"Difficult not to feel a little bit
Disappointed and passed over
When I looked right through
To see you Naked and Oblivious
But you don't see me..."
--A Perfect Circle
"For When You Return"
Part X
"I'm scared," The little girl said.
"Why?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." She was very pretty, at least in the boy's eyes. Her
dark hair was messy and limp, though, it looked damp. She was sitting next to him on a little
wooden bridge that was more for show than efficiency, on account that he could jump the river
with ease. She swung her feet idly, not looking very frightened in the least. This made the
little boy very curious.
"How do you know?" He asked skeptically, dangling his toes in the cold current.
"I just do," She said.
The scrawny boy looked over at her. He was as messy as she was, he could feel it in the form of
the greasy hair on the back of his neck, his bony chest and legs, and the tatters of his clothes
against his flesh, a simple pair of trousers. "Why'd you tell me that, then?"
"Tell you what?"
"That you're scared."
"Well," The girl said thoughtfully, "If I tell you now, maybe you'll know."
"Know that you're scared?"
"Yes." The girl declared. "That way, you'll know that I'm just as scared as you are."
"...But...I'm not scared."
"...You will be." She said.
"Squall?"
His face crunched and through his strangled nostrils he tried to bring in a rush of clean air,
and with that air a touch of reality. The pull from sleep to arousal was slow and straining.
Steadily, paced, Squall became aware of the made-up bed beneath his back, the blaring overhead
lights, and the familiar smells of his dorm room.
~Strange~, he thought.
"Yo, Squall? You up?"
Squall rubbed his face eagerly and felt something slip away from him... not so much fear as it
was... discomfort. He had been very uncomfortable. And cold... Gods, was he cold. Tiredly, he
rubbed at his face and cracked open his eyes in order to look up at the man who had been talking
-- although the voice said it all.
"You sleep too much, man!" Zell said. He was dressed regally in his SeeD uniform with the front
neatly buttoned and his chin forced high by the stiff collar... but it didn't change his posture
or the fact that his hair still flew about in waves. With great exaggeration he tapped his watch
and then pointed to the dark window. "You got up this morning, walked to the cafeteria for a
while, and then slept. You call that living it up?"
Squall, who was half-awake and still offish about the events of the day before, cast the young
man a level look. Zell's face tightened and his lips forced into an exaggerated smile as he
forced himself to be totally oblivious to Squall's response -- although he didn't mention the
subject of 'living up' again. That was too close to 'great challenge,' and for some odd reason
his companions seemed to frown upon the concept.
"Anyway," Zell said, scratching at the back of his head a little. "The party, you know. I'd say
we could make our entrance in about a half-hour... I figured that I'd wake you up now... you're
one of those guys who like to spend a lot of time preening, right?"
Again, Squall didn't seem amused.
"...Sheesh, man. You'd think a guy wouldn't be so cranky after his nappy-wappy."
Squall grunted a response. By then he had shifted and pushed himself into a seated position at
the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor and his hands holding him up on either side. He
was struck with a wave of déjà vu, but the sensation passed.
"Yeah, so that's it--Oh! Oh, man! Wait!" Zell had blissfully put his unusually excited self--he
was almost crackling with energy--toward the door, but at his outburst he spun around once more,
waving his arms as if missiles were coming toward the Garden again and he had almost forgotten
to tell anyone. "Rinoa!"
"...What about her? Is she back?" Immediately Squall moved to ease himself to his feet.
"No, oh no." Zell had calmed a little, almost reassuringly, and with a little snicker he added.
"And -now- you talk. Bring up Rinoa and it's like..." He stiffened his shoulders and made his
hands into tight little claws, before droning on. "It's aliiiive."
Squall, who had settled back onto the bed, glared.
"Blaaargh, alliiive, alli--" Zell, still in his zombie-impersonation, slid his eyes down onto
Squall. "Gee. You're not amused. Why am I not surprised?" And, with that, he dropped his hands
and said casually. "She sent a transmission from Esthar. They can only do a few minutes at a
time, and we wouldn't have been able to fetch you before it ended. It takes a few hours for the
system to re-charge or whatever, so she'll try again tonight. She says not to have too much fun
without her... Something about not letting other girls hypnotize you into dancing with them or
something? What's up with that?"
"Nothing," Squall muttered.
"Fine. Sorry I asked." Zell fluttered his hands around. "Get ready, I'll see you at the party.
Take your time, it's not like you'll be the life of it."
"Ouch." Squall said sarcastically.
Zell winked playfully at him and walked out of the bedroom with a disco-like squiggle in his
step. Down the hall Squall could hear an off-key version of 'Staying Alive.'
Making his lips into an 'o' shape, Squall pushed out a whistle and rolled his eyes a little.
Achingly he eased himself to his feet and rubbed at his shoulders. That fight had done a number
on him, that was for certain. It would be a few days until he would be in top shape, even with
the magic that had been used on him.
Idly, he slipped out of his leather jacket--heh, only a soldier would nap while fully
dressed--and threw it on the bed. With a cracking stoop of his shoulders he took one hand into
another and looked down at his palm. Peeling the gauze away from it with a nauseating pull of
flesh and smell of medicines, he looked at the twin scars that ran along the joints where his
fingers met his palm, as well as on the hinge of the thumb. The markings were the same on his
other hand. His lip curled a little in stoic disgust.
On the table was the bottom half of his gunblade. It was useless, only the hilt would have been
of worth or personal value... But the thing had saved his life countless times... and yesterday
had been the last. His blade was broken beyond repair.
Scoffing at himself for mourning a weapon, Squall tightly re-wrapped his palms and unfastened
his belt. Idly he padded over to the drawers where his clothes were folded, and with an
indignant glance toward the ceiling he pulled the top one open. The image of his
squarely-arranged uniform brought back a bittersweet air and a smell of clean age.
Damn.
He -hated- parties.
"I -love- parties!" Selphie cried, throwing a triumphant arm in the air.
"Woah, now, Sephie," Irvine said, having narrowly missed being inadvertently struck in the face.
With a careful hand he set his fingertips upon her raised fist and eased it back down. "Don't
want to knock out anyone, here. They might stop the music over that one."
