A/N: Another chapter? so soon?
The inside of the tiny castle was much as Squall remembered it. The hallways were tight and favored sharp right turns where possible. A defensive design decision to give the right handed a combative advantage fighting at the corners. He walked through with the surety of long practice headed immediately for the office and study that he already knew he would find Caraway in, walking past a series of portraits of Fury and his late wife Julia.
There was one where Rinoa as a young girl was sitting in her mother's lap. Oil on canvas, the fine brush strokes were the work of a master painter. The subtle color of the pigments captured a certain furious energy. It was taking all of young-Rinoa's energy to sit still for the portrait. Her father couldn't but seem to be holding back laughter. The artist captured the twinkling laughter in Julia's eyes as well. It was such an innocent image of someone who would have such a life. It was strange to see Fury looking happy. Maybe he was just reading into it. Overthinking and projecting into a painting. Fujin leaned in front of him, breaking his reverie making him realize he had stopped to stare at the painting. She turned around and considered it a few moments.
"RINOA?" she asked in a restrained voice. Squall nodded just slightly. Fujin nodded slightly in understanding and stepped aside. A few moments more passed before Squall continued on to the study, stopping in front of the finely made Timber hardwood door. Something that Rinoa had brought special emphasis to when she and her father inevitably argued. Before the sound had even faded there was a muffled voice from within.
"Enter." and so Squall did, leading the two of them in a reversal of the normal beneath this endless gloom. Fujin stood at his shoulder not even a step behind. His eyes went straight to Fury who sat behind the desk at the center of the room pen in hand. Fujin took in the room, he could hear her head turn in the near silence of the room.
"Fury." Squall said as he stood in the middle of the room, the older man took a moment then looked up. His eyes slid from Squall to Fujin and back. There was a long moment of calculation, his dark eyes holding somewhere near Squall's shoulder. A long calculation.
"Squall." he said there was something in both their greetings, a kind of pain.
"I expected you tomorrow, it's already after midnight." Fury's chiding was without teeth and without malice. A tired observation, they both knew Squall wouldn't wait. He never did.
"Morning doesn't mean anything in this city." Squall answered. Fury audibly sighed, for only a moment his thick outer shell dropped as he looked toward the metal-latticed window, beside it a small metal rack holding three photographs. Two of Julia and one of Rinoa. She wasn't looking at the camera, but she was smiling.
"The sun never quite seems to rise, no." Fury conceded, he shuffled the papers on his desk, strewn with them in many unsquared piles.
"My command is taking me out to the edges of the desert to inspect the facilities. There are whispers that I am a target, or rather, my convoy will be. And I think that it's a much more… credible threat than the most heavily fortified art gallery in Galbadia." Fury said his derision slipping out a moment.
"Inside knowledge?" Squall asked and Fury looked back at the window.
"A strong indication I'll say no more. Twenty thousand. And this." Squall said, reaching to the side of his desk and opening the lower drawer, he fingered through it out of sight and Squall could feel Fujin stiffen beside him. He reached out a hand and brushed against hers. He heard her let out a breath nearly silently. Her palms were sweaty. He wondered why his weren't.
A moment later Fury pulled up a folding file and flipped it open. Inside was a grainy photo. Squall stepped up, Fujin a step behind. The photo was distant, a little grainy like it had been taken by a security camera at night. The figure in the image was unmistakable but for the strange white streaks at his back.
Blonde hair slicked back against his head, long coat flared out as if in motion. One handed blade in hand.
"Seifer Almasy." Squall said, dismissively.
"Nobody had seen him in years." Fury said and Squall stilled.
"You mean to say…?" Squall started, Fujin audibly gasped.
"DEAD!" Fujin interrupted, starting both the men in the room. Her eye was wide, filled with accusatory anger.
"Not as of two weeks ago, it seems." Fury answered regaining his composure quickly.
"Two weeks?" Squall asked in a whisper.
"IMPOSTER!" Fujin growled her hand slamming down on the desk, a small stack of papers near the edge slid off in the silence that followed.
