Untitled Document
The Bloodcross Key: Arc 2: Reversals
by Lady Tempest

Part 12:

Fate appeared to be against him. Or them. Since Garden was grounded outside of Deling City in Galbadia, his and Seifer's usual dueling spot was hundreds of miles away. With Seifer nowhere near in top form, Squall refused to risk unknown terrain and potential monster attacks just to prove a point. He wouldn't chance Seifer's life even to help bring him back to himself. Seifer depressed and withdrawn but alive was far better than losing him. Squall would wait an eternity if necessary, frustrating as it may be, as long as Seifer was safe.

So, that left the Training Center. After a quick stop at Squall's quarters to get his gunblade, he and Seifer headed there. Every few moments Squall would glance over his shoulder to Seifer who for once was lagging behind. Always, Seifer had been the one striding ahead carried by long legs and confidence. But...

But Seifer wasn't the same. Nothing was. As they walked, his head hung low, errant strands of gold limply brushing his forehead, as dejected as he was. His shoulders slouched, hiding his body under a plain gunmetal gray trenchcoat. For some reason Seifer had refused to wear the coat that had become as much Seifer as his smirk.

However, disappointment at the removal of one more fragment of normalcy was short-lived. Seifer was too breathtaking in the darker gray contrasting the powder blue of his sweater, brightening the gold of his hair and the aqua of his eyes. It created a desperate illusion of life and vibrance Squall had achingly missed the past weeks. The saying `You don't know what you have until it's gone' was agonizingly true. Too true. But he would bring it back. For Seifer's sake. Whatever it took! Whatever.

As they continued on, Seifer flinched, and drew further into himself whenever they passed other students or faculty. Squall would have thought Seifer paranoid, except he too caught some of the hateful looks and murmuring directed at the ex-knight. His icy glare was more than enough to send embarrassed blushes to the student's cheeks and a nervous scurry away. Squall knew it wouldn't change how they felt, but at least it gave Seifer a break from the unwanted attention.

As they neared the Training Center they passed another cluster of students. The same hate, disgust, on their faces, in their eyes, however, Squall's threatening glare only instigated a muted smirk. The boys walked on, lingering on Seifer with a look Squall couldn't read, then they turned away, chuckling quietly amongst themselves.

Squall fumed, his lips thinning to a tight pink line. But there was nothing officially he could do. He reached for Seifer's sleeve and tugged him gently towards the Training Center

******

Seifer was staring down at his trembling hand gripping his gunblade. Stance slouched and nervous, Squall would have thought Seifer a new cadet on his first training bout, not the fearless and skilled fighter he had always known Seifer to be.

"Ready?" Squall asked.

Seifer glanced up at him, deadness once more glazing his aqua eyes.

Deciding to take Seifer's lack of reply as not a `no`, Squall stalked towards him, gunblade poised to strike. Faster than either could blink, silver streaked inches from Seifer's right shoulder. Seifer did nothing, not even flinch, his eyes cast to the green grass at their feet.

"Is this how you defend your lack of honor, by showing it?" Squall hissed. "Come on! Do something!"

Seifer`s eyes closed, misery sculpting the strong lines and smooth skin of his beautiful face. "I can't! I told you I'm useless," he muttered weakly.

"There you go again. Insulting my friend."

Seifer glanced up quickly. "F....friend?"

Squall paused. "Yeah. Friend."

Swallowing, Seifer looked away. "Don't bother. I'm not worth your time."

"Hey," Squall said, resting a hand casually on his canted hip. The relaxed pose was both forced and natural, the rumbling inside him struggling past instinct, urging him to feelings more intense than he was comfortable with. The Squall everyone knew was the Squall he needed to be to cope with the moment. To cope with Seifer not being himself. To cope with the him Squall truly was, the him Seifer always drew to the surface. And to be capable of the same for Seifer. "You let me decide who or what is worth my time! This `I'm worthless' crap is why we're here. So if you want to insist on it, fight for it!"

"I..." With a sigh, Seifer's shoulders slumped. "... I can't." His voice was so quiet Squall barely heard him.

"Bullshit! Seifer Almasy doesn't know the meaning of the word!"