"Wouldn't that be a shame," Quistis said dryly.
Irvine, who was between the two women, grinned widely at her and set an arm across her shoulders.
"Oh, Quisty." With his free hand he swept his hand across the hallway, where various students
were heading toward the ballroom. "I know how hard it is -- these Garden parties are so drab!
Everyone is wearing the same thing! Your keen fashion-sense is screaming, isn't it? Poor, poor
girl."
Quistis feigned a punch into his side. Sure enough, she was dressed in the skirt and suit-coat
of a SeeD. The ensemble made her look uptight -- and she felt that way, too. Irvine, however,
filled the Balamb uniform quite nicely. He grinned widely at the blonde, before turning to
Selphie in order to shake his head tiredly. "Looks like my other date is getting feisty, here.
Can't a man ever have a woman on both arms in peace?"
He pushed the double-doors open and was immediately struck with a wave of noise. The music was
classical and yet carried a quick beat -- something that got the blood pumping, Irvine thought
pleasantly. The pleasantly warm room was filled with an array of navy-clad students, drinking
and dancing in small clusters... mainly kids having fun.
...And women, of course. Lots of them.
"He's got that weird grin on his face again," Selphie said.
Irvine, who had indeed been staring off at a group of the opposite sex for a few moments, was
immediately pulled out of his temporary stupor by Selphie's voice. Like a spring he set an arm
around her neck and rubbed his knuckles across the top of her head. Selphie, of course, erupted
into a fit of giggles and beat against him with the resolve of a prisoner that didn't want to be
released.
Irvine, still wrestling with the girl, looked at Quistis over one shoulder. "Noogie?" He asked,
as if he were offering a plate of ladyfingers.
Quistis raised an index finger at him. "Touch my head and -die-."
Irvine nodded a little, tasting the response like a wine. "...Fair enough." He finally said.
Quistis, her lips pursed, nodded at him in a manner that said she was glad that they had reached
an understanding. Irvine stuck his tongue out at her and released Selphie, who straightened
dizzily. Irvine, blanching, quickly set to try and straighten her madly tousled hair with
less-than-serious little pats, whistling innocently.
"Stop it, stop! Stop it! Your fingers are getting caught! Irrvine!"
"Guys!" A voice said at the same time. Zell, who had been... mingling, or something...lifted his
hand above the camouflage of a small crowd and jogged toward the trio. Although he wore a uniform,
his tattoo and wild-hair separated him from the masses... not to mention the way he moved. If
the guy had one thing, it was atmosphere.
"Zell." Quistis said flatly.
Zell, looking surprised, peered at her with wide eyes. "Woah. Quistis, you aren't still bitter
about yesterday, are you? How're the cuts doing, anyway? The gauze seems smaller, I can hardly
notice it." Quistis rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest irritably.
The spiky-haired blonde wet his lips and looked at the three of them. His mood, which had been
forced enthusiasm, fell away to a much more natural demeanor -- apprehension and guilt.
"Listen... Guys... If I would have known, if I had -any- idea... I would never had done this to
you. You know that, don't you?"
"Can't blame you for being stupid," Irvine said. Selphie elbowed him sharply in the side.
Zell rubbed his forehead. "...and, well, I'll take the blame. I mean, I -am- taking the blame.
None of you guys are going to get canned for it, alright?"
"I don't want to be mad," Selphie said.
Quistis and Irvine didn't say anything for a long while. Eventually, however, Irvine cleared his
throat and said stiffly, "I don't want to spoil the party with this."
"Let us help with the planning, next time," Quistis added. She seemed even stonier than Irvine,
but the fact that she was actually talking was enough to lighten Zell's mood considerably --
after all, this was Zell.
However, he couldn't help but think to himself with some degree of shame weighing down on his
heart... His grandfather would never had made this mistake.
"Hey," He eventually said, cocking a thumb behind him. There was a table at the far end of the
ballroom where the headmaster and his staff sat, drinking and talking. "Matron is over there...
do you guys want to try talking to her?"
Although Edea had been pardoned for what she had done, everyone still felt a little bit of
apprehension when dealing with her. Their memories were faint... they knew that they loved her,
or that they at least were -supposed- to love her, but it took effort sometimes to stand by her
side as a friend rather than a threat.
Cid had been watching them from across the room, and he raised a glass of champagne in silent
greeting. Irvine made a tipping-of the hat motion, Selphie twiddled her fingertips, and Quistis
nodded formally. Zell, however, who was facing the other direction, saw Squall enter the ballroom
doors (he was late, imagine that) and waved madly at him. Squall met his enthusiasm with a
raised eyebrow and a slow saunter in their direction.
"And the prince has arrived," Zell declared.
He didn't quite know just how close to the truth he was. At the moment the doors fell to a shut
behind them there was a definite clang of a spoon against the side of a glass, and everyone in
the room turned to look at the long table where the staff had seated. Cid Kramer was standing,
looking as old and weary as he was... but there was no doubting the definite twinkle in his
eyes.
Squall, who had fallen into step just behind Selphie, raised his head with a glistening swing of
his hair and narrowed his eyes curiously. A quick glance to the rest proved that they knew as
little as he did.
"Excuse me," Cid said, although he clearly had everyone's attention. "Before we start the
festivities tonight, I'd like to make a few announcements. As most of you know, this party has
a reason beyond the reconstruction of Balamb Garden." And, with that, the man motioned toward
the five SeeDs that were standing in a cluster near the doors.
No. Oh, no. Squall could feel eyes on him. A pain rushed from his stomach into his throat, and
if he weren't so set in stone by his sense of duty and discipline, he would have been shoving
his way outside at that very moment.
"These five members of this establishment that are with us today have done something that I
cannot properly remember anyone else doing in the history of our time. Not only have they saved
this Garden from certain demise, but they also have put their wondrous abilities into saving our
world from ending as we know it."
It was so quiet. It was so goddamned quiet. Everyone was staring at them. Squall bored his eyes
intensely into Cid as he talked, trying to force him to stop... If the man had dropped into coma
right there, Squall would have almost jumped up clapped his heels together with relief. However,
Cid did not stop -- he even went as far as to look over at Squall and wink. -Wink-!
Damn him.
