Cowboy
Cowboy
By NightsDawne
Chapter 3: Noplace Like Home

Irvine excused himself from the company of the young lady he was dancing with as soon as the song changed, spotting the gold of Quistis's hair across the room. He threaded his way between students and SeeDs, hoping to catch up with her and charm her with a comment or two. Unfortunately he lost her as he got near the balcony again. With a heavy sigh he stepped out to calm his nerves and regather himself for another hunt.

A sudden voice behind him as he started to light a cigarrette nearly made him drop smoke, pack, and lighter into the ocean. "Those things will kill you, Irv."

Irvine turned, frowning and holding one hand to his chest. "I'm more like ta have a heart attack from you sneakin' up on me, Squall. Don't you know it ain't right ta do that to a man when he's got his mind on somethin' important?"

Squall snickered. "Still trying to get Quisty to notice you exist?"

Irvine groaned. "She knows I exist. She just don't wanna make it any more personal than that."

"Poor Irv," comforted Squall, squeezing his friend's shoulder. "You're out of your league. Better stick to the powder puffs you usually seduce."

"Squall, I find it highly ungentlemanly of you ta characterize the beautiful women I rightly compliment and pay attention to like that." Irvine did his best to feign offense as he got his cigarrette lit at last, but he never could manage looking mad.

"As if you know anything about being a gentleman. You don't learn that sort of thing in girly magazines"

Irvine pouted. "There're a whole lot of good tips in there about how ta please a lady."

"Whatever," replied Squall, leaning against the rail.

"Why ain't you with Rinoa, anyhow? Don't tell me you two are havin' problems already after all I went through to get you two together."

"She's in the bathroom," answered Squall, puffing his cheeks out. "Who knows when she'll get out, you know how women are."

"I know how women are," smirked Irvine. "You, on the other hand, are pretty clueless, my friend."

Squall didn't reply and Irvine fell quiet himself, knowing when his friend had had enough of the difficult work of conversation. It was enough to stand next to each other, knowing they were there for each other if the need arose, but not pressured to fill the silence.


That last day at the orphanage had been quiet, almost still. The three orphans left, unadopted for one reason or another, couldn't bear to talk or play and simply stood watching the last things packed up for the trip away. Irvine swallowed and reached for Seifer's hand. Seifer gave it a brief squeeze before letting go and choosing the more grown-up option of messing up Irvine's hair instead. Squall had never bothered to talk with either of them much and his silence was a rather familiar comfort.

It had all been explained to them the week before, but it still didn't seem real. Cid and Matron had gotten married, but rather than settling down to raise the boys together they were going to seperate. They had an important task to work on. Each of them would start a special school and the boys would get to go to the schools and everything would be fun and exciting. Irvine hadn't thought it would be exciting at all. The night before they were to go away he snuck to Cid and Matron's door and sat down to listen to the conversation inside.

"I don't think it will be healthy for him to be seperated from Seifer. He adores Seifer, they're practically brothers."

"But we agreed that Seifer wouldn't do well in Martine's care in Galbadia, he's too rebellious to thrive under a regulation soldier. And I can't take Irvine with me, you know why."

"I know why. And he's scared of being on a boat so I can't take him with me. .... Are you sure that Martine can take care of him?"

"I've known Martine for ten years now, we joined up together. He'll raise him as if he were his own son, I promise you."

Irvine had crept away to crawl into bed beside Seifer, refusing to be a crybaby even though the thought of losing his best friend made him feel sick to his stomach. It would be like being adopted and both he and Seifer had made a pact after Quistis and Selphie went to new homes that they'd never be adopted so they'd never lose each other. Every time a couple had come to the orphanage they behaved in the wildest and most reprehensible manner, so much so that even Zell was chosen and they were left behind. Now they were going to different places anyway. It just wasn't fair.

Irvine pushed his bangs out of his eyes and looked up at Seifer. He wouldn't cry, not even now. Seifer gave him a half smile. "Don't worry," he whispered. "I'll run away and find you and we'll just take care of each other." Irvine nodded uncertainly.

