A/N: Hello again! Sorry this one took a few more days too. I have a different excuse this time: finals. I'm sure you can all feel the pain. I can't complain about the reviews, though. Being my usual review-hungry self, I will of course demand just as many again. ^^ I'm an author; stroke my ego and I'll stroke yours.
Since someone (I can't remember who) mentioned that they're looking forward to Seifer and Quistis getting to Timber I thought I ought to clear that up. I don't know if anyone caught it last chapter, but their train from Balamb leaves 1054 hours. We started at 0954 hours. That's one hour, people. That's it. However (I'm not that mean!) there IS an epilogue at thirteen hundred hours, when they are in Timber. So you get to see it anyway. But don't expect me to clear everything up for you, okay? Also after the epilogue, I answer any and all questions/references, list all the quotes I used, and chat with everyone who reviewed me (yes, everyone). So stay tuned.
As for what all Seifer knows that he's not telling, patience is a virtue. ^_- (listens to readers groan)
Don't forget to leave me a review at the bottom.
Enjoy!
---------------
~Hourglass~
---------------
10:20 AM
(She said)
We're beyond the turnstiles now, though the sleepy guard still has us in his sights. Being out of Garden like this is almost... liberating. The air is fresh and cool, it's not going to be hot today. As a matter of fact it's cloudy, so the sun is mostly hidden, only coming out briefly to flush the world vibrant with sudden light before vanishing again.
Moving at a swift pace the ground is eaten beneath our feet but it will still take some time to get to Balamb. In a car the trip would be a matter of seconds, it's only about two klicks away after all, but on foot, even doubletime, we'll need a good ten minutes to get there. Not that long really but I can feel time pressing in on me, feel it stretching on into infinite eternity, feel it slipping through my fingers like grains of sand grasped in a child's hand on a beach.
|I used to do that.|
Had I? Even I don't know for sure. But I remember a beach, blue water sparkling in the sun; I remember sitting on a cliff looking down at it; I remember... I *don't* remember. I've forgotten.
I haven't thought about my childhood in years. I've been too busy, too focused on my goals. Now suddenly it has loomed up again in my life, assuming a new significance, and I'm disturbed to realize I can't remember. I strain my memory, trying to find the fragments of life before Garden. All I find is blackness. Darkness, a cold, yawning hole in my subconscious, crackled through with lightning, tendrils of electricity like skeletal hands grasping me, hooking its claws through my mind, drawing me in.
I reel back, shocked, shivering uncontrollably. Thoughts spin wild through my head. What happened to me? Why? When? Memory marches back uninterrupted for nearly five years... then fades, holes appearing suddenly like cigarette holes in crackling, onion-thin paper... then nothing. Only that frightening, gaping nothingness I shy away from again, accompanied by an irrational fear.
My sudden movement hasn't gone unnoticed. I can feel Seifer's gaze on me and I calm noticeably under his eyes. Part of that is reflex, conditioned by years of presenting a calculated image. Part of that is instinctive... because of who it is. *That* triggers something, a lightning-flash of memory, I try to grasp it but it's gone as soon as it comes, flitting back away to vanish among its brethren in the darkness. It makes me dizzy. I feel cold, chilled, alone. My reaction is instinctive. I reach out for warmth.
10:21 AM
(He said)
I can sense her uncertainty, radiating out from her in waves, and I squeeze her hand reassuringly. I still can't quite realize this is real. Even the impending battle with Ultimecia couldn't halt the rush of emotion I felt when Quistis placed her hand trustingly in mine. It's the little things that get you, I've heard. I've wanted her for so long yet I still aren't prepared for even so simple an act as holding hands while taking a walk.
Not a walk. A march. A mission.
And she's still upset about something.
"Quistis?" I wait for her to look at me, feet still marching automatically, one-two one-two, years of SeeD training means we're perfectly in step. "What's wrong?" I have to bite my tongue to keep from adding anything I shouldn't. Like a pet name. I mentally slap myself and order me more focused.
She sighs, a little uncomfortably, and instead of answering chooses to ask. "What was your childhood like?"
She sounds wistful; I'm instantly wary. This isn't good. She's not supposed to dwell on things like childhood yet. But who am I to say that? I traveled back to change things. Well, they've changed all right. But until Ultimecia is defeated-- until things resume their natural course-- too much knowledge is still dangerous. Until things resume their natural course... it may be too late. Even before I came back, it may have been too late. I can only try to put things back the way they were. The right way. The wrong way. How many other pasts for history to take?