"There is little that I can offer them, or, at least, nothing that can possibly reward them for
what they had done. As a SeeD, your life is contracted to your mission... but this was a
mission that no normal soldier could have pulled off, duty aside." Cid paused and adjusted his
glasses a little. The hand that had been holding his glass in the manner of a toast lowered it
to the table.
"Quistis Trepe, if you'd come up here for a moment."
Squall wasn't looking, but he heard Quistis stir and then saw her in his plane of vision as she
moved across the room with a poise that he could never have. She looked almost as if she were
expecting this. Eventually she made it to Cid's side. First she shook his hand, and then
Edea's--how ironic, Squall couldn't help but think.
"Quistis, I'm aware that you have given up your Instructor's license..."
Next to him, Squall heard Zell huff out a little, "Wha?" It acted as a reminder to his stricken
mind, and then he realized what the man was confused about -- Quistis had told them that her
license had been taken away from her. But then, when Squall thought about it... Poor leadership?
Quistis? It was a lie so absurd that he was almost ashamed for having believed it.
Quistis was playing with the hair that covered the most of her wrapped jaw, as if she knew full
well that they were all looking at her curiously. However, she did not glance their way, and
with a nod she listened to Cid continue with formal grace.
"However, in the wake of these events, I would like to renew it." Cid went on for a long while,
explaining Quistis's strong points and her history with the garden, as well as how beneficial
she would be to the Garden during these new times. Quistis listened on modestly, and with a nod
she accepted the offer with a second handshake and a little nod to the applause that broke out
within the room.
"Selphie Tilmitt, would you please step foreward?"
She brushed past him as she went up to join Quistis. That natural bounce in her step had all but
died, and she glanced about warily. Again, she shared her greetings with Cid and Edea, and to
Squall's dull shock she was given the same offer and history-based speech. Selphie? She would be
almost as bad as Zell when it came to this, if not worse. It just wasn't in her nature.
And yet, with all that she had been through... What better person could instruct future
soldiers? Her bravery in the face of Trabia's potential and then definite destruction was not
lost on him. They all had learned so much.
"Irvine Kinneas, if you'd please?"
Squall, who was slowly beginning to wear out of his horror, lowered his head a little and rubbed
at the bridge of his nose irritably. Ceremonies. What a horrid, horrid thing... A crucifixion
would have been more pleasant.
"Oh man, oh man..." Zell was saying. He'd been saying it ever since Irvine was called. Squall
had been ignoring him, but eventually it wore on his nerves until he looked over and snapped out a,
"What?"
"Oh man," Zell said again, for good measure. "They aren't going to call me."
"What?"
"After what I did... Would you let me teach students after that? I mean, I'd probably just take
them out onto the field and get them killed." Squall held his tongue, and tactfully so. Zell,
oblivious, went on with his tirade. "Cid's never going to make me an instructor!"
"...I thought that you didn't want to be chained to a faculty?"
Zell stumbled. "Uh-wha, well, that was yesterday. This is today. I'm not getting any older, you
know."
"Younger?"
"Yeah. That's what I said."
Squall sighed drearily.
"God," Zell said. "It's going to be so embarrassing. I mean, they're going to call all of you
guys up, tell you how great you are, and then everyone is gonna be like, hey, wait? Who's that
dumb blonde guy over there? Why didn't they call on him? He must be some moron. I bet he--"
"Zell Dincht."
Zell's eyes bugged out and his head whirled. Sure enough, Cid was looking at him expectantly.
His heart rushed, and with that he did a little leap where he stood. "Me? Did you just
cal--Woo!!" And, with everyone at the table looking at him wearily, he threw victory punches in
the air and hooted out a, "Booyaaa!" and went running excitedly across the room.
Cid tugged at his collar and delivered his speech to a very twittery Zell.
Squall's chest increasingly filled with dread as Cid went on. He would be next, assuredly. His
arms crossed uncomfortably over his chest and he cast wary glances around where he stood, meeting
the eyes of the students who were staring in his direction. He hated this. Words couldn't
describe how much he hated this.
"Now, Squall doesn't like me to talk about him," Cid said all of a sudden, breaking into that
coy and playful little smile of his when Squall looked up at him. The man was irritated, his
eyes were burning, but Cid met it with a bright, chipper tone. With his free hand he crooked a
finger and beckoned him over. Squall, who was gritting his teeth by then and flaming inwardly,
shifted his hips and stalked toward Cid and his friends, who were watching him with a mixture of
sympathy and amusement. Amusement, namely.
When Squall got to the table, Cid set a hand on his shoulder for a moment and continued. "So
I'll go easy on him. In fact, I'll hardly talk about him at all... rather, I'll talk about myself."
This was when the dread began to wane and panic broke in.
"The Garden was a dream of mine, something that I have worked for ages to mold and create in its
image. We have met our purpose, reached the pinnacle of our existence... but this does not mean
that the story is over. In the course of human nature there will be many more reasons for the
Garden to be of use... and we must keep it running in preparation for those very events."
"However, I will not live forever. I'm getting older, and this past war has exposed all of the
cracks in my leadership and put light on all of the steel in Squall's. This man, over all else,
has single-handedly led usto the victories that we have earned. It is only right that I give my
power to the one who most deserves it--"
No. No-no-no!
"Squall, you have acted as the leader of this school during the most treacherous times that we
have ever seen -- and I think that it is about time that I formally hand my position over to
you. It is a position that you have filled for quite a while."
Everyone was staring at him. And then they were clapping, cheering. At his side he watched Zell
jump up in the air a few times, and then he saw Edea's proud smile. His embarrassment was so
great that he was getting dizzy with it. Over that, however, was intense fury. Cid knew him, Cid
had always boasted of knowing him...
...It should have been obvious that he didn't want this!
Squall held up his hand to the noise. It sickened him that everyone immediately silenced. Cid was
looking over at him bemusedly, but when Squall's lips parted he suddenly grew nervous. Squall
wasn't going to give an appreciation speech, that was for sure.
