Chapter 4: Blanket Theory
Quistis | May 27 & 29-30
Students were spilling out into the second floor hallway in a noisy gaggle. Unbridled excitement was written all over their faces. One girl twirled and skipped her way to the elevator. Quistis caught snatches of conversation that brimmed with youthful energy and unfamiliar slang (was she getting that old already?).
She patiently waited until the cadets funneled out of the classroom before heading inside.
"Happy Friday, Xu."
Xu waved at her from the instructor's desk. "Is that coffee I see?"
"Hot and fresh," said Quistis. She handed the to-go cup to Xu, who looked desperate for a caffeine fix.
"You're an absolute godsend, Quistis." She nursed the coffee for a bit and then took a long, indulgent swig.
"Looks like you had a successful lesson? I've honestly never witnessed a happier bunch of students."
Xu cackled. "They were probably just excited to see someone other than Aki," she stated wryly. "Never mind the fact that I'm merely a substitute teacher who has no idea what she's doing."
"Ha. What happened to Instructor Aki, anyway? I'm pretty sure he's breaking his perfect attendance record."
"Yeah, the news of his absence was a shock to me too. Apparently he came down with a bad flu."
"Sounds rough."
"I'm just glad I won't have to continue subbing for him next week," said Xu, wrinkling her nose.
Quistis looked at her curiously. "What's happening next week?"
"Didn't you see the announcement on the Intranet?"
"I don't remember seeing one."
"Squall canceled all classes for a special event. Some kind of combat bootcamp, from what I understand."
"Sounds interesting," said Quistis absentmindedly. She had definitely been on the Intranet as of late. Just not with the most productive use of her time.
Truth be told, she was preoccupied by the photograph of her and Seifer. She secretly cherished that moment in time when they walked back from the beach. Quistis had felt glamorous, opulent, festive—adjectives she could not usually claim about herself. She couldn't forget how Seifer's undivided attention had been on her in a way that had bolstered her confidence. The warmth of that memory was flawlessly depicted in the picture and served as a striking reminder of their bond. And yet, the photo spurred her imagination to yearn for something beyond their current status.
The notion wasn't entirely farfetched. It was true that they had developed a special rapport since his return to Garden. But a one-sided attraction was an experience Quistis was reluctant to face again, not if she had to be the one to initiate interest. Even worse was the possibility of succeeding and then failing, going past that point of no return only to be left with the utter desolation of a break-up. It all seemed so melodramatic in her head like some tragic film noir. Dark shadows and mean streets, moody jazz music punctuated by their cynical words, cigarette dangling loosely from her lips and Seifer leaning in close to light it up for her with a Fire spell and—
"Take a look at the schedule," urged Xu. "Cadets have to sign up for a certain number of training hours. SeeD aren't required to attend, but since normal operations are pretty much suspended, we might as well go check it out, right?"
Quistis smiled at her. "So it's like a glorified vacation?"
Xu laughed. "Precisely." She straightened up and gave Quistis a grin. "Speaking of which, do you know who's putting on this whole thing?"
"Who?"
"Seifer." Xu looked searchingly at Quistis, as if hoping for some type of reaction.
"Oh! Is this being held in the ballroom?"
"So you did see the announcement."
"No, I just remember him telling me about this a while ago. I didn't know what the event was at the time."
Quistis felt a welcome measure of relief. She hadn't bumped into Seifer in what seemed like ages and was under the assumption that he was avoiding her after their semi-awkward conversation at the library. Of course he would have been busy; she had forgotten all about his project…
"You seem pretty happy around Seifer these days," remarked Xu. Her eyes were boring holes into Quistis.
"What makes you think that?" said Quistis in what she hoped was an indifferent tone. She could feel perspiration starting to prickle her neck in the most uncomfortable manner.
"Oh, I don't know." Xu's eyes glittered puckishly. "Certain photographic proof, perhaps?"
Quistis buried her face in her hands. "You've seen the fan site," she mumbled.
"First of all, you looked exquisite. Second, I'm bummed that you didn't let me in on your relationship!" Xu gave her a sad little moue. "You know I would support you one hundred percent no matter who it is." Her smile quickly transformed into a smirk. "Even if I plan to tease you about it with no mercy."
Quistis gathered up her composure, knowing that a heated denial would only lead to endless ribbing from her oh-so-perceptive friend. "Seifer and I are not in a relationship," she said in her calmest voice.
"Wait, what?" Xu put down her coffee. "I'm confused. Very confused."
Something dawned on Quistis. Her mouth formed a tiny o. "Is that what everybody believes?"
