Ch. 9: Dirty Blood

Squall paused as Riku snarled at him, stake in hand. It was only a sudden remembrance of what he was that caused him to dodge as the stake was driven through the air, watching as Riku's arm muscles flexed in an attempt to change the weapon's course. The boy had extremely good aim, with the piece of sharpened wood flying through the point where his chest had just been, now harmlessly a few feet away. Though Squall was technically a safe distance away, he made sure to keep his guard up, waiting for any possible weakness in the teen's defenses. He cursed himself for leaving his Gunblade behind, and felt extremely vulnerable without it. Riku was aiming to kill him; that was more than reason enough to defend himself against his attack.

Riku growled slightly as he missed, his arm and body flying harmlessly past the vampire. He cursed himself inwardly for underestimating this one's speed, and was somewhat bewildered as to why he wasn't dead or injured yet. Ordinarily, one slip-up in battle meant the end of whoever had made the dire error; mostly this applied to human Knights accidentally miscalculating a blow or misjudging the vampires' speed, as he had done. He smiled at the thought that perhaps this was a new member of their legion, a novice at combat. With the grin still on his face, he charged in yet again, kicking off from the ground with his oversized shoes and holding the stake like he did his old blade. That was where Squall saw the opening he had been looking for.

Squall promptly grabbed the boy by his pale, muscular right arm, which he held the stake in. Startled, Riku gasped as Squall turned, flipping the silver-haired boy over his shoulder, landing the boy on his back gasping on the wooden floor. As he was not yet used to his undead strength, which he had rather conveniently acquired first, he was somewhat surprised to find that, as Riku gasped in exasperation on the floor, his body had made a rather noticeable indent in the wooden boards. The wind knocked out of his unconscious opponent, Squall simply grabbed the stake before throwing it at the wall, watching it embed half of itself into the wood. It didn't wobble, but simply stayed still… unfortunately, because Quistis had been standing around that general area, she gasped and clutched her throat as it landed mere millimeters away from her neck. She watched it stick there, standing in silence for a moment before turning a scowl towards Squall. She knew he meant well, but…

"Stop it, both of you!" Quistis yelled, shaking off the shock as she stormed over to the combatants, leading Squall aside from Riku's body. She felt Riku's pulse, and sighed to see that it was still strong, before examining Squall's neck; she had to see for herself. Her heart filled with dread; she had known their intent, praying and hoping earnestly that she had been wrong, that they needed him alive, or something… just not that…

No, it's not true… it couldn't be… She pushed back his brown strands of hair from his neck and gasped in shock, her eyes growing wide as she saw the dark red stains and telltale piercings that labeled him as one of the undead. She couldn't bring herself to move, simply staring at his wounds. Squall stood, motionless as he felt Quistis's hands on his neck… he felt her pulse race through the pads of her fingertips, felt her warmth against him… Though his skin had not gone cold yet, he could feel the temperature difference between them. It was not that he was dead; he had been out in the cold night air the entire night, and she in the warmth of the room they currently stood in. All that could be heard in were the crackles from the fire, and the pops as the wood sparked and leaped like fireworks in the mantle. One with good enough hearing would also be able to hear Riku's soft, ragged breathing as he lay on the floor, sprawled out on his back while the pain he experienced still showed faintly on his pale face.

"I… I can't believe it… Squall?" Her eyes locked with his, her sapphire eyes pleading with him, her ears longing to hear the denial; that it hadn't happened, that it wasn't true. The last thing she had ever wanted to lose was a member of the Knights; now that he had shown up, he was on the top of her priority list. She never wanted to lose him, let alone like this. She watched, her heart almost tearing in two within her chest as his stormy blue eyes met hers for a brief second before turning away, the pain evident within them. Pain, sorrow, regret, anger… a mess of negative emotions, all concentrated in one gaze; and yet, only two of them were directed at her; pain and regret.

"…It was Rinoa." He said simply, his eyes now devoid of emotion, like placid pools as he turned his head away from her. The last thing he wanted was to have caused her pain, and yet, he seemed to feel the sorrow and pain roll off of her in waves as he felt her body begin to shake. Slightly bewildered, he looked down, only to find her face buried in his black leather jacket. Her body was shaking from light sobs, and he heard the soft cries she emitted as her left hand clutched his jacket, while the right wrapped around his back and waist unconsciously. Squall fidgeted a bit, not knowing just how to deal with a crying woman or the hand that was conveniently placed slightly above his belts as he felt her warmth continue to emanate from her body, warming his chilled flesh.

"That… that bitch…" She said, now tightening her grip with both of her arms, only then realizing where her right arm was. With a shocked gasp, she quickly pushed him away, the tears still in her eyes as she looked up at him, her gaze full of hatred for the woman who infected him, and sorrow for the one who stood before her. Her cheeks were flushed, spreading like wildfire across her cheeks as she wiped her eyes, looking up at him. Crying was only an excuse, and had nothing to do with it; she had not cried nearly enough to get her face that red to such a degree. As she thought about why she had blushed, and so violently, she noticed that there was an odd silhouette behind the man she spoke to… Only then did she realize that someone was standing behind Squall, a hand raised with a weapon in hand. With a shocked cry, her expression turned to one of anger. She moved Squall in the only way she could.

