Chapter Twenty
family
Selphie's blood was pounding in her ears, a faint rushing noise that she had attributed to the wind as she ran; but now she had stopped, panting, realizing that Balamb Garden was a really big place and that she had no idea of where to look first.
Shit, she repeated to herself and Quezacotl. Irvine ... where are you?
She spun into the first stairwell she could find and headed up, almost knocking two SeeD cadets to the floor as she leapt the steps two at a time. Skidding to a halt in front of Irvine's single, she hit the door with frantic fists: bambambam.
"Irvine?" she called, her voice quavering as her lungs shook to take in air. Every nerve in her body was on edge; first the stress from the Festival, then the realization that she was the worst best friend ever, then the sudden revelation that she had a family that was still out there; it was a state of alertness unlike any she had ever experienced. Selphie spent most of her life high on energy, but this was a horrible, nervous, dark sort of energy. She realized that it was making her panic, and she tried to breathe deeper.
Irvine wasn't in his room, obviously.
Selphie took off - trying to slow her steps, to pace them - towards the Cafeteria. Does he think I've forgotten him? She discarded the idea of the elevator, taking the stairs down two at a time and then vaulting over the last three, her vision narrowed with guilt and determination.
I'll never forget you again. I'll prove it.
Irvine wasn't in the cafeteria either, though a table full of lingering students craving midnight hotdogs gave Instructor Selphie a collection of odd looks as she spun into the Caf, gave it a wild glance, and then left again.
The Quad. He used to sleep in there, she thought wildly, turning the corner. But it was night; the benches were all empty. No reclining cowboy.
"Bugger," Selphie grunted. She forced herself to pause, breathe. Yes, breathe. This wasn't a mission; there was no Darik, holding a weapon at her throat; there was no emergency.
Let me give you a memory, Selphie
"Oh Hyne," she whispered, choking on the memory itself. Irvine's voice. She was a horrible friend, a horrible family for her cowboy. She had to find him.
But - he had given her the memories - and then left. Rode off into the sunset.
"Why weren't you there?" Her whisper echoed through the empty Quad. "Where did you go?"
She hadn't forgotten, but she had - left him out. Inadvertently, but she had. And the first and foremost thing she had learned about Irvine Kinneas was - that he hated to be left out.
His voice again, as if her subconscious wanted to make her feel even more miserable: It just hurts to be the one on the outside. The only one who really remembers. You've all forgotten what were the happiest days of my life. I don't want... I don't want to get forgotten again.
"Think, Seff," she murmured to herself. "Where would Irvine go ...?"
The second floor balcony? The idea surged through her, but she forced herself to walk it, though she walked so quickly it was almost a sprint in itself. She had to force herself to keep an even pace, to think calmly. She would not beg Quezacotl to just this once let her fly through Garden, although she wanted to.
She passed a couple students in the hall, their guilty faces telling her that they were out after curfew. And while Quistis would have certainly stopped and handed out detentions, Selphie continued to walk, her mind set on the balcony.
She opened the door cautiously, almost certain that he would be there -
But it was empty as well.
Her heart plummeted. Had Irvine left? Was he even in Balamb at all?
Half an hour later Selphie returned to the Quad, dejected, collapsing on a bench. She had searched everywhere - even the library, which Irvine had never been in at all to her knowledge - and he was nowhere. She'd checked his room again, checked the balcony twice. Nothing.
She was running on empty. The tears she couldn't cry were stuck in her throat. He had left her - left her alone to find her family and to run her Festival and to pick up the pieces of -
Then she suddenly heard the faint sound of a guitar playing.
Who is up this late? she asked herself sternly, and then recognized the song. Irvine had played that, in their little apartment in Deling City, the one that she and Quezacotl had made short work of. It was the song she had promised to play for him at some point; she recognized his playing, his little rhythms and finger-hammerings that made the song uniquely his, as any good guitar player could do.