Xu arched an eyebrow. "Is there another interpretation of the picture I'm missing? Because it clearly looks like you and Seifer are, you know, going out with each other."
"I am so dim-witted." Quistis felt like facepalming herself. "I thought the Trepies were merely imagining my love life. Key word: imagining. You know, like a hypothetical scenario?"
It belatedly occurred to her that there was no one clarifying the following: a) the photo was taken without their consent; b) Seifer encountered Quistis that day by chance; and c) Quistis was dolled up for reasons that had nothing to do with Seifer. Important contextual details…that only the two of them knew about.
"Some people can't distinguish between imagination and reality." Xu's tone was droll but concern creased her face. "Hey, cheer up. We can definitely have the site removed ASAP! Plus you know that the Garden Intranet hosts hundreds of mini-sites, so I'm almost certain no one in our group will have seen it by the time it's shut down."
"No." Quistis looked her in the eye. "I'm not exactly upset. I'm…"
Why was she floundering like this? Quistis had acted blithely indifferent in front of Seifer, brushing off this matter like it was nothing. But that was far from the truth, both then and now. She remembered the tender look in his eyes during their last conversation. Like he had been trying to dissect her heart to figure out the difference between what she said and what she felt. And when he had offered her shelter, she had exiled him from the deeper parts of her soul with her thoughtless laughter and poorly worded responses. She wanted nothing more than to take everything back, if only she could think of a realistic way to do so. She would have found humor in this downward spiral if she wasn't the one who was actually wallowing in it.
"I'm just…" tried Quistis again.
"...still trying to figure out how you feel about all of this?" offered Xu helpfully.
"Yes, let's just leave it at that for now."
Xu crossed her arms and observed her friend with thoughtful care. "Got it. I won't say another word, unless or until you're ready to talk about it."
"You don't know how much I appreciate you." Quistis placed a hand on Xu's shoulder.
She stuck her tongue out at Quistis. "Don't leave me hanging, though. I'm dying to know what happens with this whole 'Seiftis' thing."
Quistis was surprised to be summoned by Squall late Sunday evening.
"Sorry to call you to my office at such an odd hour," apologized Squall. He looked composed but haggard, as if he hadn't gotten much sleep lately. Perhaps Quistis should have picked up a cappuccino for him as well.
"No worries."
"As you probably know, Training Week launches first thing tomorrow morning. Seifer was supposed to oversee things but he just called in sick."
"I'm sorry to hear that." She felt a pang of concern, sharper than she expected. She supposed that Squall was choosing her as the next set of helping hands for the event.
"He sounded like hell. The infirmary's at full capacity, too." Squall frowned. "I would have contacted Raijin or Fujin, but they're both deployed on a mission. Would you mind just…checking up on Seifer?"
Squall sounded a bit uncomfortable, as if he felt silly for asking this of her. But Quistis knew by now that this was his unobtrusive way of expressing an implicit sense of brotherhood with Seifer. Their relationship hadn't been easy to repair after the war, but it secretly gave her small bursts of pride whenever she witnessed these acts of altruism between them. In her mind she would always think of the two as her students: the one she had to let go of because it wasn't meant to be, and the one she would not let go of because she wanted—no, needed—to know if there could be something more.
"I'll go right away," said Quistis.
Squall handed her a glossy key card. "Judging by the strength of the bug that's been going around…well, bring this with you just in case."
"Noted."
"Anything else?"
"I was just going to mention that you look exhausted, Squall."
"I am," he admitted. "Looks like I have to cover for Seifer this week." He stifled a yawn. "Get in touch with Xu or Nida if you need anything."
Quistis made her way to the dormitories with haste. Her intuition didn't feel so good about this, and she was bothered by Squall's solemn expression. How sick could Seifer really be that she might have to break into his room?
She knocked on his door. "Seifer, it's me. Quistis."
No response.
A few more knocks, this time forcefully. "Seifer?"
Quistis swallowed nervously. She held the key card against the knob and the lock gave way with an electronic beep.
Seifer was cocooned in his bed covers. If an agonizing groan hadn't come out of him she would have assumed he was peacefully asleep. She watched him struggle to shift his body toward the door to see who his visitor was.
She quickly kneeled at his bedside and pressed a maternal hand to his forehead. He was burning up with a severe fever.
"Seifer, have you taken any medicine?"
He regarded her through a haze of pain. "No," he managed to rasp out with great effort.
"I'll be right back, okay? I'm going to get you meds and food."
He closed his eyes and nodded weakly.