"Irvine?" Matron crouched down next to the boys and took Irvine's hand in hers. "It's time to go take you to the train station, so you need to say goodbye to Seifer and Squall." Irvine nodded solemnly and turned to Squall, but Squall just looked away, tugging at the hem of his shirt. Irvine swallowed and looked to Seifer. Impulsively he hugged the bigger boy. Seifer hesitated. Hugging was for sissies. Still, after a moment he relented and gave Irvine a quick hug back.

Irvine refused to say goodbye to Cid. Cid didn't want him, just like his real father didn't want him. All this time Irvine had trusted Cid, had loved him as if he were his father, now he didn't even want to look at him. Cid reached out to stroke the boy's hair but Irvine pulled away from him, his jaw set in supressed anger.

"It's okay," said Matron quietly. "Maybe it's just better this way."

Cid swallowed, closing his eyes tightly and stepping back. "Goodbye, Irvine. You'll have a lot of fun at your new home."

The train ride had been a blur of pain. Irvine sat all alone, staring out the window at the sea stretching away from the narrow cross-oceanic track. He slept once or twice, losing all track of time on the long voyage until the conductor shook his shoulder. It was dark outside.

"Wake up, kid. You're at Galbadia Station."

Irvine rubbed his face and got up, tugging his small suitcase with both hands as he made his silent and sullen way out of the train. He no longer cared what happened, he would just wait for Seifer to come get him. He dropped his suitcase on the platform and shoved his hands in his pockets, jutting his lower lip out in fierce determination not to be a crybaby.

The first thing Irvine saw of his new guardian was a pair of perfectly polished black boots. He could see the lamps from overhead reflected clearly in the toes. He slowly looked up, measuring the tall and muscular frame of a Galbadian soldier, but this man looked nothing like kind Cid. This man was built like a rock and looked as if he could rip an enemy apart with his bare hands. Irvine's mouth dropped open.

"Kinneas?" It was almost a bark, like he was daring Irvine to deny it. Irvine nodded hurriedly. Martine bent down to put his face in the boy's. "Cat got your tongue? When I ask you something you say 'Yes, sir.' or 'No, sir.', understood?"

"Yessiw!" squeaked Irvine.

"Yes, sir!"

"Yessiw!"

"Yes..... sirrrrrrr."

"Yes.... siwwwwr?"

Martine snorted and paced in front of Irvine as if he were an entire unit of privates. "I was told you were five years old."

"Yessiw.. wwwwr."

"Stand straight, boy. At your height you have to get all the benefit you can out of posture. Were you deprived of nutrition causing you to be stunted in your growth?!"

Irvine stretched as high as he could go without going on tiptoe. "Yessiw, I mean No, siw... wwr."

"Make up your mind, is it yes or no?"

"No, siwwr." Irvine added a salute, hoping it would soothe the intimidating man.

"Don't be a smartass, Kinneas!" Irvine dropped his hand quickly. Martine continued to pace. "Kramer dumped you off on me to take care of, to see you got proper training in the hopes that one day you might actually turn out to be something of a soldier. Now he's a decent man, but his ideas are a bit liberal. I plan to make you a real soldier. I'm going to drill the finest bunch of cadets ever seen on this or any other continent do I make myself clear?!"

"Yessiwwr."

"You will begin by picking up that suitcase and treating it as if it were a proper piece of equipment. Do it!" Irvine gulped and scooped up his suitcase, clutching it to his chest. Martine paused and stared at him. "For God's sake don't hold it like a security blanket, cadet! It's a Goddamn suitcase and you'll hold it like a suitcase!" Irvine fumbled to get it into a more suitcase-like position, looking up at Martine, his lower lip beginning to quiver in spite of all his efforts. Martine narrowed his eyes. "Better. Now march! Harrup two hree fo'!" Irvine needed no further encouragement and double timed it in the direction indicated by Martine's outstretched finger to a waiting Jeep.

Irvine was Martine's first student, but Galbadia Garden filled up quickly with other orphans and children whose parents were assured of a first class military education by the well-recommended retired soldier. For some reason, however, Martine felt himself compelled to mold Irvine more thoroughly than any of the other students, constantly finding the boy lacking by strict military standards. Irvine longed for the day when Seifer would come to save him from the torture, but days passed, then weeks, stretching into months and finally years with no sign of his friend. The hope that had kept Irvine going through strenuous speech therapy to acquaint him with r's and l's and hundreds of pushups that started to give his body some muscle began to fade. Lacking the will to fight Martine, however, he simply gave in and did the best he could to please the man. It was a doomed enterprise.