Suddenly very nervous and afraid, Selphie stood up and cautiously headed through the Quad. Irvine was seated on the stage that the two of them had put together in Fisherman's Horizon, the stage for their concert. The first night Irvine had kissed her, she remembered suddenly - under the stars and the beauty of the night, and she had tucked the memory away to keep it precious. It had been swallowed by the urgency of Ultimecia and the frequent use of summons. Quezacotl presented her with it now, very suddenly, as if it were offering an apology; and she choked on a sob, realizing that she had forgotten such a moment.
So much forgotten. Such a price.
Irvine looked up at the sound, and the song slowly died. They stood there, looking at each other across the long path to the stage, hesitance thick in the air.
"There you are," Selphie whispered finally, and took a couple shaky steps forward. Her legs felt as if they had suddenly realized they'd been frantically running all night; they felt as if they wouldn't hold her for much longer. With a burst of speed she vaulted herself up onto the stage and then lowered herself to the ground softly, facing Irvine.
She was close enough to touch, but he didn't reach out.
Irvine had retreated to the dimly-lit and neglected stage on instinct alone; he wanted to be unfindable. Gritty and determined to grin and bear it - to get over that particular - rejection. He hadn't quite made it; he had planned to be up all night. It would be better in the morning, and he could have looked at Selphie with honest feelings in his eyes.
Unlike now. He couldn't even meet her eye.
I was a jerk, he thought now, staring down at the guitar. The biggest news of her life, and I just chucked it on her bed and ran. I should've been there, arms around her; she looks like she's been crying all night. I told her I would help her get her memories back.
I found her past, yes; but I wasn't much help. Bravery my ass. I got scared of being forgotten and I ran again.
I took the shot, but I missed. Crumbling under pressure. Dammit.
"Did you..." His voice was unsteady. "Did you read it? What did it say?"
"Oh." Selphie gasped a little, as if his question was a little unexpected. "Oh Hyne, Irvine, I have a family. I have a brother and a sister who are still alive. My real name isn't Selphie; it's Sophia. My brother's training to be a SeeD at Galbadia and my sister's in Timber." She sighed and ran her hand through her hair, giving him a rueful smile. "It hasn't all sunk in yet. I feel like - like I've been crying for days."
Irvine attempted a smile in return. "Well, I'm glad - not that you've been crying, but - I'm glad it, er, helped."
And then Selphie crumbled. "Oh, Irvine," she gasped, and threw herself at him; he moved the guitar just in time, for she landed in his lap, face buried in his chest, arms fastened tightly around his waist.
"How could you," she began, and he braced himself for the tirade; but then she broke away to look him in the face. "How could you do something so nice for me when I was being such a horrible person? How could you not tell me that I was a horrible person? Oh, Vin, I'm so sorry, I didn't even think about you, I figured that you'd find the Garden Festival super boring, so I just went off to take care of it all, I thought I'd give you a break. How could you," she finished, pausing for breath. "Next time I am a horrible friend, you need to tell me."
Irvine blinked in surprise, but Selphie looked so desolate; he put his arms around her, giving her shoulders a squeeze. "I'm the horrible person, Seff," he admitted. "I just threw that at you and ran. I should've been there, but I ... I panicked ... I thought you were sick of me, so I just left it."
She looked up at him, astounded. "Sick of you? Oh, Hyne, Irvine. I'm so sorry." She looked away. "You must hate me. I'm the most horrible person in the world."
"You are not," Irvine said firmly. "You are my favorite person in the world, and I'm sorry for being a jerk."
It's fate - we're meant to be together.
Selphie wasn't really sure which one of them had had the thought; at this point, she wouldn't put it past anyone, including her precious GFs, to suddenly summon forth the powers of telepathy as if it were no big deal. But it was fate, and they both knew it - finally.
"Irvine..."
Selphie sighed and looked up at him, those brilliant green eyes brimming with tears.
