Trust My Heart
by: Cathy-chan
Note: This chapter's a wee bit more explicit than the romance I'm used to, but what d'ya expect? Me writing PG/G forever? ^_^ It's not too bad though; I'd say PG-13. And when you see these: ******** it means it's a flashback.
Chapter 5: A Shadowed Past
As the sun shone at its highest zenith, Bradley and Quistis rode the motorcycle, heading north. They traveled across the plains, hills and paths of the northwest regions. There were moments when Quistis almost shrieked at how far Bradley was pushing the velocity, but she kept silent. Her heart pounded on her chest and her arms held tightly around his waist, yet she still showed no fear. She was determined to prove her point about SeeDs and the instructors that taught them. At one time when the motorcyle jumped through a huge gap, both of them were nearly scared half to death. But the rest of the journey was smooth and very exhilarating.
He stopped the vehicle near a cliff beside the ocean. They watched as the brilliant sun gently lay itself on the horizon. As it did so, the sky painted ribbons of golden and orange hues. Suprisingly, the tranquil scene fit in perfectly as the end of their wild, fast day. Bradley pointed to minature rows of rural buildings to their right. When he told her it was Dollet, she not only realized how far they had traveled, but how long they had been away from Balamb Garden. I'm sure Squall knows I'm away by now, she thought. She also knew she had no permission to leave the Garden. But instead of asking Bradley to go back, she leaned her head on his back, thinking of the first day they met. We saw a sunset just like this one...No, this one's more beautiful somehow. It was only until the sun disappeared did she spoke.
"I hope I made my point," she said teasingly and idly.
He laughed softly. "Nah, yer arms were too tight 'round me. I thought ye were gonna squeeze the air outta me." He looked at her over his shoulders, and said sacractically, "The speed really did a great job on yer hair."
"I only held tight so I didn't get thrown off the bike," she denied comically. She chuckled as well while undoing the pin behind her head, letting the long, straight strands fall pass her shoulders. She lightly ran her fingers through them. A while later, she placed her hands on his shoulders, sighed then whispered, "Is this what you wanted to prove to me about life?"
He nodded. "It'll only be a challenge and a promise to be fulfilled if you let it. Otherwise, it'll be just another thing to grudge through, without any purpose or...heart."
Slowly her head nodded against his back. She understood the idea of life as a tribulation far too well. There were times when she wished for nothing but to huddle around herself and shut out the world. Particularly during her dilemma with her adopted parents. It was not her first time disobeying an authority. Only this time, it was not anger that made her leave without consent. She felt the impulse to tell him about her childhood after the orphanage, but after knowning his views on life and family, would he understood her reasons to be wary? He did not seem to have difficulties with his family; in fact it seemed he had no difficulty with anything. Impulsively, she heard herself ask, "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why show me all of this? How can you see reality to be this exciting?"
Silently, he stood up from the bike. Taking her hand, he stood her up and said, "Because if I can't see reality for what it's worth, then who will? I wanted to show you this place. And to see what you'd make of it. You let me ride that bike with you and take you here because you trusted me, didn't you?"
It was true. It was only then did it came to her. Intuitively she did trust him with many things. Even with the ones she didn't trust with herself. It was beyond belief, that she could trust in someone so quickly and easily. Especially when the things and people she trusted before betrayed her. So, carefully, she looked up into Bradley's eyes, now a smoky blue-green. "Should I be trusting you?" she asked him, but she was also directing the question to herself.
"That's up to you to decide," he answered. "I am asking you, Quistis. Do you trust me?"
There was no trick to his question. All she had to do was shake her head or say 'no' to deny him the honour. How can you trust this man? a rational voice within asked. You haven't even spent a week with him yet. You probably never will too, since he's the kind of man that leaves women without regrets. The voice was loud and clear in her mind. Yet a deeper voice, one she hadn't heard in years, spoke for her. To Bradley, it made her smile and say, "Yes."
He pulled her closer until her body was against his. She could feel his heart, beating as fast as hers. It felt synchronized; beating as one. It was then that she realized where her answer came from. Her heart. The realization and the heat of his body, made her breathe faster. She thought her heart lost its voice after leaving the orphanage, but it was speaking again, urging her to respond to her desire for him.
