Chapter XVIII – Fated Circle
Until habits break...
History will repeat again...
All because of one push.
Quistis's eyes needed a few minutes to adjust to the violet and azure structures that lined Esthar. The air always smelled like an unnatural union of dry metal and tempered glass. The team disembarked with their belongings and, led by Quistis, walked to Odine's Laboratory. Two Presidential Guards greeted them at the entrance.
"Who goes there?" one of them inquired.
Quistis flashed some proof of her identification. "We're SeeDs, from Balamb Garden." The guards allowed the group to pass. A man in a well-pressed lab coat met them with a nod and gestured for them to follow.
The halls were silent save for the clacking of boots and infrequent whispers. After passing through no fewer than five seemingly identical corridors, they stopped before a massive set of glass doors.
"Dr. Odine is waiting." The man swiped his card through a slot. The doors emitted a quick hissss as they pulled apart. Quistis and her team entered the laboratory in time to see a series of flasks smoke and shatter.
"You fool!" Another flask broke apart, but this time as a result of being thrown by Dr. Odine at a cowering lab technician. "Zat vas another ten hours of vork! If zis happens one more time, you vill be terminated!"
The culprit muttered and stuttered his way through an apology before beginning the cleanup process. Dr. Odine stomped over to the visitors before getting a good look at them. "And vat do you vant? Trespassers!"
"We are here from Balamb Garden per your orders, Doctor. I am the SeeD Captain, Quistis Trepe." She extended a hand for him to shake. He took it with both palms and stroked her fingers absentmindedly.
Dr. Odine squinted at her hand, dropped it, and got right down to business. "Here iz why I have asked for you." He shuffled across the lab floor, taking care to avoid the spots littered with broken beaker bits and the technician's similarly broken sense of self-esteem. Dr. Odine grabbed several knobs and slapped a few buttons on the control panel to pull up a map of the world. Quistis glanced over her shoulder to ensure that her team was paying attention and that she wasn't blocking anyone's view.
"After Ultimecia compressed time, there were pockets of ze world zat remained in flux. We first noticed some affected areas when my team vas vandering around. We chased after some strange readings zat we were receiving in some parts of ze world, and so we started an investigation. Since ze War ended, we have located several places zat we have now called ze Dead Zones." Dr. Odine pressed a key, and the map now included seven tiny red flags scattered across the world, with the majority of them concentrated on their particular continent.
"You vill not believe some of ze things we have discovered! It iz most peculiar…we do not yet know ze precise properties of ze Dead Zones. All we know iz zat they are areas where time and space are still in a very chaotic state. We vant to further our research, but we are having much trouble because of ze monsters in our target areas."
"Where are you trying to conduct your research, Doctor?" Quistis asked to subtly prompt him to begin providing the mission details.
"Ahh, we started small, so we had mostly stayed within the Esthar region. I vill now try the northwest, and do my research in this region." A shaded area appeared on the map, covering the space between Esthar and Trabia. "I'm going to have to vander up toward Trabia. We were vanting to enter the Grandidi Forest in ze northeast, but too much monster activity in between!" Dr. Odine flapped his arms in frustration. "Aiiieee…I have already lost a few good scientists to ze damned situation!"
"In other words," Quistis gathered, "you want us to clear a path for you."
"Yes, yes! Why do you think I call them ze Dead Zones? Simple: because many researchers have died there. So few come back. I am running out of people to send. I do not vant to burn through ze funding I have, so I need to spend wisely. Because of ze employment contracts, I have to pay ze families a fortune when someone dies. I cannot afford to have any more people die. Vill not have it."
"We understand, Doctor. We can begin right awa—"
"Wait, wait, wait," he interrupted. He walked past Quistis, Selphie, and Irvine to get closer to the rest of the SeeD team in his lab. "If a SeeD dies, do I have to pay ze families?" One of the boys visibly gulped uncomfortably.
Quistis saw Selphie's face contort into something akin to disgusted disbelief. Quistis's eyes immediately darted to meet Irvine's; she twitched her head in Selphie's direction almost unnoticeably. The Cowboy deftly looped his forearms under Selphie's arms to hold her back. Selphie's limbs flailed about like a confused Ochu.
The Instructor stepped in front of Selphie to block the Doctor from seeing her spastic display. "No, Doctor. Our deaths are of no cost to you. You only need to pay Balamb Garden for our services."
