---Disclaimer: Everything is STILL, incredulously, © Square. Would you fancy that?

~

"Hyne, it's like deja-vu," Squall muttered as he stepped into the ballroom, boots thudding and echoing on the vacant dance floor.

"I know," an all-too familiar, soft voice said quietly from a shadowy bench. Squall felt himself stiffen involuntarily; his brain was confused to the point that he was both loathing and needing Rinoa at the same time, like a battle to see which side would outlast the other. He quickly looked away from her, focusing his gaze out a window instead. He heard her sigh, and the soft click of her refined boots hit the wood, unlike the dull pounding of the rubber soles of his boots. Her duster swished slightly in the still air; even he, mostly uncaring to all things delicate, could hear the material swirling gently through the quiet.

"What did you want to see me for?" He said, still avoiding her gaze and landing it instead on the fascinating wood grain in the floor. He rubbed one arm, trying to bring life back to it; it had numbed when he heard her voice. He could almost feel the vibrations in the air as she clasped her hands before her.

"To apologize. I was really unfair to everyone here, and it wasn't right of me. I just . . . needed to get away. It doesn't bother the rest of you that much because you weren't gifted with these powers; it just sits on your shoulders like deteriorating weight. 'Of course, I'm SeeD, I'm a hero, I'm used to this.' Well, it's not like that for me, it's -" Squall cut her off by simply bringing his gaze sharply up to meet hers; her voice fell dead in her throat, and her own soft brown orbs held a look of subtle terror.

"You're completely wrong; don't talk about things you don't understand!" He said angrily, sweeping his arm through the air. "Just because you weren't strong enough to handle a little bit of attention doesn't mean you can pull the pity act on me. No matter how deeply I care about you, I can't stand that you would try to wriggle out of it by using your Sorceress powers as an excuse. That doesn't make what you did, no matter how insignificant it is to others, more bearable to me, or Zell, or Quistis, or anyone else here. You're as much family as we are to each other, and in Garden, lame excuses like that just doesn't cut it." He seemed appalled that he had sunk so low as to use 'lame' in his own everyday speech, but that didn't erase the defiant look in his eyes. If anything could make them flare up more than something out to harm Rinoa, it was a stupid, unworthy technicality that could make a difference in the world.

Rinoa was deathly silent for several minutes following his outburst, although he obstinately refused to lower his gaze from her. She had drawn her own eyes to the floor, rubbing her arm in the same way that he had been hardly three minutes before, one knee twitching nervously as if she was on the verge of running as far from Garden as possible.

"I . . . I didn't, I mean, you . . . everyone here, they . . ." She seemed to have lost the ability to form complete sentences, and her throat kept clenching and unclenching, as if she were swallowing without stop. He noticed now the nervous trembling of each finger now, clutching convulsively at her arm; the skin around where she was gripping had turned white.

She looked up at him desperately, as if assuming that he would swoop down and say, 'Oh, Rinny, it's okay, I don't mind that you ran off with a pathetic excuse and you've waltzed back trying to act like nothing's happened; c'mere, I wanna give you a hug.' However, she realized with a small, choked sob, Squall wasn't like that. In fact, she had no idea where the image came from; she didn't know anyone like that.

"Edea . . . spoke to the headmaster of Trabia for me, and convinced him to let me stay another week here, so I'm not due back till next Friday. But . . . I think I'll go early," She said meekly, turning her eyes away from him again. She had let go of her arm and was now anxiously drawing a loose thread from her light-blue duster, pulling out the carefully knitted stitches that she would later regret as the light overcoat began to fall apart, literally, at the seams.

"Fine," Squall said emotionlessly, turning around and folding his arms. When Rinoa half-lifted her eyes, all she could see was the back of his head, the fur ruff around his collar, and the overlapping belts around his waist.

"Fine," She repeated in a watery voice, turning around. Now they stood, not two feet away from the other, back-to-back as if entering a duel. Squall noted dully that his headache had reached skull-splitting point. He ran a gloved hand through his hair, marching a few paces away from her. She didn't move, but merely let her steady trickle of customary tears leak from her eyes, hoping that, by some miracle, he would turn around and embrace her after he had saved her . . .

She sank to the ground, sobbing openly as the heavy doors to the ballroom closed with a deafening, final sound, echoing loudly in the near-empty room as she lay on her side, clutching her legs and curled into a ball, feeling her emotions running out over her cheeks. He had been right; he usually was, anyway. Now nothing was really worth it, everything that she had fought for . . . lost in a waterfall of tears.

~

"Here," Quistis said automatically, as if the process of distributing pills were something she did on a regular basis. The blonde brushed a strand of sweaty hair out of her face before shoving two pills down her own throat and forcefully tipping half a glass of water down her throat. Squall had done the same, although he had tossed the pills into the water before he drank an entire cupful, something the Instructor had never managed to do after taking medicine. Xu had carefully placed each pill individually on the back of her tongue and took delicate, evenly-measured sips of water to wash them down her throat, and soon all three high officials had groaned in satisfaction, spread somehow over random pieces of furniture in Squall's office.