"Be that as it may, this was taken at an outpost just east of the Rhem Archipelago. South of Wilburn. He appeared just after twenty two hundred. He attacked the outpost killed sixty percent of the personnelle and all the support platforms, as well as many of the support assets. He used a crystalline einhander gunblade. Survivors of the attack described the assailant possessing wings. Made of some kind of bright energy, or like an angel, the descriptions conflict somewhat." Squall looked back at Fujin as she picked up the photograph in both hands, holding it in hands that didn't shake, but her grip crinkled the paper just slightly. She stared at it with a mixture on her face of longing and fury roiling beneath a careful facade of calm, a riptide beneath the placid surface.
"You can keep that. Consider it a down payment." Fury said, closing the folding file and sliding it back away.
Fujin rubbed the image with her thumb, her eye sliding back to it as a kind of anger rose up in her. Bristling and hot. Someone was wearing her friend's face, or trying to. He'd paid for his crimes. It should have been the end.
"You should understand we're not officially working for Garden here." Squall chewed over that admission but it needed to be said before Fury blew their cover. He paused and looked from Squall to Fujin.
"Let me guess, trying to find the Geezard and the supposed renegades they've absorbed." Squall's eyes slid to the desk.
"We're also interested in other rogues. We were commissioned to eliminate a gang leader we found to be in possession of a Junction. She's dead. Braids, did her name come up for you?" Fury's eyes closed and his forefinger and thumb rubbed thoughtfully a moment.
"...Braids…? Falimah Coron, an associate of the suspected Geezard commander. All the training we put into that punk…" Caraway muttered. Squall's ears snapped up and his eyes narrowed.
"Wait, just as a garden graduate or…?" Fury's mouth twisted and he made a small grunting noise.
"The red Geezard brigade was originally a false flag operation to do a little… housecleaning. At least until the assets went AWOL. I wasn't in charge of it." He declared snubbing out his smoke vigorously.
"See how happy I am to get to say I told them so." Fury muttered, turning back to Squall and Fujin who studiously kept the former commander between herself and him.
"What could go wrong with arming a bunch of rebel fighters that seem inclined to oppose our opponents both home and abroad?" Fury's tone was flippant, but Squall could detect the undercurrent of anger.
"Regardless, I'd be leaving for the posts in eight days. Approach the west end depot with this conscription letter at oh five hundred. Alright?" Fury stated, taking a paper from this desk and quickly detailing it in neat cursive.
"Eight days from last morning or eight days from next morning?" This question caused Fury's hand to pause.
"...next morning. I need sleep." he said, planting four fingers on the paper and sliding it across the desk.
"Understood General." Fujin stepped up as Squall spoke and took the paper, primly folding it with sharp creases to tuck it in her breast pocket.
The trip out of the house was much swifter than the trip in. The information they had just learned mulling around. It explained some thing that Fujin had wondered about those months ago while working with them but for Squall datapoints were clicking together in his head in a troubling way. Especially if the Geezard-Braids connection was correct and Fury was remembering the right gang leader. It painted a troublingly picture of accelerationism into permanent upheaval.
Once they stepped back out onto the street Fujin reached out and tugged one of Squall's belt loops, pulling him from his thoughts.
"SLEEP." She said, giving him an appraising look. He sighed and nodded to her as they started to head back to their flat. Catching one of the buses most of the way there and heading the other way past a lot of workers heading in for their 'morning' shift. The rain had finally let up and they stepped into the flat and promptly began to get ready for sleep.
Fujin found herself in loose fitting clothes and rather than just crawling into bed she found herself sitting on the arm of the couch, elbows on knees. Her mind running over and over the picture currently on the table by the phone. Seifer. She'd not thought about him much since arriving back in Deling. She hadn't had to, but now he was on her mind again. And she could tell that he was on Squall's too the way he was leaning his shoulder against the empty refrigerator arms crossed. They had come straight back to hopefully get some sleep, but with no mission and no occupation for a week there was no reason or need to rush. Really they had all the time in the world. She felt tired, sure but that was only in the back of her mind. If it was Seifer, if it was really him, then she'd left him to die and he had saved himself… or someone else had saved him. Her heart hammered in her chest at the thought. He'd be so angry. He'd be right to hate her. She found once she'd had that thought a lump formed in her throat that she couldn't swallow and could barely breathe around. What if the first friend she'd had hated her guts and it was her fault?