"Very good! Well, vat are you waiting for? Get outside and kill something. My scientists are already there. I am only paying for a couple of days for now. See vat you can do in that time."
Quistis clapped her hands twice to signal the team to follow her out of the lab. Once they were out of earshot, Selphie slipped into her tirade with incomparable ire as the group marched out of the building.
"Hooooooly Balamb Fish! What kind of Grat would say that about people? I just wanna jam my Strange Vision into that game show wheel that connects his head to his body, and I wanna do it over and over until he starts seeing strange visions!"
"Calm down, Selphie," Quistis tried to soothe her teammate. "We know he's eccentric, but he's also a client."
"I don't care!" She shrugged Irvine's hand off of her shoulder when he made an attempt to keep her steady. "So what if he's a client? Are we just supposed to take his crap like disposable diapers? Because that's all he seems to think we are: disposable!"
Irvine removed his hat and gently plopped it onto Selphie's head. "Hey, now…don't worry your pretty head about a thing, lil' lady. That quack ain't worth your time."
"Oh, you're right about that!" Selphie raced ahead to their airship. "We're taking Rocky and we're getting out of here. Forget the stupid mission!"
"Now, Selphie," Quistis began. "This contract is between Garden and Dr. Odine. It's not up to us to decide whether we want the mission."
Selphie continued to stomp toward the ship as she pressed a button to activate the descent of the well-oiled ramp. A rush of air brushed past the group as Ragnarok opened its mouth to receive its passengers. The Pilot slammed a small hand onto Irvine's hat when it nearly escaped from her head.
Quistis asked her team to wait for her in the Passenger Room. She and Irvine followed Selphie to the cockpit, where the brunette sat down and buckled up in one swift motion.
"Selphie, please listen." Quistis rotated Selphie's chair so that they faced each other. "I know you don't like Dr. Odine, and I completely understand, but as Garden employees, we don't have a choice." Selphie crossed her arms and huffed. "If you won't do it for Garden, at least do it for Squall. He's counting on us." Selphie's bottom lip twitched once in reluctant defeat. Quistis shook her head. Far be it from me to disappoint Squall. There has to be something… She needed to use her trump card. "If not for Squall, then for me, your friend."
The unprecedented sentiment nearly transformed Selphie into a pile of goo, but she of course couldn't let on that, on the inside, she was melting like hot butter in the summer sun. Selphie's eyes grew wide as she balled up one of her fists and brought it to her lips in an uncontrolled gesture of surprise. She looked once more at Quistis, who stared back earnestly. She then looked over at Irvine, who winked back kindly. Selphie sat back in the chair and heaved an aggravated sigh.
"Oh, all right, you two!" She grinned, the pitch of her voice rising with each passing word. "For Squall. And for you, Quisty, because you actually admitted that we're friends!" She hugged Quistis from where she sat and pressed the side of her head into Quistis's stomach.
"Thank you, Selphie," Quistis said as she awkwardly patted the top of Selphie's head, which made the younger woman hold her even tighter. "Now, if you don't mind, I think we'll begin."
"Aye, aye, Captain!" Selphie sprang back to life, saluted, and swirled around to take control. Irvine took the chair next to her and caught his hat flying back at him.
The Pilot's head turned to the Instructor, who had never seen Selphie's eyes so bright and alive. Selphie chirped excitedly.
"Where to first, Shipmaster?"
To while away the hours, Seifer pushed himself into one battle after another at the Training Center. After lengthy bouts with three consecutive T-Rexaurs (and intentionally without the aid of Magic), he finally began to feel marginally weary.
He sauntered around the outer perimeter of the Training Center to find a quiet place to rest. He was certainly not surprised when he nearly ran into Talman and two of his friends. No doubt they were helping Talman prepare for the exam. Seifer dove into some nearby bushes to snicker at Talman's phallic (read: compensatory) choice of a weapon: a bo staff. While the gunblade-wielder did admit that Talman was at least half-decent with the staff, the younger man's casting ability seemed subpar at best.
He watched as the three younger fighters dealt the finishing blow to a young T-Rexaur. The creature flew back several feet and landed dangerously close to where Seifer was hiding. From where he crouched, Seifer could only see its nose. He lightly tapped the beast with Hyperion's hilt. No response.