"Listen. I had no memories until you gave me memories. I had no past until you told me about the past." She sniffled. "And I had no real family until ...until you came back. You helped me find where I came from and where I belong."
She wiped a tear from her face and then looked back up at him. "Don't you see? Irvine, you're my past. You're my family."
Selphie Tilmitt took the deepest breath of her life and whispered, "I belong with you. I love you so much."
He was looking at her as if he didn't quite believe it, so she said furiously: "So don't you ever go thinking that I'm sick of you, because I'll never be sick of you. 'I'll be your family and you can be mine', right? Ever since we were three years old. I'm remembering the feeling, if nothing else." She bit her lip. "We're connected, Irvine. I've finally figured it out. And if you ever think I'm sick of you again I will hit you over the head with my nunchucks. You - you're all I've got."
Irvine looked down at her, the culmination of all those years of loneliness washing over him. Family. Finally a sense of belonging. One that he could trust.
He hadn't trusted it - and it had hurt them both.
I belong with you.
He sighed. "Seff." There was so much he could say. "I ...I've loved you since the day I saw you, Sefie. It was just - it's scary. But we'll..." He could almost not finish the sentence. "We'll be together forever. I just know it."
She sighed; she was happy to just rest her head on his shoulder, and he was happy to have it resting there, having dreamed of this culmination for his entire life.
"Selphie," he began, "I have another surprise."
"Oh," she choked, burrowing her head into his shoulder, "don't tell me just yet. I don't think I can take it."
They sat there, on the stage; Irvine gently rocking Selphie, his arms around her; her small arms were wrapped around him as best as she could arrange them. Finally the cowboy said: "It's not another shocker, Selphie, but I want to at least tell you this one myself, alright?"
She looked up at him, wide-eyed.
"Headmaster Shain is going to offer you a position as Head of Trabian Reconstruction tonight, at your Festival. He wants to put you in charge of the whole sha-bang, darlin'. He asked me to talk to you about it; I'm afraid I haven't given you too much time to think, though."
Selphie's eyebrows lifted. "Head of Trabian Reconstruction? Are you serious?"
"Tried and true," he drawled, earning a light smile. "As long as you want it."
"Bloody Ifrit," she whispered. "Me, the Head of - anything?"
Irvine couldn't help it; he laughed.
Selphie giggled at herself as her head returned to Irvine's soft shoulder. Finally. The security and strength she had always felt around Irvine had returned.
"So?" he asked, his accent lilting his words. "What are you gonna do?"
And immediately Selphie knew the answer. Lifting her head up so that she could look Irvine in the face, she asked him softly: "What are you gonna do?"
Irvine blinked.
Selphie blushed slightly, but held his gaze. "Don't think I'm going anywhere without you, cowboy," she said, mock sternness in her voice. "If you want to stay here, I'm staying. I'll only go if you'll come and help me."
She bit her lip. "I can't do it without you, Irvy," she said finally.
The evening was cool and brisk in Balamb, the blue sky above that deep and chilling blue that only night could bring. The Garden Festival for Trabia had begun; people were swarming into the great structure, dressed for a party. The Festival itself was a masquerade - Selphie's idea - and so everyone had come in costume. Glitter and sparkles and jewels and bright colors filled the ballroom, along with the soft strains of music and the inevitable murmur of chatter. The room looked fantastic, and there was a feel to the air - other than the cool briskness - that filled the room with a benign sort of energy.
Squall and Rinoa stood with Headmaster Cid and Edea Kramer (who had refrained from dressing up in costume), Rinoa looking as happy as ever and Squall glowering as usual. Rinoa had dressed herself as an angel: a creamy white off-the-shoulder dress with silver trim, complete with a glowing halo and shimmering wings. Part of Squall's glower was probably due to the fact that he was wearing all black with a set of tiny red devil's horns (Rinoa had, obviously, won that argument). Irvine tried his hardest not to laugh as he caught Squall's eye; but the little devil's horns had sequins on them as well, and he failed miserably.