His hand on her neck and hers on his chest, their lips touched gently. It was an innocent contact that relieved a tension they hadn't known existed. He drew her nearer with an arm around her waist.
Obscurely Quistis remembered a classmate from her junior years that gave her a brief kiss. She wondered if it could be defined as one, it was incredibly homely compared to what Bradley was doing to her now. She was struck with the sweetness of his mouth moving over hers, yet his muscles were strained around her waist. It was palpable what he was holding back. All she had to do was bend her neck backwards and surrender to discover what it was. Her mind swam and scattered, her world was supported by his body and her hands on the back of his neck. It felt delightful, trailing her fingers from the nape to the wild tresses just behind his ear. He reacted to her caresses by slightly parting her mouth with his. She took pleasure from his breath merging with hers.
Bradley remembered the women he had kissed throughout his adult and teen life. Though it was difficult to summon the memory of those kisses for none of them were ever as tender and sweet as this. There was a certain untainted humanity about Quistis that was irresistible. And a beautiful honesty in her response. He savoured the hint of tangerines she had for lunch and the vague flavour of coffee she had with the fruit. A strange meal, he thought, but it gave her a sweet aroma. He was mermerized that she wore no lipstick, despite her lips' rosy colour. Her hands on his neck were peaceful, yet the delicate touch singed his senses. He considered what she might do if he took the kissing deeper. Would she hit him? Would she deny her obvious hunger for him?.....Or would she agree to it? Again, curiosity had him hanging on a precarious balance. That and lust made his next move even more perilous. There was no doubt they liked each other; no doubt of a fierce connection between them. Nevertheless, he had respect for her. Moreover, he wanted more than a physical fling from sweetly, honest Quistis. Even if a bodily longing was torturing him, he placed both his hands on her shoulders and took a step back.
He watched as her lashes lazily fluttered up. Underneath them her eyes shimmered with sensuality. They stared at each other and did nothing else. It took a while for their minds to finally register what happened, to function properly.
Quistis had convinced herself that she had to say something. There had to be words, she assumed, after such an incredible experience. Yet no word came out when she tried opening her mouth to speak, just a soft sound close to a sigh. Strange...did she know how to speak before?
Unlike her, Bradley recalled how to speak. He just didn't know what exactly to say. His mind searched for the reasons why, but nothing logical (or seemly) came. Worse yet, not even how it happened could be explained. How in the world did he came to ask her if she trusted him anyway? He mulled over it exasperatedly and found no other reason but a sudden whim to kiss her. He was a fair enough and honest man; he would and could never lie to her. Therefore, with nothing useful to say, he tried his luck on saying anything. "I...shouldn't have done that....right?" Then he absolutely felt like kicking himself. What would he do if she said 'yes'?
"...It was...unexpected..." she answered.
He was perplexed. Was that yea or nay?
"...but..." she continued, smiling shyly, "...nice..."
"Good!" he breathed out, unsteadily. That was unmistakably a 'yea'. "You're an amazing woman, Quistis."
Suddenly, the transmission radio on the motorcycle loudly came to life. A gritty, distorted voice spoke: "Mayday, Mayday! This is Balamb Garden, calling any SeeD or Garden within close proximity. Emergency on south-south-west of Dollet City."
"The Garden's in danger!" Quistis exclaimed. "Bradley, we have to go back!"
He nodded. Together, they hopped on the bike. The engine thundered as the motorcycle sped towards Balamb Garden.
~~~~~~
"Stay together and keep as close to me as you can!" Squall yelled. His voice fought against the sound of crunching, ripping and falling metal from the Garden's stern wall. While, at the same time, his whole body was fighting a harder battle: the struggle to stay alert. It was a miracle he was standing. The blow on his head earlier should have forced him unconscious, yet it didn't. Blood was smeered everywhere from his face to his shoulders, but he was awake. His legs were teetering as he stood guarding four juniors from another bout of eruptions. Ears pounding from the explosion's shock, he heard Selphie and Irvine screaming his name as whispers from afar. He strained to crank his head to look over his shoulder. Behind a wall of smoke and his own blurry vision, he saw them extinguishing the flames, making a clearing for him and the juniors. He propelled himself and the children to the opening before collapsing and passing out.
