**Note: Apparently I lied about my update schedule. Now this will probably be the last chapter before May ... **
Dust
Fujin never did like doing something on principal, because holding fast to something on principal was usually a losing proposition. What was the point of wasting your energy and digging your heels in on something just to dig your heels in? Usually what was referenced was pride, or the right thing to do—the things that people who lived by principal thought sacred enough to defend at all costs. But pride belonged to Seifer, and the right thing to do belonged to Raijin. As for Fujin … well, she had a moral code that she followed, but it was a flexible one that bent to suit her needs.
She credited her SeeD training for that moral flexibility. Garden wanted them all to turn a blind eye to the ugly realities of making a living as mercenaries; to switch their humanity off when necessary to get the job done. It sounded cruel, but it was useful when it came to missions more serious than wrangling monsters or aiding in political disputes. A SeeD's body count added up over the years; if you killed on the field, and couldn't remain ambiguous about the merit of it, you'd go crazy.
Fujin learned that hard lesson almost a year ago when she went on a routine training mission to Centra and wound up killing a man—the first and only one she'd killed so far. There was nothing extraordinary about the job. Balamb was hired by a small village to reign in a roving band of robbers who'd committed a variety of petty crimes along the southern edge of the continent. It wasn't supposed to be dangerous; it had been deemed safe enough for students to support and observe and for the most part, the mission went according to plan. SeeD had the rouges surrounded and were reading the criminals their rights in record time; they were to be transported to D-District Prison immediately to await trial. Justice—or at least one small town's purchased justice—was served.
Fujin stood off to the side with a few classmates and looked on as the scene unfolded, adrenaline rushing through her veins and her heart drumming in her ears, when her well-trained eye spotted movement in a thicket a little more than 20 feet away. It was a young sniper, edging slowly from behind the trunk of a tree, with his gun trained on one of the occupied SeeD instructors. Her eye darted to her classmates, and then to the SeeD team again when she realized that no one else saw it coming.
Releasing her shuriken was second nature, like gasping for air when surfacing through the water's skin, or squinting your eyes under the light of the burning sun. The desire to survive drove the weapon from her hands, and it sliced through the air towards the man who also didn't see it coming.
The sound that rang out when the familiar metal reached his flesh was unnatural and made her stomach churn. The weapon returned to her shaking hand within seconds—stained with blood, its violent job complete—and the man's body slipped to the ground in a falling stack. How casually the seasoned SeeD in the sniper's sights regarded it, only quirking an eyebrow and muttering a muffled 'nice save, rookie,' before getting back to the task at hand.
Fujin gawked at the husk the man left behind in awe, in the truest sense of the word. How easy it had been to take a life. Her young classmates, on the other hand, weren't prepared for death that day—the sounds of vomiting arose on either side of her.
Adrenaline was truly the only thing that kept her from emptying her stomach too—an uncool thing to do in front of the higher level SeeD who were making early bets on which upcoming students were the best and brightest. They pegged Fujin a star that day, and when they finished booking the criminals at D-District and ushering 'the kids' off to bed in Galbadia later that night, they invited Fujin out for one drink in the hotel bar to thank her … and to settle her nerves. In hindsight, she figured they understood the emotions of a first kill all too well.
But even after the drink Fujin was unable to sleep. She pictured that stack of flesh crumpling in pile on the ground over and over again; the sound of the slice echoed in her ears and the warm coat of blood on metal felt like it was still touching her hand. She wondered what his name was … why he chose to live the life of a criminal … if there'd been another way.
Looking haggard in the morning and feeling uneasy in her own skin, Fujin's guilt only seemed to grow. Her classmates continued to congratulate her awkwardly as they readied for the trip home. For killing a man. For snuffing out a soul. She wanted them all to shut up. She wanted to scream. She wanted to be back at Garden … she wanted to see Seifer.
The instructor whose life she'd saved must've noticed she was unnerved. He approached her in the hotel lobby before they departed, placing his hand on her shoulder and drawing her away from the others. I don't know if I've properly thanked you. So… thanks. He squeezed her shoulder, and leaned in close to her to whisper. Don't carry it with you, okay? In the end, it's either you or them in the dirt, Sanada. We've all gotta return to the dust sometime … and it's more than okay to fight when it's not your time.
