PeRFecT
Written and © by Briar Eve aka Mr. McFrugalshtein
Chapter 3
It wasn't that Quistis was afraid to enter the cafeteria- no- she was simply paranoid of any setting that could prove hazardous to her already-crumpled personal image. Every single turn brought on a new embarrassment. It was as if Galbadia Garden was attempting to deconstruct her front….nah. She dismissed the idea for metaphysical mumbo-jumbo. She needed dinner.
Quistis took a seat at the Faculty table between an rickety, elderly gentleman and a middle-aged, red-headed woman. The white-haired man was in the process of bringing his quivering spoon to his lips, however, the gesture was in vain- he spilled most of the soup in the process. His crisp white dress-shirt now showed drops of chicken broth and carrots. The sight brought a soft sigh to Quistis' lips. On her left side, the red-headed woman was ranting belligerently, waving her muscular arms over her head and gesticulating madly. The dark-haired man across the table was nodding, but could offer nothing. As Quistis opened her packet of crackers, she turned her attention to the 'conversation'.
"I'm honestly going mad. Once my transfer goes through, I am out of here! Even Trabia is better than this hell hole! How can Caraway expect us to produce at this rate? Besides- these kids are too good for his ranks. Hells Bells- it's the politics. With Vinzer Deling stepping up to the Galbadian presidency, the country'll be in a state of turmoil. His father was bad enough! No- I refuse to take my senior class for a 'field trip' to the missile base so they can load the cannons. This is sick. Repulsive. What the hell is going on here? I'd rather be where it snowed than where it rains gun fire." She paused to take a breath and shook her head. The SeeD across the table took the opportunity to input.
"Martine and I took the upper level unarmed fighting class to Deling City yesterday so they could 'test' their fighting skills on a student protest group. Those poor academics didn't have a prayer. Never seen so many stretchers…."
"Since we're comparing . . ." Martine sat himself down at the head of the table near the red-headed woman, placing his desert-filled tray in front of him. He inhaled a forkful of cream pie. "I took Irvine into Dollet yesterday for some target practice." He took another bite and snorted. The participants grew grim.
"That's what- the sixth time in . . . oh, say- the last three months?" The dark-haired SeeD asked, leaning in.
"Seventh, actually. . ." Martine corrected, spooning out some green gelatin. "I sent him to Timber last weekend- He. . . had. . .uh. . . . a tournament."
"Shit. He could've been killed!" the red-haired woman roared quietly. "Where'd the other sniper come from?"
"Freelance. Personally. . . I think it was Deling. He's testing us for something.. . 'Course, Irvine passed that one in a most gruesome way. . ."
"He needs to focus on his schoolwork, Martine, or he'll fail my class again." The elderly gentleman spoke up, mashing a cracker in his mouth.
"Out of my control." Martine stated simply and shrugged. The red-headed woman growled and attacked her soup and the dark-haired man sat silently, staring. He suddenly turned to Quistis.
"You're Quistis Trepe, aren't you?" Shocked, Quistis nodded dumbly. He smiled. "Y'know- you're kind of a legend to these kids-SeeD at fifteen, traveled through the ranks to be a top-notch Balamb SeeD. Now you're a qualified instructor. And you're only seventeen. These kids. . . really look up to you. Maybe. . . just maybe, you're what we need. What they need."
"Oh spare the sentimental drivel, Samah. She's here for a couple months, then she'll be back in Balamb where the SeeDs actually sprout and blossom. Here…they're just uprooted or eaten."
'This woman has more SeeD metaphors than Seifer has offensive comebacks. I swear. . .' Quistis acknowledged, glancing at the other woman firmly.
"I'll help as best I can." Quistis offered, finishing her bottle of imported water, relishing the clear taste of Balamb.
"Quistis, this is your first day. You haven't even taught yet- let's not get ahead of ourselves." Martine finished a slice of cheesecake. Quistis couldn't help but gape. The Headmaster wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Let's not discuss this any further. I realize everyone is upset, but we do need the governmental support- Financial support. We don't have the GFs that Balamb has, so we can't initiate the SeeDs, so we don't have the jobs. I don't want to hike tuition anymore- I can't. Besides- we really shouldn't be discussing this in the open, no matter how much we actually want to get caught. Clear?" His gaze was stern and he looked at each of them. The instructors nodded, grumbling, and went back to their dinner as Martine took his leave. Quistis took the opportunity to glance around the rather large room for her charge.
