In Who's Name? Chapter 17: Detective Quistis, a final fantasy viii fanfic

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft.

Title: In Who's Name?

Part 17: Detective Quistis

Quistis Trepe stood in front of a small, whitewashed building in the city of Balamb, looking up at it. A cloud moved over the sun and she blinked slightly. It was a harmless-looking area, with small businesses scattered here and there. She had already passed two grocers, a newsagent's and a hairdressing salon. The street was quiet, although not what one would call deserted, and the people were the rather unusual sort found in Balamb—reserved, law-abiding and pleasant. Quistis executed an enormous yawn. She was very tired and had a class in about an hour's time, but there was no one else who could help her. Rinoa was off somewhere and Fujin must have switched off her mobile phone, because all Quistis got in her attempts to contact the silver-haired girl were met by a polite electronic response: 'THE SYSTEM IS NOT RECEIVING A RESPONSE FROM THE SUBSCRIBER'S MOBILE PHONE. PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER.' It was very difficult not to be frustrated and annoyed under the circumstances.

Quistis mounted the narrow flight of stairs leading to the Ambar Di Fashions office, which, according to an online directory of places, was located on the third and highest floor of the building. Quistis would have preferred to make her enquiries by telephone, but the person who had answered the 'phone had barked, "Wrong number!" and hung up on her before she could say anything else.

There was something unusual about the whole floor, Quistis realised, glancing around when she had reached the uppermost floor. There were three doors, all equidistant from one another, each looking eerily similar and yet different. They were of the same size and design, although they were painted in different colours: white, cream and wood-brown. The metal plates on the doors were also similar, all shining brass, with tiny black lettering. Quistis scanned the three doors, adopting a puzzled expression in case she was suddenly spotted snooping around. Her bewilderment became very real as soon as she had read the names on the three brass metal plates.

Ambar Di Fashions.

Incheyon Traders Pte. Ltd (Balamb).

Garden Software Co. Pte. Ltd (Balamb).

How very peculiar—all three names had been present on the floppy disk! How very peculiar!

"Hey, who are you?" demanded a gruff voice from behind. "What are you doing here?"

Quistis spun around. Behind her stood a short, well-built man with a scowling expression on his tanned face. He was dressed neatly in a rather wrinkled short-sleeved yellow shirt and corduroys. Something about him did not fit—he had the clothing and style of a civilian, but his manner and air spoke like a trained soldier.

Quistis held up a file. "I'm—I'm Chase Peter," she fibbed rapidly. "I'm a fashion designer. I'm looking for Armani Fashions."

"Ambar Di Fashions," corrected the man, scowling still further. "You don't have an appointment. I never heard of any Chase Peter."

"I thought…I just thought…I mean, I can just show my designs…do I have to have an appointment?" floundered Quistis, wide-eyed and bewildered-looking. She turned huge, pleading eyes on the short man.

"No, you can't just barge in," snapped the man. "Besides, we don't need anymore fashion designers. We already have four, and that's quite enough, thank you. Go and try some other company. Go on, now!"

"But—" began Quistis.

The man glared at her. "Look, go, okay? We don't need any more designers. The ones we have are quite fine. Go and try another firm!" He stalked past her, entered the door labelled 'Ambar Di Fashions', and slammed the door shut. There was an audible 'click', like the sound of a lock.

Quistis pasted a hopeless expression on her face and turned to go, dragging her feet as she went. She allowed her shoulders to slump as she walked out of the building and did not drop her ditzy persona until she was safely at the Balamb train station, where she ducked quickly into a restroom and considered her choices.

It had been a pure stroke of luck that she had decided to go in civilian clothes rather than her usual battle gear outfit. Quistis frowned. Nevertheless, she could have been easily recognised. After all, her picture had been splashed all over the newspapers for years, thanks to the Ultimecia affair. Quistis took out her handy little pocket compact and studied her face in it. Well, what was done could not be undone. Something extremely fishy was going on, and what price the fact that the three offices all had names which appeared on the little floppy disk?

Quistis walked out of the restrooms. She stood near the train tracks and glanced around. It appeared that she was alone. She took out her mobile phone and dialled Xu's number.

"Xu? This is Quistis."

"I know. Hi."

"Uh, I know this is short notice, but I need help. I have a class in forty-five minutes but I won't be able to make it. Can you take over for me until about three?"

"Yes, but what are you doing?"

"Just something," Quistis answered vaguely.

Xu made an exasperated sound. "All right. I won't ask any questions, then. How soon will you be back?"

Quistis thought for a moment. "I don't know. I should be back before three. I'm going to FH to look for something."

"FH?" Xu sounded puzzled.

"Never mind. Thanks, Xu! I'll take over your classes for you next time round."

Next, Quistis left a message on Rinoa's answering machine back at the dark-haired girl's dorm.

'Rin, this is Quistis. Do you remember the floppy disk Fujin brought the other day? It's in my drawer, the first drawer of my desk in the staff room. Can you look through it? Beware, there are viruses.'

Then she was off to the port, to catch the next boat to the peaceful little town of Fisherman's Horizon.