We've all gotta return to the dust sometime … His words echoed in her head all the way back to Garden, and as she instinctually sought out Seifer and Raijin the second they arrived on Balamb soil. As her feet carried her down the familiar corridors that now seemed foreign and forever changed, Fujin saw nothing but fine clusters of dust spinning through the rays of afternoon sunlight.
She stumbled into the Disciplinary Office, bedraggled and blinking and reeling from the revelation that this is what it meant to be in SeeD—to be a jury, judge and executioner in an instant. Her friends were alarmed when she burst into the room. A rubber ball Raijin was bouncing against the wall froze in his grip, and Seifer sprang to his feet with his brow already furrowed. He hadn't expected her to be gone for the night, and according to Raijin's retelling of the events later that day, the blond had gone up one side of Xu and down the other to find out where the fuck Fujin was. Seifer started to scold her for not finding a way to get in touch with him. Shit, where the hell have you been? I …. well, Raijin and I, we were worried—but he bit his tongue when he realized that she was lost in thought. She hadn't really arrived back home yet.
I killed a man yesterday. She whispered, ignoring his chastising, her hand fluttering to touch her throat to feel the vibration of the words; to make sure they were real. On the mission I … I killed him.
Raijin inhaled sharply and canted forward in his chair, readying to stand. But he stifled his movements as Seifer passed by him in a blur and descended on Fujin, gathering her up in his arms without hesitation. She was the first in their trio to take a life—to this day, Seifer and Raijin still hadn't—and it was the first time he'd ever held her like that.
That's … okay, Fuu. That's a good thing. Seifer reasoned, his hold on her tight as he gripped the back of her head and pressed it against his chest. It was probably him or you, right?
I'm not sure. The words escaped in a gasp, and she tried to shake her head but his hand kept her still.
Then you did the right thing. You were being safe. Seifer nodded at his own statement. He pushed her away from him and gripped her shoulders, bending down to look her in the eyes. You always be safe—got it?
Raijin nodded in agreement, and Seifer helped her to an empty chair so she could sit down as she recounted the tale—the awful sound, the vision of slumping flesh, the students retching on either side of her—all of it. Raijin turned green at the description, but if Seifer couldn't stomach it he didn't let on. He just listened to her, his arm firmly staying put around her shoulders, offering continued silent approval of the judgment she passed down. His approval made everything a little better …
It would be a lie to say she didn't still struggle silently with the horror for a while after that—the thief's visage haunted her dreams like as a ghost still clinging to life, deigning her a criminal. But the instructor thanked her and praised her, and Seifer … he was glad to see her come back to him, glad that she was safe. Could she really have done the wrong thing? Could it really have been done any differently? The answer had to be no, to live with what she'd done and would do again and again. It had to be no for her to believe that she was still a good person, and that Seifer was a good person for valuing her life more than a stranger's.
So yes, killing a man for the first time taught her to be flexible about what was right and what was wrong … to seek out those foggy areas where your own self-image couldn't be reflected back at you. Doing a thing 'on principal' was foreign to Fujin now, because it inherently felt like it needed to come with a clear point of view of what was right and what was wrong … and she didn't have the luxury of that any more.
Why in Hyne's name she felt the the need to dig her heels in on being mad at Seifer for making a choice about their mission—about Rinoa—that actually made her happy and should relieve some of her stress … she couldn't be sure. Fujin supposed it was the personal nature of it; the repeated offenses, the fact that he refused to listen to her and that he made such drastic, mission-altering choices without consulting her. And the fact that at some point she'd need to explain it to Cid and cover Seifer's ass when the headmaster was inevitably furious they'd placed all their eggs in the basket of a flighty girl in exchange for Balamb's assistance in a possible revolution. Against Galbadia, which essentially meant against Galbadia Garden. Just those small things.
