Kiros sat in the airship, listening to Laguna chatter -- a rambling story revolving around a horse and a frog trapped in a lifeboat. Laguna had also found a substantial length of string in his pockets and set about making a cat's cradle and, in doing so, had inextricably bound his hands together.
"So then the bartender says--" Laguna mumbled, his mouth full of string as he tried to chew through a particularly stubborn knot.
"They're in a lifeboat," Kiros snapped.
"Hrm?"
"Your story takes place in a lifeboat. You don't have a bartender. You have a horse and a frog. You can't just have a bartender show up and start talking."
Laguna frowned. He attempted to make a rude gesture in Kiros's direction, but this extra motion pulled the reluctant string even tighter, cutting off circulation to the offending digit.
"Well, if you know the story so well, you tell it."
Kiros sighed. "Laguna, aren't you worried at all?"
The President gestured with his bound hands. "Oh, I always manage to get untangled."
"No. I'm not talking about the string. I'm talking about one of our top Ambassadors turning coat and kidnapping the daughter of the Galbadian Republic's most powerful general. And she, by the way, was placed in our care by your son in an effort to keep her away from Justinian Varrant – to whom she has now been delivered. Does this bother you in the slightest?"
Laguna shrugged. "Of course it bothers me. That's why I wanted to go see Caraway. I just don't see any point in getting worked up over it. Why not relax and enjoy the flight?"
"I can't relax. This could undo everything we've worked for over the last few decades. This could destroy us."
Laguna smiled, his face serene. "You see, Kiros," he said. His hands worked an intricate dance and the coils of string fell off his fingers, dropping into a neat pile on the floor. "These things have a way of working themselves out."
Laguna wandered through the corridors of the hotel, listless. The Republic Hotel – formerly the Deling City Hotel – had changed drastically in the intervening years. The once-ornate furnishings had given way to sleek, modern lines. Gold and silver had yielded to black lacquer and chrome. It could still boast the nicest rooms in the city, but its fawning treatment of the rich and famous had died with the Deling regime.
Laguna's entourage occupied an entire floor of the hotel. Since Varrant-now-Mallis resurfaced, Kiros insisted Laguna bring a massive security detail whenever and wherever he traveled. Guards dotted the hallways, aides whispered in hushed tones, and Laguna smiled at them all as he passed. No one stopped to question the briefcase in his hand but he saw several curious looks.
He paused outside one room, and his hand closed on the door handle. He took a deep breath and, then, losing his nerve, walked away.
He resumed his walk, turning the corner and coming across the bank of elevators. One of his guards stood there, a red-haired woman named Elena kept watch with a calm detachment.
"Hi, Elena," Laguna smiled, "I hear there's good news."
She smiled back, her face lighting up as she pressed a hand to her stomach. "Yeah, I just found out a couple days ago."
"Have you started thinking of names yet?" he asked.
Her grin widened. "I was thinking Laguna if it's a boy and Laguna-ette if it's a girl," she winked.
"Hey, I like those odds!" he exclaimed.
"You know, sir," she said, "this is my last assignment and all and I just wanted to let you know it's been a real honor serving you."
"Oh, it was my pleasure," he replied. "Having nice people surrounding me makes this job bearable."
"So, I guess you'll be wanting to go downstairs?" she asked, gesturing with her head to the elevator. "Should I call for a team to escort you?"
"No, don't bother," he said. "I just wanted to return your briefcase," he said, handing it off to her.
She looked puzzled and tried to hand it back. "This isn't mine, sir."
"Sure it is," he insisted. "Has your initials on it." His eyes sparkled as he pushed it at her again. "Maybe you should open it, see if there's anything inside that belongs to you."
She set the briefcase on the table between the elevators and popped it open. Her eyes widened in shock as she tried to comprehend the hefty pile of cash inside. She looked up just in time to see the elevator doors closing in front of Laguna.
"Happy retirement," he called out, grinning as the elevator started to descend.
Elena reached for her phone and started dialing Kiros's number.
Please excuse our dust while we renovate.
