Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Final Fantasy VIII or any concepts associated with the game. These belong to Squaresoft (now Square Enix). All I own is my interpretation of those concepts, and it is that which I intend to share with you here.

Hide The Scars

By Draic

Chapter Two: Isolation

The Doctor grinned. It was a beautiful morning, he hadn't had to treat any worse than a twisted ankle in the last few days, and he'd just witnessed his son perform a backward handspring.Zell was absolutely ecstatic, and had been literally bouncing off the walls as he raced off to tell everyone he knew. There was something incredibly infectious about Zell's laughter, in his father's extremely biased opinion, and as he parted with his son, he almost felt like turning a cartwheel himself.

He felt so inspired that he was actually cleaning his desk. It was a rare occurrence that the doctor could bear to sort through the piles of paperwork that not only enveloped the desk, but also spilled over its edges, but with the flurry of excitement he'd drawn from his son, Parelan couldn't think of a single reason to put it off. The filing cabinet's going to be a whole lot fuller than it's been in a while before I finish up today, he thought to himself amusedly.

He'd almost finished sorting everything into piles when he heard a slight cough from behind him, and turned to find Headmaster Cid standing in the doorway, arms folded. The older, dark-haired man gave an amused smile at the surprise written across the doctor's face.

"Headmaster!" the doctor greeted. "I'm very sorry, I didn't hear the door…"

"I guessed as much," the older man replied drily. "In fact, you must be very out of sorts this morning… did you realise you were actually cleaning your desk?"

The doctor laughed. "I had noticed, yes. It actually feels good to get this trash into order. Perhaps you'd care to try it sometime; I've seen how your own desk can get."

The Headmaster smiled down at his shoes and refrained from comment.

"Well, come in, come in!" the doctor said. He scratched his head idly as he looked around the room, at the papers now piling up on every surface but his desk. "I'd, uh… offer you a chair, but I seem to have taken up rather a lot of space at the moment."

Cid waved his hand amicably. "Don't worry about it, Doctor. If there's one thing I've learned from making speeches all the time, it's how to be comfortable standing up."

Dr. Dincht grinned. "Well, if you're sure… So how are you, old man?" he asked, leaning back on the desk.

"''Old man?'" The Headmaster repeated, looking over his glasses at the doctor. "Please. I'm barely ten years your senior."

"Well, a lot can happen in ten years, Cid. Look at Zell - he's not much older than ten and just this morning showed me a flawless backward handspring."

Cid smiled to himself. "Well, he certainly has a lot of energy. It seems he finally found the right way to channel it."

"That he did," said his father. "But enough of this fatherly babble. What brings you to my humble office?"

Cid paused, unfolding his arms and studying his hands before replying. "It has come to my attention that you have expressed some concern over the treatment of SeeD Tytha Alie."

The doctor's grin slid off his face and he sighed. "I was wondering when I'd be hearing about that."

"You must realise, doctor, that stripping a student of the ranking of SeeD is not an action we have ever before deemed necessary… let alone dismissing them and severing all their ties with Garden!"

"I know."

"What exactly is it about Miss Alie that makes you think she is deserving of such punishment?"

"She's not," Dincht said wretchedly, "and that's the worst of it." He pushed off the desk and began pacing back and forth. "She's one of the cheeriest and most upbeat people I have ever had the pleasure to meet. She's quite intelligent and has a great sense of humour…

"But…?" Cid supplied.

"But…" the blonde turned to face the Headmaster. "She shouldn't be here. She's a dreamer, not a mercenary! Have you seen her sketches? Her poetry? She's certainly the best artist I've seen during my time here. She should be out there using those skills, not in here playing at soldiers."

"Don't you think that's for her to decide?" the Headmaster asked gently. "She seems quite happy to be here."

"And ordinarily that would be enough for me. But have you seen her medical record?"

"She's had a few accidents," Cid admitted.

"She's bloody careless!"

"Now, now…"

"She is and you know it! She's careless, she has little concentration and she can't think ahead. You can't afford to have someone like that on a battlefield, let alone a more specialised mission. The Field Exam alone should have proved that!"

"Her Instructors believe she is ready."

"Her Instructors are wrong!"

There was a silence as the two men watched each other; a silence in which Doctor Dincht suddenly realised two things. Firstly, that his hands were raised in clenched fists. Secondly, that Cid himself was one of Tytha's Instructors.

"Look, Cid…" he tried, forcing his hands open.

Cid stepped forward, clasping his hands in front of him. The doctor recognised the pose. It was usually reserved for admonishing rambunctious students. This did not bode well.

"It seems to me, doctor, that this is not about Miss Alie at all. In fact, I think you need to reassess which battle you are fighting."

The blonde rubbed a hand across his face. "Spare me the runaround, Cid. What do you mean?"

"Your true complaint is in regards to the methods we Instructors use to select our SeeDs. Am I right?"

The older man's dark eyes gazed stonily into the doctor's blue.

"Headmaster, please do not take this personally. It's the students I'm worried about; I'm just asking you to review the way you train them."

"Refusing to consider personal implications is always a mistake, Doctor. You want me to raise the expectations placed upon our students? I suggest you consider what effect that will have on those other than Miss Alie - your 'son' included."

Parelan's breath left him as the Headmaster's implications sank in, and he stood, stunned, while the voice continued.

"I'm sure I don't need to remind you of Zell's records, Doctor. They are not unlike SeeD Tytha's own. I'm sure you have noticed the likeness yourself."

Cid turned to leave the room as Dr. Dincht slumped against his desk.

"And Doctor?" Cid called over his shoulder. "Try not to take this personally."