She didn't realize how long she'd been staring into the void until she started badly when Squall's hand slid onto her shoulder. Her head looked up at him and met his gaze and saw a kind of stern coldness there. For a moment her heart stopped fearing it was directed at her, her jaw clenching tight. Then he sat down on the couch right behind her. Wrapped his arms around her middle and gently pulled her down into his lap. Whatever darkness lurked in his mind, it wasn't directed at her, and that was enough. She leaned her shoulder into him, her arms trapped under his. She found she could take a breath again and filled her lungs to capacity. It was a few minutes, or maybe a few hours before he moved. Unwrapping one arm from around her and sliding them under her legs to pick her up which she immediately slithered out of to land on her feet. Spinning to give him a vicious glare only to meet his eyes shining with laughter. She looked away but her mouth quirked into a little smile.
"Fine I wo~" Squall started speaking only for Fujin to step in plant her shoulder against his waist and hoist him over her shoulder with a cackle before quickstepping toward the bedroom while Squall broke out in incredulous laughter as he was unceremoniously tossed on the bed.
"Okay fine, turnabout is fair play." He said after the chuckles subsided. Fujin planted her hands on her waist triumphantly for a moment before crawling up into the bed beside him where he welcomed her with an outstretched arm. Moments later with the covers pulled up, she planted her cheek firmly on his chest and drew up against him as his arm held her close. His other hand reaching over to gently run through her hair, she found it very easy to close her eyes.
The next day was quiet, the two of them prowled the streets, there was a little discussion about going to a club, but then they really considered if they wanted to be around that many other people right at this moment. The eventual decision was no, a soft no, a no that included a maybe. No all the same though. So they walked. Fujin had acquired an umbrella from a shop. Squall held it for her as she walked hands in pockets. Fingering the little balisong she had acquired. Gunblades were a wonderful tool of war. But sometimes, and increasingly more lately, a more discrete tool was more useful. So a butterfly blade, something she could flip out at a moment's notice. Well, if one were good with it, she was fiddling with it, and hard largely succeeded in whacking her own knuckles with the blade far more than she successfully whipped it open. Squall tried not to laugh at her frustration. All in all it was shaping up to be a positive day. Strolling aimlessly was a seldom indulged pastime; there was always something happening in Deling, whether a local scuffle, someone playing music on a corner, even a wild eyed prophet preaching the end of times. There were also many shops with workers sitting out front barking at passers by. One of them caught Squall's attention, by barring his path with a wooden cane.
"You, boy. You look like you've had a lot in your life." The voice was a little old man sitting in a wheelchair, why he had a cane was a mystery but the umbrella nestled against him obstructed his face.
"A lot of what, old timer?" Squall asked, deciding in the moment to indulge the distraction. Fujin leaned down a little to see the man's face and scrunched up a bit. Squall hooked his thumb around the can and gently pushed it away.
"Everything, if I had to guess. And yet the only mark on ya is that one on your face. Must have meant a lot to you, to keep it." The old man said conversationally, but this led Squall to lean down a little to have a look at the man that had so captured Fujin's attention. He was old, wrinkled in the extreme and the blotches on his skin resolved into images painted across his face and down his neck, his thin hand bore yet more ink. Squall glanced up at the store the old man was sitting in front of, a body shop. Tattoo parlor, piercing studio, presumably more as well.
"Let's say yes." Squall answered after a beat. Fujin took a half step around in front of the old man, out of the sidewalk where there was more room to pass them. The old man lowered his cane to rest between his feet.
"Step inside my boy, I have something I would like to talk with you about." the old man said motioning with his hand inside. Squall looked at Fujin who looked back at him with her eyebrows raised, well he couldn't fault her interest. He was a little curious himself, and it wasn't as though they had anywhere to be.
The inside of the shop wasclean, but close and relatively dark. The walls were hung with images, photos of people in various states of dress displaying works of art. The things he saw here were shocking, blasphemous beside the sacred, bright and sombre, the beatific and the macabre. Fujin was captivated, not only by the ink, but the steel, people displaying elaborate works of steel, from things relatively mundane, noses and ears and brows. Among them lurked the elaborate and painful looking displays, linked piercings with chains, rings tied with ribbon along a back. Spacers through cheeks to show the teeth beneath. Tongues split down the center, eyes painted black or blue. It was awful, in that it filled one with awe and trepidation all at once.