"I'm an orphan," I begin, feeling my way cautiously through the footpaths of memory. I've solid ground but she's skirting quicksand, looking thus far in vain for the safe path through. "I don't remember my parents. Matron told me they died when I was very young." No details. It's better that way. Less chance of... "I came to Garden when I was twelve. It was just... the thing to two. There were five other kids from the orphanage that went too. Not all of them to Balamb, though." No mention of Ellone. Keep her out of it, even numerically.
Quistis was staring at me. Her look send a chill right through me. Not sadness or pity or even memory, as might be expected. Instead a horrible, dawning suspicion.
"'Matron is in Timber,'" she quoted softly. Flatly.
Oh, Hyne.
"You said 'Matron is in Timber.'"
I've slipped up.
"Why us, I asked you."
She's made the connection.
"Six children you said. Not all went to Balamb Garden, hmmm? But perhaps *four* of them did?"
Awful realization.
"Then a transfer student arrives from Trabia Garden, and suddenly these carefully laid-plans you allude to change."
I tried to protect you from this...
"We don't have an exchange program with Galbadia Garden."
I've failed. As with so many other things in my life, I've failed.
"If we did, would there be a sixth person involved in all this?"
I didn't want this for you. Not yet. Such disillusionment. I wanted to spare you this knowledge. Of what has become of our childhood. Of what we have become. Of what we have lost.
One slip of the tongue.
I was right to be afraid.
10:22 AM
(She said)
He closes his eyes, trusting his feet and our linked hands to keep him on the path.
It's all the answer I need.
That's why us.
But if it's such a simple reason, that we were once under the care of a woman who now needs our help in return, then why all the secrecy? Why not just tell us? Why make the mission top secret?
There's something else going on here, there's something you're not telling me, there's something I still don't understand. Something that has to do with my empty memory.
"Why can't I remember anything? Why keep all this hidden?"
It's his turn to sigh, now, and the release of air sounds oddly sad. "I'm sorry, Quisty." The nickname is familiar and foreign at the same time; was I called that, once? "You know too much already. You've forgotten for a reason."
He must know I'm not one to be satisfied with that kind of an answer, especially if he's known me as far back as all that.
If he's known me... that long... then...
Oh, Hyne, help me.
"Why did you do it?"
I can feel him tense beside me, green-eyed gaze shifting warily. I can practically hear him thinking "What now?"
But that's not what I'm getting at. "Act like you did. If it's true... it makes a nasty sort of sense... then why did you behave that way? You fought with Squall, teased Zell, you constantly disrupted my class... I can understand you hated it but..." I stop abruptly, gulping air to hold down a rising tide of betrayal. he *did* hate my class, he'd gone out of his way countless times to tell me how much he despised me. And yet it had felt so good when he kissed me. It felt so good to walk down the road to Balamb with him, holding hands... no. I was right to stop liking him. I was right to distrust him, this arrogant, cocky bastard who expected me to believe him when he fed me this ridiculous story. The fact that I'd done so up till now only galled me more. I snatched my traitorous hand from his and stopped in the middle of the road, irresolute. There was a chance, however slight, that these orders really did come from Cid. If they did, if this woman really did need my help, I should go on for the mission's sake. I *am* a professional. But why shouldn't he have lied about this? It makes a sick kind of sense, I can see it all fitting together despite the gaps in my memory, I know he didn't mean me to make that connection. But he's clever. I don't know what to do, what to believe. I'm cast adrift, bobbing alone on a sea of doubt. Darkness surrounds me, isolates me and I can't see the light.
10:23 AM
(He said)
She pulls away from me and I want to cry out, it's all falling apart and I'm losing her even as I stand here. I can feel her fragile trust in my dying, I can see she's walling herself away. Don't, Quistis, you'll only hurt yourself, you can't live alone. Don't shut me out, please, it's not what you think. I won't let this happen. The world isn't prepared for what I can do but it's the only way I have left to reach her and letting her go was never and option. It's about time this change worked in my favor. The world can accommodate this.
That doesn't make it any less dangerous.
I can *feel* Ultimecia's attention being caught as I reach for the last of the powers she'd bequeathed me. They've been fading, out of sync with this time, they don't belong here. But they're not yet completely gone. I touch the remaining pool and guide it, gently, towards Quistis.