Zell then caught his eye - not that it was hard. He had come as Dracula; a full tuxedo, paired with a silky black cape lined in red, and a top hat and cane. His fake fangs were obviously his favorite part of the costume, since he kept baring them at everyone - including the cute girl from the library, who had come as his date, looking lovely as a mediaeval princess. The princess kept bopping Dracula over the head with her fist, however, and Dracula kept threatening to bite her; which spoiled the effect somewhat, but did nothing to dampen the fun.
And Quistis was there as well, dressed as Shiva; the tall blonde had streaked her hair with blue and donned a dark blue dress with shimmering icy gloves; glittering blue eyeshadow arched above her icy eyes. "Selphie's idea," she said as Irvine approached her. "Do you really think I'd do this to my hair?" He noted that her eyes were tired - probably from the mission that he knew better than to ask about. However, her costume - and her poise - were immaculate as usual.
"You think I thought of this one myself?" Irvine replied warmly, gesturing to his own outfit: Selphie had dressed him as a bandit, using his cowboy's wardrobe to her best advantage and then tying a kerchief over his lower face.
A smirk appeared across Quistis's blue-tinted lips. "You barely had to change your clothes, Irvine."
He shrugged. "Well, her first idea was that I wear my hair down and go as a girl," he confessed; Quistis snorted gracefully. "This was as close as I could get to a victory."
"Speaking of victory," Quistis murmured, "did you see Squall...?"
Irvine burst into laughter, which was all the answer his friend needed.
There was a small commotion at the front stage; the music stopped, and Headmaster Cid appeared at the mike, gesturing for silence.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," he began, "and for those of you from other regions, we welcome you warmly to Balamb Garden." There was a friendly round of applause - mostly from the Balamb cadets - and then Cid raised his hands. "Most of all we welcome our guests from our sister, Trabia Garden, in whose honor the Festival tonight is being held. As you all know, this Festival is not only a time to enjoy ourselves; it has also become a fundraiser. With the proceeds from this Festival we are hoping to help our sister Garden recover her former strength and glory. All the donations we've taken to put on this grand event will be given to Trabia to help her recovery efforts. Our dream is to see Trabia Garden restored to the beauty it once had."
Cid looked around the room. It was full of SeeD cadets from all three Gardens, as well as townsfolk from Balamb and Trabia both who had decided to attend the charity event. He was proud of this place; couldn't be prouder.
"Well, I promised my wife I wouldn't talk too much," he continued, grinning an honest grin. "At this point I would like to give the mike to Trabia's Headmaster, Shain Sheridan, in the hopes that he will say a few words."
Headmaster Shain appeared on stage; he shook Cid's hand warmly and then headed for the microphone. "I apologize for not having a costume," he said, his voice friendly; "things have been hectic at Trabia, as my friends will know." The audience laughed (mostly the girls in the audience, for Shain was looking very handsome in his tux). "I know this isn't much of a disguise, but it was all I could find."
Shain paused, his eyes scanning the audience briefly; he threw a small smile at Irvine and Quistis as he recognized the cowboy, and then continued. "We at Trabia Garden can't even begin to express how grateful we are," he said. "We've received so much help from our brothers and sisters here at Balamb. Since the - the tragedy," he said, his well-controlled voice unshaking, "things at Trabia have been desolate at best. But the constant help and guidance we've received have given us hope, just as this Festival will give us the funds we need to complete our dream. Reconstruction will not be easy, but we are more than grateful for the help we have been lucky enough to receive."
Shain straightened, shifting his weight. "Trabia's destruction was hard on everyone, and our thanks go to all of you for attending tonight. But there is one young woman behind this Festival, one young lady who has given so much of her time and strength to help us, and to her goes most of the credit for this lovely night." Shain extended his hands to the audience. "If I could ask for your help, I would like to give a round of applause to Miss Selphie Tilmitt."