"Wow." was the only thing Squall could think to say. The old man he had wheeled in gently rolled his way around a very low desk.
"People have many means to express themselves. Their clothing, their manner, their creed. The body is a canvas of the soul." The old man said, pulling a fine drawing pad with just off white paper and lay it carefully on the desk. He retrieved a small leather case filled with a long assortment of pigment pencils.
"For some people they wish to remember something, others to distract their eyes and minds. Some want to announce their souls, others to hide behind something. Some wish to illuminate what they see in the mirror, others to draw their eyes from things they wish to forget when they peer at their silvered glass. There are many many reasons why. But I think everyone has a reason, if they truly ask themselves." The old man said lifting his eyes to look at Squall who looked back at him only after looking around himself again.
"Here, give me your hand, boy." the old man said reaching out and becoming with four fingers. Squall, lacking a reason not to listen to what the man had to say, extended his left hand.
"Left handed, eh?" the old man asked and Squall considered a moment.
"For some things." Squall answered, the old man's head bobbed.
"Very interesting, just started smoking…." The old man's hands were soft, turning over Squall's hand with careful attention, sliding up to touch his wrist.
"These work marks, or fight marks?" The old man said touching the callouses on Squall's hand.
"Fight." squall said, he'd spent almost a decade and half building them. His whole life to before he could remember.
"That's a lot of fighting, for one so young. An interesting ring, a lion? Are you a lion, my boy?" the man's voice was soft, questions were curious, not accusatory.
"...Maybe I was." Squall said, thinking back to the war, to the battle beyond time in the throat of dissolution. When he had lain eyes upon the creature he always imagined when he looked at his ring. When he'd killed it to save them all.
"A man then." The old man murmured. Was he though? He certainly had the responsibility of one, the people behind and around him that leaned upon him. But did that make him a man? It did, not because he was needed but because he rose to it. Squall's neck straightened slightly, looking past the man's hands to the man himself. Would this be him one day? Old and wizened, in a chair when his legs could no longer hold him up? Would he see that day? He had told Fujin he wanted to, but could he imagine himself so far in the future? Difficult questions.
"I guess I am." Squall answered despite not being asked. The Man let go of Squall's hand and he pulled it away from the artist who picked out a black pencil and started to slowly draw.
"Where were you headed today?" The old man's tone remained conversational. Squall looked to Fujin, and the old man's eyes followed. She looked out at the door and then away from them all.
"Nowhere in particular." Squall answered.
"Maybe your friend and you were looking for the right place to be." The old man suggested and Squall considered that.
"I think you might be right." Then Squall asked a question that sprung into his mind.
"Why did you want to feel my hand?" The old man chuckled.
"To get to know you. You can learn a lot about someone from their hands." The old man cryptically quipped, his eye twinkling as he glanced up into Squall's.
"What are you drawing?" watching something take shape, like a flame swirling in a windstorm.
"What do you see?" The old man asked moving his smudged hand away from the lines he'd been drawing.
"... it looks like a fire spout, when the wind catches a blaze." Squall speculated. The old man went back to drawing as Fujin took a few quiet steps over to peer over his shoulder at the drawing.
"So it is, so it is…" the old man's hand put away the balck and drew the blue pencil, the lines darkening and blending shadow into the sulphurous blue of the licking flames that took shape, not a trace of orange, a flame both hot and swift. Fujin made a small noise and he glanced at her.
"BLUE." she said simply. The old man paused as Squall looked down to the picture again.
"Sulphur turns a fire blue." the old man said and Squall frowned slightly.
"Why? I mean, why not orange?" the question hung for a moment as the old man considered, bringing a hand up to rub his shaven chin.
"You're a young man, until I get to the eyes." the artist said raising his hand to motion with a finger toward Squall's face.
'Sulphur's bitter, and old. The fire's blue, but the crystals are yellow. It's a bitter smell, and leaves a bitter flavor." the old man said resuming his drawing, a bare outline twisting in the flames. He changed to a yellow pencil to start lining.
"You're not a lion, but you were, or maybe will be." He drew claws, but the shape was subtly wrong, then the wings began.
"You didn't have anywhere to go today, you have all you need. Except maybe a little more freedom. Wings are strong, but lions don't have wings." The old man continued, drawing. Fujin's eye followed the drawing carefully.
