"You're so vain
I bet you think this song is about you
Don't you?
Don't you?
Don't you?"
-Nine Inch Nails
For When You Return
Part XVI
"Phoenix Down," Irvine said systematically.
"Check." Zell replied, digging through their mess of supplies and holding up a few packages. The Garden utility room was dank and dreary, and both men sounded as melancholy as they felt.
"Antidote?"
"Check."
"Eye drops?"
Rinoa watched them from the hallway with a crooked neck as Quistis took her past the open door. There was a painful longing in her eyes, as well as in her bicep, as the blonde's grip firmed at Rinoa's sudden resistance. Her chest rose and fell sharply, and her pale nostrils flared:
"Quistis," she begged.
Quistis shook her head with a tremble of her hair. "No. They can handle it. We need you here, Rinoa."
"Bullshit." Rinoa said darkly. Quistis nearly started at the tone of her voice, but she quickly recovered and lifted her chin. Falling silent--she wasn't going to even bother with a reply--she dragged the raven-haired girl down the hallway and toward the dormitory. Rinoa dragged her feet and was ultimately difficult, but she followed.
However, she -literally- dug her heels in as they got to the dorms.
Quistis jerked, as this sudden objection caught her off guard. Rinoa winced as the woman's fingers accidentally dug into the muscles of her arms, but she leveled her voice and said, quite frankly, "Stop."
"What?"
"I want to stay in Squall's room."
There were standing right in front of the missing SeeD's sleeping area. She hadn't noticed until Rinoa spoke--her mind was too busy on other things. The mission. The mystery... The coldness that seemed to seep out from the normally cheerful girl like potent radiation. "Rinoa..." Quistis started. She wasn't sure if she liked the idea.
Rinoa set her jaw so firmly that Quistis wouldn't have been surprised if it squeaked. Her words, as a result, came out even stonier. "I... want... to...stay...in...Squall's...room." As if saying it more slowly and clearly would give her some leeway. Quistis looked into her eyes for a moment--Rinoa didn't even begin to waver--and after a long moment simply dropped her hold on the girl and reached over to push the door open. She resisted an urge to sweep her arm out like a bellhop in an expensive motel as Rinoa stiffly, chin raised, stepped into the room.
However, Quistis simply followed her to the doorway and leaned against the frame. "I want you to try and rest a little, alright? Sit tight, and we'll talk a little later tonight. The cafeteria will bring you something to eat... is there anything you'd like in particular?"
Rinoa simply glared at her with steely brown eyes.
Quistis sighed. "Listen, Rinoa. There's nothing that we can do until we get a hold of Odine. You -know- that. Until then, we need to try and stay calm."
Rinoa, still intense, nodded with a chill.
Quistis watched her for a moment, frowning. After a while--the tension was beginning to solidify--she closed the door and left Rinoa on her own.
She sat on the corner of the bed with a rigid spine. Despite the fact that no one was watching her, Rinoa continued to look ahead in that same icy fashion. Birds sang outside the window in the Balamb breeze, and sunshine cast a warm glow across the room... but despite the atmosphere, Rinoa knew that she was a prisoner here. She was not physically contained, no, but she knew that everyone was keeping tabs on her. It made her so angry.
Why was she treated differently from everyone else?
She didn't need their protection.
She didn't need their pity.
Rinoa shoved both fists angrily into the mattress on either side of her. Her teeth clenched, her head dropped, her eyes closed. And then, very quite firmly, she stood and kicked the wall that was across from the bed. The jolt snapped through her leg and she almost fell, but despite the pain it felt good. Wonderful, in fact.
Her father hadn't stopped her before, and neither could they. She would not stand idly as her world shattered around her. She would not let herself become a burden.
These thoughts gave her a new rush of energy, and Rinoa untied the front cords of her powder-blue duster with firm fingers. It dropped down around her ankles, and then she bent to pull open the drawer next to Squall's bed. There were a few coats there, something warmer and perhaps less recognizable from afar. Esthar, after all, wasn't nearly as warm as Balamb was.