On principal, aside from general pleasantries, she'd been refusing to talk to him for two days straight. She enlisted Raijin to help her rearrange the furniture in the room—moving the beds paramount—and tasked the bronze member of their party with every mission-related initiative she could. She made copious notes, and added them to a stack of papers singing Rajin's praises that would be added to his permanent file; it would bolster his SeeD rank when the mission was complete. Her reports included ridiculous things that genuinely held no merit, like taking the initiative to retrieve sustenance for the team or keeping the quarters clean. Seifer's file, on the other hand, remained empty of additional praises on principal. She left each of their folders in plain sight on the table they shared for meals at least two times a day. She wasn't fucking around.
Sure, Seifer apologized for doing it, but he was unapologetic about the repercussions altogether. He came back from that afternoon excursion with Rinoa (whom they'd all for some reason started calling The Duchess as a code name … probably because saying her actual name was too hard for Fujin to swallow) and laid his new plan out calmly, all while daring to look her squarely in the eyes. He couldn't even manage being humble about it.
Fujin exploded. FOOLISH, she'd barked accidentally—her inner Balamb Garden beast taking over for a brief moment. You linked our very serious, multi-government spanning mission to a possible coup against one of our most powerful allies? Are you insane? He waved his hand at her, as if he expected this reaction.
Calm down, it won't happen. He casually pulled up a chair next to Raijin at the table, who's gaze was darting between the two of them nervously. I have more control over The Duchess than we'd ever have over Caraway. This puts us in an even better position—she'll be pining away for me, and I'll get her to give us everything she has on Deling, Caraway, the sorceress, and get us in the inner circle for that dinner.
Well, I'm glad you're so confident. She paced around the room, folding her hands behind her back and growing angrier by the minute. I wonder if you'd be so sure if you had explain all of this to Headmaster Cid.
I don't care. I'll call him. I'd be more than happy to talk to that prick right now. Gimme the phone. He bristled at her tone, but refrained from engaging on an adversarial level too deeply.
How do you think that would make me look? She spun around and glared at him. To let you call and talk to him. What does that say about me, as the commander of this operation?
It says you're not the stupid one who made this mistake. He shrugged and cracked his knuckles, his tone starting to sound more like a question the angrier she got, and surprisingly less confident. It places the blame on me.
No, she'd laughed in disbelief at his simplistic assessment. It says I don't have control of my own operation. It says I'm letting you run me. Cid knows about us thanks to you, and he'll think I'm letting you compromise my judgment.
Well, your judgment is compromised! It was compromised before we even got here. Seifer stood up then, insulted by the accusation that he'd revealed something private about them that he shouldn't have.
How so? She asked through a calm anger—his outburst enraging her to the point where she froze up; his sharp words hinting at the truth of their dynamic on this mission that neither of them wanted to voice. All she could do was glare at him with her fists clenched.
Maybe I should go out for a while, ya know? Raijin, sensing that the conversation was taking a personal turn, stood up and tried to excuse himself.
Yeah, probably not a bad idea. Seifer groaned and rubbed the back of his neck, irritated that Raijin was still there to begin with.
NEGATIVE. Fujin ordered. STAY. SIT DOWN. She'd be damned if Seifer was going to control one more thing.
Fine, have it your way. Seifer scoffed, irritated with what he perceived as a retaliatory lack of respect for privacy—and he was right; she was being intentionally petty. Cid made the system Fuu; he knows how each individual cog works. You think he doesn't understand that you're not thinking clearly? With everything that's going on with you?
Well, you letting it slip that we're together in front of him didn't help our position any. Fujin countered.
What was I supposed to do? Who would've stood up for you? 'Cuz you sure as hell weren't saying anything—you could barely keep your shit together that day. I thought I was doing you a favor.
Seif—Raijin warned, but Seifer cut him off mid-sentence and continued on, leaning cooly against the wall behind him as he readied another callous remark.
Trust me Fuu, of all the things Cid could pick from that could be clouding your judgement, I think me fucking your brains out rates pretty low on the list.
Hey man, that's outta line. Raijin interjected, uncomfortable with the vulgar delivery.