"T-thank you," Squall said. His voice cracked a little, and with a swallow he tried to build up
enough strength to speak clearly, like the leader that they wanted. "It is a great h..honor that
I am considered so deserving for this job. However, I did -not- lead us to victory. Our success
was the result of a combination of efforts, teamwork. The abilities that I lacked were made up
by the people who fought by my side, and that includes all of you who had participated in the war."
Everyone stared at him. It was rare to hear more than one sentence from the man. Squall knew
that he had been gifted with some sort of charisma, a way of speaking like a leader when he was
forced to, a way of making people feel safe in confident... but during times like these, it was
a trait that he didn't want.
"I've made a lot of mistakes, and I've done a lot of foolish things. However, I refuse to make a
mistake tonight. I may have been lucky, and I may have seemed skilled... but those were at
desperate times, times of war, and there are still a lot of things that I have to learn about
running a Garden."
It was lucky that he didn't have a microphone. The pausing breath that Squall took rattled with
enough nervousness to knock down a brick wall. Only those who were close to him realized just
how terrified he was, and they glanced over at him warily.
"There is only one person who has forged the war with that experience. She taught me everything
that I know." Swallowing back the lump in his throat, he motioned with a hand. "Quistis?"
The blonde looked at him for a moment, and in her eyes was a look that he knew all too well...
It was the look that she had given him when she stood over him in the infirmary after he had
snuck out to battle with Seifer, ever so long ago...
She understood him. She knew that he was weaseling out of this at her expense. His words may
have been sweet, they may have even been true... but they were also excuses.
She continued to give him that look for three entire heartbeats, and then with a gracious and
formal raise of her chin she stepped forward and out of the haphazard line that they had formed.
Everyone was quiet, and Squall, sick to his stomach still, lifted his hands and clapped them
together. For a moment it was only him, and then everyone else filled in the empty spaces in the
room.
Cid closed his eyes with acceptance, shook his head a little in silent humor, and put his
applause in with the rest.
"That was a mean thing that you did, Squall."
An hour had passed, and the earlier events were swept away with the one-two-three of spinning
waltzes. It was the way of a ceremony... brilliant and worthy of awe at the moment, but only for
that moment. People had even stopped staring at him for the most part.
He was on the floor with Quistis, moving with practiced ease. At first they had tried to have
fun with it, practicing dips and twirls, but eventually they simply swayed with the beat, his
hand at her waist and hers on his shoulder, clasping each-other's palms with casual ease. It
was easier to talk this way -- and Squall thought that Quistis deserved this conversation.
"...I'm sorry that I put you on the spot," He admitted. "But what I said was true. I can't be a
leader, Quistis--"
The woman snorted.
"I can't." Squall said, more softly this time. A year ago, and he would have simply stopped
talking to her right then in frustration. But after their adventures, Rinoa... he was now able
to iterate a thought. "Doing what you have to do during times of war, that's one thing... but
everyday things? I wouldn't know what to do with myself."
Quistis shrugged a little, putting a tiny and dry smile on her face. "Maybe. But you better damn
well be there for me to get advice from, if war comes about."
"Of course. Being Headmaster doesn't mean that you're in total control..."
"...Exactly." Quistis said smugly, pulling him into her trap. "Why are you afraid of it, then?"
Squall, however, did not seem to be amused by her response, and his more laid-back...for him, at
least...demeanor was torn apart by a tight-lipped frown.
"Look," She said. "I'm sorry. I'm just... curious."
"Maybe I'm a little dissatisfied right now." Squall said. "With the Garden, SeeD..."
"Because Rinoa doesn't seem very interested in it?"
Another frown. They shifted a bit and started moving across the floor a little, on account that
the music was picking up. Both were attuned enough to keep intensely in their conversation, even
though Squall didn't like the way that it was going. He didn't like talking about himself like
this.
"...Maybe. I don't know." Squall said.
Quistis looked up at him and cocked an eyebrow, as if she didn't believe him, but yet she
adjusted her expression and changed the subject with a flickering gaze down to their clasped
hands. "...How are they?"
"These?" He touched her delicately, and she him... but even with that precaution his wounded
palms hurt, although he did not burden Quistis with this information. "They're fine. What about
you, though? What do you think, a week more?" His hand left hers and he brushed her hair from
her face a little to touch the corner of her bandage.
"Oh," Quistis put her hand to it awkwardly and averted her eyes. "I hope so. The marks won't go
away, though..." She looked troubled by this for a moment, but then she looked over at Squall
with sadly bemused eyes. "We'll be like twins."
"We can be scar buddies," Squall added.
Quistis stopped for a moment and looked at him oddly, as if she couldn't believe the words that
had come out of his mouth. And then, after that moment of shock, she threw her head back and
laughed.
"What?"
"...Nothing." Quistis said. She covered her mouth for a moment and swallowed back her mirth.
Taking his hands again, they danced silently as the song wore on, although there was still a
little bit of that warmth in her eyes.
Squall seemed absentminded, however, and the silence gave his eyes an excuse to wander. Quistis
watched his face for a while, and then their feet... and when she looked at his profile again,
her gaze was serious and a little solemn.
"It's strange for you, with Rinoa not being here, isn't it?"
"...I guess. I don't know."
She brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes and looked over at the band for a moment, which
was reaching its crescendo. "I remember when she was here, before you were sent to Timber. She
managed to woo you right onto the dance floor..."
Something dropped in Squall's chest. Oddly, it seemed to have never hit bottom. Slowly he looked
down on her, with an expression that sent shivers down her spine. "...What?" He said after that
immeasurable pause.
"The garden party, after you became a SeeD. Remember?"
"I..." Squall paused. "Yes. A little... I..." His eyes narrowed and blinked, and he looked over
one shoulder, as if he were trying to pull something out of the scenery around him. "Maybe. I..."
Quistis stared up at him. The song was still going, but they had stopped in the middle of the
floor, their arms had dropped and they stood like two pillars in the middle of the melee, frozen
uncomfortably in time.
"Quistis.. I don't remember how we met. I don't remember when Rinoa and I first met..."
End Part 10/?
To Be Continued.
*"Scar Buddies" was taken from a -hilarious- humor
story titled "Final Fantasy VIII In A Nutshell" by
Sita Atis. I couldn't help but take the opportunity
to use it when the subject came up. Be sure and read
the story if you have the time. You won't regret it! ^-^
Disappointed and passed over
When I looked right through
To see you Naked and Oblivious
But you don't see me..."