She pulled up his SeeD jacket and flapped it open. In that motion, however, she was distracted by the garment underneath. Her jaw went slack, her eyes glazed, and her hands--still holding the jacket--lowered.
A formal coat.
Rinoa tipped her head slightly to one side and stared fixedly at it. And then, in a crest, she felt her eyes crinkle and the jacket drop from her clammy fingertips. Swallowing back tears, she ran her fingers across the dark fabric folded neatly in the drawer and shakily drew it out.
Holding it open and looking at it, she could not resist her throat from thickening tightly. Biting her lip, she drew it over one arm, and then around to the other. The garment hung too large on her, but it carried with it an aura so strong that it was almost an embrace.
She lifted the collar and gently took in the scent that lingered in the fabric. Squall. She shuddered at the sudden flow of memories, and miserably drew her arms tightly around herself until her breath nearly stole from her chest.
"...Dance with me?" She said in the phantom of a whisper.
There was only her voice, of course. No reply, no echo. Nothing.
Nothing.
The coat suddenly felt very, very heavy.
Resisting hysterics, Rinoa snuffed out short, suffocating gasps. She clung to her stomach tightly, tried to keep her legs from giving out, and pinched her eyes shut to keep them from spilling over, or loosing all ability to focus sanely. This was no time to be weak. If she broke now, everyone else would be right.
She would not be idle.
She would -not-.
When Rinoa opened her eyes, they were rimmed red. She shuddered again, this time to shake away some of the agony that settled onto her like lice. It didn't go away, but it moved to a place on her that was a little more bearable, although the dreary weight remained.
She had left her weapons in her room. It worried her to travel so far as to go that way, especially if she was being watched. Biting her lip, she rummaged around in search of Squall's gunblade, but it was nowhere to be found. This irritated her, but she had little choice -- there would be weapons in the Ragnorak, and if not, she would find something in Esthar. This wasn't necessarily calming, but it did set her mind at ease for a while, if only in a small, pathetic way.
Besides, her biggest problem was how to get out of here and to the Ragnorak without being noticed.
Twisting her mouth, she looked around the room, this time examining the ceiling and walls with equal interest. She walked to the window, but upon looking out she knew that it would have been deadly to try and escape that way. Frustrated, she stepped back and angrilly stomped one foot.
That's when she saw the air vent. It was on the ceiling and in a corner, just above the small sink and mirror that the room was issued. Rinoa's heart stopped and she felt her breath push out silent pleads as she crossed the room and looked up. Beyond the vent, it looked dark. Where did it go, and would she fit?
Her face in the mirror was white, and there was a darkness in her eyes that Rinoa had a difficulty recognizing when she looked down at herself. For a long while she stared...
(Rinoa, do you remember the Lunar Base?)
(It's...it's foggy...Quistis...I...)
(I need you to get all the information that you can on Guardian Forces. I've got to know about removing them, and what effects they have on the mind. Can you do that, Rinoa?)
(..Zee Guardian Force replaces some of the memories, and they take up more and more as they get bigger and bigger, you zee?)
(Whatever.)
Rinoa squeezed her eyes shut again. She didn't want to look at herself anymore.
Taking a breath, she set one hand on the wall to brace herself and got one foot up onto the sink. With her free hand she managed to get herself up. It was slippery, and once she almost fell, but eventually she got her balance and was able to slowly get her hands up flat against the vent. It was then when she realized that the thing had to have been screwed in tightly. There was no way...
It moved under her hold. Rinoa's eyes flew wide, and with surprised shock she carefully eased it up out of its frame and shifted it in order to slide it back. It was then when she realized that something was weighing it down, something small enough to slide across the angled grate and fall to the door with a small, papery -thwack-.
