(Yes, I wrote a Quiefer

(Yes, I wrote a Quiefer. Don't eat me; it's a free country. *waves American flag enthusiastically, while you move on to the story, disturbed*)

            Quistis Trepe strode quickly out of Cid's office, not bothering to even give a courteous goodbye to the headmaster. She was furious, furious and scared and, despite herself, deep in the back of her mind, thrilled. He was back, he'd returned and he was going, she thought wryly, to get them all killed. Seifer Almasy, strong, egotistical, confident, often cruel to those who cared about him, formally time-traveling sorceress Ultimecia's loyal knight, and now a wanted and hunted criminal, on the run from all the things he'd done, that were finally catching up with him. And somehow, she and Squall and Cid had just ended up agreeing to let him stay at Garden. Honestly, she thought to herself, I must be losing it.

            Storming into the elevator, she hit the button for the second floor, only afterwards realizing that she wanted to be on the first. Thoroughly irritated, she pushed the first floor button, and, after an interminable elevator ride which stopped at the second, the doors opened, directly on Seifer's all too familiar face. Suddenly, the second floor seemed much more inviting, but he had his hand on the door before she could press the button and fly away to safety. "Instructor Trepe," he said, smiling slightly, and she couldn't help feeling a small chill run down her back. That voice…she hadn't heard it say her name like that in so long…but of course, she reasoned, it was a chill of pain that one of her students had gone so wrong. And anyway, it was cold at this time of year. Maybe the heating systems weren't working, that was a good thing to go and check on, anyway.

            But still, she couldn't move, so she had nothing to do but answer, coldly formal, "Almasy." She had the satisfaction…and regret…of seeing his smile fade slightly. He was obviously hoping to squeeze himself back into the workings of the garden, gain himself a reputation that would make people want to get to know him just enough so that he could turn around again and be his usual self. But what was his usual self, she wondered? Was he Seifer of Balamb garden, like she found herself so desperately hoping, the Seifer that was truly a good person, somewhere deep inside, the Seifer that was loyal to Fujin and Raijin, that practiced hard, that fought for the sake of the garden, that had run to protect Rinoa when he discovered that only three SeeD had been dispatched for her Timber Owls project?

            Or was he a new Seifer, the cold, cruel, calculating Seifer that had helped Ultimecia take millions of lives, the Seifer that had turned so easily on the ones he loved, and tried to defeat them, shame them, destroy them, all for his stupid dream of power and romance at the hands of a sorceress? Was he now the Seifer that was willing to do anything, even shun the life long loyalty of the only two people who had stayed with him through it all? She didn't know…and she knew that she wanted to find out, wanted to see what had become of one of her two prized students, the best in the class, the boldest, the bravest, and the ones that had caught her attention, not just as an instructor, but as a person, as Quisty, the grown up little girl from Matron's orphanage, who had loved them so much. But of course that had changed now. She was over all that childishness.

            He began to say something, but she, out of patience with both him and herself, cut him short, by saying "If you'll excuse me, Almasy, I have important matters to attend to," and pushing his hand away from the door, pressing the second floor button again, and watching through the glass walls as she rose higher above him, trying to read the expression on his face, but unable to. Even after the elevator stopped, she watched him, saw Raijin and Fujin come up and take him off to his new dormitory, which didn't have his name on it, but the name of someone who'd died in the battles he had instigated. It was truly ironic, she thought, that he had that particular dorm, and that the person he'd killed had ended up protecting him in the end. And she hated the irony, and she hated Seifer, and she hated herself for being so damn glad that he was back again.

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"Wha-at? That's insane, ya know? We'll be caught, like, real fast, ya know?" Raijin stomped into Seifer's room, with Fujin close on his heels. "BAD IDEA," agreed Fujin. "LEAVE." Seifer shook his head. "We're safer here than anywhere else. Anyway, this whole 'welcome back' ball won't be such a big deal, I mean, it's staying within the garden, it's not like they're inviting the rest of the continent. Hey, we don't even need to be there, not really. Or we could just hang in the back, and not talk to anyone. We're not gonna run away just because a bunch of SeeDs are suddenly gonna know we're here and be pissed. It's not like we can hide our existence from the rest of the garden forever. We're gonna do this right…" Raijin looked skeptical. "But boss, we were wrong, ya know? We did some bad stuff, ya know?" "TRUE," agreed Fujin. "Yeah, I know," said Seifer, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "I know. We're in deep shit. But I ain't running. Besides," he added under his breath, "I gotta pay for what I've done."

