I dedicate this movement to Mr. Brunelle. Thanks to him and Eighth Grade Social Studies I will never forget true pain is. Now Seifer and I finally have something in common.
Allegretto Scherzando
Seifer turned his head to sneer at the boy who sat down at the computer terminal next to his. The shorter male was new to the institution. That he could tell right away. Obviously wet behind the ears. No one sat next to Seifer Almasy in the back of the classroom. No one. If there were no empty desks, one would either leave or share with a friend. That was the way the fourteen year old preferred it. He ruled the back of the room and wanted everyone to be aware.
Feeling the other male's heated glare, Zell squirmed in his seat. He had been running late all morning, one of the things he hated the most. His mother had pushed the speed limits all the way to Garden after he'd slept in an extra hour to make sure he did not miss his very first class. This was the most important day of his young life. Screwing up his chances was not an option. Especially when everyone back in town was counting on him doing just that.
With his eyes kept on the whiteboard at the front of the classroom, he listened to the instructor drone out the roll call. His name was near the beginning so he had to pay close attention. However, once he'd announced his presence, his mind began to wander.
Agitated fingers tapped loudly at the keyboard keys of his terminal, drumming out a syncopated rhythm. The power unit was switched off so there was no danger of him damaging the system. His drumming grew louder and more animated the less he paid attention to the instructor. His mind rushed with eager thoughts of joining SeeD and taking part in crucial, world-saving missions. Along with his fingers joined his sneakered foot against the floor.
However, his daydreams were cut short when the hand of the boy next to him reached over and caught his wrist in a firm hold, startling him from his lick. Seifer squeezed harder when Zell tried to pull away.
"Cut that out." It was an order.
Chagrined, Zell looked up into his fellow student's face. He pulled on his hand again. "Okay, okay. Geeze."
When his wrist was freed, he could not resist rubbing at where Seifer's hand had pinched. With narrowed eyes, he studied his desk mate for the first time. Tall and of a larger build than Zell's thirteen-year-old pubescent body, Seifer was more than a little intimidating. But he had dealt with bullies all of his life and knew he would have to learn to deal with this one if he wanted to get anywhere. One of the reasons he was joining SeeD was so that he would not have to be afraid anymore. Some day, the bullies of his past would be answering to him.
"Who do you think you are, anyway?" It had taken all of his audacity to respond, but Zell could be proud of the strength in his voice. There was nothing the creep could do, he told himself. They were in the middle of a military classroom.
Seifer's brows lowered and his eyes darkened to a threatening light. "Someone you should get to know. I'm gonna be running things around here real soon. By spring, I'll be SeeD." He sat back against the hard metal bench and stretched his legs into the aisle. "Then jerks like you will be outta here."
"You?" The disbelief overcame any fear that trembled his bones. Zell scoffed. "You gotta be real smart to pass the exam so early."
"I know that." Seething and not at all liking what the kid was implying, Seifer slammed a hand down on the desk. "What? You think you're smarter than me?" Smirking, he gave Zell the once-over. "You're just a first year."
"I know." Still looking doubtful, Zell crossed his arms over his chest. "But I've been practicing."
"Oh, yeah?" A slow grin wormed its way over Seifer's arrogant features. He folded his arms in a similar pose and studied the other fellow with interest. "What's your weapon?"
"I don't need one," said Zell with pride. "I got these fists o' mine." To emphasize this, he uncrossed his arms and gave a few practice punches to the air. "I killed five bite bugs just last week."
"Ah. Swatting flies." Seifer nodded and lifted his brows. "An excellent occupation for SeeD. Tell you what. When I'm in charge, I'll make you head of pest control." The look on the other boy's face was more than enough to have him laughing out loud.
Zell's complexion turned red with fury as Seifer's snickers grew louder. The freckles left over from childhood stood out on his cheeks as the flames shot up to his hairline.
"Mr. Almasy!" The strident, yet bored, tones of the instructor drilled through the laughter and made Zell's head jerk toward the front. His fists clenched tightly on the tops of his knees. "If I hear one more outburst from you this week, you'll be spending the next fortnight in detention. Understand?"
"Yeah, yeah." The reprimand caused Seifer to slump in his seat and Zell chuckled inwardly at his expense.
Stretching his feet out further, so that they rested by the terminals in front of them, Seifer shot Zell a dirty look full of all the wrath he could muster. His seatmate felt the urge to gulp. He'd barely been there fifteen minutes but already he'd made an enemy. Seifer Almasy looked like the last person one should rile. So much for a clean start.