--A Perfect Circle
"For When You Return"
Part X
"I'm scared," The little girl said.
"Why?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." She was very pretty, at least in the boy's eyes. Her
dark hair was messy and limp, though, it looked damp. She was sitting next to him on a little
wooden bridge that was more for show than efficiency, on account that he could jump the river
with ease. She swung her feet idly, not looking very frightened in the least. This made the
little boy very curious.
"How do you know?" He asked skeptically, dangling his toes in the cold current.
"I just do," She said.
The scrawny boy looked over at her. He was as messy as she was, he could feel it in the form of
the greasy hair on the back of his neck, his bony chest and legs, and the tatters of his clothes
against his flesh, a simple pair of trousers. "Why'd you tell me that, then?"
"Tell you what?"
"That you're scared."
"Well," The girl said thoughtfully, "If I tell you now, maybe you'll know."
"Know that you're scared?"
"Yes." The girl declared. "That way, you'll know that I'm just as scared as you are."
"...But...I'm not scared."
"...You will be." She said.
"Squall?"
His face crunched and through his strangled nostrils he tried to bring in a rush of clean air,
and with that air a touch of reality. The pull from sleep to arousal was slow and straining.
Steadily, paced, Squall became aware of the made-up bed beneath his back, the blaring overhead
lights, and the familiar smells of his dorm room.
~Strange~, he thought.
"Yo, Squall? You up?"
Squall rubbed his face eagerly and felt something slip away from him... not so much fear as it
was... discomfort. He had been very uncomfortable. And cold... Gods, was he cold. Tiredly, he
rubbed at his face and cracked open his eyes in order to look up at the man who had been talking
-- although the voice said it all.
"You sleep too much, man!" Zell said. He was dressed regally in his SeeD uniform with the front
neatly buttoned and his chin forced high by the stiff collar... but it didn't change his posture
or the fact that his hair still flew about in waves. With great exaggeration he tapped his watch
and then pointed to the dark window. "You got up this morning, walked to the cafeteria for a
while, and then slept. You call that living it up?"
Squall, who was half-awake and still offish about the events of the day before, cast the young
man a level look. Zell's face tightened and his lips forced into an exaggerated smile as he
forced himself to be totally oblivious to Squall's response -- although he didn't mention the
subject of 'living up' again. That was too close to 'great challenge,' and for some odd reason
his companions seemed to frown upon the concept.
"Anyway," Zell said, scratching at the back of his head a little. "The party, you know. I'd say
we could make our entrance in about a half-hour... I figured that I'd wake you up now... you're
one of those guys who like to spend a lot of time preening, right?"
Again, Squall didn't seem amused.
"...Sheesh, man. You'd think a guy wouldn't be so cranky after his nappy-wappy."
Squall grunted a response. By then he had shifted and pushed himself into a seated position at
the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor and his hands holding him up on either side. He
was struck with a wave of déjà vu, but the sensation passed.
"Yeah, so that's it--Oh! Oh, man! Wait!" Zell had blissfully put his unusually excited self--he
was almost crackling with energy--toward the door, but at his outburst he spun around once more,
waving his arms as if missiles were coming toward the Garden again and he had almost forgotten
to tell anyone. "Rinoa!"
"...What about her? Is she back?" Immediately Squall moved to ease himself to his feet.
"No, oh no." Zell had calmed a little, almost reassuringly, and with a little snicker he added.
"And -now- you talk. Bring up Rinoa and it's like..." He stiffened his shoulders and made his
hands into tight little claws, before droning on. "It's aliiiive."
Squall, who had settled back onto the bed, glared.
"Blaaargh, alliiive, alli--" Zell, still in his zombie-impersonation, slid his eyes down onto
Squall. "Gee. You're not amused. Why am I not surprised?" And, with that, he dropped his hands
and said casually. "She sent a transmission from Esthar. They can only do a few minutes at a
time, and we wouldn't have been able to fetch you before it ended. It takes a few hours for the
system to re-charge or whatever, so she'll try again tonight. She says not to have too much fun
without her... Something about not letting other girls hypnotize you into dancing with them or
something? What's up with that?"
"Nothing," Squall muttered.
"Fine. Sorry I asked." Zell fluttered his hands around. "Get ready, I'll see you at the party.
Take your time, it's not like you'll be the life of it."
"Ouch." Squall said sarcastically.
Zell winked playfully at him and walked out of the bedroom with a disco-like squiggle in his
step. Down the hall Squall could hear an off-key version of 'Staying Alive.'
Making his lips into an 'o' shape, Squall pushed out a whistle and rolled his eyes a little.
Achingly he eased himself to his feet and rubbed at his shoulders. That fight had done a number
on him, that was for certain. It would be a few days until he would be in top shape, even with
the magic that had been used on him.
Idly, he slipped out of his leather jacket--heh, only a soldier would nap while fully
dressed--and threw it on the bed. With a cracking stoop of his shoulders he took one hand into
another and looked down at his palm. Peeling the gauze away from it with a nauseating pull of
flesh and smell of medicines, he looked at the twin scars that ran along the joints where his
fingers met his palm, as well as on the hinge of the thumb. The markings were the same on his
other hand. His lip curled a little in stoic disgust.
On the table was the bottom half of his gunblade. It was useless, only the hilt would have been
of worth or personal value... But the thing had saved his life countless times... and yesterday
had been the last. His blade was broken beyond repair.
Scoffing at himself for mourning a weapon, Squall tightly re-wrapped his palms and unfastened
his belt. Idly he padded over to the drawers where his clothes were folded, and with an
indignant glance toward the ceiling he pulled the top one open. The image of his
squarely-arranged uniform brought back a bittersweet air and a smell of clean age.
Damn.
He -hated- parties.
"I -love- parties!" Selphie cried, throwing a triumphant arm in the air.
"Woah, now, Sephie," Irvine said, having narrowly missed being inadvertently struck in the face.
With a careful hand he set his fingertips upon her raised fist and eased it back down. "Don't
want to knock out anyone, here. They might stop the music over that one."
"Wouldn't that be a shame," Quistis said dryly.
