Hello there
The angel from my nightmare
The shadow in the background of the morgue
The unsuspecting victim
Of darkness in the valley
-Blink-182 (I Miss You)
All the Pretty Shades of Gray
Squall's coming and going was barely recorded. When he entered her room, an hour and a half later looking like Adonis himself, it only felt like he had been gone for two minutes. Not that she minded. "I can't believe you're still lying around." He didn't sound so playful now, more like exhaustingly annoyed, "RINOA!" Paf! A pillow violently landed on her head.
"Squall?" She murmured sleepily and made no effort to move or to show any signs that she was going to get up.
"It's 9 o'clock, we have things to do, you take hours to get ready, you haven't started yet, I'm impatient, I'm also hungry, I know you suck at cooking breakfast, the restaurants must be nearly full, HURRY UP!"
"Squall, I'm starting right now … you can't see it, but I'm stretching … very … slowly …" Rinoa yawned and continued fueling the ticking man, "By the time I'm ready, it will be in between breakfast and lunch and so the restaurants will be empty and we have all afternoon to do the things we have to do - what do we have to do anyway? Forget it. Brief me later."
"I'M HUNGRY NOW!" He had evolved from 'annoyed' to plain out 'grumpy'. Squall Leonhart had a bad habit of looking unbearably adorable sometimes. Especially with that pout.
"Mmm …" She sat on the edge of the bed, contemplating if she felt ready to achieve the whole 'getting ready' ordeal, "I'm hungry too, hunny, if you want to be a real sweetheart, you can go make pancakes while I take my shower." Rinoa stretched one last time and strut calmly towards the bathroom.
"Pancakes?" He snapped incredulously, "You want me to make you pancakes? You're trying to be funny, aren't you? Ha-ah, yeah, as if I'm going to bust my ass in your kitchen to make Her Majesty some goddamn pancakes, dream on and while you're at - pick up the speed." He watched her body disappear in the bathroom.
Suddenly, her head popped out from the doorframe, she grimaced at him and replied in a steely voice, "Just make the pancakes … slave."
He found himself glaring at a suddenly slammed-shut door. He would have actually remained there, giving it his best death look until Rinoa reappeared again however, his stomach was telling him he would die before she finished. Stepping over his pride and ignoring his screaming ego, he resentfully entered the kitchen to begin searching for a pan.
"ARE YOU SUBTLY doing some major ass-kissing for a favor you need to ask me later on?" Ellone asked derisively when she opened the door to find Irvine with two Styrofoam containers, probably coming from a diner where he had picked up her favorite meal of the day - scrambled eggs with sausages and deliciously buttered toast. She could actually smell it and it made her mouth water, much to her dismay. Oh, scrumptious, fattening goodness … come to mommy …
"Yes. But enough about me, how're you?" He gave a big, wide, fake smile to expose his perfectly white teeth and allowed himself into the apartment.
"Tired. Did you get any news from Rinoa?" She asked immediately and closed the door quietly behind him, "Any calls? Visits? Whatevers?"
"Not really, but you can rail off your endless guilt trip now. I have a hunch that things will be just fine." He deposited the containers on the table and looked for the coffee machine, "Got any elixir of life freshly made?"
"No, I'll get on that right away." Ellone strode to the counter and filled her coffee pot, "What's your hunch?"
"James called me. He said he gave her a ticket out of here … to Balamb. I don't know if Rinoa's going to listen to him but according to the old man, they had a pretty cleansing conversation. The fact that there's lots of pieces to glue back together isn't forgotten, but I think that may have helped Rin … maybe just a little." Irvine smiled weakly at Ellone and opened a Styrofoam container, "So, seeing as I'll probably be alone in the office today with no one to yell and threaten me, I was wondering if you'd like to watch me make a couple of phone calls and I'd take you out to lunch … and dinner."
Ellone sneered, "Major ass-kissing. And I had forgotten that I'm out of a job because of that little incident with my boss. But I doubt watching you work would be more productive."
"That's the thing, I think I may have a job for you. Here, I'll lay it out for you - twenty-four bucks an hour, an hour and a half lunch break, easy going, near stress-free job requiring no high school diploma, much less a major in anything, two full weeks of holidays a year, unlimited 'sick days', if you get my drift, and virtually no boss." Irvine smirked and sat down at the table, "How's that sound?"
"Fanciful … make-believe." She replied truthfully, "Now be honest with me."
"Sweetheart, I am honest." He flashed her one of those irresistible grins, "So, will you lend yourself to a fairytale, if just for a little while?"