"Squall!" Selphie cried, shaking him intensely.
"C'mon, we have to get him and the kids out of here!" Irvine said. At each side, they flung his arms around their shoulders. But just as the exit was near, they suddenly felt the floor tilt backwards. Balamb Garden's main aviation system shattered. The large ring that kept them aloft ruptured at the rear, causing the ship to fall. The Garden buried itself into the sloping turf, demolishing anything in its way. All they could hear and feel were the rocks' violence gnawing the bottomest floor.
~~~~~~
Not too far away from the Garden, Bradley and Quistis followed the trailing remains of the ship's enormous ring and metallic armor. Burnt debris were scattered everywhere they looked. The earth was torn asunder, its scars were cleaved very deeply. Judging from the wreckage, the problem went from bad to worse. Quistis was relieved that she saw no cadavers, but she was still dreading that the worst had happened.
"Please be safe, everyone," she whispered. Leaving her plea into the air, she held her faith strongly as the Garden came to view around a hill. Most of the Garden's upper-front was undamaged, but the bottom of it was buried meters into the land. A shaky gasp escaped her. She tightened her hold around Bradley's waist. "Oh, my god!" she exclaimed in a breathless, trembling voice.
The motorcycle halted on a screech. With a deft movement, he leapt off the vehicle. He and Quistis hastened to an opening on the ship's wall. From the first moment he had a glimpse of the wreck, it felt almost physically painful to curb the memories of a similar event. Nevertheless, all the while he assisted her on finding her friends, the past rose up into his mind. It was the worsest time to be reminiscing of regrettable events, but the images of it still arose. He heard the sound of his untrained, carefree voice protesting uselessly to older teenagers....
********
"Y'guys, this isn't right!" a sixteen year old protested.
"Dammit, Rad, ye gonna be styoopid or ye gonna pass me tha' detonation device?"
The boy's hands shook and faltered. His hands quivered so badly that he almost dropped the switch; his unsteady hands fumbled, but quickly he regained possession of the hazardous tool.
"Idjyot!" another, older boy spat. "Watch 'ow yer holdin' tha' thing!"
"T-This isn't right," he repeated meekly.
"Yer right," the eldest one agreed. He snatched it harshly from the boy's hands and frowned. "I should be the one holdin' this, not you."
That was not what he meant. He was talking about the bloody bombs they were fixing onto the tanker's hull, he thought despairingly. But none of his three friends heeded his words. Without stopping, they attached it on the boat's end. He remembered them telling him about the powerful weapon they bought off the black market. "It'll go 'boom'! Jus' like tha', destroys everythin'. No matter 'ow big. It'll make one helluva mess. Too bad we can't afford 'nother one to attach on the bridge! That way the SeeDs'll be dead along with their ship!" one of them said earlier. At that time, he was mermerized, now that he was finally doing the deed, it unnerved him.
It was only anger that made him participate in their 'revolution movement' as they called it. It was nothing more than revenge against government parties and their laws, he knew the truth. For him, it was revenge for his father, Joseph.
It made him furious.
Since he was but twelve, he studied in Galbadia Garden and obsessed over attaining the rank of SeeD. But the soldiers with the red and black uniform, the same ones he dreamt of becoming, towed his father's pathetic, writhing body away. Just when his father returned from leaving his family, and when he was gratified to see his father's face after not recalling it for sixteen years, the damnable soldiers marched into their house and took him away.
Numbly, his focus returned to the task at hand. After making the last check on the explosive device, the three boys dragged him away from the boat, and pressed the switch. He guiltily observed the boat explode, and prayed that no SeeD was in it. Afterwards, he realized whom his anger was directed to at last. And it wasn't the military group at all.
He was angry at himself for cooperating with a horrendous crime, and letting his rage get the best of him.
And his father for pretending to return happily home. It was all a feint. His smiles, him saying "I'm sorry I left Laura and you." and his motive to unite his family again. There was only one motive he cared about: to escape his thievery and swindling punishments by utilizing his son and wife as cover. Joseph Atkins didn't even faltered when he lied through his teeth. He was used to lying, deceiving and putting his family in harm for his own selfish benefit.