Seifer, being who he was, couldn't leave well enough alone. As the three Cadets turned around to give each other congratulatory high-fives and fist-bumps, Seifer pulled a Phoenix Down feather from his pocket and swirled it around in the T-Rexaur's big blue nostril. It twitched then sneezed, blowing a stream of hot, wet air into Seifer's smiling face.
The T-Rexaur quietly and slowly regained consciousness. It didn't know what made it sneeze, but not wanting to sneeze again, it wandered away from the bush and turned its attention to the teens. The creature let out an irritated roar and charged.
Talman and the young blonde girl ran to one side together to dodge the attack. Seifer recognized the thing on her arm as a projectile weapon, no doubt made popular by Rinoa's celebrity status as the kind and resilient resident Sorceress. The other young man had stumbled and fallen on the ground, and now scrambled to get back on his feet, dusting off his uniform with glove-clad hands.
Of all the people to emulate, they choose Chicken-wuss and the prissy princess, Seifer mused. He silently and lightly praised Talman for being somewhat original.
As the T-Rexaur rushed toward the trio again, Talman skillfully tucked himself beneath the monster and tripped it with his staff. The girl took the opportunity to shoot the T-Rexaur square in the jaw. It was a clean hit, but it angered the creature more. Talman began to look nervous and, in haste, cast a haphazard Fire spell that only fizzled on the T-Rexaur's tough skin.
They're only weak against ice, idiot. Looks like someone didn't pay enough attention in class.
It appeared that Talman must have remembered that factoid after all, because he made a second casting attempt, using Blizzara this time. Or, at least, he tried to. His poor concentration resulted in a Blizzard spell instead.
Seifer sighed. Deep down, he was an honorable man, he supposed. Selfish, but honorable. He wanted Talman to feel defeat at the end of his gunblade, not at the feet of a toddler T-Rexaur.
Green eyes blended in with the foliage and studied the competition like a predator with its prey. Talman stretched out an arm to cast again. This time, a layer of ice began to form on the T-Rexaur. The ice thickened before gradually building up to an enormous burst of icy splinters. The monster fell to the ground for the second time, finally subdued. Talman brought his hand back toward his face and stared at his palm, baffled and self-impressed.
Little did he know that Seifer had aimed a Blizzaga spell at the T-Rexaur, timed at the exact moment when Talman was casting his own spell. Seifer shrugged his shoulders to adjust his trench coat, worked out a few kinks in his neck, and managed to slink away before anyone was the wiser.
"Team C, sitrep?"
Quistis had instructed Selphie and Irvine to give the younger SeeDs an opportunity to practice giving situation reports. Irvine's Team C SeeD made a salute, and his hand slipped a bit from the sheen of perspiration on his forehead. "We encountered a total of forty-two monsters. Twenty-seven Caterchipillar, five Cockatrice, nine Mesmerize – all confronted and eliminated. One Hexadragon, but it was too strong so we made the call to retreat."
Interesting, Quistis thought. Usually, we see those species further east. They seem to be migrating westward. "Magic and supplies?" she continued.
"We've been trying to not touch our stock by drawing Cura from the Caterchipillar and Mesmerize, so some fights took longer."
Quistis paused as she mentally compared all of the reports. The answer to her next question should confirm her suspicions. "What's your success rate with drawing Magic?"
"Uhh…I'd say probably about…fifteen percent?"
"That's quite low for Caterchipillar and Mesmerize. It sounds as if everyone is experiencing more difficulty than usual with drawing Magic, yes?" At least one person from each team nodded. "Has casting been an issue as well?"
"It's weird, Captain," one of the girls piped up. "Our Magic seems kinda…de-powered."
"Please explain," Quistis asked, though she already knew the answer from her own experience earlier in the day.
"For example, when I use Fira, the energy that should come from a mid-level spell just isn't there. Sometimes all we get is a little 'poof' of fire and that's it. And we've all been in the field before – we know what Cura feels like. This doesn't feel the same."
One of the SeeDs from another team was nudged by his teammate to speak up. "That's not what we're seeing, Captain."
"Oh?" Quistis shifted her attention to him. "Elaborate."
"Well, one of us was very hurt, and we knew a Cura spell would only bring him back about halfway. When we used it on him, he felt great until he started vomiting." His complexion appeared a bit green just from talking about the incident. "We know that's a symptom of the beginnings of Magic overdose. But we thought that was weird because that was the first spell that we used on him all day."
