Exhaustion had made sleep come easy that day for the Posse and Kadowaki. Though sleep was realized without effort, rest would not truly come for those weary, as the unconscious continued the path of the conscious mind for them. It was a damning situation for the Garden even with a condition diagnosed and in a position to be removed. Absolution, it seemed for each of them, was little better that the pandemic itself, for no treatment would fail to yield devastation unto the academy. Their minds sought to solve the potent dilemma, but alas, there were no solutions, only problems.
Quistis Trepe would have no rest either, but for much more understandable and mild reasons. She simply didn't need it any longer. After the effects of the drug had fully waned off, she had spent so much time in the subliminal state of oblivious unconsciousness that she was more energetic than she had been in quite some days as night came to be. It was an energy, however, to be left unused and alone, as she remained in the captivity of her confining infirmary bed. She was to be "quarantined" there, as the doctor put it, to give her the chance to regain her memory in private. So far it was a vain effort undertaken. A light sheet was wrapped tightly around her sleek body, woven of fabric and of an invasive amnesia.
It had tantalized her before, with the teasing segments of memory that refused to be recollected. Until now, they were buried by the beings infused into her mind, and until now, they were memories long past, those of her childhood and adolescence. Never before had events of such recent occurrence been reaped from her remembrance. She could barely recall her student walking into her suite before sitting down, after that: nothing.
Restlessness was pervasive on that eve in the Garden. Most of the students were able to sense the fact that something was wrong just because everything felt all right. The other people that actually knew what was wrong had their reasons for worry, the faculty and staff included, with Xu upset in particular. She knew of the coming fall of her friend and had just received word late that day about her assault. Still, she could not help but to suspect that perhaps what was being done was virtuous, even if it were to become as destructive as it seemed it would.
Cid Kramer was under the shroud of unremitting and vague dread as well. He knew that he could not afford to break his trust of the Security Administration, but he doubted his ability to afford not to. He knew that the conclusion that was presented was reached after arduous study and that the recommendation was with little doubt, the only course of acceptable action. He also knew when he had heard of Quistis' plight, that the problem was larger and more dangerous than he anticipated. Though the problem lay with the students, it could not be alleviated without the loss of her job, just as was recommended. Fate's sense of irony once again failed to obviate his inclusion as part of its mordant joke. To have saved the world it seems, would be the reason his own would disintegrate into nothingness. That which he had strived so long to create, would collapse, in spite and because of its success.
His world was an amusing place, perhaps even hilarious if you didn't live there, and held a penchant for watching the suffering of others. Cid Kramer snickered in his sleep when he finally grasped its elusive borders, cheerlessly rolling with laughter.
It was very early in the morning when Seifer awoke. Still, he had slept for a long while and felt rested, so he dressed and went to his office where he ate his breakfast. The full reports on the comparative capabilities of the Garden sat in orderly piles over his desk, demanding of his attention. He picked up the first and opened it over his propped legs and leaned back into his executive chair, frowning and abundantly marking footnotes on the pages. Only his desk light was shining, by the necessity brought by the absence of the sun's rays. This was working to eject from his mind the task he must endure in just a few hours, the task of waking people from their dreams.
Seifer was certain that he had examined the causes, symptoms, and solutions to saturation; nothing more added into the mix would advance on the result of their findings. Just one thing still bothered him and he wasn't sure if it was truly related, or if it really even mattered, but…
A soft knocking came on the glass of his door, which he refused to let him from his studies. He sighed and his frown turned deeper. It was probably the Posse, so he would allow them entrance, but that didn't mean he would give them any attention. "Door's open." He stated tonelessly. Quietly, the door snapped shut, and muffled footsteps floated ever closer on the stone floor. Whoever it was, they were still in casual wear, or maybe pajamas.
The footfalls stopped a few feet short of his desk. He never looked up despite his interest being piqued by the lack of comment from the visitor. Seifer could hear the breathing of the person and guessed that the intruder was feminine. Having been around Fujin so much, he knew that it wasn't her, and that annoyed him.
"Yes?" He still was writing notes on the rapidly disorganized pile of papers in his lap. Over the night his voice had regained its full capacity for range and he used it to convey his displeasure and aggravation with just one word.
There was only a moment's hesitation before she spoke. "Good morning, Seifer." Subconsciously he moved the files closer over his face, not wanting to see her at the time. The formal voice of Instructor Quistis Trepe was not something that he neither expected nor wanted to hear at 0400 this morning. He couldn't really imagine a reason for her wanting to see him either, unless she came to ask more questions, tell him off, or maybe if she had remembered something.
"Trepe. You're up early. Doctor let you go sooner than expected, eh?" His face was still buried, eyes still in refusal to meet any part of her.
"I couldn't sleep… May I sit down?"
"Suit yourself." The chair exhaled along with him with the added burdening weight. He shifted amongst the papers, trying to reconcile some important figures with ones he had seen previously, marking with fervor. "Something I can do for you?"
For as long as he could remember, this was the way they had always interacted with each other after a disagreement or fight. Instant professionalism and denial of any wrong doing or incident at all. For their own reasons and in their own ways, they each preferred to handle problems on their own, using their own means, and in every other way they were two exceedingly stubborn and independent people. If the problem involved the other, it would never interfere with the normal course of their interactions, but if it should require the other to solve, they would either be strictly blunt or sarcastic. "How much do you remember about your, our, childhood?"
