Disclaimer: I just moved. I have no cash anymore. I don't even have a bus card. Unless I plan to gain hard skills in a short, short amount of time, I can assure you, that I do not own Final Fantasy 8.
*****
The murmuring of voices, quiet and discreet, flowed like broken shards to Quistis' ears.
"..here…"
"Idiots!..."
"What do you mean…?!...."
The voices, unfamiliar to her, were urgent and impatient, authority flowing over one while some were shaky and unsteady. Struggling, Quistis tried to catch as much as she could, her left ear practically plastered to the door.
"… No, they're SeeDs!"
"Lost the…"
Lost the what?! Quistis urged frantically. Being a mental request however, it was not fulfilled. Frustrated, Quistis strained even harder to catch what she could hear. Fortunately for her, shuffling of footsteps spoke that they had already found the bedroom.
"I hate flowers," said a man's voice, bitter and coated with disgust. The sound of a feminine laugh softly flowed pass Quistis, surprising her to the fact that a voice like that could belong to someone sent to kill.
"Fucking operation… useless. Of course they aren't here anymore. If they were, they wouldn't be SeeDs," the same man's voice spoke, this time with deep irritation. "Nela's sent us on a wild goose chase."
"I wouldn't say that," came the woman's voice. "The bed's still ruffled. They must've been here pretty recently."
A vague murmur was the only sound that came after. Shifting her weight around, Quistis leaned forward.
"Should just kill them all…" mumbled the man. "Don't understand why we're even suppose to bring them back." A crash immediately after gave Quistis the image of a broken flower pot. The image quickly died as the woman replied.
"Don't be so infuriating," the voice was firm now. "The last two were mediocre maybe but we could've gotten some valuable information from them, if you hadn't been so quick to drop them off in some deserted island." More crashing and shuffling sounded as the footsteps neared. Quistis didn't pay attention to the distance between them as the conversation continued.
"They were useless too, like all of them," the man hissed under his breath. "If I had things my way, SeeDs wouldn't even exist right now." The intensity of the hatred surprised even Quistis, who had grown use to the hate that often masked the fear many felt for SeeDs.
"Unfortunately, you do not." Another voice. Authorative and by all sounds of it, female. The clicking of heels across the floor was efficient, the owner knowing exactly what she wanted and where to get it.
"Nela-sama." The woman's voice from before was respectful. The same words were echoed by the man, although much more grudgingly.
"If there is nothing here, do not waste your time babbling," the woman called Nela chided coolly. There was a slight pause before she spoke again.
"Have you checked that door?"
Quistis blanched visibly. Glancing around for any item she could use as a weapon, she was relieved to find her whip lying in a pile off to the corner of the tiny space. Grasping the handle, she mentally thanked Seifer, who must've had the idea to stick it in here in the first place. Lifting herself from her position, she steadied against the wall, her body tense despite its protests at movement. She was in no position to fight, she knew, but her options had become less in number the moment Seifer had locked her in here. Ignoring the throbbing pain in the middle of her chest, she waited for the inevitable, as the handle of the door shook and frustrated murmurs drifted to her ears. It's now or never… the thought was followed by another- one that left Quistis wincing at its intensity.
Why can't I end it now?
Angry at the idea, she shook her head furiously. I will not die at their hands! They wouldn't kill me even if I let them. If they've taken Rinoa and Irvine prisoner, they wouldn't think twice about using me. I will not take Balamb with me when I die. She ignored the rattling of the knob for a moment, her thoughts calculating and wandering. These people aren't just ordinary illegal dealers. What do they have with SeeD? Why did they seem so concerned with us? Why does nothing make sense! Frustrated, she watched the knob continue to shake, not quite seeing it as her focus was concentrated on her train of thought. If Rinoa and Irvine are still around this area, we have to find them. Nothing will make sense into we do. Seifer would… She blinked as the same calm voice invaded her concentration.
"Shoot it off."
She loosed the coils of the whip, with her expression carefully blank. Now.