"TRAUMA?" she asked and the old man paused.
"The Tarauma doesn't have wings, but a Gryphon? Nobility, Poise, a hunter, or perhaps Seeker might be the better word…" his hands gently traced the talons and the beak. The image took shape. A gryphon borne aloft on a swirl of sulphurous flames. Squall stared at the image. He remembered his own anger. Before the war when he stewed in his enforced loneliness. Then again as Rinoa came into her powers. Then again after she left him for parts unknown.
He didn't feel like a Lion. Not since the war. An eagle though? A creature that can soar away from this. Was that not what he had done? When he left Quistis as Commander and left on a mission with no end date, or hard objectives? Was this just a way of escaping the trap he had found himself in? He took a deep breath and his hand fished behind him until he felt Fujin's close around his and squeeze just slightly.
"How long have you been together?" The question took him off guard and he looked back at Fujin who looked startled to have been asked.
"Um…" She started and he tried to count, was it one day, or months? Since they admitted it or the first time they acted together.
"YESTERDAY?" She said though it was more of a question.
"I think it's been longer than that." he paused his drawing to let out a low chuckle. Squall felt himself color a little though Fujin remained stoically calm though he could feel her heart through her hand.
"There… what do you think, are we on to something?" The artist asked, turning the paper around carefully. Squall inspected the image carefully, the swooping lines, the surging flames. The gryphon escaping the bitter heat and pushing out to something new, beak closed but eyes to the sky beyond. If the Lion was his grief, perhaps the Eagle was his future.
"...Yes." Squall said his face flat even as his mind turned the image around and around. Fujin looked from the paper to the artist, then back to the paper and to Squall. Ultimately though she said nothing one way or the other.
It was a big decision though, if he accepted the idea and let this be inscribed on his body forever, would it last? Would he feel then what he felt now, that this was some sort of mark of change? Or would it just be a reminder of foolishness? Where would it even go? Somewhere he could see it every day? Somewhere he would only see it if he looked for it? Was it for him? Or should it be a message to others? It was a detailed piece, it would hurt to have it inscribed, did he want something so detailed on him? He earned scars, was he prepared to have this work destroyed if he took a hit poorly? Did it matter.
Deeper and deeper the questions piled, the old man carefully put the pencil away and folded up his drawing kit.
"Take your time, lad. You have time." he said in a conciliatory voice. Squall took a deep breath, his eyes still on the image. He would not have considered this a different day, but there was something on the wind. Something in his heart that resonated against this beast. Something he hadn't felt in an age.
"It's too much." Squall said softly, and the man smiled, his head bowed slightly.
"I see. Hm." he lifted the page and pulled free the black pencil again and began sketching. The shape was much quicker, much simpler. Just line-work of a Gryphon poised to the sky.
"More as you wish?" Squall looked back at Fujin who had a contemplative look on her face.
Fujin leaned away from Squall looking down at his body. The artist waited patiently for her assessment as she reached around took Squall by the shoulders and held him at arm's length. After a few beats she shook her head.
"COLOR." she said pursing her lips looking back at the piece. The artist made a contemplative noise then chuckled quietly.
Squall looked down at the image then at the skin of his arms.
"Yellow?" Squall asked and Fujin shook her head with a scrunched up face.
"Hm, Maybe something different." The artist started again, a pillar of blue flames with a Lion roaring from one side and an eagle's cry from the other. Fujin looked back at Squall with her eyebrows raised appraisingly as Squall stared down at it. The color was fine, the image stark.
"... I…" He started, then stopped. The old man reached out and patted him on the back of the hand.
"Here." He tore out the page and handed it to Squall.
"Come back tomorrow." He said softly. Squall took the image and carefully folded it, sticking it in his pocket.
"Right."
Squall sat at the small table they had in the apartment, staring at the more elaborate and simpler works both on the same page. Smoke hanging unlit from his lips. Fujin quietly tapping out a beat on a bucket. Quiet being a relative term, but her head bobbed along to the beat she rang out. She'd pause to adjust the placement of herself or the bucket she was sitting on.
"CONSIDER?" She suddenly asked, drawing Squall from his musings.
"I can't get it out of my head." He admitted twisting the ring on his finger with his thumb.
"WANT." she said and Squall smiled to himself.