The crowd of students burst out with clapping and cheering and whistling as Selphie walked up the stairs to the stage. She was dressed as a golden butterfly - her dress was long and form-fitting, covered with sparkles, darkening from bright gold into the deep burnt bronze of her hair as it fell to her feet. Great shimmering golden wings spread from her back. About her head she wore a tiny golden crown with two little antennae protruding from her shining hair. She was radiant, glowing like sunshine, her smile beaming down on everyone.
She looks like a dream, Irvine thought, as Quistis said softly: "She looks gorgeous."
Selphie shook hands with Headmaster Shain and then pulled him into an impromptu hug that made the audience laugh over the applause. He clapped her on the back (carefully avoiding the wings) and released her, grinning like a comrade. Selphie stepped up to the microphone, gripping it with both golden-gloved hands.
"Wow," she began, looking out at the smiling faces and the glitter and sparkles and jewels and colors. "I still don't believe that we managed to pull this off. This place looks great, you guys," she added conversationally; there was a light wave of laughter.
Selphie grinned. "I have a lot of thank-yous to give out," she said, "because although Headmaster Shain seems to think otherwise , I had a lot of help with this. First I would like to thank each and every one of you for coming tonight - it's flattering that so many people care enough. You all look wonderful, and you've made the night a success."
"I also need to thank my Festival Committee members," she continued, waving her hand. "There are too many of you to name right now, but I want you all to know that I appreciate all of your help." A couple stray cheers reached the stage, and Selphie threw her hands in the air suddenly in a gesture of victory, screaming "Woo-hoo! We did it! BOOYAKA!"
The auditorium erupted in cheers and catcalls; Irvine raised a hand to cover his face, laughing, as Quistis shook her head with a chuckle.
"We should have expected that," Irvine said, rolling his eyes.
The noise finally died down as Selphie returned her hands to the microphone. "I have one more thank-you to give out," she said, her voice almost soft, and the laughter died down a little. "It's the most important one of all, so I saved it to the end."
All eyes were on her, but she didn't seem to notice. "There is one person who has always stood by me - who has been with me through everything. He's given me the support I need for my crazy ideas, and he always helps me out when I'm stuck or depressed, or both. He's been my family through everything. And although it looks like I'm the one behind all this craziness - " she waved her hand, taking in all the decorations and people and all of Garden's Festival-ness - "it was actually his idea, not mine."
Her eyes landed on his, and she smiled at him, over the heads of hundreds of people, reaching out her hand. "Irvine - thank you. For everything."
He didn't really know what to do except stare; and then he heard Quistis's laughing voice over the cheering that had broken out around them. "Hurry up," she said, her hand on the small of his back, pushing him through the crowd. "She wants you up there, you idiot."
He didn't know how he made it through the crowd, but he did, reaching up to catch Selphie as she slipped off the stage into his arms, radiant in gold and copper shimmer, smiling at him. He held her close, resting his cheek against her soft hair, breathing in her warm scent. Sunshine and citrus again.
Suddenly struck with an idea, he took off his precious cowboy hat and presented her with it. She carefully tucked it onto her head, settling it atop her little antennae, and grinned up at him with that wonderful impish smile.
They were both unaware of the crowd around them, applauding and cheering; the music started up, and everyone went back to their dancing and socializing and partying.
All night, people came to congratulate Selphie, to tease Irvine about his part in the Festival. They didn't really notice any of it. Irvine caught glances of the festivities around them: Squall and Rinoa dancing; Quistis talking with Cid and Shain; Zell stealing Edea and dancing around like a monkey as their old Matron laughed; and he saw Lilia, who gave him a wink in greeting. But most of what he saw was contained in glimpses, mere moments, like a single sparkle within the ballroom.
He spent most of the night dancing with Selphie and being happier than he had ever been before.
Recognized - proclaimed - affirmed. The wandering cowboy finally had a place for himself, somewhere he could belong, a family he could belong to. It was a family of one, and it was the closest bond he had ever known.
It's fate - we're meant to be together.