He had foced his own son from a career and future to a 2-year sentence in juvenile imprisonment for a crime he barely aided. And he had shamed and marred a wife. Despite her strong will, Laura died of an illness while their son was still in jail. Bradley despaired, never knowing if it was a broken heart that triggered her mournful death. Joseph had escaped and disappeared, as he had always done with everything in his life.
Even after three years of thinking about it, Bradley could not tell whom he was more angry at, himself or his father...
********
It wasn't until Quistis repeated his name louder did he snapped back to the present. "Bradley! What's wrong?" she asked, concern knitted on her face.
"Nothing," he said, forcing a steady voice and composure to return. Sluggishly, he began to grasp where he was. Ash and smoke covered the demolished area they were standing in; he was looking at the aftermath of the Garden's destruction. At his side, Quistis was keeping as calm as a capable leader. She helped a few students up their feet, but she was starting to panic. It came back to him: they were looking for her comrades, to see if they survived. "What did you just say?" he asked.
"I said I haven't seen any of the high-ranking SeeDs yet. They must be helping people in the infirmary. Or maybe they stayed in the bridge."
Bradley's attention was still having a hard time to readjust, but one of the words she spoke struck him. Why? What was so important with that one word--and which word, he wondered. Then the word came: bridge. She said her friends might be in the bridge--Immediately he seized Quistis' hand and tugged her with him. If his hunch was true, Balamb Garden's mess was far from over. He urged her to run faster, to keep up with his relentless pace. While running and dodging every debri that was on the floor, he said, "What's the fastest way to the bridge?"
She was confused and disoriented. "Uhm....The elevator's the best way to get there, but surely it's been shut down. So the only way there is the emergency ladder right beside it."
After the words left her mouth, he stopped and grabbed her shoulders. "Go and look for your friends in the infirmary. If they're not there or the place's destroyed get out as soon as you can. If they are, get them out and stay out no matter what happens."
Just as he was about to leave, she gripped his hands. "What's going on!? I don't understand. Tell me, Bradley!"
He wanted to tell her, to ease her worries, but there was no time. "Just go! Everything'll be fine if you do what I say. Trust me!"
She lingered for a second, then nodded. "Be careful and stay away from harm."
He watched as she headed for another direction and nearly laughed drly from bitter irony. Wasn't he doing the exact opposite, heading directly into harm's way? During the perilous ascend from the emergency ladder, his logical brain warned him how insane he was. He didn't know a single thing about disarming a bomb. Except what little he learned during his short time in Galbadia Garden, he didn't have a clue about explosive devices. He had no reasoning for his theory either, just a hunch and what one of the three boys had said. Maybe suddenly losing himself in the past wasn't the worst thing, after all.
He arrived at the headmaster's room. Thankfully no one was there and the room was untouched by the blasts. Amazingly, his luck held when he found that the lift to the bridge was still operational. His last task was to find the explosives hidden somewhere inside the room. It obviously was hidden very well for none of the SeeDs noticed anything suspicious. Nor did it make any sound. He didn't noticed anything strange either while fixing Nida's problem that morning. Therefore, it couldn't have been attached outside.
"All right, Rad, think! If I were a saboteur, where would I plant a bomb...?" he muttered to himself frenziedly. He searched the large steering wheel, every control panel, the ceiling, the walls and found nothing. To make it more dreadful, he had no idea when the bomb's timer was set or if someone far away was holding the activator. It could go off any moment.
With all his might, he calmed his fast breathing and tried to remain controlled. Habitually when stressed out, he cooled it off by pacing. While accidently hitting his feet on a one-step to a raised platform, he discovered a hollow area. One of the platform's panels was loose. Underneath it was the explosives, ready to initiate in fifteen seconds. It appeared to be nothing more than a black box with a timer; there was no wires to cut, no buttons to push. Thus, Bradley did the only thing possible. Wincing that the explosives might to go off on his hand, he hurled it through the bridge's front window with less than ten seconds left on the clock. It was barely a couple of meters away from the Garden when the blast tore the sky. A wave of its power with smoke and fire coursed through at his direction. The last he saw in a blur was the windows breaking and a torrent of sharp, heavy fragments falling down on him.