Her reaction is immediate. She straightens abruptly, eyes widening, focused inward. I'm trying to hurry, feeling Ultimecia's questing gaze clear from Timber, searching out the source of the power flare I'm generating. A terrible risk. But I can't bear the alternative.
With one final mental *push*, the last pathway is rebuilt. I fling the power away, metaphorically, disassociating myself from it as fast as I can. Just in time. A tense minute later her search passes over me, still frustrated. I take a deep breath of relief and reach for Quistis, forgetting caution in the need to know she's still here with me. I'll make it all right. No matter what.
10:24 AM
(She said)
My eyes are wide open but I don't see anything around me. I'm watching home movies in my own head, old memories long buried coming to light, wonderful, intangible. Quezacotl is beating his wings irritably in my mind, complaining of having to build new pathways to get out, but I pay him no mind, too caught up in a vision of what was.
Scenes flicker before my eyes but what I really feel is the emotions, as if they were recorded more clearly by a child's mind. Laughter comes through the most, the clearest; creativity, treasured secrets, fireflies and snacktime and bedtime stories. Happiness. Contentment. Reassurance.
Everything Seifer told me is the truth.
I feel like laughing with the giddiness of it all, and I do, snuggling into Seifer's arms like I sued to on cold winder nights, when we'd sprawl on the lawn and watch the stars come out while listening to Matron's soft clear voice tell stories of faraway lands like Esthar and Shumi Village. It was friendly then. Platonic. Now it's anything but.
He's breathing hard. Somehow he did this for me, gave me this precious gift. History puts everything in focus. Including my emotions.
I feel young, giddy, and in love.
This time it was I who kissed him.
Which event occurred roughly three seconds before the wild T-Rexuar attacked.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ooooh, I'm evil. I should probably join the Proud Club of People Who Like Cliffhangers Too Much. But then, I only like inflicting them. I don't like reading them. Regular little hypocrite, aren't I? No cliffhanger next time, I promise, if that helps. And the next chapter will be out... oh, probably Wednesday, assuming you all review me appropriately. If I see over fifty reviews I might be able to have it out tomorrow... wink wink nudge nudge... just go ahead and tap that lilac box down there.
Lyaka ^^
Since someone (I can't remember who) mentioned that they're looking forward to Seifer and Quistis getting to Timber I thought I ought to clear that up. I don't know if anyone caught it last chapter, but their train from Balamb leaves 1054 hours. We started at 0954 hours. That's one hour, people. That's it. However (I'm not that mean!) there IS an epilogue at thirteen hundred hours, when they are in Timber. So you get to see it anyway. But don't expect me to clear everything up for you, okay? Also after the epilogue, I answer any and all questions/references, list all the quotes I used, and chat with everyone who reviewed me (yes, everyone). So stay tuned.
As for what all Seifer knows that he's not telling, patience is a virtue. ^_- (listens to readers groan)
Don't forget to leave me a review at the bottom.
Enjoy!
---------------
~Hourglass~
---------------
10:20 AM
(She said)
We're beyond the turnstiles now, though the sleepy guard still has us in his sights. Being out of Garden like this is almost... liberating. The air is fresh and cool, it's not going to be hot today. As a matter of fact it's cloudy, so the sun is mostly hidden, only coming out briefly to flush the world vibrant with sudden light before vanishing again.
Moving at a swift pace the ground is eaten beneath our feet but it will still take some time to get to Balamb. In a car the trip would be a matter of seconds, it's only about two klicks away after all, but on foot, even doubletime, we'll need a good ten minutes to get there. Not that long really but I can feel time pressing in on me, feel it stretching on into infinite eternity, feel it slipping through my fingers like grains of sand grasped in a child's hand on a beach.
|I used to do that.|
Had I? Even I don't know for sure. But I remember a beach, blue water sparkling in the sun; I remember sitting on a cliff looking down at it; I remember... I *don't* remember. I've forgotten.
I haven't thought about my childhood in years. I've been too busy, too focused on my goals. Now suddenly it has loomed up again in my life, assuming a new significance, and I'm disturbed to realize I can't remember. I strain my memory, trying to find the fragments of life before Garden. All I find is blackness. Darkness, a cold, yawning hole in my subconscious, crackled through with lightning, tendrils of electricity like skeletal hands grasping me, hooking its claws through my mind, drawing me in.