            So Seifer, Fujin, and Raijin stood up straight, and opened the door into the world they'd left behind so long ago. They ignored the looks people gave them; full of shock and horror and disgust, rage and fear and pain at the memories of people they'd lost at the hands of Seifer. Some stood frozen in one place, unable to move for fear, and some actually ran forward to take blows at Seifer, although none actually tried to kill him. He let them hit him, and though his body stung more with every well-placed blow, his heart stung even more as he realized the magnitude of what he'd done. It really was hard not to turn and run for the safety of his dorm room, but that wasn't something that Seifer Almasy could ever do, especially not now. He had to show the world the truth, had to change his ways, had to allow himself to be surrounded by the people who hated his guts, and the people who wanted him dead, because that was the punishment he'd chosen for himself. This was how it would be until they chose to end it, because he deserved every last inch of ugly look from every single person at this garden.

            He recalled a particularly ugly look he'd gotten earlier, and cringed at that, remembering Quistis's angry face as he stood in the door, trying to call up the words to say to appease her anger, to apologize for something for which there was no forgiveness. He'd felt that he had to gain back her friendship, or at least neutrality, more than anyone else in the garden. He prized her forgiveness so much he'd do anything for it. Raijin and Fujin knew perfectly well the lifelong crush Seifer had held on his beautiful instructor, but it had never matured into anything, not until he'd come back to the garden and seen how much she hated him, how much she wanted him to leave and never come back, how much she loathed even the sight of his face. He'd frozen at the last moment, and let her push him away, recognizing that there was no way to mend something that had been so badly broken that parts of it were lost forever. There was nothing to be done.

            But as he entered the ballroom, all brightly lit with candles and flowing with music and happy people, he wished to Hyne that he had been killed somewhere along the way of his fools crusade, because there was Quistis Trepe, standing and staring at him, looking furious and sleepless and cold and beautiful. He had never been faced with anything that made him want so much to run away and hide forever in a dark hole than Quistis looking at him like that.

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            She didn't know why she'd come. She continued to be confused about why she'd come as Seifer, Fujin, and Raijin walked into the room, suddenly creating a large and infinitely uncomfortable silence where there had been music and happy chatter only a moment before. But as Seifer turned to look at her, and she suddenly saw the look on his face, not at all confident and incurably distant Seifer, but scared, lost, and seeking something else. She couldn't hate him, so she glared at him, because that was the only thing left to do. Maybe she couldn't hate him, but hopefully he'd never know that. She hated what he'd done. She hated Ultimecia. She hated the stupid dreams that had gotten him where he was. But she never, ever, hated Seifer, not even for a moment. It was so hard, now, to keep that look on her face, while slowly turning away to the window, just as the music started up again, and everything resumed slight normalcy. She'd just leave now, quietly, and no one would notice.

            But it was not to be. Just as she turned around to leave, she realized her fatal mistake. She'd dropped the rage on her face, and Seifer had noticed. He was walking up to her now, and though she moved quickly, he was in front of her as she was three paces away from the door. "Instructor…" he seemed to have forgotten what he was going to say, and Quistis realized that she should just walk away, that she should just ignore the frantic beating of her heart now that she was actually in such a situation. But she couldn't bring her feet to move. She just stood there as he stammered and stares anywhere but at her, and wondered what had happened to Seifer of so long ago, where he'd lost himself along the way, and how, for the first time, that she could help him find it again. "Instructor, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I…" he still couldn't say it. She saw how desperate he was, and found herself, to everyone's astonishment, asking, "Would you like to dance?"

            As they moved on to the dance floor, she wondered what on earth she'd managed to get herself into this time. But he put his arms around her, and she looked up into his face, and saw those blue eyes begging her for just that one moment, and she was no longer able to think. She felt his arms tighten, and thought she should reprimand him, break away, or at least say something, but couldn't, wouldn't move her lips, simply let him hold her as they swayed back and forth to the music. He was, she noted, a horrendous dancer, but she didn't really care. Because she was here, now, with him, and she could try to forget everything about what he'd done, and everything about how he was being hunted, how he was never safe, and suddenly, instead of being afraid of him being here, she was afraid more than anything else of losing him.