Five minutes into the lesson, Zell was struggling to remain awake. The subject matter was not something he could get a handle on. Who cared about the chemical properties of Grat poison? Obviously the instructor did. A lot. He tried to follow his monotone and match the words with the diagrams on his screen. He was finally starting to get the hang of the whole molecular balancing thing when the monitor in front of him went blank.
Letting out a strangled shout, Zell automatically looked at the computer next to his, the one manned by Seifer. His compounds were still happily bouncing around so it couldn't have been a power failure.
"Having problems?" Seifer jeered, checking out the bewilderment in the other male's expression. Only now did he allow a self-satisfied smile to light up his face. Discreetly, he let the unplugged cord slip from his fingers beneath the desk and onto the floor. He leaned over Zell's unit. "What'd you do? Bust it up?"
All of a sudden the instructor was at their side. "Mr. Almasy, must I repeat myself?"
"Hey, it ain't me." Lifting his hands in innocence, Seifer sat back, jerked a shoulder. "He's the one that broke his computer."
Miserable, Zell shifted so that the frowning man could investigate. "I don't know what happened!" His protestations caught the attention of several other students around them and his classmates turned around to gawk. "Honest, I don't!"
Experimentally tapping a few keys, the teacher got to the bottom of the problem almost right away.
"Calm down, Mr. Dincht." Unimpressed, he stood back up to his full height. "Plug it back in so we can all return to the task at hand." His blank eyes bore holes through Zell's forehead.
Eyes wide with a distinct flush stealing up his neck, Zell nodded and ducked under the terminal to do as he was bid.
By the time he rose and his unit had blinked to life, the back-up disk saving his work thus far, Seifer and the rest of the class were intent on their course work. Remaining a bit rosy, Zell did his best to concentrate on the jiggling circles.
"Since you seem so fond of conversation, Mr. Almasy," the instructor was saying, eyes as flat as his voice. "Why don't you tell your fellow students the best way to nullify the gastronomic acid of a Grat?"
"Huh." Extending his arms behind his head, Seifer was the picture of nonchalance. "That's simple. Just mix it with a potion."
"Hmmm." With a lift of one bushy eyebrow, the instructor turned to the class at large. "Can anyone point out the error of Mr. Almasy's ways?" In the very front of the rows, one hand shot up, ramrod straight. "Ah, Miss Trepe. Please."
"The essential chemicals of potion are basic, extremely so. Therefore they could cause a reaction with the gastronomic fluid. If this compound was to touch human skin or organs, there could be future tissue damage." Her voice rose above the whispers and clacking of keyboard keys, clear and level. Curious, Zell craned his neck to see what kind of student spoke in such a manner. Like right out of a text book. All he could glimpse over heads of various sizes and heights was a shock of blond hair and a pair of posture-perfect shoulders.
"It would be better," Quistis went on, "to neutralize the acid with a solvent, of the kind that can be found in any regular brand antidote. This would not cause tissue damage, nor would it react. Even in a test tube."
"Excellent." The teacher nodded approvingly, although his intonation did nothing to contribute to the compliment.
Aware of the eyes on her, she lifted her chin. She only darted a glance backward, almost haughtily, in Seifer's direction before returning her focus to her computer. Zell arrowed his own glance at Seifer, to gauge his reaction at being shown up. It was not a pretty sight. He almost expected the back of the girl's head to explode with the amount of fire he was shooting at her with one glower. Shuddering inwardly, Zell swivelled his own eyes away.
"Now that girl. She's real smart."
"What did you say?" Seifer's words were a hiss in his ear. He could feel his anger almost as a physical presence on the bench. Metal, he learned, was an excellent conductor of heat.
"Nothing!" Zell whispered with a shake of his head, avoiding looking up. "I didn't say anything." At least, he hadn't meant to.
"Didn't think so." When Zell sensed the ebbing away of Seifer's presence he breathed a visible sigh of relief. "Chickenwuss."
At that, Zell lost all corporal control. He forgot about the task at hand, forgot about the instructor and just gaped, jaw wide open and chin trembling perilously. His eyes filled despite all efforts to force his emotions back.
"W-What did you c-call me?"
"Shut up, Seifer."
The other male had been about to repeat his taunt, ever-ready smirk in place, before the boy seated in front of the two twisted his neck around to glare. His words came out resigned and weary. As if they'd been uttered many times before.
Smirk smoothly became sneer. "Why should I, Leonhart? You gonna beat me up for picking on your girlfriend? He's such a little coward."
"Just shut up." The dark-haired male rolled his eyes. "I could call you the same thing."