"AW, YOUR SUCH a Prince Charming … in … heavy disguise or something." Rinoa cooed lovingly, an hour later when she found Squall in the kitchen, just laying out the plate of pancakes on the table, "Like … as if you're still in frog form … so you're almost there, don't give up."
He growled something under his breath and set the syrup and orange juice next to the large plate of delicious-looking pancakes, complete with a side order of grapes and blueberries that he had actually gone out to get at the corner store after having noticed Rinoa had nothing to make pancakes with. He forked her the first pancake and flipped it into her plate. I'll see her call me a liar and a bastard next time I tell her I love her, ungrateful little …
"Asshole!"
Squall gaped at her incredulously, "What?" A mixture of confusion and anger colored his face.
"You totally did that on purpose - you gave me the first one … the first ones are always retarded!" She sat down and glared at him accusingly, pointing to the deformed pancake.
He shut his eyes. She did not just give that lame excuse to pick a fight with me. She HAS to be in PMS, what is WRONG with this woman, she's worse than my mother and I thought NO ONE could be as worse as my mother because my mother was going through menopause for half her life for fuck's sake. He opened his eyes again only to see her biting her lip, trying to kill the smile before it surfaced. When he stared at her with a raised eyebrow, she cracked a grin and he thought he would melt. How long had it been since he had seen that smile? The genuine one, torn from the conformity of the cynical habits.
"Whatever." He muttered, his eyes fixated on her upturned lips, wondering how long they would stay that way. It was as if last night never happened … the angst-riddled conversation, the harsh accusations … his idiotic words meant only to hurt her, "So, do you want to hear what's the schedule for today?" Wrong words, again.
Her smile over turned itself, "I don't see what's so particularly important." He wanted to kick himself. Why didn't you just shut up? Why couldn't you just let her eat in peace, she doesn't give a shit what business you want to take care of today, for the love of Christ, what'd you go do that for, Leonhart? He had ruined it all.
"I guess nothing is particularly important." He attempted to cover it up, act like there was no plans, act like he didn't want to talk to her about anything, "Just … maybe … visiting people, I don't know."
Rinoa peered up from her plate at him, "Visiting people? Like who?"
He mentally slapped his forehead. You're one dumb fuck, Leonhart, you are one dumb fuck. What an excellent question she was asking. Who would they visit? He shrugged and shoveled more pancakes in his mouth. She was silent and he could see she wasn't touching her food … this meant only one thing - his answer had not satisfied her, "I don't know …" He answered, mouth half-full. She stared back, far from amused, he swallowed, "Your brother? Ellone? Your father? Who else? Lynch?"
"Un huh." Her eyes were downcast, back onto her plate again. Squall could figure out by her tone of voice that she didn't particularly feel very sociable today.
IT WOULD HAVE been sheer torture both to him and to her if she had made them sit on the couch and watch television all day. She was well aware but the thought of going out and acting like nothing was wrong was almost repulsing. So when he picked up the keys and gave her an almost pleading look, she was torn between two alternatives.
"Where?" Rinoa asked, eying the set of keys as if it were a foe.
"Anywhere you want to go." It was the best answer he could give, she was aware of that too.
"Fine, let's go."
IRVINE HELD THE Syndicate doors for Ellone open and entered himself afterwards, "So, have you thought about it?"
"I'm thinking about it right now, Irvine, and I'm having trouble believing you." Ellone scowled back and turned towards him, "What is this 'job' you might have for me? Is it something illegal?"
"No." Irvine answered passively and waved his hand as if to say, I'd NEVER put you in a situation of the likes! But then tilted his head and shrugged, "Well, maybe. Maybe as in sometimes it is, sometimes it's not. One minute you're the Virgin Mary, the next you're the Devil's whore, it's really a compromise of the both … it's fun, I promise. You get paid to do virtually nothing all day."
Irvine strode to the elevator and summoned it. When the metallic doors slid open, he motioned for Ellone to go in first and then pressed the button for the fourth floor. Ellone still remained very skeptical, "I hate riddles, out with it."
He didn't reply, only strode out of the elevator as a ding sounded and made a beeline for his secretary's desk, "Hey Vicky, any messages for me?"
Vicky was a gum-chewer and bubble-blower, usually sporting tight jeans and equally tight shirts that flattered her already voluptuous curves. A man with a quick eye could always spot the side-straps of her thongs rising far above her low cut jeans. It was inexplicable - this girl always had a tan. A tan that suited well with her flat stomach and pierced belly button. She had been the object of Rinoa's smart comments far more times than once, with her metallic eye shadow and glowing lip-gloss. No one, including her, knew what her natural hair color was, but this week, she was a curly redhead.
