The Library Girl's name is Rosie, alright? That's what she's called. So says me. Enough with her having several names. -__-'
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Fifty Days
Chapter 4: Advice Worth Listening To
Squall heard the intercom beep on his desk, and seconds later heard Rinoa's voice.
"Squall, Quistis is here to see you," she said. Squall couldn't tell, but it sounded like she was smiling.
"Sure, send her in," Squall said, glad of any distraction from his paperwork.
He sat back on his chair as Quistis entered the room slowly. "Yes?" he asked politely.
Quistis formally saluted, then relaxed and smiled. "Squall, could I take a few days off?" she asked.
That made Squall actually stop and think. Quistis had never, not once, asked for time off, even when she could have asked for it. She had the only perfect record for teaching in the history of Garden, not including the Ultimecia incident. "Why?" he asked out of curiosity.
"I have some personal things I need to take care of," she said casually.
Squall shrugged. "Fine with me, do you want to use the travel fund?" he said, meaning the small collection kept for SeeDs who went on official trips. Vacations weren't exactly official, but he could bend the rules slightly, what with being one of the famous Children of Fate.
Quistis smiled. "I don't need it," she said. She didn't. None of them did. After they had come back from Ultimecia's castle, Intervigilium, Galbadia had came knocking to apologise, and offered to pay the damages for the conflict. The entire group had taken the opportunity to demand overtime for the entire incident, since they had definitely been on continuous duty. Three months of it. They could have quit and lived in modest comfort in most countries.
"OK." He had to admit, he was curious. "Where are you going?" he said.
Quistis waved away the question. "Esthar," she said simply, fingering the piece of paper in her pocket with the appointment written on it.
There is something going on here.
Squall shrugged again. "OK. How long are you going to be gone?" he asked.
"About a week probably," Quistis said.
There is definitely something else going on… "See you in about a week then. Is there anything the cover Instructor should know about lessons?"
Quistis sighed. "Only that the new guy doesn't let Cadet Brea get her hands on any serious magic. That girl can do some serious damage to herself."
Squall resisted the urge to laugh. "Note taken," he said, as Quistis walked out. When the door was shut and he was sure she had left, he sat back and the smile vanished from his face.
Something is definitely wrong…
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Quistis closed the door firmly behind her, and leaned against the wall to get her breath back, eyes closed and face inclined towards the ceiling. She felt her hand shaking, and balled it into a fist, trying not to collapse onto the floor-
"Quisty?"
She opened her eyes and saw a figure in blue walking towards her. She tried to stand up straight, and was rewarded by her vision blurring. "Hey Rinoa," she said quietly.
"Hi Quisty! What did you want to talk to Squall about?" the teenage sorceress asked.
Quistis walked around her to the door, ignoring the pain in her head. "Just some time off for some personal stuff," she said, wishing that Rinoa would leave her alone. No such luck.
"Really? Personal stuff? You?"
Quistis managed a weak smile. "Don't look so shocked Rin. I just need some time off."
"Where are you going?"
Quistis silently cursed. "Esthar," she said through gritted teeth.
At that point Fate must have intervened, because the phone rang on Rinoa's desk, and she whipped away to answer it, giving Quistis enough time to walk out the door and take the lift down before Rin could turn back. In the small elevator car she immediately hit the emergency stop button and sank to the floor, concentrating as hard as she could through the haze over her view of the world.
She relaxed against the wall, feeling the comforting glow of Cura flow through her, driving the pain from her head and body. She smiled slightly and sighed. Standing, she hit the button to start up the lift again, and stepped out, right into Seifer.
"Instructor," Seifer said in mock surprise, as she stopped right in front of him. "Fancy meeting you here." He smirked into her face, but saw that no response was forthcoming. "Trepe?" he asked.
Quistis looked up at him. "Yes?" she asked, and Seifer saw the same glaze over her eyes that he had seen before.
Seifer stood back slightly. "Nothing," he said.
Quistis pushed past him. She actually pushed past him. "Then let me go," she said, and moved past him.