Seifer sat at the end of a large table, segregated from a large group of boys by three or four chairs. He was hunched over his meal and glared at anyone who looked at him the wrong way. Seifer was lost without the Disciplinary committee- his 'posse'. Raijin and Fujin were extensions of Seifer and he was their nucleus. She wondered how those two were managing without their leader.
Just then, Seifer's head jerked up and his glare shifted to another section of the cafeteria. Quistis followed his hostile gaze to the obvious source- Irvine, who had just sauntered into the room surrounded by giggling chiclets and worshipping wannabes. He was an idol in army boots and a cowboy hat. A little paradoxical. . . Irvine sat a few tables away from Seifer, and Quistis caught the Galbadian as he winked at Seifer who retaliated by intensifying his glare and bending his spoon in half. Quistis laughed internally- Seifer loved trite, overdone bullying tactics. She knew he believed that they reinforced his position, so he intermingled them with his own subtle actions. Irvine grinned and tipped his hat as he stuffed a French fry in his mouth. Then he returned his attention to the bevy of plastic dolls he had surrounding him, most of whom were willing to feed him those fries. Though her heart sank a little, she didn't allow her mind to come to any conclusions about Irvine. She didn't like to give into pre-conceptions or rumor. Except. . . what had Martine said about him? Irvine was a sniper- and a good one at that. Quistis had never met a Longshot before- they didn't have any at Balamb. No instructors to train them. And what had they said. . .? Target practice? Tournament? There were no sniper competitions in Timber- the idea was absurd. Then she realized it.
Irvine was an assassin. A busy one. A well-used one. No wonder he was such an asset to the Galbadian Army and Martine. It was a sad thought. Quistis herself had never killed another person- grats and rexaurs and such, yes- but never another human. Irvine was…what? Sixteen? How many had he killed? Been forced to kill? It was a sobering thought, as she returned her gaze to the cadet, who was busy balancing a French fry between his nose and mouth. He began to giggle, which caused the fry to tumble from it's perch and onto his uniform. Groaning, he pulled it off, and wiped the oil from his nose, while his crowd snickered and tittered. He was a fun-loving guy and a killer. What a schizophrenic life. Instructor Trepe. 'Huh, what?'
"Instructor Trepe? Um. . ." Instructor Samah jarred Quistis' reverie. She perked up, reverting into her façade.
"Yes, Instructor Samah?"
"I. . . just wanted to comment your student, Cadet Almasy. He is truly a gifted soldier."
"Ruthless and calculating. The boy's brilliant, but ignorant and dangerous." The red-haired woman snorted. "You, didn't have anything to do with that,did you?"
"No. I just got my instructor's license. He'll be in my class come September, when we return to Balamb."
"That boy needs discipline, Trepe. He has too much fire, too much anger and too many unrealistic dreams. He'll make a good dictator, if you Balamb folk aren't careful. And that's just what we need- and Almasian Fascism."
"He's troubled, but there is good in him." Samah countered positively. "He's smart and talented- direct him well and you'll have an amazing SeeD there, Quistis."
"He failed this year." Quistis whispered just loud enough for them to hear. She figured Samah would need to know a little background on why Seifer was here. "I. . . was the SeeD in charge of his test. It was a covert operation in Timber- we were to infiltrate the lair of a anti-government terrorist group and seize their lists of contacts and their agenda. The entire operation was planned, but Seifer strayed and inadvertently blew our cover. He just had to bully the guards for info. . . too anxious to relieve them of their PHS. We nearly lost our heads. . . . and we did manage to lose a cadet." She sighed and rubbed her temple. " There was an inquisition and Seifer was stripped of his credits for the year. He'll be eligible for candidacy at the end of next year."
"Like I said. We should watch him." The red-haired woman said emphatically.
"Evana. . .everyone makes mistakes. Don't be paranoid." Samah returned. A flash of white caught the corner of Quistis' eye as the cafeteria sprang to life with action.