Rinoa, very quite astonished at this point, looked down past her feet and saw a leather-bound book lying flat on the floor.
Suddenly, she forgot about everything else. Slipping down from the sink into a crouch, she found herself easing into a seated position on the floor. With shaky hands she picked up the thin booklet and eased it open. She hadn't realized it yet, but her breath had frozen in her chest.
It took a while for her to focus, but when she did, her excitement made her tightened insides feel almost electrified. She tried to breathe now, but something was stopping her... and oddly, she didn't seem to quite notice or care, at least not beyond a subliminal level.
The handwriting was choppy and restrained, and yet carried an elegance in its curves that contrasted with the rawness. Squall. Oh, Gods, -Squall- wrote this.
. . . . . ."Irvine suggested that we all keep journals. I think it's a dumb idea, but after everything that happened... I mean, how strange is that? My entire childhood was hidden by these Guardian Forces. -Everything-. And look at us, we're still using them. The soldier's heart never fears, I guess. I think that the soldier's heart is just stupid..."
Rinoa flipped the page.
. . . . . . "...We're heading off to find Edea again. We have to fight our Matron."
The sentences were becoming shorter, more stilted. Less eloquent. Rinoa frowned, and began flipping through the book a little more quickly now, skimming. For what, she did not quite know.
. . . . . . "We went to the Lunar Base today."
. . . . . . "I upgraded my gunblade. It was worth the money, I think."
. . . . . . "I had another stupid dream about Laguna. What an idiot."
Rinoa's eyebrows crinkled, and she felt something begin to build. With each lifeless, boring page, it got stronger and stronger... strong waves pressing against a dam.
. . . . . . "Laguna is alive. He's the president of Esthar now. Holy hell. What a shock."
. . . . . . "I finally got my gunblade to Lionheart. It took a lot, but..."
And then the pages were blank. Rinoa stared at the whiteness for the longest of time, and then it hit her--
Squall had hardly mentioned her once.
End Part 18/?
To Be Continued.
I bet you think this song is about you
Don't you?
Don't you?
Don't you?"
-Nine Inch Nails
For When You Return
Part XVI
"Phoenix Down," Irvine said systematically.
"Check." Zell replied, digging through their mess of supplies and holding up a few packages. The Garden utility room was dank and dreary, and both men sounded as melancholy as they felt.
"Antidote?"
"Check."
"Eye drops?"
Rinoa watched them from the hallway with a crooked neck as Quistis took her past the open door. There was a painful longing in her eyes, as well as in her bicep, as the blonde's grip firmed at Rinoa's sudden resistance. Her chest rose and fell sharply, and her pale nostrils flared:
"Quistis," she begged.
Quistis shook her head with a tremble of her hair. "No. They can handle it. We need you here, Rinoa."
"Bullshit." Rinoa said darkly. Quistis nearly started at the tone of her voice, but she quickly recovered and lifted her chin. Falling silent--she wasn't going to even bother with a reply--she dragged the raven-haired girl down the hallway and toward the dormitory. Rinoa dragged her feet and was ultimately difficult, but she followed.
However, she -literally- dug her heels in as they got to the dorms.
Quistis jerked, as this sudden objection caught her off guard. Rinoa winced as the woman's fingers accidentally dug into the muscles of her arms, but she leveled her voice and said, quite frankly, "Stop."
"What?"
"I want to stay in Squall's room."
There were standing right in front of the missing SeeD's sleeping area. She hadn't noticed until Rinoa spoke--her mind was too busy on other things. The mission. The mystery... The coldness that seemed to seep out from the normally cheerful girl like potent radiation. "Rinoa..." Quistis started. She wasn't sure if she liked the idea.