The Commander, of course, had chosen his fairly oversized leather chair, scooting it back several inches to let his legs have full spread until his feet were rested firmly on the desktop, the rubber soles making marks on the distorted blotter. Quistis was stretched over the faded burgundy couch along one wall, squinting at her hand as if trying to discern a year-old cut from the rest of the bruises and wounds on her scarred hand. Xu had taken the two stiff-backed chairs that were seated conveniently before Squall's desk and plunked down into one, stretching her legs over the other. In fact, they looked unmistakably like the teenagers they were in this state; Quistis looked around nineteen (although the lines at the corners of her eyes could have suggested at least twenty-one, if not older) with her sweaty hair streaming everywhere and skirt not pressed neatly, but wrinkled and mashed in her unceremonious position. Squall had his hands behind his head and his eyes closed, giving him the impression of a true seventeen-year-old, if not sixteen; he always seemed to look younger when asleep, or at least in the position of asleep. Xu's eyes were open, yet they were crossed in the haze of heat that had seemed to befallen Garden, and her stringy hair rained down over her face and made her appear like a spoiled, rich child whose air conditioning had been punctured.

They all sat like there for at least an hour, not moving a muscle, completely content to let the after-effects of their headache remedies sink in and lull them slowly into a heated sleep, and soon they were all dozing uncomfortably when a short knock on the door roused the closest one to wakefulness.

"What?" Xu called irritably to the door, eyes still closed fast in a vain attempt to reclaim sleep.

The door opened fully and a disgruntled looking SeeD stepped in, uniform askew and dark hair twisted up into a knot on the back of her head. She was holding a crisp, folded letter between her ring and middle finger, although a foot away from her body, as if it were a bomb or a poisonous snake.

"Message," She said shortly, tossing the letter into Xu's lap and folding her arms impatiently, slanting her pose to accommodate the heat. The brunette impatiently slit the letter with a pin on her sleeve, shaking it open and reading it hurriedly. She groaned in a breathy way, as her mouth was quite dry, and tossed the message unconcerned onto the floor. Squall's eyelids fluttered but did not open; Quistis shifted effortlessly on the narrow couch.

"Thanks, Rain," She said absently, waving for the SeeD to go and closing her eyes once more. Rain scoffed loudly and disappeared, slamming the door angrily behind her. Squall's eyes opened, and he stared at Xu blearily, his gaze betraying his thoughts. "Rinoa. Wants a car to take her to the train station tomorrow morning. You approve?" She said lazily, opening one eye to show the Commander that she was paying attention to his sleepy stare.

He shook his head, closing his eyes again. "Make 'er walk," He slurred, effortlessly falling back asleep again. Xu followed suit, wriggling further into her makeshift bed.

~

"I'm sorry about what he said to you."

The voice startled Rinoa out of her protective shell of tears, and she raised her head half-heartedly only to groan and thrust it back into her arms. Seifer was staring at her with an expression so alien to his face that it looked almost scary. His arms were hung loosely at his sides, his trench coat flung off in the sudden riot of heat.

"But you know . . . he was right about a lot of things. You can't take it all in black and white, Rinoa; you have to face facts. You acted stupidly and it made an effect on him. Apologizing isn't gonna fix this."

Apparently he took the Sorceress' silence to mean for him to continue, and, without invitation, he strode over to her huddled and disheveled form. Sinking slowly to his ankles beside her fetal-positioned body, he laid a soothing hand on her arm; not in the usual way he would have, but as a support, something equally foreign to his usual sneering nature.

"You have to talk to him in another setting, I bet, or get someone to talk to him but with your words. Like Quistis or Zell; somebody he trusts. And at the moment, deary, you're on Squall Leonhart's deadbeat list." Rinoa sat up quickly and gave him a sharp glare, but he continued, undaunted. "You gotta ease him outta that, get him back into the state he was with you. I admit, he's been a lot more improved since my training days, but he's not nearly as open as he was when you were here. Just . . . slide him back into the way things were, and everything'll work out fine. Trust me," He added as an afterthought, gifting her a small yet sincere smile.

Although still wary of the ex-Knight's motives, she sat up, allowing herself to fall against his shoulder and to suppress whatever disgust she had felt towards this formerly vile man as he wrapped one arm loosely around her waist. Even though he wasn't speaking anymore, she found that the silence was more comforting than his words; just the mere presence of another human that had contact with her was far more uplifting than a few sentimental speeches.

And, for the first time in nearly a year, she felt a heated rush of gratitude towards Seifer Almasy.

~

Hopefully that chapter was better. Much better. Spent much more time on it, and half wasn't written in the dark, and it wasn't evilly confusing. Yay me!

Review Button: No one is clicking me anymore, they think that I'm all happy now . . . nooo, more reviews, please please please! You make Ellyrianna soooo happy when you review; you like the story, don't you? *sniff*