot, Seifer though. He's programmed to attack, so he'll attack. Shouldn't be too hard--cyborgs can't rise above the level of their programs.

The cyborg sidled, gait even and mechanical. Seifer charged preemptively, fencing in with the sword. Cyborgs were quick, but they couldn't improvise--their predictability was their greatest weakness.

The cyborg deflected the blow with the back of his forearm armor, sliding in under Seifer's guard. Textbook, he thought, executing a neat spin to bring Hyperion into the cyborg's neck--

--GAH!

A blinding pain lanced up his left side, and the spin ended in a painful half-stumble. One of the cyborg's hands had latched onto his flesh just above his left hip, and the rigid gloves were very quickly digging their way through his vest.

Seifer twisted, taking a few undignified swats at the cyborg with his gunblade. Each one was deflected--easily, mechanically. A fumbled parry, and the cyborg knocked Hyperion away--it went spinning off into the rain, leaving Seifer disarmed.

I don't believe this, ran through his mind. I'm getting beat by a soldier.

The cyborg's free hand made a pass at his face, and he grabbed his opponent's wrist and held on tight. One hand engaged, the cyborg let of of his side to take a more crippling strike--

In an instant Seifer let go of him, breaking off and making a dash for his weapon. The cyborg interposed himself between Seifer and his objective, and he backed off again. "Nida!"

The cyborg charged, and Seifer twisted away--almost not fast enough. His enemy seized his collar, yanking back on his coat. Without regard for dignity or comfort Seifer slipped out of the coat, hitting the ground and rolling. Everything depended on not letting the cyborg get a grip on him.

For the love of Hyne-- "...NIDA!!" He had never thought he would be in a position when he honestly felt he had to call for help.

Closing the distance again, the cyborg let go of his trenchcoat. Seifer snaked a hand out, catching the trailing hem and pulling over and upward. The coat was heavy with rain and mud--it slapped the cyborg hard across his face, blinding him for a few crucial moments.

The pain in his side was excruciating, but Seifer disregarded it--he scrambled to his feet, rushing past the cyborg and picking up Hyperion. As soon as he turned to join the battle again, the cyborg was charging--it was sheer instinct that allowed him to dodge and strike a heavy blow to his enemy's torso. The armor cracked, revealing wires and components--and also, flesh and blood.

With an unhealthy jerk, the cyborg spun to follow his movements. Both hands closed around Hyperion's blade, twisting it in an attempt to wrest it from Seifer's grasp.

Seifer pulled backward, sliding the gunblade out of the cyborg's hands. Leaning all his weight into the swing, he aimed for a head shot--

The cyborg reacted quickly, catching the blow on the inside of his arm. Slipping in under his guard again, he tried once again to grapple--

A Flare erupted in the sky above them, shockwave pushing them both into the ground and light dazzling them. At the angle Seifer landed, he could see Nida at the top of one of the nearby hills, sword drawn, sprinting to join the fray.

It was a moment of distraction that the cyborg didn't waste.

How he regained his footing so quickly was a tribute to Estharan technology. Seifer hardly had time to try to roll away before a ferocious heel drop slammed into his ribcage with all the force to crush bone. His entire torso screamed with pain as he tried to get away, get up, continue the fight--

"CEASE," roared a very familiar voice.

Everyone stopped.

The cyborg's head snapped up, registering some new threat. Nida ground to a halt halfway down the hill, and Seifer pulled back and tried not to make any sudden movements. He was well aware that something was broken--all he needed to do was count how many ribs.

And Fujin stood at the crest of one of the hills, distance making her dark form seem like an extension of the rain.

"CEASE," she commanded again, eye fixed on the cyborg. "THREAT; DISREGARD."

The cyborg jerked back, half-turning to face her while the other half still seemed intent on pummeling Seifer. His arms flailed, and he stumbled.

Fujin advanced, hands out at her sides and open. Her shuriken remained securely on her back, untouched.

"DISREGARD," she commanded again.

The cyborg spasmed once, both hands going up to his face. "...disregard," he muttered, nigh-inaudible in the force of the downpour. "Directive. Disregard threat."

The line of the hill valley made a kind of rain-choked amphitheatre as the strange scene unfolded. All attention turned to Fujin as she continued down the hill, secrets and purpose written in every motion.

"TAIGA C1128513," she stated, enunciating with judicial force. She stopped advancing as she drew up to him, scarce a metre away. "TAIGA," she repeated.

He was shaking, and almost flinched back--but something caught him. His brow furrowed as he peered at her, as if scouring her face for traces of something past remembrance. "A--" he whispered. "Anyev...?"

Fujin's head bowed, and her knees buckled. The reality of so many days' toll made itself apparent--in one crushing blow, all the weariness of the road laid itself squarely on her. Exhaustion toppled her forward, sending her crashing into the cyborg and pulling them both to the ground as he tried to catch her.

When she didn't yell, Fujin's voice was very soft. So it was likely that only Taiga heard what she said into the hard composite of his breastplate; the one word which, whispered, rang so clearly in his ears that all else--rain, ICI, and erstwhile opponents--seemed simply to cease to be.

"Father."