"I learned."

Squall tensed. He would destroy them! Every last one of them! For destroying Seifer, his proud, confident Seifer. Or at least for trying. He refused to believe Seifer wasn`t still underneath the shattered pieces of himself. He refused! "I don't believe you. I won't believe you!"

"I'm telling you, I can't. Not anymore," Seifer almost growled, like a wounded, dying animal, pained and desperate.

"Whatever..." Squall swung his gunblade in a downward silver arc, clanging against Seifer's passive blade, the impact knocking it away from Seifer's side.

"Fight for it!" Squall glared at the stunned blond.

Seifer was silent.

"Fight for it!" Squall's gunblade clashed against Seifer's like a morbid chime, again knocking Hyperion away from the blond's side. Seifer stumbled back a step from the sheer force of it. "Fight, Seifer..."

"I..."

"Fight it."

"I..."

"Fight, sing with me." Like the haunting tones of metal striking metal lingering in the air, the words echoed ones spoken so often in the past, yet by another. By Seifer. A challenging smirk on his lips, the glinting of life and playfulness in his gorgeous blue eyes, Seifer`s challenges always carried a flair of the poetic, a glimpse of the passion in his soul. Squall missed him. God, he missed him. "Sing with me, Seifer," he repeated softly. "Only you can. And I know you need it too."

Another tap jolted against Seifer`s blade. As the next strike flashed towards Hyperion, Seifer's hand twitched, meeting Squall's gunblade in mid-swing and rang the air with a prelude note in steel.

Yes!

A warmth flooded along Squall's skin chasing the jarring through his bones from his every strike finding solid resistance.

Slowly their blades danced to a breezy, hesitant overture, glances and nicks steadily building in crescendo, forming toward a stronger, resonating song. Seifer's initial stance of defense grew to an isolated attack or two. Nothing like his usual style, but far better than depressed passivity.

"I know you can do better than that, Almasy," Squall taunted, his ocean-blue eyes glittering with the smirk he didn't let touch his lips. "You're making Rinoa look good."

Seifer's brightening aqua eyes narrowed. But as he began a thrust, his third attack, he suddenly stopped, staring blankly past Squall. The rush in Squall's ears, the pounding of his heart at the glimmers of the Seifer he longed for, faded as he turned. A group of wide-eyed girls were whispering, giggling, at the entrance to the Training Center.

At Squall's stunned glare, the bolder one of the four girls smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, sir. We didn't mean to interrupt."

"Whatever," Squall grumbled. He glanced back to Seifer. The moment was gone. Vanished, like the spark in Seifer`s eyes, the embers of his former fire doused before they had a chance to ignite. "Seifer, we'll continue this later. Let`s go?"

"Sir! It...you... don`t..." The girl's face fell in nervous distress.

"Just carry on, cadet." Cold irritation rolled off him, enough to chill even the humid climate of the Training Center.

Without a second glance, Squall brushed past the girls, Seifer hesitantly following behind him. Damn! Damn, damn, damn! Just when he was drawing Seifer out, someone had to come along and ruin it! Pretty much the story of the past week, if not more, with something or someone interrupting everything important to him. He should have known better than to duel in the Training Center in the middle of the day. With a frustrated sigh, he led them back to Seifer's room.

*****

Squall sighed, tapping his pen against the stack of papers in front of him. He hadn`t wanted to leave Seifer alone in his room, but Squall couldn`t think of a way to prolong spending time with him. Besides, Seifer didn't appear to want his company. Only seemed to tolerate it. Squall was slowly becoming aware of the resulting pain like frozen skin thawing from the warmth of a fire, or a frozen heart thawing from the searing burn of rejection.

So he had no other option but to return to his duties and meaningless paperwork. Until ten o'clock. At least he had convinced Seifer to continue their duel later in the evening, at ten. He should have set it for a later hour in the first place. With a grimace, he inwardly smacked himself for his earlier impatience. All his years in Garden only he and Seifer ever seemed to frequent the Training Center later than general curfew. Well, sometimes Zell. Rarely anyone else. The perfect time. Perfect... perfect... like jewel blue-green...

The ring of his phone startled him from his wandering thoughts.