Quistis was grateful for Dr. Kadowaki's resourceful if costly habit of overstocking Garden's medical and pharmaceutical inventory. One could always be assured of an abundance of supplies, which had literally saved lives during the Battle of the Gardens. The doctor sent her off with a cocktail prescription and a new set of washcloths, admonishing her to "make sure that Seifer gets something to eat." As Quistis was leaving, it occurred to her that she hadn't even revealed whom the medicine was for. Dr. Kadowaki had either made a lucky guess or knew more than she let on.
She was aware that the zealous doctor had a soft spot for him. Quistis had once seen the way Seifer relaxed in her presence. His defenses had been down, freed from harsh gazes and troublesome expectations in the small but safe space of the infirmary. Of course, he hadn't been released without a proper scolding—but Dr. Kadowaki never dared to trample on Seifer's dreams, as if she believed there was something beautiful about his resolve to fight till the end.
Lost in thought, she nearly collided into Zell at the cafeteria.
"OH—I'm so sorry, Zell!"
"No biggie, Quisty." He gave her his usual dazzling smile. "You're signed up for the opening workshop tomorrow, right?"
"I did, but something came up. I'm not sure if I can attend."
"Sounds serious," he commented, glancing at the infirmary kit she was clutching onto. "Need some reinforcements?"
She couldn't shake off the image of Seifer's wan face. "If you wouldn't mind…"
"Yeah?"
"Can I trouble you to drop off two portions of dinner and some water bottles to SeeD Room 317? Feel free to just leave them at the door. I'm headed back there now."
"Sure thing!"
"Thanks, Zell."
When Quistis returned to the room, she thoroughly washed her hands before administering the pills to her charge. All the while Seifer gazed wordlessly at her with a mixture of gratitude and respect. He propped himself up with pillows and took his medicine without fuss, then bathed his face and neck with the cool washcloth that she offered him.
There was a dull thump at the door. Quistis opened it just enough to poke her head out into the darkened hallway.
Zell had arrived with the requested items, including a box of assorted snacks and electrolyte juice boxes from the Cafeteria Lady's Son.
"This is really helpful, Zell. Please tell him thanks for the extras."
"Anytime! Being sick is no joke," he commiserated, shaking his head.
Zell jabbered on about Ma Dincht's trusty home remedies, and Quistis got the distinct impression that he was prolonging the conversation in an attempt to figure out whom the room belonged to. Though she didn't consider Zell to be an intentionally nosy guy, he had an uncanny habit of gravitating to wherever the action was and getting all hyped up about it like a spinning top (bless his heart). She quickly but politely cut him off: "Thanks again. See you later!"
"Who was that?" Seifer's voice sounded rough and dazed, like he had been smashed up by one too many monsters.
"The food faerie," she answered, gingerly setting a tray onto his lap. "Now, eat."
"This is nice," he murmured—more to himself than to Quistis. "Being tended to, by you." He started listlessly stirring his tomato bisque.
She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "What was that?"
"Nothing." Seifer decided to abandon his spoon. "Aren't you gonna eat too?"
Quistis watched his face temporarily disappear as he tipped the bowl to his mouth and slowly drank the soup like a smoothie.
"In a bit," she said, reassured to see that at least his appetite was intact. "Just want to make sure you get fed first."
As he ate, she gazed around his room with deep interest. It was sparsely decorated and surprisingly neat with the exception of his desk, which looked like it had suffered repeated run-ins with the Tasmanian Devil. A snarl of wires and cords rambled over the edge of the table and was absorbed by a formless mass of down covers in addition to the ones he had on his bed. Quistis' eyes followed the cloud-like trail of white bedding that erratically lined an entire wall of the room. For some reason the arrangement didn't look terribly out of place, as if she had wandered into some kind of nature-inspired art exhibit at a museum. She absently wondered why Seifer owned so many blankets and what he could possibly need all of them for. A mastery in crafting blanket forts? An extreme dislike of doing his laundry?
After he finished his meal, she reached out to check his forehead again.
Seifer intercepted her in one swift movement, his hand enveloping hers with a force that was neither gentle nor rough—just compelling, as if he was planning not to release her until he said his piece.
He averted his gaze. "You don't have to go," he said quietly.
Quistis instinctively began to withdraw her hand, but then something strange and wonderful happened. It seemed to move of its own volition, finding its way back into Seifer's grasp. She tightened her hand into his, and he squeezed back. He turned his head toward her and confidently met her eyes. They stayed like that for a while, hands clasped and looking soundlessly at each other.
Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'll stay for a bit longer."
Seifer nodded in affirmation, released her hand, and eased himself back into a supine position. She could see the drowsiness from the drug taking effect, so she tucked in the covers around him.