"I guess I do, but it seems like you want something too. Ears? Maybe one through the nose." He teased and she huffed quietly, turning her face away from him. Though it took a long time for her to resume her drumming and her heart wasn't really in it. After a few moments something rebounded off of Squall's head, he maintained his junctions so it didn't do more than surprise him as the dowel clattered to the ground and Fujin glared at him from across the room. The crossness of her expression drew a deep laugh from him.
"Well if it wasn't before it is now. I think you'd look great with a little black piercing." he said tracing out a ring at his septum and she immediately flushed and turned away with a growl. He could tell her offense was largely feigned. But he'd gotten under her skin as she reached up and tugged gently at her nose.
The silence stretched for nearly an hour before Squall broke it.
"We're going back aren't we?" He asked and Fujin sighed before walking to start lacing up her boots.
Fujin hovered just by his ankle as he lay back in the chair, the old man and his assistant, a younger man carefully worked in the traditional tattoo method. Squall could almost find it soothing. There was pain, but it was minor. He had felt much worse and it was a little zen to watch the image take shape on the mirror over his head. His shirt was off, as they worked on his pectoral. The artist had advised the arm, but that wouldn't really do, he wanted to be able to conceal the mark if he needed to, so it had to be somewhere any shirt would cover. Also, some part of his mind wanted to see it every time he looked in the mirror after a shower.
He looked up at her with a piece of metal dangling from her nose, like the ring on a steer. A stud through each ear. She'd gone for silver, which almost vanished against her complexion. Still, it did look good on her.
Jokes about bullishness besides. His own ornamentation was a little more permanent, well, he supposed that she would always have the scars if she took them out, but it would be gone. He would bear the lion and eagle forever in one way or another. He breathed slowly as the needles pierced him again and again. It was nearing the end. The artist had informed him that it would be sore and he should probably do it in waves.
But Squall had simply told the truth, that he'd be leaving the city on a dangerous mission in six days, so it was either finish it or maybe never see it done. So here he was sitting for the third hour of delicate shading.
The artist's assistant gently wiped his skin clearing excess ink and the old man leaned away with a sigh as he settled back in his chair. Squall looked up at himself on the table, admiring the colored patch on his skin. An decision that would mark him for the rest of his life. Only here it was a visible mark. The assistant gently painted on a healing serum to his skin before he carefully applied a protective screen to the tattoo a nearly transparent film that clung oddly to his skin. As the man leaned away he was handing Squall a piece of paper with care instructions on it. Listening carefully, the last thing he wanted to do was damage himself, he had enough scars to not neglect the things he chose to decorate himself. As he gingerly slipped back on his top feeling it catch and drag on the film the mere act of moving his arm brought waves of soreness, tightness and not a little pain to him. He bore it stoically, keeping his attention on the instructions he was being given.
He wondered to himself as the young man walked away whether it would be possible to heal the tattoo solid or if it would push all the ink out of his body to try. He'd talk to Fujin about it later. She might actually have the skill to do it after all. He considered as they thanked the man for his work and got set to head outside with a small bundle of care materials.
As they stepped outside he caught Fujin sticking her tongue out to touch the little ring resting on her upper lip. When she caught him watching she pulled her tongue back and looked away with a huff. The huff made the ring move though and her hand shot up to touch it again. Squall laughed quietly and she gently back handed him in the stomach. Squall caught her hand and twinned their fingers. She looked back at him and after a heartbeat or two offered a little smile he reciprocated.
"Do you like them?" he asked her and by way of answer she brought her hand up and touched the stud in his ear running her fingers over it before bringing her hand back up to her own ear.
"CHOSE." She answered with a nod then looked back out to the street where the midday crowd walked the streets at varying speeds.
"You were staring so hard at the nipple piercings too, I'm surpris~" he had to quickly bat her hand away as she tried to grab his nipple through his shirt.
"NEITHER." She hissed at him and he laughingly batted her hand away.
"Sure we'll get them together if we end up back here." He said looking her in the eye. Even as he said it her eye flicked down to his chest even as the flush started creeping up her neck. He couldn't laugh too hard because he felt it starting on him too. She pulled her hand away from his and gave him a gentle push.