Shut the fuck up Raijin—nobody asked you. Seifer spat, turning his wrath toward their bronze friend now. This has nothing to do with you, no matter how much you want it to.
Now that loaded comment sent a silence over the group—the vaguely public reveal of a very private topic wounding their friend in a deep way. Raijin was instantly embarrassed, and Fujin felt instantly guilty. Seifer was getting out of hand—he was lashing out at the wrong person, and she was responsible for it.
You're right Raijin. Why don't you go for a walk? Fujin kept her eyes fixed on Seifer as she offered her friend some reprieve from further embarrassment.
Yeah … okay… lemme get outta your hair. The two of them stared each other down as Raijin moved around them to gather a few things. He stopped in front of Fujin before heading to the door. Ya good? Seifer seethed silently at the protective gesture.
I'm good, Raij. I'll see you later. He left with her assurance, and without addressing Seifer.
You sure you're 'good'? We could bring him back in if you don't feel safe. Seifer muttered under his breath.
Let it alone. Fujin countered, groaning at Seifer's continued jealousy—he really was a literal and figurative green-eyed monster. You can't bring that up all the time.
Well shit, can't I say anything anymore? He grumbled as he fished around in his coat pocket, pulling out a brand new pack of cigarettes and a lighter—she didn't realize he was smoking again. He'd stopped quietly last year after she'd observed it was a bad habit. Her disapproving look caught his eye and he groaned again and animatedly shoved the pack back in his pocket. Fuck me—I didn't realize you leading this mission meant you got to control everything I do.
Is that really what you think? That I'm trying to control you? Fujin asked him, bewildered. Seifer shook his head, rubbed his chin, and sighed—his gaze shifting to the floor.
No, I don't. Let's just cool down here. I'm ... saying things I don't mean.
More like accidentally saying things that you really do mean. Fujin asserted, and Seifer sighed again at that.
Listen, didn't mean 'compromised' as an insult … I'm compromised too. He looked up at her again, his green eyes silently pleading for this fight to be over—for her to just forgive him and get on with it, like she always did. We just had this really great morning … but, you were still struggling. I promised I would do anything I could to make things better. This was my solution.
How about doing something normal? She exhaled, covering her face and talking through her hands—she needed them there to stop herself from screaming. Don't co-opt my mission.
I thought I was making it easier on you.
I know you don't expect me to believe that, Fujin snapped. And for the record, I don't need you to make things easier. I need you to listen to me. And more importantly, I don't need you here right now. I have to think about what I'm going to tell Cid. Fujin marched to the door and opened it, motioning for him to leave.
C'mon. I was trying to help.
I'll be sure to let Cid know that. Right after I tell him he should've known this would happen anyway because, as you so aptly put it, he knows you've been fucking my brains out and I can't manage a single coherent thought.
I didn't mean it that way. Seifer took a step towards her and reached for her elbow, but she pulled her arm away. The swift movement and the active gesture of her kicking him out made him panic.
You're not … ending this, are you? His eyes flickered to the open door and then to her face again.
Of all the things to say right now. Fujin laughed in disbelief again and shook her head. Just get out, Seifer.
Fujin? He clenched his jaw and waited for an answer, anxiously cracking his knuckles when her previous non-answer didn't assuage his fear. … If you're ending this, there's no way I'm walking out that door without a fight
Of course I'm not. She felt a little guilty for asking him to leave—that panicked look burrowed into the soft spot she had for him. But she steeled her nerves and pushed forward. I just … can't look at you right now.
Seifer bit his cheek and nodded his head a few times before squaring his shoulders and walking towards the open door—following the directive of her outstretched hand. He leaned in close to her as he passed by.
I'm sorry this got outta hand. That's not what I wanted. He whispered against her cheek before placing a brief kiss there. When you're ready to talk, let me know.
And that was how they left it. This morning marked the start of a third day of silence, and the tension had them all walking on eggshells.