Irvine, who was between the two women, grinned widely at her and set an arm across her shoulders.
"Oh, Quisty." With his free hand he swept his hand across the hallway, where various students
were heading toward the ballroom. "I know how hard it is -- these Garden parties are so drab!
Everyone is wearing the same thing! Your keen fashion-sense is screaming, isn't it? Poor, poor
girl."
Quistis feigned a punch into his side. Sure enough, she was dressed in the skirt and suit-coat
of a SeeD. The ensemble made her look uptight -- and she felt that way, too. Irvine, however,
filled the Balamb uniform quite nicely. He grinned widely at the blonde, before turning to
Selphie in order to shake his head tiredly. "Looks like my other date is getting feisty, here.
Can't a man ever have a woman on both arms in peace?"
He pushed the double-doors open and was immediately struck with a wave of noise. The music was
classical and yet carried a quick beat -- something that got the blood pumping, Irvine thought
pleasantly. The pleasantly warm room was filled with an array of navy-clad students, drinking
and dancing in small clusters... mainly kids having fun.
...And women, of course. Lots of them.
"He's got that weird grin on his face again," Selphie said.
Irvine, who had indeed been staring off at a group of the opposite sex for a few moments, was
immediately pulled out of his temporary stupor by Selphie's voice. Like a spring he set an arm
around her neck and rubbed his knuckles across the top of her head. Selphie, of course, erupted
into a fit of giggles and beat against him with the resolve of a prisoner that didn't want to be
released.
Irvine, still wrestling with the girl, looked at Quistis over one shoulder. "Noogie?" He asked,
as if he were offering a plate of ladyfingers.
Quistis raised an index finger at him. "Touch my head and -die-."
Irvine nodded a little, tasting the response like a wine. "...Fair enough." He finally said.
Quistis, her lips pursed, nodded at him in a manner that said she was glad that they had reached
an understanding. Irvine stuck his tongue out at her and released Selphie, who straightened
dizzily. Irvine, blanching, quickly set to try and straighten her madly tousled hair with
less-than-serious little pats, whistling innocently.
"Stop it, stop! Stop it! Your fingers are getting caught! Irrvine!"
"Guys!" A voice said at the same time. Zell, who had been... mingling, or something...lifted his
hand above the camouflage of a small crowd and jogged toward the trio. Although he wore a uniform,
his tattoo and wild-hair separated him from the masses... not to mention the way he moved. If
the guy had one thing, it was atmosphere.
"Zell." Quistis said flatly.
Zell, looking surprised, peered at her with wide eyes. "Woah. Quistis, you aren't still bitter
about yesterday, are you? How're the cuts doing, anyway? The gauze seems smaller, I can hardly
notice it." Quistis rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest irritably.
The spiky-haired blonde wet his lips and looked at the three of them. His mood, which had been
forced enthusiasm, fell away to a much more natural demeanor -- apprehension and guilt.
"Listen... Guys... If I would have known, if I had -any- idea... I would never had done this to
you. You know that, don't you?"
"Can't blame you for being stupid," Irvine said. Selphie elbowed him sharply in the side.
Zell rubbed his forehead. "...and, well, I'll take the blame. I mean, I -am- taking the blame.
None of you guys are going to get canned for it, alright?"
"I don't want to be mad," Selphie said.
Quistis and Irvine didn't say anything for a long while. Eventually, however, Irvine cleared his
throat and said stiffly, "I don't want to spoil the party with this."
"Let us help with the planning, next time," Quistis added. She seemed even stonier than Irvine,
but the fact that she was actually talking was enough to lighten Zell's mood considerably --
after all, this was Zell.
However, he couldn't help but think to himself with some degree of shame weighing down on his
heart... His grandfather would never had made this mistake.
"Hey," He eventually said, cocking a thumb behind him. There was a table at the far end of the
ballroom where the headmaster and his staff sat, drinking and talking. "Matron is over there...
do you guys want to try talking to her?"
Although Edea had been pardoned for what she had done, everyone still felt a little bit of
apprehension when dealing with her. Their memories were faint... they knew that they loved her,
or that they at least were -supposed- to love her, but it took effort sometimes to stand by her
side as a friend rather than a threat.
Cid had been watching them from across the room, and he raised a glass of champagne in silent
greeting. Irvine made a tipping-of the hat motion, Selphie twiddled her fingertips, and Quistis
nodded formally. Zell, however, who was facing the other direction, saw Squall enter the ballroom
doors (he was late, imagine that) and waved madly at him. Squall met his enthusiasm with a
raised eyebrow and a slow saunter in their direction.
"And the prince has arrived," Zell declared.
He didn't quite know just how close to the truth he was. At the moment the doors fell to a shut
behind them there was a definite clang of a spoon against the side of a glass, and everyone in
the room turned to look at the long table where the staff had seated. Cid Kramer was standing,
looking as old and weary as he was... but there was no doubting the definite twinkle in his
eyes.
Squall, who had fallen into step just behind Selphie, raised his head with a glistening swing of
his hair and narrowed his eyes curiously. A quick glance to the rest proved that they knew as
little as he did.
"Excuse me," Cid said, although he clearly had everyone's attention. "Before we start the
festivities tonight, I'd like to make a few announcements. As most of you know, this party has
a reason beyond the reconstruction of Balamb Garden." And, with that, the man motioned toward
the five SeeDs that were standing in a cluster near the doors.
No. Oh, no. Squall could feel eyes on him. A pain rushed from his stomach into his throat, and
if he weren't so set in stone by his sense of duty and discipline, he would have been shoving
his way outside at that very moment.
"These five members of this establishment that are with us today have done something that I
cannot properly remember anyone else doing in the history of our time. Not only have they saved
this Garden from certain demise, but they also have put their wondrous abilities into saving our
world from ending as we know it."
It was so quiet. It was so goddamned quiet. Everyone was staring at them. Squall bored his eyes
intensely into Cid as he talked, trying to force him to stop... If the man had dropped into coma
right there, Squall would have almost jumped up clapped his heels together with relief. However,
Cid did not stop -- he even went as far as to look over at Squall and wink. -Wink-!
Damn him.