"MOVE." she insisted and he did, falling in behind her as she started walking. Knowing her she had simply picked a direction to start walking. Every step drew his attention again to his chest where the soreness and the feeling of something touching the tender flesh was distracting. And yet, he felt a kind of surety in it. His face settled into a blank mask, as it often did, but he couldn't keep a small up turn off his lips.
"Do you think you could shape this to heal faster, I feel like I want to spar." He asked from a step behind her and he waited as she considered.
"TRY." She said slowly, sounding somewhat unsure.
Squall walked a step behind letting her lead as she turned them down an alley stepping out of sight she took a breath, shook her hands out and laid a hand over his chest. The touch hurt, quite a bit really. Aside from a quiet sucking of air through his teeth he bore it quietly. He felt the magic from Fujin sweep over him. It brought no relief though and after a moment he realized it must have been a scan. He waited the burning in his skin a mild distraction, uncomfortable but bearable. After a moment he heard her take a deep breath, hold it and then the magic rose up. He could feel the sparking motes of life channeling into him as her eye squeezed shut, her head bowing slightly in concentration. Slowly the soreness bled away, then the tenderness faded somewhat. He could still acutely feel her hand pressing on his chest though even that dulled slightly. The spell ended and Fujin gasped for breath, taking a few deep breaths in the cold humid air pulling back her hand and flexing her fingers. Squall gingerly rolled his shoulder and tested the muscle finding it still slightly sore. He gently pulled away the material, finding it a bit too dark to see. Fujin quickly swept a hand into her belt and held up a pen light. He shifted to let the light look down and found that the Tattoo looked like it was intact. Still sharply clear, but without the mess of ink that a more careless regeneration would have netted him. He gave her a thumbs up that she returned, clicking off her flashlight and spinning it through her fingers before putting it away with a smug look.
"Thanks." He said a moment before the suckerpunch connected with her stomach and sent her stumbling back with a bark of strangled laughter. The fistfight was cathartic and the twinkling metal of her face matched the flashing of her eye as she came at him.
With a strangled scream and a feeling of rushing air Squall found himself in an uncommon situation of hurtling through the air upside down out of the alley where he had started their impromptu spar. A small moment of regret was immediately eclipsed by the realization that several someones were between him and the concrete of the walk.
A shout and a feminine scream rise up as Squall lands in a puddle splashing dirty water on the collected people as he winds up on his stomach in the swill. He looks up and meets the eyes of the well dressed couple surrounded by three guards with swords hooked to their hips. He let his head drop.
"That thing just ruined my dress." he heard the woman say, her words dripping with venom.
Fujin came running out of the alley. Her face a mask a calculation as one of the guards put his hand on the hilt of his sword. Squall forestalled her with a look and turned back to the couple.
"I'm sorry." Squall said loud enough to be heard and the woman grimaced.
"I'm sure you are." she said grabbing her well dressed companion's arm. The man looked down his nose at Squall who was still on the concrete but he rose to his feet slowly, brushing off his pants as the woman and her companion stepped back.
"Do you know how much this dress cost?" she pushed in as the three guards took a step apart, to create space to draw. Squall assessed the moment, if they drew, there would be no choice. At least three people would die over a dress. A piece of fabric and lace.
"I said I was sorry, can we just leave it at that?" he asked, a small note of hope.
"My Dre~" the woman started but Squall raised his head and looked her in the eye again, his face an impassive mask, not even looking at the guards. The woman's complaint caught in her throat. He was just so tired of these wealthy people and their petty lives. Some of his feelings must have shown on his face because the man stepped forward, puffing out his chest and raising his chin.
"You damaged someone's property, boy. I hope you're prepared to pay for that." He said as the guards held and there was a moment of bated breath before Squall reached back to his pocket. Pulled a small collection of bills, what was left in his pocket from earlier.
"Take it." one of the guards stepped up and took the fold of notes, his eyes sliding from Squall to Fujin. Fujin for her part was standing her arms close to her body just watching silently.
The guard spoke quietly as he approached.
"You ought to get a beating for this." Squall locked eyes with the man.
"I'm sure it would get pretty bad." His voice was even, and the Guard took the money then stepped back without turning his back on Squall. The bills disappeared into the companion's pocket of his dinner jacket.