To be continued...
by: Cathy-chan
Note: This chapter's a wee bit more explicit than the romance I'm used to, but what d'ya expect? Me writing PG/G forever? ^_^ It's not too bad though; I'd say PG-13. And when you see these: ******** it means it's a flashback.
Chapter 5: A Shadowed Past
As the sun shone at its highest zenith, Bradley and Quistis rode the motorcycle, heading north. They traveled across the plains, hills and paths of the northwest regions. There were moments when Quistis almost shrieked at how far Bradley was pushing the velocity, but she kept silent. Her heart pounded on her chest and her arms held tightly around his waist, yet she still showed no fear. She was determined to prove her point about SeeDs and the instructors that taught them. At one time when the motorcyle jumped through a huge gap, both of them were nearly scared half to death. But the rest of the journey was smooth and very exhilarating.
He stopped the vehicle near a cliff beside the ocean. They watched as the brilliant sun gently lay itself on the horizon. As it did so, the sky painted ribbons of golden and orange hues. Suprisingly, the tranquil scene fit in perfectly as the end of their wild, fast day. Bradley pointed to minature rows of rural buildings to their right. When he told her it was Dollet, she not only realized how far they had traveled, but how long they had been away from Balamb Garden. I'm sure Squall knows I'm away by now, she thought. She also knew she had no permission to leave the Garden. But instead of asking Bradley to go back, she leaned her head on his back, thinking of the first day they met. We saw a sunset just like this one...No, this one's more beautiful somehow. It was only until the sun disappeared did she spoke.
"I hope I made my point," she said teasingly and idly.
He laughed softly. "Nah, yer arms were too tight 'round me. I thought ye were gonna squeeze the air outta me." He looked at her over his shoulders, and said sacractically, "The speed really did a great job on yer hair."
"I only held tight so I didn't get thrown off the bike," she denied comically. She chuckled as well while undoing the pin behind her head, letting the long, straight strands fall pass her shoulders. She lightly ran her fingers through them. A while later, she placed her hands on his shoulders, sighed then whispered, "Is this what you wanted to prove to me about life?"
He nodded. "It'll only be a challenge and a promise to be fulfilled if you let it. Otherwise, it'll be just another thing to grudge through, without any purpose or...heart."
Slowly her head nodded against his back. She understood the idea of life as a tribulation far too well. There were times when she wished for nothing but to huddle around herself and shut out the world. Particularly during her dilemma with her adopted parents. It was not her first time disobeying an authority. Only this time, it was not anger that made her leave without consent. She felt the impulse to tell him about her childhood after the orphanage, but after knowning his views on life and family, would he understood her reasons to be wary? He did not seem to have difficulties with his family; in fact it seemed he had no difficulty with anything. Impulsively, she heard herself ask, "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why show me all of this? How can you see reality to be this exciting?"
Silently, he stood up from the bike. Taking her hand, he stood her up and said, "Because if I can't see reality for what it's worth, then who will? I wanted to show you this place. And to see what you'd make of it. You let me ride that bike with you and take you here because you trusted me, didn't you?"
It was true. It was only then did it came to her. Intuitively she did trust him with many things. Even with the ones she didn't trust with herself. It was beyond belief, that she could trust in someone so quickly and easily. Especially when the things and people she trusted before betrayed her. So, carefully, she looked up into Bradley's eyes, now a smoky blue-green. "Should I be trusting you?" she asked him, but she was also directing the question to herself.
"That's up to you to decide," he answered. "I am asking you, Quistis. Do you trust me?"
There was no trick to his question. All she had to do was shake her head or say 'no' to deny him the honour. How can you trust this man? a rational voice within asked. You haven't even spent a week with him yet. You probably never will too, since he's the kind of man that leaves women without regrets. The voice was loud and clear in her mind. Yet a deeper voice, one she hadn't heard in years, spoke for her. To Bradley, it made her smile and say, "Yes."
He pulled her closer until her body was against his. She could feel his heart, beating as fast as hers. It felt synchronized; beating as one. It was then that she realized where her answer came from. Her heart. The realization and the heat of his body, made her breathe faster. She thought her heart lost its voice after leaving the orphanage, but it was speaking again, urging her to respond to her desire for him.