To the male employees, Irvine bragged about how many times he had coaxed her into his office - she was his secretary after all so it had never been really hard but to the girls, he claimed he'd never touch a woman like that … who knew what kind of infectious diseases she carried? To Rinoa, he could never really lie, after all - she had been an unfortunate witness and had begged him to lock his door once in a while. She, on her part, had also learnt to knock.
Vicky smiled with her almost plastic-looking lips, snapped her gum and replied, "None at all, Irvy. Are you expecting a call?"
Ellone, who was standing in back of him, rolled her eyes and tried to keep herself from sputtering a rather nasty comment. She did so for her own sake … God only knew what those manicured nails could pierce. It was upon further examination of 'Vicky' that what else should appear to Ellone's eyes than a stretched mini t-shirt, labeling her generously proportioned chest 'If only these were brains'. She could hardly contain herself from gawking. If only, honey, if only … who WEARS a shirt like that?
"No, not really. Any messages for my-"
"I absolutely love your shirt by the way." Ok, so that one had slipped. It was certainly not Ellone's fault. The sign on that girl's shirt was begging to be addressed.
Irvine stared at Ellone for a moment and cleared his throat. The secretary blew a bubble with her pink gum and it popped. "Ok, Ellone, just go wait for me in my office. I'll be with you in a second. Just let me finish up." He pointed to an oak door and urged her with his eyes.
She raised an eyebrow and replied a bit cynically, "No problem." With a swift turn on her heel, she was off towards his office and she shut the door behind her.
"I can't believe Rinoa and Irvine pay such a dumbass to do virtually nothing all day." She uttered spitefully and stopped herself short, "Oh, he's got to be kidding me." Ellone slapped her forehead, groaned and fell into a chair. It was five minutes before Irvine entered his office, a bit baffled but still smiling, "I don't want her job."
His face fell, "Oh you're kidding me!" He threw his arms up towards the heavens and fell on his knees, "She went into hysterics, Ellone, threatened the future of my children, I did this for you, the least you could do is show your gratitude by assuming the position of the Syndicate general secretary!"
"Irvine - you don't HAVE children."
"Potentially, yes, I do."
Ellone groaned and put her face in her hands, "By appointing me this position you are insulting my intelligence, my creative spirit and my talent for journalism … because, yes, I assure you that somewhere, deep within me I have a talent for journalism!"
He sighed a frowned, "Just for a little while … after you get yourself a new job, then feel free to quit but just make me feel like I helped you at some point."
"If I accepted, I would be helping you!"
"We'd be helping each other, Elle! You get all her benefits, holidays, salary, everything! Think about it!"
"Wait a minute, wait a fucking minute … are you telling me that you were paying that moron twenty-four dollars an hour?"
"TURN ON FERN …" Rinoa directed and pointed to a dojo, "Right there."
Squall parked on the curb and stopped the engine, "Are you sure you want to go here?"
"What's the problem with here? I don't really want to see my father, once every ten years is enough, Irvine would only skip around me like a child asking if I'm alright and after what happened the other day, I'd rather avoid your sister for a little longer. The Wakasenshi happen to be nice people to talk to … and anyways, I've been procrastinating another meeting for too long. They might think I'm dead. We wouldn't want that, now would we?" Rinoa explained lightly and got out of the car.
Squall followed suite and leaned against the side of the car, "You know, the man the Trepies were paying last night was an old member of the Wakasenshi. His name is Tsang, he was on the same bus as I was when you got Diabolos to bail me."
"I'd rather not talk about that - and got Diabolos to bail you? I did no such thing." Rinoa replied innocently, shutting the car door and strode towards the doors. Squall followed close behind, mimicking a mocked sign of the cross and prayed silently to his non-existent God, This girl is impossible, please, give me the strength, give me the wisdom, give me the patience, give me the absolute stupidity required to submit myself to her reign and catalyze the assassination of my pride and dignity. Amen.
Unaware that she had come to a full stop at the doors, he nearly tripped over her, "What? You want me to hold the door?" He snapped, now frustrated and looking from left to right, making sure no one had witnessed the near-accident. Boy, would that have been embarrassing.
She spun around, glaring at him, "Why don't you? Usually, there are personal greeters, but they seem to be on holiday today, make yourself useful." She motioned to the door in a sharp manner.
If only to mock her, he bowed and wrenched the door open for her. Though he tried to bite it back, his impersonation of Igor, Dr. Frankenstein's hunchback assistant, surfaced from his mind and flew out of his mouth, "Yeiiiss, maaiiissstuuur …"
"Thank you, unworthy servant." She smiled for a second time that day. It was worth it just for that.