The moment dragged as nobody spoke. The woman seemed confused by something held her tongue, it might have been the tight grip her companion had on her hand. It might have been the way three guards armed and armored with Galbadian military spec equipment felt like, maybe, just maybe, this wasn't what it seemed like. And then the moment passed.
"You're blocking the way." her voice was less firm, and with a tremor below it. Squall stepped off the walk and into the street. Fujin stepped back toward the alley. The group of five quickly bustled by. Fujin waited for them to pass, the Guard all gathering behind their benefactors casting the occasional uneasy glance back toward Squall who watched them until they were up the block a ways before walking over to Fujin.
"OOPS." she said softly. The corner of Squall's mouth quirked up for a moment before it fell again.
"Over a piece of cloth." he said and Fujin gently hmmed. "She wanted to kill me. Over cloth." He muttered.
"RICH." Fujin's declaration sharpened his anger.
"I didn't used to get angry about these kind of people." Squall said and Fujin reached out putting a hand on his arm gripping it firmly.
"CITY." She answered. Squall realized she was right. This city, where people went to work in the dark and then at the end of their work day walked back home in the dark. He saw it everywhere. A few Gil bought a meal on the street, but people didn't move. He could think back over all the names of the important people from that party. Their parents had been wealthy, and their parents. They'd thrown their lot in with Deling because he promised them freedom and power. Power they took and did what with it? Lorded over the people who made them wealthy. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the last of his smokes putting it to his lips and lighting it, even as he breathed in he looked at the package. Somebody like her got the lion's share of what he'd paid for these. They were cheap, sure, but that money didn't make it back to the person tending the machines that put them together. They bought dresses that could keep someone fed and clothed for years.
The smoke tasted bitter, softened by the tingle of the narcotic that played up and down his throat as he exhaled the smoke.
"I don't feel so good." Squall said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"THROWN." he looked at her then looked away.
"I'm glad I don't have to do this alone." he said, reaching to take her hand.
"TOGETHER." she nodded sharply. But his mind looked out at the city. Where people killed for a few gil. Where people took whatever they could get to lessen the sting of the lives they lived. Where a meal was replaced by a can. Where a break was replaced by a burning stick. Where life was cheaper than cloth.
"We're doing it wrong." he murmured. And Fujin looked up at him questioningly.
"Garden. SeeD. Everything. It's wrong." the crushing weight of it settled like a stone around his neck. As long as the people who controlled the nations did not have the best interest of the nation foremost SeeD as it existed could only perpetuate the status quo. Things would never get better in Deling city until the rotting crust was cut away.
"WHAT?" Fujin asked moving to step in front of him and look him questioningly in the eye.
"Not here." He glanced up and stepped into the alley to nimbly jump to the rooftops, seeking the highest one around. Then paused to make sure there were no eyes watching him. Fujin dropped behind him a moment after he landed.
"We'll never make this world a better place if all we're doing is chasing the wealthy's wishes." He started his feet skittering pebbles from the rooftop as he paced. Fujin stood watching him, letting him speak.
"The squalor, the darkness, even this damned war, it's all the same, the powerful move the people around like toy soldiers to cement their own power. It'll never change as long as these greedy, self-serving aristocrats are allowed to hold onto everything." He had worked himself up as all the pieces fell into place for him. He'd long suffered dealing with the powerful of each nation, only his own father had seemed any different, but he had very little real power compared to the guild-masters beneath him. He could suggest and cajole, sure, but the purse strings and therefore the power were all in the hands of the masters. Everywhere from the Grand Duke of Dollet to the Emperor of west Galbadia.
"DO?" Fujin looked at him and Squall paused, his first instinct was to get his gunblade and act. But would that do anything? Would it change anything, or would it just rotate who the faces are without changing anything? Was there a solution? His rant interrupted, Fujin laid a hand on his shoulder.
"THINK." He felt like that was probably solid advice. This wasn't something to go off half-cocked. He suddenly wished he was back at Garden. The Library, Xu, Quistis, and Selphie would help him get some perspective. History, politics, and economics. He let himself be led by Fujin though his mind was distant. She seemed content to give him space to think just now. They had days yet. Until he was protecting an agent of the rulers. Again.
A/N: Thanks for reading, as always the best way to help me improve is to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, and your thoughts. They not only motivate me, but I take them to heart and respond as quick as I can.