"Yes?" he replied wearily after jabbing the speaker button.

"Squall!" Raijin's energetic baritone broke the nighttime quiet of his office. "Good to hear you, ya know."

"Hmm." Squall frowned, easing back in his chair, leather squeaking leather. "Is this going to be a social call? Because I`m not in the mood."

"Well..."

"NO," Fujin's voice snapped through the speaker.

"Oh?" Could they possibly have completed their mission so soon? Squall jolted forward. "Wait a second. I'm switching to visual." With a press of a yellow button, the image of Raijin's rugged face flickered onto the flat monitor at the edge of his desk. Fujin shoved her way into view, following a yelp from her supposed friend.

"How's Seifer?" Direct. To the point. So Fujin.

"Honestly?"

Fujin nodded.

"Not good." Squall slumped into his chair, fingers threading through his tousled, chestnut hair to rest his head in his gloved hand. "He's not like him at all."

"Don't give up," Fujin said softly.

Damn, he missed those two. They may be Seifer`s friends, not his, but through the whole ordeal, they had become his; Had showed him once again that he didn`t need to carry his burdens alone. It was still difficult to accept, he could take care of himself, but it was no longer just about him. Seifer had shown him that, although the gorgeous blond didn`t know it.

Squall may have needed them on their mission to investigate everyone and anyone who was involved in Seifer`s torture, but at that moment he realized how much he needed them with him too. And with Seifer. To reassure him, them, whatever. He just needed Seifer back and sometimes, most times, Squall couldn`t bear the pain alone.

"I won't," he replied just as quietly.

She nodded again. "GOOD."

"So what do you have for me?"

"Hmm. Raijin." She moved aside slightly to give Raijin more room.

"Hey. Well we've been checking out the info from that disk, ya know." He handed something to Fujin. "We'll upload what we've gathered so far. Pretty much like we thought, they don't expect anyone to even know what they've done so they're acting like they've been to Chocobo World or something, ya know. Bastards!" Raijin clenched his fist as he growled, his knuckles nearly as white as his bared teeth. "Anyway, that's not why we're callin'. We found him."

"Him?" Squall raised a dark brow.

"Yeah. The contact guy. The one you talked to. Well, we didn't exactly find him, as much as find out his name and where he had been."

The pen in Squall`s hand snapped, staining his black glove with black ink. The bastard that owned the Palace was dead, he knew that first hand. But the fucker that sold Seifer, that had coordinated all Seifer`s `appointments', they had hoped he was dead but weren't sure. "Who and where?"

"His name's Eli Treah."

Traeh? The name sounded vaguely familiar, but Squall couldn't place it.

"The account that bastard had at the Deling National Bank helped get us that much. Good thing you made them freeze the funds. He came in three days ago trying to get the filthy gil. I wish we had been there in time so I coulda broken the bastard's neck!" Raijin snarled dangerously, wringing quaking hands like he was strangling someone.

"So he got away?"

"Yeah." Raijin's head lowered, his full lips tight in a grim frown.

Squall sighed. "Well at least we have something to work with. We'll get him. We'll get all of the them!"

Raijin glanced up, squaring his shoulders. "You bet, ya know!"

"Yeah..." Squall's eyes wandered in one of the strangely peaceful, awkward silences which often fell between them. It anchored him in a too brief moment of normalcy.

Suddenly, his drifting gaze caught the green numbers at the bottom of the screen. Shit! 9:50. "Shit! I gotta go. I'm dueling Seifer at ten o`clock."

"What?" Raijin lurched forward, his dark eyes wide. "Duel! "

"Yeah."

"Squall!..."

Fujin thwacked Raijin on the back of his head and shoved him from his chair. His arms flailing for balance, he disappeared from the screen.

"GO!" Fujin's scarlet eye crinkled with a smile. "Seifer hates tardiness."

Nodding, Squall rose from his chair. "Keep digging," he said like the commander he was, then added, softer, "and thanks."

Scrambling to his feet, Raijin returned to view, rubbing the back of his head, a warm smile on his rugged face. "We love Seifer too, ya know."

Squall nodded. "Yeah..."

(End Part 12)