"Trepe- your student has timed his belligerence to perfectly correspond with my point." Red-headed Evana pronounced, pointing to an enraged Seifer in mid-punch.
"Ah, Hyne!" Quistis jumped over the table and ran towards the massive crowd, several of the instructors close behind. There was no cheering, only the sounds of scrambling feet and murmurs of awe The instructors clawed their way through the mass, throwing student bodies from their path, when the action abruptly stopped. A wave of gasps shot through the crowd like a circuit, and when Quistis finally reached the crux of the situation, she realized why.
Seifer and Irvine. Quistis wasn't exactly surprised. But there they stood- weapons unleashed, both boys bloodied and battered, locked in a deadly embrace. Seifer had his gunblade pressed plane to Irvine's cheek, while Irvine's large-barreled gun was pressed to Seifer's forehead. Quistis found herself breathless. What the fuck was going on?
"Let's see how pretty you are without a nose, yee-haw. . . ." Seifer sneered, pressing hard against Irvine's soft cheek. But the Galbadian wasn't about to be outdone.
" Yeah, well- let's see how many smart comments ya make without a frontal lobe. . . ."
" That's enough!" Evana entered the ring and, without warning, tore the weapons from the startled cadets' hands. Resident SeeDs came in to separate the boys. While Irvine made no attempt at escape, Seifer lashed out at the SeeDs, who proceeded to drag him out kicking and howling. Quistis hurried to Irvine to. . . . uh, make sure he was unharmed.
"I'm okay, Instructor. Nothin' bandages and therapy can't fix." He gave her a wry grin though his purple eyes were dark with anxiety and fear.
"What happened, Irvine?" She pressed, still checking him over for imperfections. . . . abrasions. There were some, but nothing destined for scarring. She unconsciously stared at his face.
"Honestly- couldn't tell'ya. He kept glaring at me- I knew he was feelin' antsy, wanted to pick a fight. But I really don't know why. I'm not instigatin' or nothin'. It's like- he thinks it's funny to get us both in deep shit, ya'know?" Irvine's amiable countenance had been perverted into one of worry and anger. Very intense. 'This is the assassin Irvine, I bet. How brooding and serious. Perfect.'
"You didn't say anything?"
"Nu'uh, ma'am. I was just eatin' my dinner real quiet like, and made some comments to my friends. Then he just jumped up and started to come after me. What in Hyne am I supposed to do? He had his gunblade- I panicked. I'm sorry, Instructor Trepe."
"It's alright, Kinneas. As long as you're both okay." She reached up to brush a stray strand of auburn hair from his eye. The intensity vanished and a pert little smile appeared on his face. She removed her hand and looked at the ground- she was blushing she knew it.
"Well- thanks for your concern, Instructor Trepe."
"Quistis- Irvine. My name is Quistis."
"Alright then- Quisty." He grinned and she felt like smacking him. Or spanking him. She wasn't really sure. But she was sure that she needed to talk to Seifer. She pulled from Irvine's languorous gaze and glanced towards the exit.
"I. . . .need to talk to Mr. Almasy. . . ." Quistis began, then quickly ran from the cafeteria, after Seifer and his guards. Hyne- Irvine was making her crazy. What was wrong with her? 'ummmmm. . . .loneliness, depression, anxiety, isolation, upheaval. . . .pheromones. Dammit- when did I revert back to primeval teen-age urges? Focus, Quistis.'
She scurried through the halls after Seifer's troupe, stalking the sounds of their heavy boots on the granite floor. She met up with them in the elevator lobby.
"Instructor! Glad you could make it to my going away party!" Seifer beamed and clanked his metal handcuffs together. Handcuffs?
"Would you please remove the shackles from his wrists? They're highly unnecessary. He's not a criminal. Just an asshole." Quistis shook her head sadly at Seifer who grinned as they removed his bindings. The two SeeDs grabbed his arms roughly and shook him. Quistis put her hand up.
"Please. Are you taking him to see Headmaster Martine?" One soldier declared an affirmative. Quistis advanced.
"Then I'll take over from here. I am in charge of Seifer Almasy while he is here in Galbadia, so I will escort him so that we may both receive our respective punishments. I am armed and a highly trained SeeD, just like yourselves, so I am relieving you of your guard. Thank you." With a curt nod, Quistis grabbed Seifer's beefy arm and pulled him into the elevator. She pressed the button and crossed her arms. Seifer rubbed his wrists and sucked his cheek.