Seifer stared after her for a few seconds as she walked away towards the dorms, and then shook his head. "Freaky woman," he said, and wandered off towards the Training Centre to blow of some steam over the last stupid class he had taken with the stupid cadets. Turning and drawing his Gunblade as he went in, he tried to forget about the terrible day he had just had, but for some reason he couldn't get the single image of Trepe staring at him with those unseeing eyes.
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Quistis had the feeling she should really be packing, but she had nothing to pack except some spare clothes, as apparently the specialist liked to keep subjects – she hated that word – under the same room as the equipment.
Sighing, she leaned back against the door, and ran a hand over her face. She felt the Cura wearing off, and started to concentrate on casting a new one, trying to block out the small ache of what would shortly become the next best thing to unbearable pai-
No.
She lowered her hand, and felt the spell fade from her hands, unfinished.
I can't let it get to me.
She sat, deep in thought, and when raised her hand again. She concentrated, and a new spell fell over her.
Silence.
She felt the muffling effect of the spell overtake her, and sat there on the floor of her dorm, as the Cura worked it's last magic charm, and faded leaving in the place of it's warm sensory oblivion a sharp red pain that flowed through her nervous system and started burning it to ash. She lay there, biting her lower lip, and finally let go and screamed openly, no sound coming from her lips, as the disease continued it's inexorable process.
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Zell lay under the several hundred tons of red-painted metal and liquid oxygen and explosive that was the Ragnarok's engine-maintenance cavity, Rosie leaning on a nearby desk, watching for signs that the huge spaceship was going to fall of it's supports and crush her boyfriend. She could hear muffled cursing from Zell, but didn't want to get any closer to the ship than necessary. Specifically, under it. She didn't know how Zell could actually sit under something that could turn him into a smear on the hanger floor so casually.
And he's whistling! Is he crazy?
She heard footsteps, and turned to see a familiar blonde walking towards her, a travel bag swung under her shoulder. She smiled hesitantly. "Hello Miss Trepe," she said.
Quistis smiled. "Please Rosie, call me Quistis like everyone else does," the Instructor said.
Rosie nodded. "Sure Mi- Quistis. Been in the Training Centre?" she asked.
Quistis frowned for a second, and then blinked when Rosie pointed to her head. She wiped quickly wiped the sweat off her forehead. "Yes," she said quickly.
Zell finally pushed himself out from under the Ragnarok. "Oh, hey Quistis! Need a ride?" he said cheerfully.
"Yes, actually. Going to Esthar?" Quistis replied with a smile.
Zell hesitated slightly. "Actually I was just polishing the engine block," he said, holding up the dirty rag he had been using. He didn't see the near-murderous look that Rosie gave him.
Quistis did, and resisted the urge to tell him. The girl had eyes like lasers. "Well, when are you going then?" she asked.
Zell stood, still not seeing Rosie's urge to kill him, and dramatically slammed his fist on the button to lower the ramp, which slid down with an impressive whirring noise. He bowed. "After you ladies."
Rosie took a step back. "I refuse to ride in that monstrosity," she said.
Zell looked surprised. "I didn't know you were afraid of flying."
Rosie shook her head. "I'm not. I'm just afraid of flying in that," she said, pointing at the offending that.
Zell looked offended himself. "What? It's perfectly safe!" he said.
"You drove it into the wall of a half-mile high slab of marble," Rosie said simply.
"I repaired it!"
"No."
"Rosie…"
"No," she emphasised, with the impression that if he didn't stop arguing soon, needles would be involved.
Quistis ignored the two and moved up into the ship. She turned and rested her hand on the button to close the ramp. "Are you coming? " she asked. "Or do I have to fly this thing myself?"
Zell ran up so fast Quistis hardly saw him move. That she was actually qualified to drive the Ragnarok probably didn't matter to him. It was his baby. He waved to Rosie before the ramp closed shut, and avoided Death by Piercing Gaze for another day.
The sound of the Ragnarok effectively made conversation impossible, and Quistis was glad as the act of piloting the massive thing distracted Zell from asking any questions. She sat back against the cold metal surface of the chair and tried to ignore the pain in her head.