She punched him in the face as hard as she could, watching as his head turned and dipped slightly from the force, allowing her to whip the one behind him, snapping the braided weapon against the assailant's wrist. Squall seemed to take the hint at this point, ducking and quickly rolling away, not caring how dirty his outfit might have gotten. She heard the voice of the one she whipped cry out in shock and pain as she proceeded to lash the whip upwards, watching as, sure enough, the dexterous weapon grasped the hilt of the blade, allowing her to jerk it free of the attacker's hand. With a swift turn of her wrist, the blade was in her hands, delivered via the whip as she turned the edge of the blade at the attempted assassin's neck. She motioned towards Squall with a nod of the head, the SeeD leaving for the Infirmary, where Kairi had gone off to tell Sora to open the door for him.

"Riku, I demand that you stop this nonsense." She snapped, the Soul Edge's hilt wrapped in the whip and gripped in her hands as the blade continued to hover perilously close to the teen's throat. His glassy blue eyes glared at her, full of anger and misunderstanding as he spoke, his voice full of barely-contained rage and hatred.

"As do I, Quistis. What are you doing? He's a vampire!" He spat, not caring that the blade's tip was now against his neck. His fists clenched against his sides, slightly shaking from the strength he poured into them. His face was twisting into a snarl as he awaited her reply.

"Squall is one of us, Riku." She said, her eyes cold, chilled with a hint of malice. Knight or not, he wasn't about to get away with staking or decapitating a long-time friend.

"He's a vampire, Quistis! Just like Yuna!"

"He's a Knight, Riku! Just like you!"

"Are you going to let him in to attack us, too! How do you know he hasn't been seeing Rinoa behind our backs, either!" He didn't even see it coming as his face was suddenly thrown violently to one side as her hand connected with the opposite cheek. She wanted so badly to slash his throat, but knew that fury was blinding her judgment in this scenario. Regardless, the blade was still held to his neck, her grip slightly shaky as her fury-filled eyes overflowed with bitter tears that would not and could not be held back.

"No! He couldn't have been! You know nothing! He would never…" She screamed, her voice for once losing its cool against a psychological attack. It was just too much, and Riku could sense it.

"Look at you, Quistis! You're courting a dead man!" He yelled, watching as she flinched against his words. He knew he had done it; he had attacked the core of the subject, found the weakness of the cold instructor's heart. He stopped as she lowered the Soul Edge, letting the purple blade drop to the floor as she crumpled soon after it, landing on her knees and putting her weight on her hands in an almost kneeling position. However, considering no one was in front of the direction she was facing, and the fact that her hands were balled into tight fists told that she was not in any way servile, but rather consumed by fury, grief, and suffering.

"No, no, no…" She gasped, her eyes wide open as her head hung down between her arms as she struggled to find answers that so eluded her. Her eyes couldn't focus, nor did she care. Hell, she didn't care if she had gone blind at that very moment. She felt the cold spear that was truth simply slice through her heart, feeling the dread and the heartache course through her body like the deadly toxins they were. It was true, and she knew it. She just didn't want to believe it…

"Quistis…" Riku regretted his words as he saw how devastating they truly were against her, walking over to her and kneeling on the floor beside her. His eyes were filled with regret as he reached over; to hug her, or at least comfort her. He had inflicted the damage; it was up to him to heal the wounds that he had afflicted on one of his fellow Knights.

"Don't touch me." She said coldly, turning away and flinching at his touch. The last thing she had wanted to feel was the touch of the one so heartless as to call her a necrophiliac. Though he hadn't said it outright, he sure as hell implied it with his 'dead man' interjection. She felt his hand move away, and heard his soft sigh as he stayed right where he was. He did not move away, as she had expected him to, instead feeling her hair being pushed away from her face by his hand.

"I… look... I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" He sighed, and stopped trying to explain. He knew she would be deaf to his cries; he knew her well enough to know that. He'd shot his mouth off, and it would cost him dearly, just as his foolish actions in the past had left his heart naught but a darkness-infested shell; though he was still allowed to feel some select few emotions like love or happiness, it amplified others like pain, suffering, and loss.

"Riku… just… leave me alone. I mean it. Leave." She spat, watching triumphantly as she saw him flinch in his spot. He sighed, realizing that he could probably never look her straight in the eye, let alone stay in the same room, after this. He stood up, pushing off the ground with his left hand as he dusted off his knees. Turning away from her, be started to walk out, his feet and the fire making the only noises in the room as he continued on his way to the door. Upon reaching it, he opened the door, listening to it creak slightly against the hinges as he started to leave. Only brief hesitances kept him from walking out at that instant, and make him vow never to see her again. Looking back at her, he spoke one more time before he closed the door behind him.

"Just remember then, Quistis… no matter how much you hate me, I'll always love you." With that, he turned away, closing the door behind him as he felt the small box in his pocket. He pulled it out, looking at the velvet box in his hands. With a sigh of disgust, he made his way to the Infirmary, where he promptly threw into his cabinet. It didn't look like he would have the chance to give it to anyone for a long, long time.