"And it happened after only one Cura?" From what Quistis knew from her own research, it typically takes being on the receiving end of hundreds of spells before the human body can take no more.
The SeeD nodded.
"Captain," said the previously injured in question as he tried to reassure his teammates, "I know I wasn't okay before, but I feel fine now."
Quistis took a deep breath. The possibility of losing people was always a risk – it was a part of the job that she never, ever liked. She didn't want to take any chances. "Anything to add, Tilmitt and Kinneas?"
Selphie's hair bounced from side to side as she shook her head. Irvine shrugged before speaking. "I've been okay since I only use my bullets. Never relied on Magic much."
Quistis spoke sternly now. "Don't hold back any information on this mission, everyone…especially if it feels unusual. Everything is relevant. There's much that we don't know about the lingering effects of Time Compression, but that's what Dr. Odine's team is here to find out." She scanned the faces of the SeeDs she had brought along, and wished that there were some way to guarantee their safety. There wasn't. "Attention."
The group immediately straightened their postures and saluted.
"Excellent work today, team. I know that we're only here for a short time and for what might be a very straightforward mission, but we mustn't let down our guard. I will report our progress to Dr. Odine, as well as inform him of what we discovered today." She made an executive decision. "We shall hereby refrain from using Magic for the time being due to its unpredictability in this setting. Going forward, we use only physical offense and portable healing items. No more Magic unless it is a last resort. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Captain!" spoke a unified voice.
"The first thing you will do upon our return is have a check-up at the lab clinic. After that, you are dismissed until our briefing tomorrow morning at seven-hundred hours aboard the Ragnarok. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Captain!"
"At ease. SeeD Kinneas, once aboard, please send word to Esthar and request that they ready the clinic for our arrival. We will need some healing and support supplies from them as well."
"You've got it, ma'am." He gave her a two-finger salute and sauntered up the ramp. The rest of the team followed his duster as it trailed behind him.
"Who iz doing ze research? Me? Or you?" Dr. Odine's fury fell upon Quistis's head as soon as she reached a particular point in her mission update.
"My underlying message, Doctor," she strove to reply diplomatically, "is that our progress with eliminating the sentient hazards in your work areas will be impacted by these unforeseen factors."
"Like I said, zat iz not my problem." He turned away from her to push some buttons, checking up on a program he had been running. "I specifically requested for a team with direct experience with Time Compression. I thought zat would make some difference but maybe not. You SeeDs do what you have to do to get your work done so zat I can do my work. Zat iz what I am paying you for."
"I merely thought that you might be interested in our findings," Quistis reasoned. "Due to our diverse interaction with the environment, our discoveries may differ from those of your teams. We can use Magic – your scientists cannot."
That was her first mistake.
He turned back around to face her with narrowed eyes. "Who do you think you are talking to? There iz nothing Odine cannot do. It iz I who developed Para-Magic. The only reason why my people are not permitted to use Junctions or Magic iz because it may tamper with ze equipment! My tools, they are very delicate!"
"Our data is just as valid." Her second mistake. She could feel it. She was starting to let her interests affect her professional judgment. She needed to consciously stop pushing for her own contributions to scientific advancement, or else—
"Ahhh-ha!" he slammed a fist into the palm of his other hand in sudden clarity. "I remember you now! I remember you again!" He pointed a bony finger at her. "You were here earlier in ze year…you guarded my lab as I vent to Tear's Point. You are also one of ze Sorceress killers, no?" He continued before Quistis could respond affirmatively. "I created ze plan to defeat Ultimecia. You children zink you know it all, just because of zat. Right place, right time. Iz nothing. You are nothing. Zat iz ze best you could ever hope to accomplish. I, Odine, vill do so much more."
Quistis could not believe the callous way in which he undermined the single grandest event in the history of her life, of the world. She felt a tingle in the bridge of her nose, brought on by how treacherously close she was to tears.
"You can guard my front door however you vant, but leave ze mental work to ze academics. You are ze mercenary muscle…this iz not your battlefield. I am not hiring you for your brains – I have more than enough of those. Now, you…go clean yourself up before you taint my lab." He tried to shoo her still-soiled form away with one limp wrist.
"…yes, Doctor." Quistis managed to utter civilly before taking her leave of a place and person that, though much respected, did not deem her presence worthy in the ivory tower.