I reel back, shocked, shivering uncontrollably. Thoughts spin wild through my head. What happened to me? Why? When? Memory marches back uninterrupted for nearly five years... then fades, holes appearing suddenly like cigarette holes in crackling, onion-thin paper... then nothing. Only that frightening, gaping nothingness I shy away from again, accompanied by an irrational fear.
My sudden movement hasn't gone unnoticed. I can feel Seifer's gaze on me and I calm noticeably under his eyes. Part of that is reflex, conditioned by years of presenting a calculated image. Part of that is instinctive... because of who it is. *That* triggers something, a lightning-flash of memory, I try to grasp it but it's gone as soon as it comes, flitting back away to vanish among its brethren in the darkness. It makes me dizzy. I feel cold, chilled, alone. My reaction is instinctive. I reach out for warmth.
10:21 AM
(He said)
I can sense her uncertainty, radiating out from her in waves, and I squeeze her hand reassuringly. I still can't quite realize this is real. Even the impending battle with Ultimecia couldn't halt the rush of emotion I felt when Quistis placed her hand trustingly in mine. It's the little things that get you, I've heard. I've wanted her for so long yet I still aren't prepared for even so simple an act as holding hands while taking a walk.
Not a walk. A march. A mission.
And she's still upset about something.
"Quistis?" I wait for her to look at me, feet still marching automatically, one-two one-two, years of SeeD training means we're perfectly in step. "What's wrong?" I have to bite my tongue to keep from adding anything I shouldn't. Like a pet name. I mentally slap myself and order me more focused.
She sighs, a little uncomfortably, and instead of answering chooses to ask. "What was your childhood like?"
She sounds wistful; I'm instantly wary. This isn't good. She's not supposed to dwell on things like childhood yet. But who am I to say that? I traveled back to change things. Well, they've changed all right. But until Ultimecia is defeated-- until things resume their natural course-- too much knowledge is still dangerous. Until things resume their natural course... it may be too late. Even before I came back, it may have been too late. I can only try to put things back the way they were. The right way. The wrong way. How many other pasts for history to take?
"I'm an orphan," I begin, feeling my way cautiously through the footpaths of memory. I've solid ground but she's skirting quicksand, looking thus far in vain for the safe path through. "I don't remember my parents. Matron told me they died when I was very young." No details. It's better that way. Less chance of... "I came to Garden when I was twelve. It was just... the thing to two. There were five other kids from the orphanage that went too. Not all of them to Balamb, though." No mention of Ellone. Keep her out of it, even numerically.
Quistis was staring at me. Her look send a chill right through me. Not sadness or pity or even memory, as might be expected. Instead a horrible, dawning suspicion.
"'Matron is in Timber,'" she quoted softly. Flatly.
Oh, Hyne.
"You said 'Matron is in Timber.'"
I've slipped up.
"Why us, I asked you."
She's made the connection.
"Six children you said. Not all went to Balamb Garden, hmmm? But perhaps *four* of them did?"
Awful realization.
"Then a transfer student arrives from Trabia Garden, and suddenly these carefully laid-plans you allude to change."
I tried to protect you from this...
"We don't have an exchange program with Galbadia Garden."
I've failed. As with so many other things in my life, I've failed.
"If we did, would there be a sixth person involved in all this?"
I didn't want this for you. Not yet. Such disillusionment. I wanted to spare you this knowledge. Of what has become of our childhood. Of what we have become. Of what we have lost.
One slip of the tongue.
I was right to be afraid.
10:22 AM
(She said)
He closes his eyes, trusting his feet and our linked hands to keep him on the path.
It's all the answer I need.
That's why us.
But if it's such a simple reason, that we were once under the care of a woman who now needs our help in return, then why all the secrecy? Why not just tell us? Why make the mission top secret?
There's something else going on here, there's something you're not telling me, there's something I still don't understand. Something that has to do with my empty memory.
"Why can't I remember anything? Why keep all this hidden?"
It's his turn to sigh, now, and the release of air sounds oddly sad. "I'm sorry, Quisty." The nickname is familiar and foreign at the same time; was I called that, once? "You know too much already. You've forgotten for a reason."
He must know I'm not one to be satisfied with that kind of an answer, especially if he's known me as far back as all that.