Just one more Cura…
No!
She balled her hand into a fist, and closed her eyes.
I am not going to go down that road…
It would make the pain go away…
I could get addicted.
In about forty-seven days it won't make any difference. And it hurts so bad…
Quistis slowly opened her hand, and the familiar blue glow fell over her, driving away all the pain. She smiled slightly, only vaguely aware of her conscience prodding her.
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The Ragnarok touched down five hours and one queasy stomach later, due to Zell's fast and, well, erratic, flight path. Quistis got off the ramp, one hand held onto the side of the Ragnarok to avoid falling down. She turned to face Zell.
"And next time, can you fly in a straight line?" she asked quietly.
Zell looked confused. "That was one, wasn't it?"
Quistis sighed and decided not to throttle him today. She turned and started walking away, down the airstrip. She took a moment to look out over Esthar, and smiled when she saw it had been entirely rebuilt. She was about to start walking again when-
She quickly whipped back to look over the landing pad, and saw her again. She smiled and waved. The woman standing on the walkway waved back, and crossed her arms.
Quistis pushed open the door leading away from the Airstation, and whistled.
"Quisty!"
Quistis walked forward and embraced her. "Hello Ellone," she said, genuinely smiling.
"I heard you were coming, s'up?" the teen asked.
"You- Wait, how? We only left a few hours ago!"
Ellone giggled. "Laguna got one of the guys at the Airstation to tell him whenever the Rag was incoming. I guessed the rest." Her eyes suddenly lit up. "hey, where're you staying?" she asked.
Quistis shrugged. "I was going to go get a room or something," she said.
Ellone shook her head. "No you aren't. You can stay with us!" she said cheerfully. "Come on!"
Oblivious to her pleas, Ellone dragged Quistis off onto one of the HoverTeacups ("Laguna couldn't think up another name," Ellone said sadly), and the pair flew off through the huge metropolis.
"So, why're you here?" Ellone asked as the two went through the tunnels that made up the Esthar Public Transport System.
Quistis stared out at the passing scenery. "I need to visit someone," she said.
"Who?" Ellone asked curiously.
The HT stopped outside the Presidential Palace a few seconds later, allowing Quistis to climb out first and dodge the question. The place was massive. She shivered slightly and turned back to Ellone. "Are you sure you can spare the room?" she asked. She paused. Stupid question…
Ellone smiled. "I think we can all squeeze in together," she said.
The two women moved into the warmth of the foyer. Ellone took off the jacket she was wearing to reveal her usual blue and white ensemble, whereas Quistis hadn't bothered bringing a coat in the first place.
"Laguna asked to make sure you got this," Ellone said, handing her a key to a guestroom.
Quistis looked at the number and wing on the tag, and then raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Alright, Kiros did," Ellone admitted. "…Are you alright? You're sweating," she said.
"I'm fine. I just need some sleep," Quistis whispered.
Ellone shrugged. "Sure. Hey, you want to do something tomorrow?"
The girl was indefatigable. "I have an appointment to see a- someone," she said, quickly changing her sentence. She started to move off, head pounding. "I really need to get some sleep," she said apologetically. "See you tomorrow."
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Quistis turned to close the door behind her, and was surprised when it slid shut on it's own. She mentally shrugged and turned to the bed, falling on it with a sigh. Changing, she crawled under the covers and Cura-d herself.
She awoke three hours later, head about to explode. She muffled a scream under the pillows and sat there for a few seconds trying to concentrate on casting something stronger, tears streaming from her eyes. Trying to think through the red mist, she cast the only thing she could remember off the top of her memory.
Sleep
She drifted off instantly into the dreamless oblivion the spell dropped on her. She would see the specialist tomorrow, whoever s/he was. Tomorrow. Everything would be alright tomorrow.
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Another chapter done.
I am barely making these in time for my traditional weekly update. Now I know how real people on deadlines must feel.
That and the fact that teachers are shouting at me for coursework make me know how people, on deadlines must feel. Ouch.