"Kinneas!"

Irvine jumped to his feet for the twentieth time that day, nearly knocking his desk over. "Yes, sir, Headmaster, SIR!" The other fifth year students giggled until their instructor hushed them with a look.

Martine glared daggers at Irvine, as if he were a personal affront by his very existance. "You'll report to my office on the march double time harrup two hree fo'!"

Irvine groaned, but hit marching stride, hearing cadence calls in his head. Martine strode next to him, the heels of his boots clicking like a percussion instrument on the waxed floor of the hallway. Cadets in the corridors doing exercises snapped to attention and saluted the headmaster as he passed, snapping off return salutes with a crispness that continued to dazzle Irvine. He didn't dare to relax even after they entered Martine's office, snapping to attention and wishing he hadn't had so many hot dogs at lunch. Martine might have been at ease, but it was a difficult proposition to determine if the man ever relaxed.

Martine sat down behind his desk and steepled his fingers, staring at Irvine with a steely gaze meant to quake the knees of any cadet. Irvine had faced it many times before and kept his knees firm, a small smile threatening his lips. He quelled it with the thought of the number of pushups he'd have to do if it gave evidence.

"I just got back your test scores, Kinneas!" Any thought of a smile vanished from Irvine's mind. He was a terrible student. He tried his best, but the other kids seemed to soar past him. Martine tapped the result sheet with one finger slowly like a perverse variation of Chinese water torture. "What do you have to say for yourself?!"

Irvine looked pleadingly at Martine. "I did my best, sir! I just ain't all that good at schoolwork."

Martine's jaw looked as if it would pop. "GRAMMAR!" Irvine jumped. "I'm just NOT!"

"You too, sir?"

Martine lept to his feet and glowered from across the desk, leaning forward as if only the oak furniture were keeping him from removing parts of Irvine's body by force. "WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO STOP BEING A SMARTASS?!"

"Sir, I think my test scores sorta rule out the smart bit.." Irvine trailed off as Martine's temple started to visibly throb.

"You, Kinneas, are the sorriest excuse for a cadet I have ever had the misfortune to lay my eyes on do you understand what I am saying?!"

"Yes, sir."

"You are hereby dismissed as a cadet of this school so that you will not soil the reputation of this learning institution do you understand?!"

Irvine swallowed. "You're kicking me out, sir?"

"No, Goddammit! Kramer didn't leave me that option! He made me your Goddamn guardian! You will continue to live here and make yourself useful in any way I see fit, is that clear?!"

".... Not really, sir. If I'm not a cadet, see, I don't see how I can really be of any use."

"Your marksmanship skills are rated highest in yours or any other class at this institution, Kinneas. You're going to train on the shooting range every day all day until you can shoot the wings off a fly from a quarter mile do I make myself clear?!"

Irvine relaxed, grinning. Shooting was the one thing he was good at and he loved it. "Thank you, sir!"

"Wipe that smile off your face, Kinneas!" Irvine snapped to attention again. "From this point on you will be my personal courier, errand boy, and bootshine!" Irvine groaned, then quickly fell silent at a look from Martine. "Now get out of my face! DISMISSED!"

"With pleasure, sir!" Irvine spun on his toe and marched out before he could receive yet another glare from the outraged headmaster.


Irvine looked up and flashed a smile to Rinoa as the pretty brunnette walked out onto the balcony and into Squall's arms. "Heya, Rinoa. Guess it's time for me ta leave. Three's a crowd and all."

Rinoa winked. "As much as I'd love for you to stay, Irvy, Selphie was looking for you."

"She was?" Irvine adjusted his hat and flicked his cigarrette butt over the rail. "Catch you two later. Don't do nothin' I wouldn't do!"

"That's easy," murmured Squall, pulling Rinoa into a kiss. "There's nothing he wouldn't do."

Irvine cast a smile to his friends as he headed back in to the party.