"Thanks, Instructor. Man- those guys were real assholes out there, eh? Chaining me like a . . . ."
"Can-it Seifer. I know what you're trying to do and it won't work" Quistis muttered matter of factly. He looked surprised.
"What do you mean, Instructor?" The elevator stopped. As Seifer began to advance, Quistis snaked her hand out and pressed the 'close door' button. She held it. " Trepe- what's. . . ."
"You're not going to get kicked out of here, Seifer. You're here for the summer. You are enrolled here, and you will finish these classes. If you don't- well, you'll probably never made SeeD. I will not let you waste this term." She wanted to shout, but she kept her tone firm. Then she noticed Seifer's visage, and began to lose it. He started to laugh.
"What? You think this is about. . . .Ah, shit, Instructor. I thought you knew me better than that. I wouldn't be at school if I didn't want to get these courses, ya know. Heh." He chuckled and leaned against the wall. 'uh….what?' Shocked and confused, Quistis gave him a puzzled look.
"Then why? Why do you keep attacking Kinneas? He hasn't even done anything to you. God sakes- Martine is going to suspend both of you. Do you realize that? What the hell is going on. . . ." Now Quistis was yelling. Still chuckling, Seifer slapped her hand from the button, causing the door to open. He strolled out.
"What the hell do you think? I'm fuckin' bored, Quistis. Irvine may not be Squall, but he's Galbadia's best. Soon…I'll be Galbadia's best."
A rival. Seifer needed a rival. God damn Seifer's competitive arrogance.
"He doesn't understand that, Seifer." They sat in Martine's office, in the exact same position as they had earlier that day, at seven fifty nine and forty seconds. Come to think of it, it was seven fifty nine and forty six seconds. Uncanny.
"Well then- he'd better wise up. Fuckin' pea-brained yokel. . . ." Seifer leaned back and stretched out his frame just as an enraged Martine emerged. He took one look at Seifer.
"You're suspended. Two weeks. Here you are. " He handed Seifer a file folder and card.
"What's this?" Seifer asked, flipping through the folder.
"You will be leaving for Timber tomorrow for those two weeks. The details of your mission are included, and your scout package will be delivered to your room tonight. Your superiors are SeeDs Dunkan and Westmut, and you will be receiving no recompense or salary for this mission. This is your punishment. Now- go to your dormitory. You are under house arrest for the next eleven hours. You are dismissed, Mr. Almasy."
It took a moment for Seifer to realize his situation. Then, disillusioned, he left without a word. Quistis couldn't help but watch him leave. How could a man be so dejected and so proud at the same time? Seifer Almasy was an enigma.
" Shanice- could you make an all-call for Irvine Kinneas over the P.A. please?" Martine's receptionist nodded and did as he requested. Martine motioned for Quistis to follow him into the office. Quistis followed and they sat, both on edge.
"Headmaster- I know why Seifer is acting this way, why he's bullying Irvine."
"Headmaster Cid had a speculation too." Martine spoke, pouring himself a glass of brandy. He offered her a glass. She declined. He shrugged. "Would you like to hear his take?"
"Of course. . . ."
"Cid thinks Seifer is looking for a rival in Irvine- a way to prove himself and define himself in a new setting. Irvine is our most prized cadet- therefore, Seifer must compare himself to this standard. Seifer needs the competition because of his lack of self esteem. Now. . . .Does this sound feasible, Instructor Trepe."
"Yes,sir." Quistis muttered sheepishly. "That's exactly it. Seifer's conscious of it too. In Balamb- he has a very intense rivalry with another gunbladesman. He says he's bored without a rival. He's. . . .well, naturally adversative, I guess."
"You're right. I think this assignment will do him good. Remind him of what SeeD is actually like and perhaps motivate him to work a little harder. Now. . .." Martine paused and cocked his head at an absurd angle. "Kinneas? Kinneas! Get the hell in here. . . .."
Irvine popped his head in the door, and sauntered in, taking a seat beside Quistis. She gave him a quick smile, and he returned the gesture with a nod.
"Were you listening to us?"