Quistis wasn't hungry anymore. Her hand still felt warm from his touch. She wrapped herself in one of his many blankets and snuggled into the loveseat next to his bed, trying hard not to succumb to a fatal swooning.
She stayed by Seifer's side until his breathing evened out, the muscular tension left his body, and sleep overtook him.
Quistis had not intended to doze off.
She was startled awake by a faint whimpering and panicked rustling of fabric.
She thought vaguely that the lamp must have shut down automatically—she couldn't remember switching off the light, much less falling asleep. Moonlight suffused the room in a cold and unforgiving glare. She glanced at the clock hanging above the bed: 0300 hours.
Seifer was battling another wave of sickness. She was hesitant to rouse him from sleep, but it was time for another round of pills. She turned on the lamp, got another dose ready, and refilled his glass of water.
He had partially kicked off the covers and his hands were fisted with a strength that was fierce and unsettling. As Quistis leaned in closer she could see tremulous beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. His whimpering had stopped, replaced by a frail twitchiness. She had the absurd impulse to sing him a soothing lullaby.
Quistis gently shook his shoulder. "Seifer. Meds."
He jolted awake. Looked at her piercingly with something like disquietude. Breath ragged with turbulence. And then she understood. He had been in the aching throes of a nightmare.
"It's okay." She touched his arm. "You're okay now."
Seifer washed down the medicine with a strenuous gulp of water and pulled the covers tightly around him. He was not shivering from illness, nor was the room particularly chilly. It suddenly occurred to her that perhaps he found great comfort in blankets, that the physical sensation of being wrapped and held provided him with an anchor of sanity in the aftermath of these bad dreams.
He stared at something in the distance as if seized in an eerie drift. The sight of his distress shook her. Had he been tormented by images feral and unbound? Had the specter of Ultimecia returned to make his thoughts craggy and distorted, throwing him into an inquisition of regret and self-doubt?
When Seifer finally spoke up, his voice was anemic. "That same dread. That same feeling of losing control and being swallowed up alive. I haven't been affected in a while, but sometimes…"
His half-finished admission twisted her heart. He had never revealed any inkling of emotional affliction to her before. He was the epitome of strength. The contrast between the two Seifers was a splash of dissonant noise but at the same time she understood that they were one and the same. Brash, carefree, and graceful—even as his bluster contorted into anguish and he was shot through with sadness. Quistis heard his plea for understanding and connection, and she found herself wanting to create a feeling of sanctuary for him.
"I'm here for you, Seifer."
The clattering and fidgeting of his mind appeared to cease. His lip curled up in satisfaction. "I know," he said simply.
She heard the subtle inflection in Seifer's tone: an assurance that Quistis was somehow becoming more and more 'his.'
And I'll let you have me, Seifer…if you want this as much as I do.
Quistis watched him drift back to sleep. The impulse to sing him a lullaby was still strong. Perhaps it wasn't so absurd after all. Matron used to croon them to sleep at the orphanage, a memory that had returned to Quistis after the war. She remembered one song in particular and had asked Matron to teach her the lyrics. The melody sounded old and it made her feel sad. But it was the kind of sad that ultimately made her feel happy. It was sweet and melancholy, and made her think deeper about the mysteries of life.
She took a deep breath and began to sing in her softest voice. She had no intention of waking him up; there was no need for an audience. It would give her joy simply to do this for him.
When we played our charade
We were like children posing
Playing at games, acting out names
Guessing the parts we played
She laid her head down next to his and gazed at him.
Oh what a hit we made
We came on next to closing
Best on the bill, lovers until
Love left the masquerade
Such long, soft-looking lashes, with just a hint of a frown. So vulnerable-looking.
Fate seemed to pull the strings
I turned and you were gone
While from the darkened wings
The music box played on
But he was beautiful in spades, even in his turmoil.
Sad little serenade
Song of my heart's composing
I hear it still, I always will
Best on the bill…
Charade
With a shaking hand, she kissed her fingers and pressed them to his lips before leaving the room.
Quistis felt like she was on the edge of the world—a place where standard rules didn't apply anymore.
Author's Notes: The song is "Charade (Vocal)" by Henry Mancini from the Audrey Hepburn movie Charade (1963). Matt Monro also sang this but I prefer the Vocal version. When thinking about the lyrics, I kept imagining the moment Seifer or Quistis departed the orphanage and the sense of loss and change that the one left behind would have had to deal with. The part about Quistis feeling sad-but-happy was inspired by the Doctor Who episode "Blink" (2007). The source dialogue goes like so:
Sally: I love old things. They make me feel sad.
Kathy: What's good about sad?
Sally: It's happy for deep people.