Quistis stalked mechanically down the long, sterile hallways on her way to the lab clinic, taking deep breaths all the while. Physically, she didn't feel too poorly, but Dr. Odine's verbal lashing was perhaps worse than what she endured on the field today. The walk to her destination was emotionally draining, for she passed room after room full of scientific equipment and technicians behind large windows, scenes that were at once fascinating and condescending.
Had she not become a SeeD, Quistis Trepe may well have been a scientist in her own right. She liked to think so, anyway. But she never had much time to think about alternate lives. There was even less time to think about those now, once she saw two members of her team on the clinic beds, presumably sedated.
"Are you responsible for the herd of kids that came in earlier?" one of the doctors on duty asked as he met Quistis at the doorway. He appeared to be in his late thirties, tall by nature and bald by choice.
"Yes, they're with me. Are they all right?"
"We've checked them all out. Most of them are fine – tired but fine – except for those two." He jerked his head toward the two SeeDs in separate beds, both hooked up to machines and intravenous tubes, and being tended to by some nurses. "They were okay coming in, but then things took a bad turn real fast. Have they had much exposure to Magic?"
"No, these two in particular don't have as much field experience as the rest of the team."
"I figured. Well, I'm gonna have to keep'em here for observation. At least thirty-two hours. Magic overdose, but it looks bad. They'll survive…we just have to keep a bit of a close watch."
Quistis nodded grimly and uttered a quiet "thank you" as she felt a pang of guilt. While SeeDs knew what they signed up for the day they enlisted, no one ever wanted to be inconvenienced by injuries (or death, for that matter). This unfortunate turn of events also meant that her team has shrunk to seven people. She would need to reshuffle everyone to optimize what was left of her resources.
"Hop on here, miss. Breathe deep while I listen," the doctor instructed. Quistis obeyed from her seated position on the exam table. The chilly chest piece of the stethoscope almost made her flinch when it touched her clavicle.
He shone a concentrated beam of light into her eye. "So what were you kids doing out in the sandbox today?" His tone was sarcastically cheery. He shifted the light to the other eye, then to her ears.
"Clearing the Dead Zones," she replied concisely.
"Ohhhhh, so you're the cleanup crew Odine hired. Can't be fun, unless you're the type to enjoy sucking the life out of monsters. But hey, what do I know about fighting?" he rambled on, mostly to himself. Quistis mused that he certainly did not talk like most doctors she knew; she was much more comfortable with Dr. Kadowaki's more proper way of speaking. She attributed his mannerisms to his younger age.
"We don't have much choice," she retorted. "You have your way of making a living and we have ours."
"Tough way to make a go of it, if you ask me." He pumped air into the sphygmomanometer, and she watched it balloon up around her arm.
"I can't imagine that it's exceptionally enjoyable to work with Dr. Odine day after day." She rarely said anything negative about the crazy scientist, but she was tired and hadn't the strength to keep up a front. She was more hurt by Dr. Odine's words than she would willingly admit.
He delayed his response as they both stayed silent, he listening to her pulsing heart and watching the meter, she indulging in the last of her fading bitterness. He could sense her sour mood.
"Thankfully, I don't have to see him much. He's not the one that gets hurt. Did he say something to upset you?" She said nothing but he knew. "Don't let it get to you, he's just like that. I haven't been working here long, but I've seen and heard things. Don't ever question him on anything. Not only does it never end well, it also usually ends in unemployment. That cranky prune drives everyone away eventually. Personality clashes are as common here as Creeps in Deling sewers. Then again, Odine's a piss-poor judge of character. Often just looking for a smart cookie, so he sometimes hires the most tactless twits."
"You don't quite fit that description," she commented, but quickly realized her slip-up when he raised an eyebrow. "Oh, no, my apologies. I didn't mean that you're not intelligent – just that you're more pleasant than most others I've come across in this facility."
"That's 'cause Odine didn't hire me. President Loire chose me and my colleagues in here." It was Quistis's turn to raise an eyebrow. That's why this doctor's personality is more nonchalant than is usual in his profession, she thought.
"Odine didn't even think it was necessary for our infirmary to be this big," he continued. "But the President insisted and here we all are. Turned out to be right. We've had more than enough work over the last several months."
"The lab has been busy?"
