Chapter 4: The First Lessons

Mattius2k04: Egads! My cookies! *stuffs face, then sees red light on the camera.* Aww screw off! I'm eating! Producer: *runs in front of camera* well, uh, enjoy chapter four! *walks towards Mattius2k04* excuse me sir, but- Mattius2k04: I'm on my lunch break, okay?! Get lost! *hisses and holds his gunblade threateningly*

"The thing I notice most about people," spoke Auron, "is that they simply run forwards with no thought to personal safety and attack their enemy. I will not lie to any of you; this is a dangerous career. You are soldiers, and death is always a certainty." He spoke grimly. "However, it is not you who needs to die. Your enemies are not invincible, and while neither are any of you, you can outmatch any one of your foes with the right tactics and techniques. Let me explain to you the importance of caution; discretion is the better part of valour." At this, Sir Auron typed on a small computer, and on a screen behind him, the text appeared. "You would all do well to remember it." His voice echoed through the medium-sized classroom. It was white, with about a dozen rows of desks spaced widely, about 2 meters apart from each other. Each desk had a writing space, and a slot where a screen would appear when needed (or so Tidus had gathered).

Tidus watched on in rapt attention. Whatever Sir Auron saw in him, he didn't want to disappoint it. He knew Auron knew something about him, and he wanted to know exactly what was on his mind.

But he seems pretty hard and cold, Tidus thought, he seems pretty secretive and all.

He didn't really know anyone in his class. There was one guy, who had been in his elementary school, but he never got to know him. Just another face in the halls. There was a bunch of muscles sitting at the opposite side of the classroom from him. They were loud and obnoxious just to get attention. Tidus hated it, especially since they seemed determined to piss him off. They had asked him, as a joke, if he was even in the right classroom, and 'suggested' he should be some pansy-assed male model.

People have judged me my whole life, Tidus thought, I'll just have to show them I can do whatever I want.

There were a few girls, but none of them were as cute as Yuna. But man, is she ever! Tidus thought, visualizing her pretty face in his head. He found he liked her a lot more than even at the beginning. Everything from her quiet, gentle voice to her deep green and blue eyes.

Sir Aurons' strict voice snapped him back to reality, and he kicked himself for spacing out so quickly.

"The longsword is a weapon for both beginners and for veterans of the arts of wars." Sir Auron continued. "It is the most popular weapon in Balamb, and the most widely-used."

Tidus jotted down these trivial pieces of knowledge. Simple, but hey, just in case. He reminded himself of his marks at elementary school, and was determined to make sure he stayed on track this time around. He never liked Math, or Science, or even English class. Always so boring. He liked History Class, and of course, his Physical Education classes were by far his favourite. Now, everything was different, because instead of a pencil and paper, he had a sword and a target. He wondered how the others were doing.

"The answer is Archangel Gali." Answered Yuna, confidently.

"Very good, Miss Yuna." Replied the Teacher of White Magic Use, a light- haired, fair-skinned woman named Mina. She tapped her ornate healing staff on the floor. "Archangel Gali is the angel said to have brought healing magic to this world."

Yuna had always been a good student, and she did not want to let anyone down. Her father and mother were counting on her, and she wanted to give them money someday, enough to get them into a nice house. She'd become a mercenary because of the fact that mercenaries in this day and age made fortunes, and she'd done this just to help her parents and family. Her family had always been relatively poor. Her mother had a day job at a security agency, the same agency for which her father was part of. Even combined, they both had very little money, just enough to support Yuna. They'd always put her first, buying her presents when they could and rarely getting anything for themselves. Her father, Braska, had always been so nice to her, and had even bought her staff. Her mother, Helen, once a white mage herself, had trained her to use white magic. From what she was told, she always had a gift for magic.

"Now, can anyone tell show me the proper movements for the healing spell cure?" Asked the teacher again. A student beside Yuna shot her hand up, and correctly showed the proper movements. Yuna found herself thinking about Tidus again.

I wonder why I'm attracted to him? Yuna thought to herself. With a snap, she realized exactly what it was. He's so cheerful, and optimistic. It's great when people smile with reasons, but when people, like him, smile without any reason. She snapped back into her classroom, and not for the first time, wondered if he felt the same way.

What is he talkin' bout? Wakka asked himself, confused more than ever. He was sitting in his Gunblade class, watching as Squall performed a series of attacks, each one directed from a different angle. It was amazing, Wakka had never seen anyone move with such strength and fluid grace when using a weapon. It was like a deadly form of song, each lyric intended to bring a new meaning. Awesome yet deadly.

I'd hate to have to fight him! Wakka thought inwardly, watching as Squall performed a rather nasty series of forward thrusts, like a jackhammer, back and forth so quickly as to be barely visible. He'd kick my ass!

Squall spoke very quietly and very little, preferring to hand the students a textbook and point out a page. He was currently demonstrating a style of fighting which relied on a succession of quick, weak attacks. Very impressive, but Wakka didn't listen when Squall had told them some important things to practice, and he was now clueless. Squall stopped suddenly, and Wakka noticed not even a bead of sweat dripped on his forehead. He drifted off, imagining what kind of stuff he'd be up to once he started fitting in.

I was always popular, he thought to himself. In elementary, while his marks sucked, he had always been the center of crowds, along with Tidus. The two of them had hooked girls like a fishing net, and had never really put aside time for things that really mattered. Wakka came from an orphanage when he was six. He didn't remember his real parents, who'd been killed by fiends, or so he'd heard. He was too young. That was like 15 years ago anyways. Almost immediately, an older couple had seen him and his brother and taken them in. His younger brother, Chappu, had also been killed on one of his training runs. He remembered fighting the fiends off of his brother, who'd been dead long before he found him. He'd yelled and screamed, avoided playing any sports or going to school for weeks, staying away from home most of the time too. He'd spent the majority of that time hunting down fiends out of sheer hatred. Almost died from exhaustion a couple of times, but went on, determined to find and kill every fiend in the world.

Probably why I became a mercenary, ya? Wakka had remembered the day he'd first went back to school, the first day Tidus had came. Tidus had talked to him, but Wakka just ignored him, at first. Eventually, his cheerfulness had affected Wakka's layer of depression, and he found himself happier every time they met, every time Tidus would crack a joke or do something stupid. Eventually, Wakka was back to his old self, laughing, partying, and enjoying life. However, the memory of his brother's death had always been, and still was, a bitter mental scar. He snapped himself back to the present, where Squall was now pointing out sections on a large poster on the board. Ahh! Gotta pay more attention ya!