© 2002 Copyright Original Storyline by Gold (e-mail: goldenstarlight@hotmail.com)

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft.

The Dish: One Angsty Seiftis

Part Eight: One Hefty Dollop of Grief

It was too late.

They flew doctors in from Esthar, Galbadia, Trabia, Balamb, Dollet and even Fisherman's Horizon. From all corners of the world, Balamb Garden's SeeDs broke with protocol and rules, and sent for all manner of medical specialists. In all of Garden's history—or that of any other Garden's—nobody had received such special treatment. But all was in vain. Each specialist shook his or her head. Each gave a different verdict, but with the same conclusion: Quistis Trepe would not live more than four hours. She was lucky to have survived the trip to the nearest Esthar hospital.

Four hours!

Seifer Almasy clenched his teeth, curled his hands into tight, bitter fists of misery, and tried to screw his head into the hospital wall. All those hours, days, months, years spent with her by his side, and he had never once treated her as she deserved. Not once. He had defied her, mocked her to her face, insulted her every which way he could, ridiculed her—yes, he had ridiculed her a thousand times over—and, his final insult to her, to drop her on the floor as she struggled for her life in his arms.

He had failed her for the last time.

She would never come back—he would never fail her again. He would never have the chance to succeed for her.

Seifer buried his face in his hands as he continued trying to shove himself headfirst into the wall. He wanted to kill himself. As soon as she died, he'd find the nearest cliff, slice himself open with Hyperion and fall off it. He didn't deserve a resting place. He deserved to be thrown into the ocean like the foul, loathsome demon that he was. Seifer uttered a harsh sob. He had never cried in his life and this was the first time he was so close to tears. It was as if his gunblade was already slicing him to pieces. If he lived, he didn't think he could bear it—not Quistis—not golden-hearted, beautiful, incomparable Quistis, his Quistis. The best die young. Seifer gave another bitter sob as a tear ran down his cheek and stained his gloves.

He was not the only one. The corridor outside Quistis' room was filled with the sounds of weeping. Squall's head was so low that it nearly touched his knees, and his fingers were locked together with Rinoa's. Rinoa's pretty face was red and swollen, the result of her crying for the past hour since the bad news was broken to them. She was sitting disconsolately at Squall's feet, worn out, her head resting against his knees and her eyes were glazed over. Selphie was in very little better state, tears running down her cheeks as she berated herself for her inability to save Quistis. Irvine was rocking her in his arms, speaking gently in her ear, but the strain on his face told how he was trying to cope with his own deep-seated grief. Zell Dincht was sitting silently on the floor, his girlfriend (a new SeeD who used to work in the library) curled up next to him, her head tucked comfortably under his chin as she held on to him, her eyes dark with worry.

But their pain, Seifer thought, was incomparable to his. They had cherished Quistis' moments with them. They had treated her like their best friend, their sister and their confidante. They had made her laugh so many times and given her joyful memories. They had never neglected her, insulted her or tried to hurt her. They had nothing to reproach themselves for, whereas he was sunk in a hell he had made for himself.

And then the door to Quistis' room opened and Dr. Kadowaki, summoned from her labours by Squall Leonhart, came out.  

"She's awake," announced Dr. Kadowaki.

"Does that mean—doesn't that mean she'll live?"

"She will live, won't she? I mean, now that she's awake?"

"Can we see her?"

Dr. Kadowaki held up one hand. "I'm sorry. No, it does not mean she will live. It's what we call a last rally—a final attempt at life. It never lasts long, I'm afraid."

There was a pause.

"Can we—can we see her?" murmured Selphie tremulously. "Please?"

"Let me see her first." Seifer pushed his way forward and fixed haunted, red-rimmed eyes on the doctor's face. "Please. I—I need to tell her some—some things…"

Dr. Kadowaki hesitated. Finally, she said gently, "I'm sorry, but she only wishes to see one person. She specifically requested for someone." The doctor turned to the couple standing not far off. "Mrs Kramer, Quistis wants to see you."