He adjusted his white coat. "After the War, Odine's been off the rails. He gets these 'ideas', you see, and his experiments aren't always harmless." He talked as he firmly poked and prodded her with his fingers, checking for internal injuries. "We can say what we want about the man, but he's a job creation machine. His projects and side projects eat up money like you wouldn't believe, although half of them actually turned out to be worthwhile investments. It's a good thing he's so well funded. It's the President's money anyway. Loire can spend it however he wants."
Quistis recalled speaking with Laguna at Squall and Rinoa's wedding, specifically about Dr. Odine's research activities. There seemed to be more happening here than Laguna had let on (Or maybe he doesn't know?). She didn't flinch even as she felt a small needle puncture her arm to drain a few vials of blood.
"My sister works here, too. She's a lab technician. Apparently, while Odine's having his strokes of genius, the rest of them are having figurative strokes because of his heavy demands. But like you said, we don't have much of a choice sometimes. This research facility alone probably props up most of our local economy." He taped a piece of cotton to her arm, stepped back and rubbed his hands together. "You're all good. I'll run some routine blood tests. If you don't hear from me, that's good news."
She stepped down from the exam table. "Thank you, doctor."
"You're too young to be so formal, Miss…" he twirled his hand to encourage her to finish his sentence.
"Quistis Trepe."
"Miss Trepe…sounds familiar." He blinked. "Are you that Quistis Trepe? One of the heroes who fought the Sorceress?"
"Yes."
She was relieved when he didn't make a big fuss. "It's a pleasure. I'm Doctor Steinway, call me Jack." He extended the hand he had been twirling, and she shook it firmly. "Fill out this paperwork on your way out. We just need your personal contact info, medical history and all that jazz. I was supposed to give it to you right when you walked in, but I figured it was more important I took a look at you first."
"Will you please let me know when my team members' conditions change?"
"Sure thing. I'm hoping we won't have to service your party again, if you know what I mean. Especially after you lot raided my supply shelves."
"Of course. Thank you, Doctor."
"Just another day on the job. The things we do for a steady paycheck, right?" He winked.
She chuckled to be polite, but his comment triggered unwanted thoughts about whether she herself was just doing this for a 'steady paycheck'. Too often, her mind spun in a vicious cycle of wanting to be something she wasn't, and then realizing that she was in far too deep to escape from what she was. In the end, she always retreated back to the mercenary life, the familiar and comfortable. Maybe she likes it after all? Did she only want what she couldn't have? Was she fated to live this particular life? She wished she could know for sure. She refused to simply resign herself to fate – she didn't even think she believed in it.
Quistis pushed the unwelcome feelings into a dark corner of her psyche as she walked to her temporary quarters. She had other things and people to worry about, and still needed to make several calls before day's end.
At 2036 hours, Seifer wiped away the stray bead of sweat dripping down his temple as he stepped into the much-cooler air of his dorm room. He felt a tingle on his skin and sighed in contentment. He always liked to keep his room colder than the halls.
He was about to begin stripping Hyperion of monster grime when the ringing of his phone pierced through the air.
Who the hell is calling at this hour? Actually, no one calls EVER.
He picked up the receiver and gruffly uttered, "What?"
"Almasy."
Seifer wrinkled his nose in disgust. He pulled out his chair and sat down. "What do you want, Shoe?" He never liked Xu. She was always there (so conveniently) every time he had failed. The coincidences had bred a bad association. So, he always made the extra effort to make sure that his pronunciation of her name was slightly off.
"Listen up, I'm only going to say this once."
"If this is your attempt at making a booty call, you're doing it all wrong. Plus, I'm extremely not interested." He picked at some dirt under his fingernails as he waited for a reaction.
"Go suck yourself, Almasy. No one wants your booty."
He snorted. "First of all, my neck can't do that. Don't think I haven't tried. Second, my deeds may not be popular, but you can bet your own scrawny booty that my body is still golden. You'd be surprised how many people might want my pretty ass."
"Bounty hunters don't count."
Touché. "At least I'd fetch a high price – a great bang for your buck."
"Now you just sound like a high-end prostitute."
"I guess you would know if you've paid for one before."
There was a grunt. "You know what? Quistis was right. You're much more crude and aggressive than you used to be. She thinks you're lashing out because you're nervous about your exam, but I think that you just don't know what you'll do if you don't pass."
