In Who's Name? Chapter 2: About Seifer Almasy, a final fantasy viii fanfic

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Characters and universe borrowed from Final Fantasy VIII.

Thank you very much for your reviews. This is my first foray into the world of FFVIII fanfiction and I'm awfully bucked by the reviews I've been getting. Thank you all!

Title: In Whose Name?

Part 2: About Seifer Almasy

The whole thing was just so weird. His name was Seifer Almasy and he was stuck in some place called Baa-lamb Garden. Or Balamb Garden, but it was all Baa-lamb to him. It sounded familiar—heck, almost everything sounded familiar to him nowadays. He supposed it meant that he was somewhere he ought to be. No, what was really out of this world was the history they told him. It was the blonde goddess, Quistis Trepe, who'd sat down and spoken to him about it. She had been at it for too long, nattering on about seeds (plants, maybe? But she didn't look like the gardening sort), and soldiers, mercenaries, posse, disciplinary committee, sorceresses, magic, possession, orphans, drowning…his head was spinning.

"I'm what? I'm a fugitive? No, wait—an ex-fugitive? SeeD? What seeds? This place doesn't look like an academy for gardeners to me…Sorceress…what's a sorceress? As in 'abracadabra, alakazing, alakazoom'?! What the hell?! I did what? I helped an evil sorceress? I was possessed by one?! Two years ago? Is that your excuse for keeping me locked up in this Hyne-forsaken place…whoever Hyne is?!"

Quistis Trepe had looked like she wanted to strangle him. "Seifer Almasy, would you just shut up and listen for once! Without interrupting! Hyne, do I have to teach that to you all over again?"

That sounded familiar too, as if she had said those words a score of times to him in exactly the same irritated tones, with precisely the same half-exasperated, half-angry look on her face. He folded his arms and scowled. Quistis tugged glumly at a strand of her perfectly-coiffed hair. He wondered what it'd look like messed up and tumbling to her shoulders, and with those steel-rimmed glasses off her pretty nose. She would be hot…not that she wasn't already, but she seemed too icy, too controlled. It would be nice to see her wild and dishevelled for a change…

Quistis took a deep breath. "Let's go over this again and try not to interrupt this time. Your name is Seifer Almasy. You are twenty years old." She felt like a kindergarten teacher.

Seifer snorted. "You've said that already. I know how to spell my name, thanks, so we can skip that."

Quistis clenched her teeth. "I said, listen and do not interrupt. Five days ago, you nearly drowned in the sea during a storm. Fortunately, you were rescued in time and brought here. You probably hit yourself somewhere on the head because you came in with a concussion, amongst other injuries. You have been in a coma for the past few days and you are very lucky to be alive! And we are not locking you up here. This, for Hyne's sake, is not a mental institution. Do I look mental to you?"

"That's begging the answer—yes."

Quistis was on her feet before he could blink, eyes snapping. "Right. That's it."

"What, you gonna put me in a straitjacket—" He stopped as she stuck her nose into his face, very blue eyes boring into his. Whatever scent she was wearing, he loved it. But he wisely kept his mouth shut—there was a steely gleam in those eyes and he wasn't quite sure he could handle that cruel whip with bare hands.

"You can do whatever you want now despite what happened almost two years ago, thanks to a pardon," she told him, her voice soft and icy. "So shut up and use your brains for once. You have a second chance at life, so don't you dare screw up this time, Almasy. I'm not having you fail again, you hear me?"

He stared at her. "What's this? I'm your what—personal mission?"

She blew the breath out of her cheeks as she sat back, her hair flying in the short puffs of air. He wondered if her kisses tasted like her breath felt—warm and sweet, and utterly irresistible…

"Headmaster said I was to make sure you understood things. Matron said I was to make sure you were well before Dr. Kadowaki let you out of the Infirmary. Dr. Kadowaki said I was to make sure you rested and did not exert yourself too much. So yes, it's a personal mission unless I want dire consequences on my head. And I like my head the way it is, thank you very much. I couldn't care less if you disagree." She eyed him narrowly, her tone changing swiftly from grim to suspicious. "I don't like the look on your face."

He reached out to touch the blond hair framing her face and found himself smiling softly at the surprised look on her face. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "I like your hair too."

Her cheeks flushed a very faint pink and he smirked, but then caught a brief flash of pain in her eyes before they narrowed again as she drew further back and pushed his hand away.

"You'll get wrinkles if you squint like that at me over and over again," he pointed out, not unkindly. He wondered what had caused that flash of pain.

"Whatever," she grumbled, getting up. She stood looking down at him and he fancied that she looked pensive.

"Get well soon," she said simply. "Maybe later…" She hesitated, a half-thoughtful, half-enigmatic expression on her face.

"Maybe later what?"

She shook her head, still looking down at him, that enigmatic expression irking him all the more. "Maybe later, when you can sit up properly, I'll bring you something to read…something that'll tell you a little bit about your history. I hope you enjoy your stay here," she said. Then she turned and left the room.

" 'Enjoy your stay'?" he grumbled to himself, eyeing his clean and medicinal surroundings with distaste. "It's not as if this is a hotel. Who does she think she is anyway?"

It occurred to him suddenly that he really hadn't the faintest idea who or what she was, and what her role was in this crazy place that was called a Garden and didn't resemble a park in the least. Hyne, he didn't even know who he really was or his role in this crazy place. Hyne, nothing she said seemed to fit, and yet everything seemed to fit. Hyne, as crazy as her story was, it hung together, and yet…

His brow furrowed as he suddenly realized something else. For all the information she had tried to squeeze into him in the space of fifteen minutes, Quistis Trepe had forgotten one important bit of information.

Who or what was Hyne?