His hand on her neck and hers on his chest, their lips touched gently. It was an innocent contact that relieved a tension they hadn't known existed. He drew her nearer with an arm around her waist.
Obscurely Quistis remembered a classmate from her junior years that gave her a brief kiss. She wondered if it could be defined as one, it was incredibly homely compared to what Bradley was doing to her now. She was struck with the sweetness of his mouth moving over hers, yet his muscles were strained around her waist. It was palpable what he was holding back. All she had to do was bend her neck backwards and surrender to discover what it was. Her mind swam and scattered, her world was supported by his body and her hands on the back of his neck. It felt delightful, trailing her fingers from the nape to the wild tresses just behind his ear. He reacted to her caresses by slightly parting her mouth with his. She took pleasure from his breath merging with hers.
Bradley remembered the women he had kissed throughout his adult and teen life. Though it was difficult to summon the memory of those kisses for none of them were ever as tender and sweet as this. There was a certain untainted humanity about Quistis that was irresistible. And a beautiful honesty in her response. He savoured the hint of tangerines she had for lunch and the vague flavour of coffee she had with the fruit. A strange meal, he thought, but it gave her a sweet aroma. He was mermerized that she wore no lipstick, despite her lips' rosy colour. Her hands on his neck were peaceful, yet the delicate touch singed his senses. He considered what she might do if he took the kissing deeper. Would she hit him? Would she deny her obvious hunger for him?.....Or would she agree to it? Again, curiosity had him hanging on a precarious balance. That and lust made his next move even more perilous. There was no doubt they liked each other; no doubt of a fierce connection between them. Nevertheless, he had respect for her. Moreover, he wanted more than a physical fling from sweetly, honest Quistis. Even if a bodily longing was torturing him, he placed both his hands on her shoulders and took a step back.
He watched as her lashes lazily fluttered up. Underneath them her eyes shimmered with sensuality. They stared at each other and did nothing else. It took a while for their minds to finally register what happened, to function properly.
Quistis had convinced herself that she had to say something. There had to be words, she assumed, after such an incredible experience. Yet no word came out when she tried opening her mouth to speak, just a soft sound close to a sigh. Strange...did she know how to speak before?
Unlike her, Bradley recalled how to speak. He just didn't know what exactly to say. His mind searched for the reasons why, but nothing logical (or seemly) came. Worse yet, not even how it happened could be explained. How in the world did he came to ask her if she trusted him anyway? He mulled over it exasperatedly and found no other reason but a sudden whim to kiss her. He was a fair enough and honest man; he would and could never lie to her. Therefore, with nothing useful to say, he tried his luck on saying anything. "I...shouldn't have done that....right?" Then he absolutely felt like kicking himself. What would he do if she said 'yes'?
"...It was...unexpected..." she answered.
He was perplexed. Was that yea or nay?
"...but..." she continued, smiling shyly, "...nice..."
"Good!" he breathed out, unsteadily. That was unmistakably a 'yea'. "You're an amazing woman, Quistis."
Suddenly, the transmission radio on the motorcycle loudly came to life. A gritty, distorted voice spoke: "Mayday, Mayday! This is Balamb Garden, calling any SeeD or Garden within close proximity. Emergency on south-south-west of Dollet City."
"The Garden's in danger!" Quistis exclaimed. "Bradley, we have to go back!"
He nodded. Together, they hopped on the bike. The engine thundered as the motorcycle sped towards Balamb Garden.
~~~~~~
"Stay together and keep as close to me as you can!" Squall yelled. His voice fought against the sound of crunching, ripping and falling metal from the Garden's stern wall. While, at the same time, his whole body was fighting a harder battle: the struggle to stay alert. It was a miracle he was standing. The blow on his head earlier should have forced him unconscious, yet it didn't. Blood was smeered everywhere from his face to his shoulders, but he was awake. His legs were teetering as he stood guarding four juniors from another bout of eruptions. Ears pounding from the explosion's shock, he heard Selphie and Irvine screaming his name as whispers from afar. He strained to crank his head to look over his shoulder. Behind a wall of smoke and his own blurry vision, he saw them extinguishing the flames, making a clearing for him and the juniors. He propelled himself and the children to the opening before collapsing and passing out.