But the confrontation never came, although it sounded very much like an eruption on the other side. Several voices from somewhere near the entrance to the room, she guessed, shouted out messages she couldn't catch, but it was immediately followed by urgent footsteps and the sound of running outside her window.
Confused, she waited a while longer, but what she heard only served to deepen her frown- quiet.
What the… Peering underneath the slit at the bottom of the door, she could see no heels or shoes, confirming what she had heard. They've… left. Biting her lip, she pulled the narrow black clip that held her bangs in place and proceeded to put the skills she had long ignored into use.
*****
His breaths puffed out in tiny clouds of smoke in the cold air. Dark had claimed the village, shadowing houses and consuming the streets. It made the unfamiliar terrain of the woods even more dangerous. Hyperion hung at his side, covered by his long coat that was worn with the memories of days past. Footsteps behind him and shouting urged him on- fear was not the factor that persuaded but the need to get them away from Quistis. In her weakened state, she wouldn't have the strength to fight. The thought led to a memory of what the healer had told him when he had questioned her earlier and he quickened his pace. He would lead them somewhere… a clearing where he could see all of them and where he could measure his opponents before crushing them, one by one. The idea brought a familiar thrill to his bones but he suppressed the feeling, knowing full well that it had led him nowhere good in past experiences before. Cursing under his breath, he looked around for a dark spot to disappear into. If he was to fight, then he would make sure the element of surprise was his to control.
"Idiot! I don't care! Go FIND HIM!" The command exploded from behind him, further back than he had expected. Taking the chance, he chose the shade of an ancient tree, wide from its outline and enough to keep him well within its shadow. With ease, he slid into the darkness, breaking from his run without losing stride and forced himself still as he waited.
The clutter of boots grinded against the floor of the earth, the soft thumps of them repeating at different paces. Their almost unseen shadows passed him, unaware. They were disorganized, but there were definitely a lot more than had been there before. Unconsciously, he fingered the handle of his gunblade, the feel of it bringing a sense of confidence back. He could fight them, he didn't doubt that; after all, he lost to no one, but it wasn't their talents, or lack thereof that concerned him- it was their sheer numbers. He would be outnumbered to an extent that would mean his capture or death; he couldn't risk any of those yet. Not when he had almost no information as to whether or not these were even the people they were looking for, much less people who would show him the courtesy of mercy. He scowled at the thought. Mercy. Like he needed mercy.
"Seifer Almasy. So it is you," said a voice from behind his tree. Stunned but trained not to express it, he continued to keep himself still, cautious to the sense of familiarity wrapped around the words.
He heard a soft chuckle.
"Come out Seifer. It's too late to play games," the same voice mocked. Frown lines became a visible sight as he tried to find a connection between the voice and his memories but found no thread that led him to a larger picture. Aware that she was still waiting for his reaction, he retrieved his thoughts and carefully blanked his expression as he slid out of the shadows to come face to face with the woman.
His gazed swept over her, calculating and measuring but stopped, stunned as he landed on an item tied to her waist. For as far as he knew, there was only one person who could wield what the woman carried now and that person was currently locked in a closet.
For, on the waist of the woman who had called him out, was the almost identical whip of Quistis Trepe, coiled and bound.
*****
A/N: And it's Chapter 8, packaged all nice and neat. Boring chapter, I know, but I needed to make some parts of the story clear before I moved on.
Next Chapter: Who the hell is Nela? And she wields a whip? What is Quistis doing up there and just where in the world did Rinoa and Irvine disappear to?
All this and more on the next chapter of… *Insert corny dramatic music*… 'One Last Breath'!
I think this is becoming a less angsty fanfiction than I was aiming for in the beginning. Darn…
This chapter was fairly hard for me to write and the editations of my beta reader picked out a few mistakes I didn't notice. Thank goodness for editors and beta readers. Anyways, enjoy the boring chapter in safe assurance that it will mean something. Eventually.