The renovations had not yet reached the bar of the hotel. More than any other part of the hotel, Laguna could see the past. It lurked in the furniture, concealed under white cloth and in the sound of a piano that haunted Laguna's memory.
"I'm sorry," he murmured to the air, sliding into the seat he'd last occupied so many years ago. "I should have known. We'll get her back. I promise."
"What are you doing, Laguna?" came Kiros's voice as he walked down the stairs.
"Kiros!" Laguna exclaimed, brightening. "I wanted to get a drink, but the service here is terrible. I can see why this place is empty."
Kiros stopped in front of the table, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Cut the act," he snapped.
"Wha-?"
"We both know what you're doing here. This isn't about Caraway at all, is it?"
"I don't—"
Kiros clasped his hands behind his back and started pacing like a caged animal.
"I was a little baffled at first. You suggested the meeting with Caraway. When have you ever taken the initiative on affairs of state?"
Kiros whirled, facing Laguna.
"Then I started reading the latest reports from Garden. The same reports that get delivered to you, and that you so-carefully pretend you don't read. SeeD is going to take back Balamb Garden tonight. No doubt you'd love to be there. On the front lines. Side by side with your kid, fighting the good fight. But how would you get there?""I—"
"It just so happens, however, that SeeD is launching a two-pronged attack. The first prong to take on Varrant. Recover Garden and rescue Rinoa. The second prong will attack The Storm. Which is currently housed... well, right here in ol' Galbadia. Is that the plan, Laguna? Slip the leash, slide over to the Missile Base, and pick up where you left off twenty years ago?"
Laguna stared at Kiros, mouth agape. "I just wanted something to—"
"Give me some credit, Laguna. You smile that idiot grin of yours, but I see it in your eyes: you're on a crusade. You're out to save the world again."
"And what's so bad about that?" Laguna shot back. "We dropped the ball on this one. What's wrong with trying to make it right?"
"Because there's more at stake here than you realize. Everything is at stake here. Everything we've worked for. Everything we've built. It's not just your life you'll be risking. It's... the entire country."
Kiros paused, waiting for Laguna to respond. When he did not, Kiros continued.
"Think about it. You – the President – want to join in a mercenary action on Galbadian soil. That's tantamount to an act of war."
Laguna spread his hands. "What do you want me to do?"
"Walk away," Kiros pressed. "Just... walk away from this one. Meet with Caraway. Tell him SeeD is on the job. Then we just go home. We raise the Curtain again. Police the borders until Varrant tries to make a move, and that's when we get him."
Laguna shook his head. "That's the problem. We should never have installed that damn Curtain in the first place. That's what got us to this point. We let Varrant roam free for twenty years. We assumed he was someone else's problem. Now he's got all the allies and resources he needs."
"We won, Laguna. We won the war. We aren't the revolution any more. We're the status quo. He has to overthrow us."
"He already conquered the country once. He's the one who installed Adel on the throne in the first place."
"He had Adel, though. She's dead and buried. He's weak and desperate."
Laguna laughed in disbelief. "Do you remember who we're talking about? Even 'weak' he's still more powerful than most Sorceresses. He's also patient and brilliant. He won't attack us until he's good and ready. If we wait, we'll be fighting on his terms, when his chance of success is highest. We have to take the fight to his door."
"Damn it, Laguna," Kiros growled. "This is not squashing bugs in some stupid backwoods town. You're the President. Start acting like it. Take some responsibility."
"Responsibility? You're the one who thinks we should stick our heads in the sand and hope he'll go away."
"I'm not saying we should do nothing. I'm saying we dig deep. Fortify our defenses, so that when he comes for us, and he will—"
"When?" Laguna nearly leapt to his feet, almost overturning the table in the process. "When?"
Kiros looked down at the floor, unwilling to finish his statement.
"You don't think they can do it," Laguna pushed. "You think he's going to kill Squall."
"I think," Kiros said, speaking slowly, "that they have very little idea who they're dealing with. You and I, we know what he's capable of. We saw it firsthand. To Squall... he's a history lesson."
"You think he's going to kill Squall."
