Thank you for the reviews! I had trouble writing this chapter, so if it feels a bit strained well... that's my fault for trying to force it out. Still, I think I made it work... enjoy:)


"Good morning!" Selphie is chirpy as always; it's something I'm grateful for this morning. At least she's being normal, and not… weird, not like Seifer is being. He never used to care so much about my personal life and I'd never have expected him to give a damn whether I have a father or not.

"Morning, Selphie," It's become habit now to say it back, to be polite.

I'm turning into some kind of civilised creature.

"Sit with us?" Quistis asks, leaning back to look up at me. She looks happy; healthier than she used to as an instructor, too. Being assistant head mistress of Garden suits her – I'm just glad that it isn't me roped into the position of assistant. I'll stick with the Commander title if I must have any at all, thanks very much.

"Alright," I say it almost before thinking, but it doesn't matter. Sitting alone, I'm a target for some random admirers to join me. I might as well share a table with the people I might call friends.

"How did it go with Laguna yesterday?" Quistis asks, after flicking her eyes over my face for a few minutes. No, Quistis, nothing has changed; no new scar and I don't show emotion in my eyes.

It's nice to be cared about, but not nice to be scrutinised this way. I shrug, "It went okay."

"As expected, then!" Selphie smiles, inclining her head.

"I suppose."

"I think it's lovely that he cares about you, Squall," Quistis says, her eyes piercing me again. One day, she will catch sight of emotion from me – from pure persistence. "God knows, of all of us, you deserve it most."

"I don't deserve anything better than you." The words are out of my mouth before I think about it; proof that I care. Damn it. But, I only spoke the truth – they deserve to have parents and a past and something more than memories of an Orphanage with one overworked Matron. Much as Matron loved us, she couldn't be Mother to us all.

Quistis looks at me, considering, then nods. "I suppose not; we've all been through the same."

I nod to that. I don't want anyone to think I'm better than them – I'm not. There's nothing that could ever make me better than anyone else, unless you're talking about fighting. That's the closest I have to a skill; the only way I could possibly be of value for. With Seifer, there's the power to command; for Quistis, it's her administrative capability, almost like magic to me, I could never do paperwork the way she does; for Selphie, it's the power she has to make anyone smile, even me. And so on.

They're all worth as much or more than me.

"Hey, what's up, baby?"

Zell has arrived. God help me. Selphie, fine, Zell, fine, but not both together. He grins at Selphie, hopping over the table to sandwich himself between her and Quistis. "Mornin' Squall!"

"Good morning, Zell." Dry and emotionless. I take back what I thought – I'm as bad now as I used to be, but I speak more now.

"I guess I'll join the party too," Irvine's voice is as dry as mine, but warm with comradeship. He sits down, winking at Zell just to aggravate the blond.

I could almost be comfortable, in this company. I know them; I've travelled with them, fought alongside of them. Grew up with them. I could almost open up to them; almost give them something of myself.

If I ever decided to open up, it'd be to one of them, or Seifer. They're people I trust with my life, so maybe I could go so far as to trust them with my secrets, someday.

"How're you?" Zell asks me, with an air of 'I'm repeating myself here', and I look up, aware that lost in my own thoughts, I missed some other chatter.

I shrug to answer him, and he rolls his eyes. "Fine, then, don't talk to us."

"Have I ever talked to you before?" It's the closest I'll ever come to a joke, that kind of deadpan toned question that mocks his statement.

"True, true," he says, waving a hand at me and making a face. "Still, I wish you'd try."

Don't push me, Zell.

Surprisingly, Selphie vocalises my thought. "Don't say that, Zell, he'll talk to us if he wants to." She meets my eyes, and smiles, an honest, caring smile.

Sometimes, she almost makes me wish I would open up. But no, it's better to be safe, and the only way I can be safe is to be closed up, distant, untouchable.

"Thanks, Selphie. For understanding that," and my voice is loud in their sudden silence. I squirm uncomfortably. I hate it when that happens; when I say something unexpected and they still everything just to stare at me.

Quistis looks at me for a moment, but thankfully, she doesn't say a word more about it. I stare down at the table for a long moment, and then Selphie, ever my saviour, speaks up, standing and waving. "Seifer! Come on over here!"

Although, I do wish she wasn't asking him over here. Him confusing me more than ever is the last thing I need. Mind you, in front of them, he probably won't say anything. If he even does come over…

No, it was too much to hope for that he wouldn't. He's not as arrogant as he used to be – isn't someone unto himself and his posse only. He'll sit with other people. That's a bad thing today – for me, anyway.

"Hey, small stuff," he says, referring to Selphie and Zell. "Good morning, Quistis," he says with somewhat more respect. And then… "And you, Ice Princess."

At least this is familiar ground.

"Good morning, Seifer." I do nothing to deny what he says – I might as well be ice.

"Having a good day, Princess?" he asks, leaning back and smirking. And like the others, trying to get a glance into my eyes.

Not you too, Seifer. You know better, surely.

I stare back, hoping to make him uncomfortable, but he only laughs. "Like that, huh?"

Quistis raises an eyebrow, sipping her coffee delicately. "What about you, Seifer? How are you?"

"Fine," he says, nonchalant, shrugging. "Had bad dreams of course, but no big."

How can he talk so openly? How can he be so open?

"Well, not bad," he says, and his eyes are on mine again, "but they don't make me feel good about myself."

Selphie tilts her head, gives him her best considering look. "Why?"

"That'd be telling," and there's that old smirk I know so well; much better. This is comfortable again. I feel safe like this – untouchable because they surround me, familiar and known. And untouchable because not even they know me. Double protections against the world, as it were.

"So, Squally-boy, what do you dream about?"

I groan inwardly. I think I've said this before. Damn him. Bringing the focus onto me again, and expecting me to answer.

Not in front of these… people. My friends. Sorry Seifer. You can have some of me, but not that much.

I don't even say goodbye as I leave the table.