When they entered the dojo, they should have known something was wrong right off the bat. Rinoa stood rigid, "Why is it so quiet?"
Squall spoke louder than his counterpart and sarcastically at that, "It's like the house of the fricken' dead, is this some sort of Feng Shui crap they do? Be silent … be still … ?"
"Will you stop being a total dipshit?" She whispered hoarsely, "It isn't usually this quiet." She began climbing the stairs slowly, as if afraid to make them crack and set in motion a human-sized mousetrap. Squall had a distinct impression of being someone's prey. The silence was comparable to a piece composed for Alfred Hitchcock classics. He half expected a tiger to leap from the shadows beyond and throw itself at them.
Instead of a haunting figure's silhouette dancing out from the dark wielding a knife, the haunting composition was halted by soft whimpers coming just beyond a closed door. "Sounds like a beaten dog." Squall muttered, "Or something else, but I won't get into that." Rinoa didn't answer him. The set of events that followed unrolled with such anxious panic, no one really registered what was going on.
ARIANNA TRIED TO hold her breath but failed. Fearfully, she clutched her knees as she heard footsteps inching their way to her hiding spot. Who was this? It wasn't her brother, she had heard voices just beyond the closet door and though they hadn't been completely unfamiliar, she was positive that she didn't know them.
They know I'm in here. She thought panicked, letting off a quick succession of sobs and shuffling herself deeper into the corner. "What're you doing?" The deeper voice demanded to the first set of feet, the ones closer to the door. She could see the tips of the trespassers' shoes.
There was no hiding from the blinding light that filtered through the void, where the door used to be. Arianna was seized with fear and she let out a piercing cry at the figure standing shell-shocked in the doorway.
SURPRISED, RINOA JUMPED back a few steps and would have fallen over if Squall hadn't caught her and stabilized her footing, "What the fuck?" He cried and peered into the closet in awe. That's the kid that owes me money! What the hell is she doing in there … child abuse? Anyone a social worker here?
Though Squall had not fully registered the gravity of the situation, Rinoa now knew that something was terribly wrong. "Who are you?" She kneeled in the doorway of the closet and held out a hand for the tiny child but the act was not reciprocated immediately. Arianna was afraid. Terribly afraid. Yes, she knew her. The pretty Rinoa Heartilly. And the man standing behind her, preoccupied by something else … she knew him too.
Squall moved stealthily down the hall towards the rice paper door and pushed past it. The pancakes rose in his throat as he saw the massacre before him. Bullets had not been enough. The limp bodies hung on the floor, on the desk, each defaced with incredible precision by blades of some kind. The walls had been painted with blood and even the smell … carnage. His eyes darted from mutilated cadaver from mutilated cadaver until he couldn't take it anymore. He turned from the sight and shut the thin door.
Rinoa was still kneeling towards the hiding child, "Grab the kid, and get out. We're going. Now." She stared at him and for a split second, when their eyes locked, she saw the atrocious massacre that he had. The horror, now in her own iris, transferred back to Arianna who was already hyperventilating and sobbing painfully.
Her vision dimmed with endless tears and finally, she made her decision. Her brother was dead. Zell's dead, Zell's gone forever, just like mommy and daddy. He's not coming back, I'm alone. Her arms reached out for the woman in front of her who seemed to be radiating safety. "Don't hurt me, please, don't hurt me." She hung on tightly, too afraid to let go. I don't want to be alone.
AS IRVINE CONTINUED to plead and beg, the phone on his desk gave a ring that startled the both of them. He heaved himself to his feet and picked up the phone casually noticing the number on the caller ID, "The Syndicate, how may I help you, James?"
"The fat-headed mule, I mean … my daughter, didn't board that plane at noon."
"Is this supposed to surprise me?"
"No. What is supposed to worry you, however, is that she isn't answering her home phone or her cellular phone. I can't locate Squall Leonhart, and that is very, very nerve racking because for all I know, he may have done absolutely nothing about last night's meeting in the industrial sector." Caraway sounded almost hysteric on the other end and this grinded Irvine's nerves raw.
He shifted his weight from foot to foot and glared at a spot on the wall, "I'll find her."
"Alive, we're all hoping."
Irvine slammed the phone down and grabbed his jacket, "Rinoa and Squall are both M.I.A."
Author's Pointless Rambles: Bah, no comment on this chapter, and who needs it? Had a bad week, had a worse day, feeling absolutely shit-tastic. Review, Goddamnit, please. No feedback no next chapter. Particularly because I don't have a next chapter and I'm not very motivated to write one either. Oh, and the chapter is late, yes, I know, no one needs to remind me.