If he's known me... that long... then...
Oh, Hyne, help me.
"Why did you do it?"
I can feel him tense beside me, green-eyed gaze shifting warily. I can practically hear him thinking "What now?"
But that's not what I'm getting at. "Act like you did. If it's true... it makes a nasty sort of sense... then why did you behave that way? You fought with Squall, teased Zell, you constantly disrupted my class... I can understand you hated it but..." I stop abruptly, gulping air to hold down a rising tide of betrayal. he *did* hate my class, he'd gone out of his way countless times to tell me how much he despised me. And yet it had felt so good when he kissed me. It felt so good to walk down the road to Balamb with him, holding hands... no. I was right to stop liking him. I was right to distrust him, this arrogant, cocky bastard who expected me to believe him when he fed me this ridiculous story. The fact that I'd done so up till now only galled me more. I snatched my traitorous hand from his and stopped in the middle of the road, irresolute. There was a chance, however slight, that these orders really did come from Cid. If they did, if this woman really did need my help, I should go on for the mission's sake. I *am* a professional. But why shouldn't he have lied about this? It makes a sick kind of sense, I can see it all fitting together despite the gaps in my memory, I know he didn't mean me to make that connection. But he's clever. I don't know what to do, what to believe. I'm cast adrift, bobbing alone on a sea of doubt. Darkness surrounds me, isolates me and I can't see the light.
10:23 AM
(He said)
She pulls away from me and I want to cry out, it's all falling apart and I'm losing her even as I stand here. I can feel her fragile trust in my dying, I can see she's walling herself away. Don't, Quistis, you'll only hurt yourself, you can't live alone. Don't shut me out, please, it's not what you think. I won't let this happen. The world isn't prepared for what I can do but it's the only way I have left to reach her and letting her go was never and option. It's about time this change worked in my favor. The world can accommodate this.
That doesn't make it any less dangerous.
I can *feel* Ultimecia's attention being caught as I reach for the last of the powers she'd bequeathed me. They've been fading, out of sync with this time, they don't belong here. But they're not yet completely gone. I touch the remaining pool and guide it, gently, towards Quistis.
Her reaction is immediate. She straightens abruptly, eyes widening, focused inward. I'm trying to hurry, feeling Ultimecia's questing gaze clear from Timber, searching out the source of the power flare I'm generating. A terrible risk. But I can't bear the alternative.
With one final mental *push*, the last pathway is rebuilt. I fling the power away, metaphorically, disassociating myself from it as fast as I can. Just in time. A tense minute later her search passes over me, still frustrated. I take a deep breath of relief and reach for Quistis, forgetting caution in the need to know she's still here with me. I'll make it all right. No matter what.
10:24 AM
(She said)
My eyes are wide open but I don't see anything around me. I'm watching home movies in my own head, old memories long buried coming to light, wonderful, intangible. Quezacotl is beating his wings irritably in my mind, complaining of having to build new pathways to get out, but I pay him no mind, too caught up in a vision of what was.
Scenes flicker before my eyes but what I really feel is the emotions, as if they were recorded more clearly by a child's mind. Laughter comes through the most, the clearest; creativity, treasured secrets, fireflies and snacktime and bedtime stories. Happiness. Contentment. Reassurance.
Everything Seifer told me is the truth.
I feel like laughing with the giddiness of it all, and I do, snuggling into Seifer's arms like I sued to on cold winder nights, when we'd sprawl on the lawn and watch the stars come out while listening to Matron's soft clear voice tell stories of faraway lands like Esthar and Shumi Village. It was friendly then. Platonic. Now it's anything but.
He's breathing hard. Somehow he did this for me, gave me this precious gift. History puts everything in focus. Including my emotions.
I feel young, giddy, and in love.
This time it was I who kissed him.
Which event occurred roughly three seconds before the wild T-Rexuar attacked.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ooooh, I'm evil. I should probably join the Proud Club of People Who Like Cliffhangers Too Much. But then, I only like inflicting them. I don't like reading them. Regular little hypocrite, aren't I? No cliffhanger next time, I promise, if that helps. And the next chapter will be out... oh, probably Wednesday, assuming you all review me appropriately. If I see over fifty reviews I might be able to have it out tomorrow... wink wink nudge nudge... just go ahead and tap that lilac box down there.
Lyaka ^^