Rinoa set her jaw so firmly that Quistis wouldn't have been surprised if it squeaked. Her words, as a result, came out even stonier. "I... want... to...stay...in...Squall's...room." As if saying it more slowly and clearly would give her some leeway. Quistis looked into her eyes for a moment--Rinoa didn't even begin to waver--and after a long moment simply dropped her hold on the girl and reached over to push the door open. She resisted an urge to sweep her arm out like a bellhop in an expensive motel as Rinoa stiffly, chin raised, stepped into the room.
However, Quistis simply followed her to the doorway and leaned against the frame. "I want you to try and rest a little, alright? Sit tight, and we'll talk a little later tonight. The cafeteria will bring you something to eat... is there anything you'd like in particular?"
Rinoa simply glared at her with steely brown eyes.
Quistis sighed. "Listen, Rinoa. There's nothing that we can do until we get a hold of Odine. You -know- that. Until then, we need to try and stay calm."
Rinoa, still intense, nodded with a chill.
Quistis watched her for a moment, frowning. After a while--the tension was beginning to solidify--she closed the door and left Rinoa on her own.
She sat on the corner of the bed with a rigid spine. Despite the fact that no one was watching her, Rinoa continued to look ahead in that same icy fashion. Birds sang outside the window in the Balamb breeze, and sunshine cast a warm glow across the room... but despite the atmosphere, Rinoa knew that she was a prisoner here. She was not physically contained, no, but she knew that everyone was keeping tabs on her. It made her so angry.
Why was she treated differently from everyone else?
She didn't need their protection.
She didn't need their pity.
Rinoa shoved both fists angrily into the mattress on either side of her. Her teeth clenched, her head dropped, her eyes closed. And then, very quite firmly, she stood and kicked the wall that was across from the bed. The jolt snapped through her leg and she almost fell, but despite the pain it felt good. Wonderful, in fact.
Her father hadn't stopped her before, and neither could they. She would not stand idly as her world shattered around her. She would not let herself become a burden.
These thoughts gave her a new rush of energy, and Rinoa untied the front cords of her powder-blue duster with firm fingers. It dropped down around her ankles, and then she bent to pull open the drawer next to Squall's bed. There were a few coats there, something warmer and perhaps less recognizable from afar. Esthar, after all, wasn't nearly as warm as Balamb was.
She pulled up his SeeD jacket and flapped it open. In that motion, however, she was distracted by the garment underneath. Her jaw went slack, her eyes glazed, and her hands--still holding the jacket--lowered.
A formal coat.
Rinoa tipped her head slightly to one side and stared fixedly at it. And then, in a crest, she felt her eyes crinkle and the jacket drop from her clammy fingertips. Swallowing back tears, she ran her fingers across the dark fabric folded neatly in the drawer and shakily drew it out.
Holding it open and looking at it, she could not resist her throat from thickening tightly. Biting her lip, she drew it over one arm, and then around to the other. The garment hung too large on her, but it carried with it an aura so strong that it was almost an embrace.
She lifted the collar and gently took in the scent that lingered in the fabric. Squall. She shuddered at the sudden flow of memories, and miserably drew her arms tightly around herself until her breath nearly stole from her chest.
"...Dance with me?" She said in the phantom of a whisper.
There was only her voice, of course. No reply, no echo. Nothing.
Nothing.
The coat suddenly felt very, very heavy.
Resisting hysterics, Rinoa snuffed out short, suffocating gasps. She clung to her stomach tightly, tried to keep her legs from giving out, and pinched her eyes shut to keep them from spilling over, or loosing all ability to focus sanely. This was no time to be weak. If she broke now, everyone else would be right.
She would not be idle.
She would -not-.
When Rinoa opened her eyes, they were rimmed red. She shuddered again, this time to shake away some of the agony that settled onto her like lice. It didn't go away, but it moved to a place on her that was a little more bearable, although the dreary weight remained.
She had left her weapons in her room. It worried her to travel so far as to go that way, especially if she was being watched. Biting her lip, she rummaged around in search of Squall's gunblade, but it was nowhere to be found. This irritated her, but she had little choice -- there would be weapons in the Ragnorak, and if not, she would find something in Esthar. This wasn't necessarily calming, but it did set her mind at ease for a while, if only in a small, pathetic way.