"Squall!" Selphie cried, shaking him intensely.
"C'mon, we have to get him and the kids out of here!" Irvine said. At each side, they flung his arms around their shoulders. But just as the exit was near, they suddenly felt the floor tilt backwards. Balamb Garden's main aviation system shattered. The large ring that kept them aloft ruptured at the rear, causing the ship to fall. The Garden buried itself into the sloping turf, demolishing anything in its way. All they could hear and feel were the rocks' violence gnawing the bottomest floor.
~~~~~~
Not too far away from the Garden, Bradley and Quistis followed the trailing remains of the ship's enormous ring and metallic armor. Burnt debris were scattered everywhere they looked. The earth was torn asunder, its scars were cleaved very deeply. Judging from the wreckage, the problem went from bad to worse. Quistis was relieved that she saw no cadavers, but she was still dreading that the worst had happened.
"Please be safe, everyone," she whispered. Leaving her plea into the air, she held her faith strongly as the Garden came to view around a hill. Most of the Garden's upper-front was undamaged, but the bottom of it was buried meters into the land. A shaky gasp escaped her. She tightened her hold around Bradley's waist. "Oh, my god!" she exclaimed in a breathless, trembling voice.
The motorcycle halted on a screech. With a deft movement, he leapt off the vehicle. He and Quistis hastened to an opening on the ship's wall. From the first moment he had a glimpse of the wreck, it felt almost physically painful to curb the memories of a similar event. Nevertheless, all the while he assisted her on finding her friends, the past rose up into his mind. It was the worsest time to be reminiscing of regrettable events, but the images of it still arose. He heard the sound of his untrained, carefree voice protesting uselessly to older teenagers....
********
"Y'guys, this isn't right!" a sixteen year old protested.
"Dammit, Rad, ye gonna be styoopid or ye gonna pass me tha' detonation device?"
The boy's hands shook and faltered. His hands quivered so badly that he almost dropped the switch; his unsteady hands fumbled, but quickly he regained possession of the hazardous tool.
"Idjyot!" another, older boy spat. "Watch 'ow yer holdin' tha' thing!"
"T-This isn't right," he repeated meekly.
"Yer right," the eldest one agreed. He snatched it harshly from the boy's hands and frowned. "I should be the one holdin' this, not you."
That was not what he meant. He was talking about the bloody bombs they were fixing onto the tanker's hull, he thought despairingly. But none of his three friends heeded his words. Without stopping, they attached it on the boat's end. He remembered them telling him about the powerful weapon they bought off the black market. "It'll go 'boom'! Jus' like tha', destroys everythin'. No matter 'ow big. It'll make one helluva mess. Too bad we can't afford 'nother one to attach on the bridge! That way the SeeDs'll be dead along with their ship!" one of them said earlier. At that time, he was mermerized, now that he was finally doing the deed, it unnerved him.
It was only anger that made him participate in their 'revolution movement' as they called it. It was nothing more than revenge against government parties and their laws, he knew the truth. For him, it was revenge for his father, Joseph.
It made him furious.
Since he was but twelve, he studied in Galbadia Garden and obsessed over attaining the rank of SeeD. But the soldiers with the red and black uniform, the same ones he dreamt of becoming, towed his father's pathetic, writhing body away. Just when his father returned from leaving his family, and when he was gratified to see his father's face after not recalling it for sixteen years, the damnable soldiers marched into their house and took him away.
Numbly, his focus returned to the task at hand. After making the last check on the explosive device, the three boys dragged him away from the boat, and pressed the switch. He guiltily observed the boat explode, and prayed that no SeeD was in it. Afterwards, he realized whom his anger was directed to at last. And it wasn't the military group at all.
He was angry at himself for cooperating with a horrendous crime, and letting his rage get the best of him.
And his father for pretending to return happily home. It was all a feint. His smiles, him saying "I'm sorry I left Laura and you." and his motive to unite his family again. There was only one motive he cared about: to escape his thievery and swindling punishments by utilizing his son and wife as cover. Joseph Atkins didn't even faltered when he lied through his teeth. He was used to lying, deceiving and putting his family in harm for his own selfish benefit.