Kiros slumped. "I do. I think he's going to kill every one of them. I think he's going to kill Squall and turn his singular talent for... persuasion to Rinoa. And then – if he hasn't already – he's going to force Adel's power out of the girl and into anyone who's available, including himself if need be. And once he's done that..."
Kiros spread his hands in an unmistakable gesture of defeat.
"That's why we have to fight him, Kiros," Laguna said, closing with his friend. "We can't just hope for the best this time. We're not going to be safe until he's dead."
"So... that's it. You're just going to pack up and go?"
Laguna shook his head. "It doesn't have to be that way." He paused for a long moment. "Come with me, Kiros. Come fight with me. Ward has the reins back at home. We slip out tonight, meet up with SeeD, and we're back at the hotel by morning. Like old times."
Kiros smiled a little. "Like old times, huh?"
"Exactly! You and I, side by side," he said, and Kiros's grin widened. "Doing good deeds, fighting for a cause."
Kiros's smile dropped. "That was never my dream. It was yours."
"You're not coming," Laguna said. A statement and not a question.
"You're going," Kiros replied.
"Good luck, then." Laguna reached into the pocket of his jacket and produced a sealed envelope. He set it on the table. Kiros made no move to retrieve it.
"What is that?"
"That is a letter expressing my desire to resign from the presidency. It also endorses you as my successor. What you do with it is up to you."
"If this is some kind of ultimatum—"
"It isn't," Laguna replied. "It's up to you if you want to use it. If I don't come back, it won't matter. If I do, the decision is yours. I know you'll do what you feel is best."
Kiros nodded and Laguna started for the stairs. Halfway up, he turned and looked at his old friend.
"I just wish you could see that I'm doing the same thing."
Laguna walked through the streets of Galbadia City. The air smelled sweet and clean, washed by a storm that had blown out to sea, heading for Balamb. Laguna felt twenty years younger. Free. Unburdened by the cares of the presidency for the first time in decades.
Words rang in Laguna's ears: "What more could anyone want?" The voice didn't belong to Kiros, though. It belonged to Laguna, and he had spoken those words before ever coming to Esthar.
"A lovely wife, a home in a great town, little Elle. What more could anyone want? It's like a dream come true, do you think?" he asked, turning to look at the beautiful woman across from him, radiant in her wedding dress.
She didn't reply, not out loud at least. Instead, she smiled that strange, sad smile that made Laguna ache with longing.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, rushing to her side. Putting his arm around her.
"Nothing," she murmured. "Just... remembering something I once heard someone say in the bar. I don't even know who it was, but it always stuck with me."
"What did they say?" he cocked his head.
"They said, 'when dreams come true, they don't come free.'"
"What a strange thing to think about on your wedding day," he said, caressing her face with one hand. She kissed his hand gently and fell back on the bed, pulling him with her.
It had taken years before Laguna finally understood what Raine meant. His dreams had come true – he'd rescued Ellone. He'd liberated Esthar from Adel. But at what price? Missing the death of his wife and his son's entire childhood. He'd burnt bridges without even knowing he'd crossed them.
This time, at least, he saw the bridge in advance. He might have just thrown away his political career, to say nothing of his friendship with Kiros.
He looked up to the sky, searching the stars. "Tell me I'm doing the right thing, Raine," he whispered. The wind picked up, blowing against him, gliding past his face and mussing his hair. When he opened his eyes, he saw the sign he needed: a perfect white feather, as from a swan, sitting on the ground, untouched by wind or the departed storm.
He smiled and knelt down, picking up the feather and placing it in his jacket pocket, in the spot once occupied by his letter of resignation.
"Good enough for me."
The Discovery hurtled through the sky, propelled, it seemed, as much by the force of Selphie's rage as by its own engines.
"There you are," she hissed as the wreckage of the Missile Base rose on the horizon. She turned the controls, banking the ship to one side as she set it down in the spot Xu had picked for landing.
The group gathered their gear and prepared to disembark. As the gangplank lowered, Selphie gasped in surprise, startled to see someone waiting for them outside the ship.
"Sir Laguna?" Selphie shrieked, voice climbing to a near-inaudible pitch.
"Hi," he grinned, machine gun resting over one shoulder. "You guys feel like blowing up some ships?"