"There is little that I can offer them, or, at least, nothing that can possibly reward them for
what they had done. As a SeeD, your life is contracted to your mission... but this was a
mission that no normal soldier could have pulled off, duty aside." Cid paused and adjusted his
glasses a little. The hand that had been holding his glass in the manner of a toast lowered it
to the table.
"Quistis Trepe, if you'd come up here for a moment."
Squall wasn't looking, but he heard Quistis stir and then saw her in his plane of vision as she
moved across the room with a poise that he could never have. She looked almost as if she were
expecting this. Eventually she made it to Cid's side. First she shook his hand, and then
Edea's--how ironic, Squall couldn't help but think.
"Quistis, I'm aware that you have given up your Instructor's license..."
Next to him, Squall heard Zell huff out a little, "Wha?" It acted as a reminder to his stricken
mind, and then he realized what the man was confused about -- Quistis had told them that her
license had been taken away from her. But then, when Squall thought about it... Poor leadership?
Quistis? It was a lie so absurd that he was almost ashamed for having believed it.
Quistis was playing with the hair that covered the most of her wrapped jaw, as if she knew full
well that they were all looking at her curiously. However, she did not glance their way, and
with a nod she listened to Cid continue with formal grace.
"However, in the wake of these events, I would like to renew it." Cid went on for a long while,
explaining Quistis's strong points and her history with the garden, as well as how beneficial
she would be to the Garden during these new times. Quistis listened on modestly, and with a nod
she accepted the offer with a second handshake and a little nod to the applause that broke out
within the room.
"Selphie Tilmitt, would you please step foreward?"
She brushed past him as she went up to join Quistis. That natural bounce in her step had all but
died, and she glanced about warily. Again, she shared her greetings with Cid and Edea, and to
Squall's dull shock she was given the same offer and history-based speech. Selphie? She would be
almost as bad as Zell when it came to this, if not worse. It just wasn't in her nature.
And yet, with all that she had been through... What better person could instruct future
soldiers? Her bravery in the face of Trabia's potential and then definite destruction was not
lost on him. They all had learned so much.
"Irvine Kinneas, if you'd please?"
Squall, who was slowly beginning to wear out of his horror, lowered his head a little and rubbed
at the bridge of his nose irritably. Ceremonies. What a horrid, horrid thing... A crucifixion
would have been more pleasant.
"Oh man, oh man..." Zell was saying. He'd been saying it ever since Irvine was called. Squall
had been ignoring him, but eventually it wore on his nerves until he looked over and snapped out a,
"What?"
"Oh man," Zell said again, for good measure. "They aren't going to call me."
"What?"
"After what I did... Would you let me teach students after that? I mean, I'd probably just take
them out onto the field and get them killed." Squall held his tongue, and tactfully so. Zell,
oblivious, went on with his tirade. "Cid's never going to make me an instructor!"
"...I thought that you didn't want to be chained to a faculty?"
Zell stumbled. "Uh-wha, well, that was yesterday. This is today. I'm not getting any older, you
know."
"Younger?"
"Yeah. That's what I said."
Squall sighed drearily.
"God," Zell said. "It's going to be so embarrassing. I mean, they're going to call all of you
guys up, tell you how great you are, and then everyone is gonna be like, hey, wait? Who's that
dumb blonde guy over there? Why didn't they call on him? He must be some moron. I bet he--"
"Zell Dincht."
Zell's eyes bugged out and his head whirled. Sure enough, Cid was looking at him expectantly.
His heart rushed, and with that he did a little leap where he stood. "Me? Did you just
cal--Woo!!" And, with everyone at the table looking at him wearily, he threw victory punches in
the air and hooted out a, "Booyaaa!" and went running excitedly across the room.
Cid tugged at his collar and delivered his speech to a very twittery Zell.
Squall's chest increasingly filled with dread as Cid went on. He would be next, assuredly. His
arms crossed uncomfortably over his chest and he cast wary glances around where he stood, meeting
the eyes of the students who were staring in his direction. He hated this. Words couldn't
describe how much he hated this.
"Now, Squall doesn't like me to talk about him," Cid said all of a sudden, breaking into that
coy and playful little smile of his when Squall looked up at him. The man was irritated, his
eyes were burning, but Cid met it with a bright, chipper tone. With his free hand he crooked a
finger and beckoned him over. Squall, who was gritting his teeth by then and flaming inwardly,
shifted his hips and stalked toward Cid and his friends, who were watching him with a mixture of
sympathy and amusement. Amusement, namely.
When Squall got to the table, Cid set a hand on his shoulder for a moment and continued. "So
I'll go easy on him. In fact, I'll hardly talk about him at all... rather, I'll talk about myself."
This was when the dread began to wane and panic broke in.
"The Garden was a dream of mine, something that I have worked for ages to mold and create in its
image. We have met our purpose, reached the pinnacle of our existence... but this does not mean
that the story is over. In the course of human nature there will be many more reasons for the
Garden to be of use... and we must keep it running in preparation for those very events."
"However, I will not live forever. I'm getting older, and this past war has exposed all of the
cracks in my leadership and put light on all of the steel in Squall's. This man, over all else,
has single-handedly led usto the victories that we have earned. It is only right that I give my
power to the one who most deserves it--"
No. No-no-no!
"Squall, you have acted as the leader of this school during the most treacherous times that we
have ever seen -- and I think that it is about time that I formally hand my position over to
you. It is a position that you have filled for quite a while."
Everyone was staring at him. And then they were clapping, cheering. At his side he watched Zell
jump up in the air a few times, and then he saw Edea's proud smile. His embarrassment was so
great that he was getting dizzy with it. Over that, however, was intense fury. Cid knew him, Cid
had always boasted of knowing him...
...It should have been obvious that he didn't want this!
Squall held up his hand to the noise. It sickened him that everyone immediately silenced. Cid was
looking over at him bemusedly, but when Squall's lips parted he suddenly grew nervous. Squall
wasn't going to give an appreciation speech, that was for sure.
"T-thank you," Squall said. His voice cracked a little, and with a swallow he tried to build up
enough strength to speak clearly, like the leader that they wanted. "It is a great h..honor that
I am considered so deserving for this job. However, I did -not- lead us to victory. Our success
was the result of a combination of efforts, teamwork. The abilities that I lacked were made up
by the people who fought by my side, and that includes all of you who had participated in the war."