"No, sir, I was not. I just got here a second ago." Irvine removed his hat and smoothed out his hair. Quistis tried (and failed) to avert her attention. The sharpshooter's swollen eye had lost its puffiness and had turned a soft shade of purple-blue- a similar colour to his eyes. How strange.
"Good. Now. I have an assignment for you for tonight." Martine took another gulp of brandy. Irvine sighed and held out his hand.
"No- no folder." The Headmaster shook his head and poured himself another glass. "Just get your ass outside and start exterminating those plant-monsters with the tentacles, like I told you last week. No pay. This is part of your punishment."
"But it's almost dark. It's gonna take all night. . . .."
"Then you better get out there. Think twice before you pull your gun on a comrade."
"Headmaster, I. . . ."
"Go Irvine. And you're suspended for two weeks. No class. No pay." Martine was firm. Irvine helplessly shrugged and grabbed his hat. Getting up, he started for the door. "Tomorrow at eight o'clock a.m. Check in with me. And I better not hear about you going to any classes. . .."
"Whatever. See'ya Instructor Trepe. g'night." The cadet sauntered out, shoulders a little stooped and feet a little heavy. 'That's not right at all.' Quistis thought and turned to Martine.
"You really are lucky to have a cadet like that. One whose so gifted and so malleable and so. . ..selfless. You use these cadets like professional soldiers, don't pay them, and place them in ludicrous situations. Don't you feel a little responsible and desperately horrified?" 'ummm..huh? what the hell did I just say to my superior?' Quistis immediately regretted her words. But Martine smiled and nodded.
"Yes, Quistis. I feel terrible. But what can I do? We need to pay for things, so we need contracts. And kids like Irvine don't pay tuition, so they have to help pay for their living expenses somehow. I can't help it. He understands." Finishing his shot, Martine wiped his mouth and began to unwrap a mint. He popped it in his mouth and continued. "Besides- it's like work experience. This is what they're going to be doing for the rest of their lives, however tragic that may sound. Kids like Irvine and Seifer need this."
"What do you mean, 'kids like Irvine'?" Quistis asked, a little angered. What was he implying?
"Calm down, Quistis. What I mean is 'Garden-owned orphans'. Galbadia Garden adopted Irvine, just as Balamb Garden adopted Seifer Almasy and that Squall Leonhart boy. You do know about Seifer, don't you?"
Quistis nodded. She knew that Seifer and Squall were orphans, but she hadn't known they were owned by Garden. It was a sad thought.
"It's expensive to raise children, Quistis- Garden has to provide for its SeeDs somehow. The children can't do much, so it's up to the older cadets to help out mother Garden. I hope you understand my reasoning. That's why Cid sends out SeeD. Most children don't pay to come. And some have been here most of their lives. Irvine was seven. Some were younger. Believe me- we aren't trying to be heartless. We're just trying to preserve our home."
Quistis couldn't believe how open and forthright Headmaster Martine was being. She had been here twenty seven hours and forty three minutes, and she now understood many of the dark workings of Galbadia Garden. She was suddenly starting to feel important and included. She stood, crossing her arms, and peered out the window. Far below Quistis could see Irvine just heading out into the field, now clothed in his cowboy hat, cadet uniform and a suede and lambs wool duster. He was such a romantic sight. Her heart was palpitating. 'this. . . .kinship, is so strange. It's like I know him. Like I've always known him, but. . . . not in a trite, lovesick sort of way-though I can't deny that I may be degenerating into such a fool. God. . .. he is perfect though. Dammit. . ..that word again.
"Quistis?"
"Headmaster- would it be alright if I helped Irvine with his extermination assignment? I feel a little responsible for Seifer attacking him, so I believe that this is the least I can do." Quistis kept her voice measured and strong, mortally afraid that Martine would see through her. It felt like everyone could see through her. Especially Irvine. And even more so, Seifer. Martine shrugged and nodded.
"If you feel that way, I won't stop you. It would be nice if he got some sleep tonight, since we have business in Dollet tomorrow. Sure- thank you, Instructor Trepe."
She left Martine and Galbadia Garden, brandishing her whip. It made her feel a little dirty and very excited. She needed an adrenaline rush-no matter what form it came in.