Summer

Chapter 1: The fight

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Summer. The never-ending warm season of the year, agreed by all Balamb Garden students strolling out to the Quad, stealing a break between classes. At least the tree shades were cooling.

There was construction going on for a new stage, hinting that the annual graduation ball was approaching, and once again students would wear the smart SeeD uniform everyone in the garden was training for. The proof of one's utmost capabilities and endurance, Cid had especially emphasised that, in one way or another. SeeD Mercenary Force. It had a special ring to the name.

Amidst the crowds gathering at the Quad, a lone blond boy about fourteen of age was shoving one of his hands in his pocket, the other carrying a shining gunblade, and walking to a remote corner of the area. He stopped at a shady tree, and placed his blade on the soft grass beside the trunk. Leaning on the woody bark, he watched his seniors flaunting their newly acquired SeeD uniforms and frowned slightly, muttering to himself.

"Tch, I wished I were older already. I bet I could beat all those monsters out there better than those wimpy seniors."The fourteen-year-old boy cursed, and swung his leg against the old tree. He winced inwardly at the numbing pain on his toe, but refused to admit his weakness. Not in front of everyone at the Quad. He had a reputation to live up to, a notorious one, he mused.

Sitting down, his golden hair was shining as brightly as his newly acquired polished Hyperion gunblade under the hot sun. A little while ago, he had stop smoothing the ceases on his shirt, but not that he was used to doing that. He just didn't care anymore. Nobody cared about him in this garden anyway; to everyone he was just an attention deficient kid that wanted an audience every time he felt like it. No one had really like him, and they made sure he knew it. That wasn't a problem, for he knew just how to get under their skins and dig at it, just to let them know the mischievous one was still alive. It was a vicious cycle, beginning from his unpopularity, rising to his infamous misdemeanours to the further hatred he caused amongst his garden mates. He hated it, but it was a mask he had created, and had to live with.

By now, most of the students had left the Quad for lessons, leaving him alone. Sensing no one around, he rubbed his sore toe.

"Ouch!! Even the stupid old tree is against me." The pain was diminishing, but nevertheless, the tinge of discomfort was still there. Strands of grass had settled on top of his gunblade, and he lightly blew it off, using his unkempt shirttails to wipe of dirt. Raising the blade up, he saw the reflection of himself.

"Oh man, I am itching for a fight." He muttered under his breath, knowing exactly who to look for. His rival. Squall Leonhart.

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The incessant banging on the door roused him from the sleep he thought he could earn from the whole night's study on his text, "Safety during Junctioning". Purely annoyed, he draped on his jacket, and sat up on his bed, trying to focus on the door, mentally willing the person to go away. Constant knocking. Damn. He struggled to his feet, his left hand unconsciously running through his raven hair, and other reaching out for the doorknob.

Seifer was half about to give up, as he leaned against the wooden structure. He raised his hand to pound one last half-hearted knock on the unrelenting brown door, when it swung open and caught him off guard, toppling all over Squall, who registered an expression that none other would have seen. Disgust and irritation, one that was a change from his usual stoic face.

"What in the name of Hyne are you doing here, Almasy?" Squall picked himself up from the tangle they were in, hiding his relief to know that no one saw their predicaments. He jabbed his hand on his waist, and stared at his rival, discerning that this 'chat' would very well end up in a fight. His plans for catching a few winks just flew out of the window.

"I thought you'd never ask, Leonie boy," he teased and waited for his reaction. None. He was slightly disappointed, but he didn't want to show it to Squall.

"Well," he raised his voice so that the corridor would hear, "Leonie boy, you are always that confident about yourself, huh? Never seem perturbed by anything. Well, I wanna perturb you. You game, or do you just wanna wimp out?" Seifer sneered and raised his Hyperion in challenge, smirking.

He sure knows how to attract a crowd, Squall thought, watching the common corridor outside his dorm fill up with curious bystanders. Contemplating for a split second, he knew he had nothing to lose, except for that elusive sleep. Without a word, he strode towards his Griever gunblade and picked it out from its leathered casing.

"The quad. Get going."

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The two boys, both of them just tasting the first impressions of the teenage years, poised before each other, debating which move they should take. Seifer cared less, and he struck. The clashing of blades rang amidst the cheering from the spectators in the late summer afternoon. Neither of their movements were lightning speed, but they fought like seasoned warriors, each executing their act with grace and mobility. They were on par, but Seifer did not want to believe that, and so he was more ruthless. Squall saw no meaning in harming his enemy, inevitably making him more vulnerable.

Seifer raised his Hyperion against Squall, who swerved his blade under it, just barely dodging from the sharp edge. They could not determine the winner, for both were just as good. They recoiled, panting, but yet wanting to continue the search for the final victor, the final verdict. They lunged at each other.

"What are you guys doing?!" The fourteen-year-old blond hurried down the steps to the Quad, as the students hastily made their appearance scarce, leaving only Seifer, who had put down his blade and was cracking his knuckles, grinning, and Squall, who was ignoring Quistis' calls and looking into Dr. Kadowaki's office.

"What were you doing?! Fighting?" She chastised the two boys. They knew what the punishment was, and they knew it well even before they chose to fight. Punishment was not an option. It was a certainty. Quistis looked at the two scruffy boys, drenched in the summer perspiration. She sighed, not knowing what to do with them. One was the unruly one, the other, well, perhaps the shy and introverted one. The one she cared more. The one that was most probably picked on by that Seifer. Somehow, she couldn't figure out how she had such a sisterly attitude towards Squall, but the fact was she would want to shield him, the strong but vulnerable one. Seifer could take care of himself.

"I assume you're the one who picked the fight, Seifer," she asked consciously, well aware of the answer. The reply was swift and without guilt.

"Yeah." He had his gunblade perched on his shoulders, tapping.

"Would you promise me you wouldn't do that again?"

"Do what? What have we done?" The blond boy retorted, grinning at Squall, who was looking at everywhere else except at Seifer. "We were just fooling around, we're buddies, yeah?" He smirked.

With that, he strolled off, whistling. No one could do anything to him. Not now, not ever.

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The sprinkling water felt heaven on his burning skin as he tousled his golden hair with shampoo. The fight was refreshing, and added another score to his endless notoriety. Mission for today was accomplished, having lured half the school down, and Quistis, to watch him. Attention scored, extra bonus for Quistis, he thought, smiling to himself.

Water and soap bubbles spattered merrily on the tiled floor, in rhythm to his whistling.

Wait a minute... What Quistis? He mused.

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A/N: Just something I wrote long before, and edited a little. One-shot for Seifer, and I don't think I would continue with this fic, after all, it's another one of my older fics. No value. Anyhow, reviews are greatly appreciated...