Bluntness was her favorite flavor. He finally looked up at her, placing the files away and taking his feet off his desk. "I remember some things. Why?" She was hanging her head slightly, staring at her intertwined fingers.
"Well, I can hardly remember anything and the drugs seem to have made it worse." Looking up at him, she saw that he was finally paying his full attention to her, and continued. "I… I don't know what sort of effects the sorceress had on you, but I know that you almost never used Guardian Forces. So, I just thought I'd ask you about the past." He'd expected her to ignore and fully hide that they'd recently had a spat about her lifestyle.
This was something that truly bothered her though. Seifer was aware that the damage to her recollection had always frustrated her and that she would be able to deal with her other tribulation. "Well, what do you want to know?"
"Kadowaki told me that I was free to go very early this morning and said that the best way to repair this type of memory damage was to relive other blocked long past experiences. You were the only one that I thought could really help me, since you seem to suffer no amnesia from your incidents." Seifer nodded thoughtfully with his hands clasped before his face. Licking her drying lips, Quistis looked at him expectantly.
"I'm not really sure how much I can help you." He began. "I arrived at the orphanage after everyone else did and I left before anyone as well. Only a few months before I was sent to Garden, Squall followed shortly." Eyes rolling slightly upward, he inhaled deeply. "Anyway, it seemed that you all had established yourselves in the orphanage before I came, with your own camaraderie and expected rolls for each other. Your, our, personalities haven't really changed much, if at all, we were just younger: more intelligent and more ignorant than we are now." She was in profound concentration, trying to materialize the hazy visages of his words. He went on. "I didn't befriend any one of you immediately, except for Selphie, but later, - "
Quistis tried as best she could to cut off the temperamental Chief gently. "Look, Seifer… I don't think this is working…" The Chief sighed resignedly and withdrew himself to the refrigerator while she inclined her head pensively and frowned. The instructor heard him rooting around in the appliance pushing things left and right with his head lowered and torso invisible behind the door.
A muffled voice called from inside, failing to bring Quistis from her introspective position. "I need a drink." She considered the many reasons why he might start abusing substances at such an early hour and conceded that, at the time, they may indeed be permissible. "You want anything?" Seifer saw her shake her head with eyes still downcast and poured out his drink into a tall glass, shrugging indifferently. He opened one of his desk drawers and rummaged about in there for some time. "Where the hell did they go?" Another drawer rolled out and he pulled away some of its contents, setting them gingerly on the desk next to his drink.
Brow violent and accusing, Quistis continued to curse her amnesia even as Seifer asked if there was anything else, anything wrong. She sighed this time, in frustration, and posited her thoughts. "Maybe if you could retell something, specific, detailed. That might help me to pick out a thread of memory. Dr. Kadowaki said this would be the best way to regain my memories most effectively and completely." Then she heard the soft ringing of his glass and another sound, a crunching. She looked up to him after he didn't respond for some time. What she saw astounded her; there before her was the Former Knight Seifer Almasy, there was no mistaking this, but what was incredulous in the picture made his identity seem impossible. Before her very eyes was the aforementioned Mr. Almasy with a hand around a large glass of milk and another dipping a cookie inside it, thoughtfully chewing with a silent pleasurable smile.
While he munched quietly on the cookie, the sight caused Quistis to crack, and in a short time her growing laughter lifted the security chief from his reverie. She stopped momentarily to look up from watering eyes at the now scowling visage of Mr. Almasy.
"What? A man can't enjoy some milk and cookies?" He intoned with slight exasperation while she broke back into fits of mirth at his expense. Seifer continued to eat and drink as her eyes reddened with joy, passively and with no small dose of annoyance waiting for her to stop laughing… And snorting. The snack was gone by the time she could speak again.
He was rolling his eyes at what she had to say. "N-no… It's just that… Seifer Almasy, world-class badass and all-around tough guy likes milk and cookies? It's just so absurd, Seifer." She kept smiling and showing bright eclipses of rapture. "Although, it does remind me of a time in the orphanage when you…" Quistis gasped shortly when she realized that she had recalled a vivid memory. The chief smiled for her and for the progress he could see developing, with her visibly uncovering more of the memory.
Unfortunately, the smile did not remain long, for he soon too recollected the memory with wide eyes. "If you don't mind instructor, I have much work to complete before this meeting later this morning. Good day." His hand motioned shortly for the door, words trying desperately to dissuade her mind from divulging more of the event being recovered in a friendly and subtle way.
Still deep in retrospection, Quistis paid his words no heed. Frowning in concentration again, she mused mostly to herself; "…Still have no idea how Matron was able to rid that stain from the walls and ceiling…" Seifer paled and tried to offer other endorsements for her leaving and forgetting the whole incident. "Selphie was never the same. It's a wonder she still loves trains to this day… And of course, Irvine became an instant rusticate, albeit a bit extreme a case… I'll bet they still won't let you or Squall near the lighthouse…" By this point in the conversation Seifer had abandoned all subtlety and he gently led Quistis, still musing aloud, out the door. She started to laugh again "Do you think that's why Squall decided to use a gunblade too?"
The Chief of Security almost gasped while he shoved the instructor through the doorway; "Trepe, don't you dare breathe a word of this to anyone or I'll serve your golden head on a silver platter."
She just smiled conspiratorially as she walked away. "Goodbye Seifer."
Generally, it did not matter the size of the enemy; nothing would intimidate Seifer Almasy. On that morning at 0700 however, the directors' three-foot table loomed high above him as he stood to speak…