She was encroaching on dangerous territory now, and they both knew it. Seifer defaulted to deflection with mock interest. "Oh, are you two close friends? Talk about every little thing with each other? Gossip about how fantastic I am?"
"Hell no, to all of that. Quistis only talks to me about work, and you, Almasy, are definitely a piece of work."
"What a big compliment from someone whose opinion I don't care about. What else did she say about me? That I'm her star student?"
She scoffed in amusement on the other end of the line. "Not exactly. And you won't get any more info out of me. It's not my place to give you your report card. Just drag your Hyne-damned, lazy carcass down to the West locker room by eight-hundred hours tomorrow."
"Secret rendezvous in the locker room? Are you inviting me to an orgy? I'm flattered and I hope you won't be staying for it."
"It's for your freaking exam, numb nuts. We're supposed to do some extra prep with you."
"Special treatment? I like where this is going."
"Screw you, Almasy."
"Hah, I knew you wanted to!"
Xu didn't bother replying. Before the telltale sound of her receiver slamming on the other line, Seifer distinctly heard her mutter, "I don't know how Quistis tolerates—"
He hung up his own phone and leaned his tired frame against his desk.
Quistis. This must be the ten-thousandth time he thought of her today. In fact, the only time he could stop thinking about her was in the heat of battle – that was partially why he kept training all day. In between slashes and spells, he had run his mind over the events from the night before. The words they said and the words they didn't say. The banter, the stares, the tension, the touches, the revelations, the promises…he lingered on that one.
He needed to pass the exam. Not only because she asked him to, or because of his ego, or to further what little bit of a career he had, but also because he wanted to find out if she would keep her word.
And he really did not want to have to kiss Zell.
Seifer's mouth curled into a snarl that lasted only moments when he unwittingly remembered brushing his thumb on her lips, which looked and felt as soft and inviting as he always dreamt they would. He had lost count of how many cold showers he had taken in the last several weeks alone, because of her. An electric streak of desire coursed through him as he vividly recalled the way she had looked at him this morning, with her chin cradled in his hand. He loved it so when he had her full attention—
His phone was once more crying out for his attention. Lost in his recollections, he hadn't noticed how long it had been ringing this time.
Crap, Shoe, leave me alone already.
He growled into the phone, "What now, bitch? Can't get enough of me?"
"…Seifer?"
His heart skipped what felt like three whole beats. He had to swallow hard to regain his composure. "Trepe. To what do I owe the pleasure of this conversation?"
His question was ignored. "Who did you think this was? You would have been very rude to her."
"Jealous that I may have other women in my life besides you?"
"Certainly not!" He could have sworn that she sounded somewhat flustered. "I hope that's not how you usually answer the phone."
"What does it matter, Instructor? When I make SeeD, I won't get paid for my phone etiquette."
"How many times do I need to tell you that everything you do is potentially—"
"—client-facing," he finished for her. "Yes. Do know. Don't care."
She released a rushed sigh. "You're really pushing it now, Seifer. Start caring. Your exam is tomorrow."
He didn't need this from her right now. "Stop reminding me. Why does everyone think I don't know that?"
"Because you don't act like you take it very seriously. You don't take anything seriously. Even in class, you never ask questions because you always think you know all the answers."
"Says you, Instructor, I have tons of questions for you."
"Of course you do." He could practically hear her roll her pale blue eyes. "And only on the eve of your exam. Ask away."
She took me seriously this time? She's terrible at this. "Sure. What are you wearing right now?"
"P-pardon?" He couldn't tell if she genuinely didn't hear the question or if she couldn't believe what she heard.
He grinned and intentionally breathed his next words into the receiver. "What are you wearing right now, my dear Instructor?"
A pause. "That's—what does this have to do with anything?"
"C'mon. I'm finally asking you a question, so answer me."
"I've just come back from the field and I've changed out of my uniform. Seifer, if this is about your uniform, I've already submitted your measurements—"
He had already stopped listening halfway. "Oh, so you're naked right now?"
"I—no! Hyne, why do I ever think it's a good idea to humor you?"
"Admit it, you love it."
"Why would I love being humiliated at every turn by a pompous jerk?"
"Admit it, you love me."
Another pause. "Seifer, do you ever stop?"
"Why should I stop? You never stop sounding like a lecture."