Fujin could tell that poor Raijin didn't know what to do with himself when they were at odds like this. He moved on from Seifer's insulting words quickly, just to try to find a way to keep the peace, never even asking for an apology…not even expecting one. He aligned himself with Fujin for the most part, but not so much that it would aggravate Seifer—after all, he couldn't be too sympathetic without risking getting clocked by a golden hand. But Fujin observed that Seifer's nerves seemed pretty frayed—he didn't like her silent treatment very much, and was on his best behavior to make it end as soon as possible. Perhaps Raijin was safe … for the time being.
This morning, just like yesterday and the day before that, Seifer crawled out of bed an hour before he and Raijin usually woke up, and snuck up behind her at the table as she read the local newspaper over coffee. He placed his hand on the crook of her neck timidly and whispered good morning, before kissing the top of her head and her cheek, and then waiting—just for a few seconds—to see if she had anything new to say. He brushed his thumb against her skin in hopes that it would coax words out of her, but she didn't break—her hand was on a pen this morning, writing fresh notes about their mission and about the fine work Raijin was doing. Seifer reached over her to grab her cup for a refill, and sighed as he walked away.
On principal, as she watched him move to fetch coffee from the brewer kept on bathroom counter, Fujin fully planned to let the day continue on just like the past two days had. With Seifer silently vying to get back in her good graces, his face falling a little each time she delegated something to Raijin and each time she rewarded their bronze friend's work with another commendation in his file. It took Seifer's ego down a few pegs, and she was certain the punishment fit the crime.
Fujin proudly flipped the paper over when it was full, ready to continue writing whatever nonsense she could just to get under Seifer's skin a little more. The motion of the turning page created a small gust of air, sending a tiny tornado of dust into the faint rays of morning sunlight that were sneaking past the edges of the shades they'd drawn.
In that moment, Fujin thought of the man she killed and about returning to dust someday. What multitudes did that one tornado contain? How many enemies? How many lovers? Her eyes followed it until it dissipated in the shadows.
And that's when the image of Seifer in the bathroom mirror captured her—the angle she was sitting at just right to watch him unnoticed. His hands were twisted backwards, his palms gripping the counter, and his head hung low. He tilted his chin up to look at himself, and his chest heaved with a burdensome sigh before he reached over to gab the coffee cup and refill it, his fingers brushing over the stain her lips had left on the cup's edge. Seifer had such command over everything; for so many years, Fujin was sure the sun rose and set on him, or that he may very well be a single point in the universe that pulled in all the stars. But there he stood, when he thought no one was watching, examining his own shortcomings and looking sad, worried, and sorry. And for the first time, Fujin realized it was her that did that to him—that she was the one who made the center of the universe question himself.
So what did any of this matter, if the universe was hers? They would all be dust someday, anyway.
Seifer startled when she appeared in the doorway. She'd been holding out so well ... but she just couldn't bear to see him sad. His eyebrows raised high and then fell again when she looked into his eyes; it was the first time she'd done that since they'd fought.
"Hey, " he whispered, glad to see her approach him. He reached for her wrist with one hand and pulled her into the bathroom, as he closed the door behind her with the other. "Are we …. gonna make it through this? I'll say sorry a million times if that's what you want—"
"Stop. Don't say anything else about it." Anything he could possibly say would just rub her the wrong way right now. Seifer thought he did the right thing, and Fujin knew he did the wrong thing—they were at an impasse … and they were wasting time. "We'll make it through everything."
"I've missed you." He complied with her request to drop the topic and put his hand on her waist. "I don't want to fight with you."
"Then don't fight me." She echoed the words he'd whispered to her in Dollet, as he comforted her on that terrible night that they laid together and struggled to make sense of what was happening between them. She regretted missing out on that that time with him already … and right now, with everything that laid before them, it felt pointless to keep punishing Seifer on principal when what he'd done actually made her happy. She didn't want to waste another minute.
Seifer decoded the silence that followed, and reached behind her to lock the bathroom door. He kissed her, removed her clothes, and lifted her on the counter—grateful to accept the tender amends she allowed him; skin gliding over skin, shedding traces of themselves with the remnants of others who came before them. With the way he kept his eyes on her, Fujin was pretty sure these past couple of days had scared Seifer into thinking he might not get the chance again.