Everyone stared at him. It was rare to hear more than one sentence from the man. Squall knew
that he had been gifted with some sort of charisma, a way of speaking like a leader when he was
forced to, a way of making people feel safe in confident... but during times like these, it was
a trait that he didn't want.
"I've made a lot of mistakes, and I've done a lot of foolish things. However, I refuse to make a
mistake tonight. I may have been lucky, and I may have seemed skilled... but those were at
desperate times, times of war, and there are still a lot of things that I have to learn about
running a Garden."
It was lucky that he didn't have a microphone. The pausing breath that Squall took rattled with
enough nervousness to knock down a brick wall. Only those who were close to him realized just
how terrified he was, and they glanced over at him warily.
"There is only one person who has forged the war with that experience. She taught me everything
that I know." Swallowing back the lump in his throat, he motioned with a hand. "Quistis?"
The blonde looked at him for a moment, and in her eyes was a look that he knew all too well...
It was the look that she had given him when she stood over him in the infirmary after he had
snuck out to battle with Seifer, ever so long ago...
She understood him. She knew that he was weaseling out of this at her expense. His words may
have been sweet, they may have even been true... but they were also excuses.
She continued to give him that look for three entire heartbeats, and then with a gracious and
formal raise of her chin she stepped forward and out of the haphazard line that they had formed.
Everyone was quiet, and Squall, sick to his stomach still, lifted his hands and clapped them
together. For a moment it was only him, and then everyone else filled in the empty spaces in the
room.
Cid closed his eyes with acceptance, shook his head a little in silent humor, and put his
applause in with the rest.
"That was a mean thing that you did, Squall."
An hour had passed, and the earlier events were swept away with the one-two-three of spinning
waltzes. It was the way of a ceremony... brilliant and worthy of awe at the moment, but only for
that moment. People had even stopped staring at him for the most part.
He was on the floor with Quistis, moving with practiced ease. At first they had tried to have
fun with it, practicing dips and twirls, but eventually they simply swayed with the beat, his
hand at her waist and hers on his shoulder, clasping each-other's palms with casual ease. It
was easier to talk this way -- and Squall thought that Quistis deserved this conversation.
"...I'm sorry that I put you on the spot," He admitted. "But what I said was true. I can't be a
leader, Quistis--"
The woman snorted.
"I can't." Squall said, more softly this time. A year ago, and he would have simply stopped
talking to her right then in frustration. But after their adventures, Rinoa... he was now able
to iterate a thought. "Doing what you have to do during times of war, that's one thing... but
everyday things? I wouldn't know what to do with myself."
Quistis shrugged a little, putting a tiny and dry smile on her face. "Maybe. But you better damn
well be there for me to get advice from, if war comes about."
"Of course. Being Headmaster doesn't mean that you're in total control..."
"...Exactly." Quistis said smugly, pulling him into her trap. "Why are you afraid of it, then?"
Squall, however, did not seem to be amused by her response, and his more laid-back...for him, at
least...demeanor was torn apart by a tight-lipped frown.
"Look," She said. "I'm sorry. I'm just... curious."
"Maybe I'm a little dissatisfied right now." Squall said. "With the Garden, SeeD..."
"Because Rinoa doesn't seem very interested in it?"
Another frown. They shifted a bit and started moving across the floor a little, on account that
the music was picking up. Both were attuned enough to keep intensely in their conversation, even
though Squall didn't like the way that it was going. He didn't like talking about himself like
this.
"...Maybe. I don't know." Squall said.
Quistis looked up at him and cocked an eyebrow, as if she didn't believe him, but yet she
adjusted her expression and changed the subject with a flickering gaze down to their clasped
hands. "...How are they?"
"These?" He touched her delicately, and she him... but even with that precaution his wounded
palms hurt, although he did not burden Quistis with this information. "They're fine. What about
you, though? What do you think, a week more?" His hand left hers and he brushed her hair from
her face a little to touch the corner of her bandage.
"Oh," Quistis put her hand to it awkwardly and averted her eyes. "I hope so. The marks won't go
away, though..." She looked troubled by this for a moment, but then she looked over at Squall
with sadly bemused eyes. "We'll be like twins."
"We can be scar buddies," Squall added.
Quistis stopped for a moment and looked at him oddly, as if she couldn't believe the words that
had come out of his mouth. And then, after that moment of shock, she threw her head back and
laughed.
"What?"
"...Nothing." Quistis said. She covered her mouth for a moment and swallowed back her mirth.
Taking his hands again, they danced silently as the song wore on, although there was still a
little bit of that warmth in her eyes.
Squall seemed absentminded, however, and the silence gave his eyes an excuse to wander. Quistis
watched his face for a while, and then their feet... and when she looked at his profile again,
her gaze was serious and a little solemn.
"It's strange for you, with Rinoa not being here, isn't it?"
"...I guess. I don't know."
She brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes and looked over at the band for a moment, which
was reaching its crescendo. "I remember when she was here, before you were sent to Timber. She
managed to woo you right onto the dance floor..."
Something dropped in Squall's chest. Oddly, it seemed to have never hit bottom. Slowly he looked
down on her, with an expression that sent shivers down her spine. "...What?" He said after that
immeasurable pause.
"The garden party, after you became a SeeD. Remember?"
"I..." Squall paused. "Yes. A little... I..." His eyes narrowed and blinked, and he looked over
one shoulder, as if he were trying to pull something out of the scenery around him. "Maybe. I..."
Quistis stared up at him. The song was still going, but they had stopped in the middle of the
floor, their arms had dropped and they stood like two pillars in the middle of the melee, frozen
uncomfortably in time.
"Quistis.. I don't remember how we met. I don't remember when Rinoa and I first met..."
End Part 10/?
To Be Continued.
*"Scar Buddies" was taken from a -hilarious- humor
story titled "Final Fantasy VIII In A Nutshell" by
Sita Atis. I couldn't help but take the opportunity
to use it when the subject came up. Be sure and read
the story if you have the time. You won't regret it! ^-^