"…I feel like we've had this conversation before." Her words were somewhat slow and deliberate, as if she had been reminiscing about something.
"You didn't call just to give me an actual lecture, did you? Office hours are long over. If you're just feeling lonely, Instructor…" he propped up an arm on his desk and let his voice slither through the receiver. "…I can fix that for you."
She had to have known what he was implying. "I—Hyne, no! That is not why I called. You need to stop that, it's highly inappropriate."
"Stop what, Instructor?" he said in the most innocent tone he could muster.
"Hyne, give me strength!" she said, clearly not to him. "I had every right to be worried about you."
His face darkened. She always had to ruin his fun. "Oh, you were worried?" he spat. "That's why you called? No one asked you to worry."
"No need to get defensive, Seifer. You can't just…control whether you worry. People naturally worry about things they care about."
He was the one who paused now.
"It—it doesn't matter," she carried on. "I called because I wanted you to be careful."
"Uh-huh." He was too skeptical to buy what she was trying to sell: the notion that she might just care enough about his wellbeing to want him to be cautious, and felt enough of it to be compelled to call him. "And how is that any different from worrying?"
"Seifer, there was something that I didn't get a chance to talk to you about this morning before I left because I was in a hurry."
Well, well, well. This better be good.
"You won't understand right now, but your exam, it's…" She stopped to sigh and search for a suitable word. "…Unusual."
"Unusual how?"
"I'm not authorized to give you the specifics. I'm only telling you to be on your guard. Be professional. Nothing brash. Use discretion. Remember the rules. Follow orders."
"Trepe, you know I hate it when—"
"Just follow orders, Seifer," she interrupted solemnly, "and everything will be fine."
"Yeah, we'll just see how well that goes." He listened as she exhaled dejectedly into the phone. "All right, then. Off you go, Instructor. Or did you want to stay with me until morning? I have all night."
Her voice turned cold and somewhat distant. "No. That's it. That's all. Goodnight, Seifer."
Click.
Left all alone to his thoughts now, he quickly reviewed the heart of her message, her tone echoing inside his head.
"Be professional."
Does she not think I could ever be professional? I just never turn it on when I don't have to.
"Nothing brash."
What's your definition of 'brash', Instructor? If I have to save my own skin, I'm doing whatever it takes.
"Use discretion."
Don't I usually know the right thing to do?
"Remember the rules."
I'll only remember them so I can bend them.
"Just follow orders, Seifer."
He pursed his lips together.
His room suddenly seemed quieter than before. He didn't want to accept that he had already started to miss the sound of her voice as soon as she uttered the last syllable of his name.
Quistis had sounded slightly disheartened as well, and he only had himself to blame. Did she think that he was going to fail again? Was he going to fail again? Was he fated to keep failing until there was no one else left to disappoint? It had been this way with every field exam, his rogue journey to Timber, the War…
Why was it that every single sizable failure in his life involved failing her? She only ever pushed him to succeed and he pushed back. Every time.
Just once, he wanted to not be the one that sabotaged his own chances. Just once, he wanted to feel what it was like to have a future to look forward to. Just once, he wanted to make Quistis proud of him. But reality liked to be hard-hitting, and he knew that he didn't deserve any of these things. Some days, he even had trouble accepting that she had called him her favourite.
Just once, he wanted to personally and unequivocally earn that title.
So, maybe just once, he could bring himself to follow orders.
Author's Note: Can Seifer really do that? Who knows? (Well, I do, but you'll have to wait until the next chapter - there will be lots of action.)
I finally updated this story after nearly four years. My sincere apologies for the long wait, to those of you who actually waited and followed it all this time. Life gets in the way of so much, and I want to learn to find time to do the things I love. This fic is one of those things.
I know that this chapter is not terribly well written, unlike so many wonderful stories that I've read in this fandom, but I want to continue working hard to improve. To be honest, I still don't feel great about this chapter (not my best work), but I felt that I needed to get it done so that I can move on to the very next chapter, which is what much of what has happened has been building up to this entire time (I'm very excited about it). I'm nowhere close to the finish line - there is still so much more to come. I get the feeling a lot of the earlier chapters could have just been shortened and condensed. In my opinion, this fic doesn't really start gaining traction until around chapter 13.
Thank you for reading, and thank you for your patience. I would love some feedback and constructive criticism if you're kind enough to take some time to review. :) I appreciate every word.