Besides, her biggest problem was how to get out of here and to the Ragnorak without being noticed.
Twisting her mouth, she looked around the room, this time examining the ceiling and walls with equal interest. She walked to the window, but upon looking out she knew that it would have been deadly to try and escape that way. Frustrated, she stepped back and angrilly stomped one foot.
That's when she saw the air vent. It was on the ceiling and in a corner, just above the small sink and mirror that the room was issued. Rinoa's heart stopped and she felt her breath push out silent pleads as she crossed the room and looked up. Beyond the vent, it looked dark. Where did it go, and would she fit?
Her face in the mirror was white, and there was a darkness in her eyes that Rinoa had a difficulty recognizing when she looked down at herself. For a long while she stared...
(Rinoa, do you remember the Lunar Base?)
(It's...it's foggy...Quistis...I...)
(I need you to get all the information that you can on Guardian Forces. I've got to know about removing them, and what effects they have on the mind. Can you do that, Rinoa?)
(..Zee Guardian Force replaces some of the memories, and they take up more and more as they get bigger and bigger, you zee?)
(Whatever.)
Rinoa squeezed her eyes shut again. She didn't want to look at herself anymore.
Taking a breath, she set one hand on the wall to brace herself and got one foot up onto the sink. With her free hand she managed to get herself up. It was slippery, and once she almost fell, but eventually she got her balance and was able to slowly get her hands up flat against the vent. It was then when she realized that the thing had to have been screwed in tightly. There was no way...
It moved under her hold. Rinoa's eyes flew wide, and with surprised shock she carefully eased it up out of its frame and shifted it in order to slide it back. It was then when she realized that something was weighing it down, something small enough to slide across the angled grate and fall to the door with a small, papery -thwack-.
Rinoa, very quite astonished at this point, looked down past her feet and saw a leather-bound book lying flat on the floor.
Suddenly, she forgot about everything else. Slipping down from the sink into a crouch, she found herself easing into a seated position on the floor. With shaky hands she picked up the thin booklet and eased it open. She hadn't realized it yet, but her breath had frozen in her chest.
It took a while for her to focus, but when she did, her excitement made her tightened insides feel almost electrified. She tried to breathe now, but something was stopping her... and oddly, she didn't seem to quite notice or care, at least not beyond a subliminal level.
The handwriting was choppy and restrained, and yet carried an elegance in its curves that contrasted with the rawness. Squall. Oh, Gods, -Squall- wrote this.
. . . . . ."Irvine suggested that we all keep journals. I think it's a dumb idea, but after everything that happened... I mean, how strange is that? My entire childhood was hidden by these Guardian Forces. -Everything-. And look at us, we're still using them. The soldier's heart never fears, I guess. I think that the soldier's heart is just stupid..."
Rinoa flipped the page.
. . . . . . "...We're heading off to find Edea again. We have to fight our Matron."
The sentences were becoming shorter, more stilted. Less eloquent. Rinoa frowned, and began flipping through the book a little more quickly now, skimming. For what, she did not quite know.
. . . . . . "We went to the Lunar Base today."
. . . . . . "I upgraded my gunblade. It was worth the money, I think."
. . . . . . "I had another stupid dream about Laguna. What an idiot."
Rinoa's eyebrows crinkled, and she felt something begin to build. With each lifeless, boring page, it got stronger and stronger... strong waves pressing against a dam.
. . . . . . "Laguna is alive. He's the president of Esthar now. Holy hell. What a shock."
. . . . . . "I finally got my gunblade to Lionheart. It took a lot, but..."
And then the pages were blank. Rinoa stared at the whiteness for the longest of time, and then it hit her--
Squall had hardly mentioned her once.
End Part 18/?
To Be Continued.