Amazed that someone was actually sticking up for him, that someone was brave enough to face a bully for him, Zell sat in awe. The look he gave Squall before the student turned back round was something very akin to worship.
For the next forty-five minutes, until the end of first period, Seifer remained silent. Zell was given hope that maybe, just maybe, things would start to go better, now that he had a guy like Leonhart on his side. Maybe here, things could be different and he would get that clean slate after all.
He was so thrilled with the prospect, he didn't even notice when Seifer knocked over his books and "accidentally" jostled his elbow on his way out of the room. His attention was centred on the boy who had rescued him from ultimate humiliation.
"Hey! Wait!" Shoving his notebook and text into his knapsack as he ran, he met Squall in the doorway. "Thanks, man. For what you did back there. That Almasy sure is a jerk, huh?" The other male moved a shoulder awkwardly, gaze on the wall somewhere over his head. His height was equal to Zell's but he was smaller in stature, he noticed. "That's pretty cool. You standin' up to him and all."
"Whatever." Another shrug and he made a move to leave.
"Wait!" Zell followed him out to the hall, still struggling with his backpack. "You wanna have lunch together or something? I don't really know anyone yet."
With a sigh, Squall paused. "Sorry. I can't."
"Oh." Disheartened, Zell watched his new hero walk away, shoulders hunched. Only to be interrupted once more by the approach of a female. Zell recognized her voice as belonging to the one who knew all the answers in class.
"Hi, Squall. I heard you chose your weapon yesterday." The girl fiddled with the hem of her cadet jacket. In her other hand she hugged several books to her chest. She gave a tentative smile. "Does that mean you're taking the exam in the spring, too?"
"I don't know." Seemingly impatient, Squall tried to move past her toward the elevators.
"Well, I still have to pick mine. Do you have any advice?" Her eyes shone with hope, even as she had to adjust her gaze downward to meet his.
"Not really."
"That's okay. I'll, uh, see you later!" Her message fell on deaf ears as the lift doors closed before she could finish. "Oh well." It was more spoken to herself than anyone else but Seifer, who had been leaning against the wall the entire time, heard every breath.
"Aw, did poor little Miss Perfect get ditched?" Snickering loudly with scornful amusement, Seifer managed to single-handedly clear the hallway. No cadet wanted to hang around when Almasy was on the war path. There weren't many in Balamb willing to stand up to him. Squall, was one, and Quistis was another.
"I don't know what you are talking about, Mr. Almasy." Back stiff, she spun on her heels to stride away. "Maybe you should spend more time in the library instead of prying into other people's business."
In a high pitched voice, Seifer mimicked her speech and mannerisms, including the exact tilt of her head. Unmoved, Quistis continued to walk away.
"Why would I want to go to the library? You're there." As a parting shot, it was pretty weak, but it had the desired effect of recapturing her attention. Her hold loosened on the books.
"Don't you want to get good grades? Pass the exam? Become a SeeD?"
"Sure, but I don't need a bunch of lousy books for that." He tapped his head and grinned. "It's all in here."
"I see."
Now that they stood within an arm's distance, Seifer was able to snatch the top book off her pile. "What's this?" He read the title and flipped open the cover. "Whips and Lashes. A Strategy Guide." Glancing back up, his grin grew in power. "Don't tell me you're picking a whip as your weapon."
"What if I am?" Quistis attempted to nab back her book but he pulled it out of her reach.
"It's so…girly. You'll get your ass kicked."
"I am a girl, in case you didn't notice." When he moved the book again, she rocked back on her heels and let out a patient sigh. "May I please have my book?"
All of a sudden annoyed, he flipped it back to her. Her fingers missed it by millimetres and it fell to the floor, landing on the spine and popping open.
"I'm picking the gunblade."
From her position on the floor where she'd bent to retrieve her possession, Quistis looked up owlishly. She nodded slowly. The weapon would suit a boy like him, she thought. Sleek and one of the most difficult to master, it was a natural choice for someone who believed he could take on the world single-handedly. Yes, if he worked hard, Seifer would do well with the gunblade.
"That's what Squall chose, too." She rose to her feet and measured his reaction.
His lip curled in a snarl and he glared down at her. Obviously he had not heard the rumour. "I'll be better. Ten times better!" He swiped the air with a long arm. "You just wait."
He muttered a few more incoherent thoughts before storming toward the lift doors. Quistis watched him depart, a contemplative look on her young features. Squall and Seifer. So alike yet so different. Like acid and base. When they mixed, it was difficult to predict what would happen. For some reason she had the feeling she was going to get the opportunity to find out.