He had foced his own son from a career and future to a 2-year sentence in juvenile imprisonment for a crime he barely aided. And he had shamed and marred a wife. Despite her strong will, Laura died of an illness while their son was still in jail. Bradley despaired, never knowing if it was a broken heart that triggered her mournful death. Joseph had escaped and disappeared, as he had always done with everything in his life.
Even after three years of thinking about it, Bradley could not tell whom he was more angry at, himself or his father...
********
It wasn't until Quistis repeated his name louder did he snapped back to the present. "Bradley! What's wrong?" she asked, concern knitted on her face.
"Nothing," he said, forcing a steady voice and composure to return. Sluggishly, he began to grasp where he was. Ash and smoke covered the demolished area they were standing in; he was looking at the aftermath of the Garden's destruction. At his side, Quistis was keeping as calm as a capable leader. She helped a few students up their feet, but she was starting to panic. It came back to him: they were looking for her comrades, to see if they survived. "What did you just say?" he asked.
"I said I haven't seen any of the high-ranking SeeDs yet. They must be helping people in the infirmary. Or maybe they stayed in the bridge."
Bradley's attention was still having a hard time to readjust, but one of the words she spoke struck him. Why? What was so important with that one word--and which word, he wondered. Then the word came: bridge. She said her friends might be in the bridge--Immediately he seized Quistis' hand and tugged her with him. If his hunch was true, Balamb Garden's mess was far from over. He urged her to run faster, to keep up with his relentless pace. While running and dodging every debri that was on the floor, he said, "What's the fastest way to the bridge?"
She was confused and disoriented. "Uhm....The elevator's the best way to get there, but surely it's been shut down. So the only way there is the emergency ladder right beside it."
After the words left her mouth, he stopped and grabbed her shoulders. "Go and look for your friends in the infirmary. If they're not there or the place's destroyed get out as soon as you can. If they are, get them out and stay out no matter what happens."
Just as he was about to leave, she gripped his hands. "What's going on!? I don't understand. Tell me, Bradley!"
He wanted to tell her, to ease her worries, but there was no time. "Just go! Everything'll be fine if you do what I say. Trust me!"
She lingered for a second, then nodded. "Be careful and stay away from harm."
He watched as she headed for another direction and nearly laughed drly from bitter irony. Wasn't he doing the exact opposite, heading directly into harm's way? During the perilous ascend from the emergency ladder, his logical brain warned him how insane he was. He didn't know a single thing about disarming a bomb. Except what little he learned during his short time in Galbadia Garden, he didn't have a clue about explosive devices. He had no reasoning for his theory either, just a hunch and what one of the three boys had said. Maybe suddenly losing himself in the past wasn't the worst thing, after all.
He arrived at the headmaster's room. Thankfully no one was there and the room was untouched by the blasts. Amazingly, his luck held when he found that the lift to the bridge was still operational. His last task was to find the explosives hidden somewhere inside the room. It obviously was hidden very well for none of the SeeDs noticed anything suspicious. Nor did it make any sound. He didn't noticed anything strange either while fixing Nida's problem that morning. Therefore, it couldn't have been attached outside.
"All right, Rad, think! If I were a saboteur, where would I plant a bomb...?" he muttered to himself frenziedly. He searched the large steering wheel, every control panel, the ceiling, the walls and found nothing. To make it more dreadful, he had no idea when the bomb's timer was set or if someone far away was holding the activator. It could go off any moment.
With all his might, he calmed his fast breathing and tried to remain controlled. Habitually when stressed out, he cooled it off by pacing. While accidently hitting his feet on a one-step to a raised platform, he discovered a hollow area. One of the platform's panels was loose. Underneath it was the explosives, ready to initiate in fifteen seconds. It appeared to be nothing more than a black box with a timer; there was no wires to cut, no buttons to push. Thus, Bradley did the only thing possible. Wincing that the explosives might to go off on his hand, he hurled it through the bridge's front window with less than ten seconds left on the clock. It was barely a couple of meters away from the Garden when the blast tore the sky. A wave of its power with smoke and fire coursed through at his direction. The last he saw in a blur was the windows breaking and a torrent of sharp, heavy fragments falling down on him.
To be continued...