Chapter 2 – Once a Trepie, always a Trepie II

"You…don't…havetobe rich! To be mah gurl!" Seifer's unmistakable voice rang out from the midst of the foliage of the Training Centre, coupled with the sharp swings of his weapon and the subsequent squishes as the blade met its intended victim and sliced it into quarters. The unfortunate Grat's body was equally divided, falling apart like a crimson-fleshed grapefruit ready for serving on the fruit platter. Only this was a rather repulsive grapefruit that no human in his or her right mind would ever dream of eating. Its gooey blood spurted as if it had been sqeezed by an invisible pair of hands for juice extraction. It's feelers twitched sporadically in time with the mournful squeal in protest of its terrible end.

"You…don't…havetobe cool! To rule mah world!" With yet another triumphant series of slashes he demonstrated just how jubilant he was feeling right then. Oh yes. Life was good for Seifer and he wanted the whole world, or at least the entire population of the Training Centre to know it. And feel it.

By the time he had finished the chorus of the song, the surrounding air was permeated with a heavy mist of Grat blood. Grat carcasses littered the ground within an eight-metre radius around him.

Except for the blond man's loud and—sorry to say—horrible singing, the entire Training Centre was quiet. Even the usual background vocals consisting of the Nocturnal Creatures Symphonic Choir was absent this particular night.

To a person sensitive to certain beliefs, it would have been a strange thing indeed, but Seifer usually pooh-poohed such "groundless bullshit".

It was funny how his opinions coincided with another golden-haired person.

In any case, even as the most zealous SeeDs and Cadets were playing it safe by remaining indoors after midnight. Seifer, in a show of defiance against the "groundless bullshit", had been out and about, specially dropping by Trepe's room to make it known to someone, anyone, that HE, SEIFER ALMASY WAS AFRAID OF NOTHING. AND TREPE JUST HAPPENED TO BE THE ONLY ONE WHO COULD POSSIBLY BE UP AT SUCH AN UNGODLY HOUR.

Oh… Who was he kidding? Not even his perpetual excuse-fabricating side believed that.

He dropped by to see if he could experience again the high that would only appear when Trepe's annoyance enhanced her pretty features, in response to him, and only him.

Talk about the ultimate ego trip.

"Lalala…uh huh uh huh…" He nodded to some internal rhythm, strolling through the Training Centre while looking for more monsters to slaughter. But unlike him, the T-Rexes and Grats—except for the initial stupid few—were smart enough to avoid a threat when they sensed one.

Not the threat of oiling Seifer's blade with their blood, of course.

But another, of which's concealed nature made it all the more dangerous.

"Come on, you sons-of-Grat-andTrex-bitches! Face your greatest fear! MUAHAHAHAH!"

Seifer swiveled around. Still not a mosquito appeared. Not even with his hawk vision could he spot a smallest ruffle of the grass or leaves on the trees that would indicate a living, breathing existence near him.

But then he heard it.

That sound was indistinct at first. But it grew. Like fear does at the most inopportune times.

Seifer wheeled around, trying to find the source, his heart thumping so hard no matter how he tried to curb it.

FLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAP!

He felt something stinging against his neck, and slapped a hand against it.

The skin of his hand brushed against a…thing he could not identify.

Uncountable goose bumps sprouted all over his skin like fungi in a forest after a rainy day. Seifer drew his coat quickly around him, overcame by a sudden attack of shivers.

The sensation was like… someone had used a feather and ran the flimsy tips lightly against the marrow of his bones, and in the inner walls of his heart and veins.

"What the…? Is there something wrong with the air-conditioning?" He scrunched his face, slowly turning to look at his shoulders, where he felt the thing had moved from his neck to the shoulder.

"AARGH! SHIT WHAT THE HELL?" He yelled, as the mental picture of a humongous human-sized moth perching on his shoulder attacked his mind. But after several blinks, he saw that its actual size was only half of his palm. Feeling ridiculous for yelling at nothing, he brushed it away savagely, muttering a long string of curses at the moth.

But somehow, it refused to budge, no matter how he brushed against it.

Seifer DID NOT like the feel of its wings against his hand. So instead, he picked it up by the wings and flung it onto the ground. With a twisted smirk, he crushed the moth under his boot until he was certain it had become a paste on the ground. Moving his boot away, his smirk turned into a satisfied grin watching the moth's wings twitch helplessly, before stilling completely.

It was only when drops of sweat dripped off his nose and formed darker spots on the dusty ground that he realized how… spooked he had been by the moth.

"Bah! I'm just tired. Hahahah!" He pivoted on his heel, preparing to leave the Training Centre.

The Nocturnal Creatures Symphonic Choir chose to release their vocals in full force then.

High-pitched squeals, squawks, low-rumbling growls belonging to the normally ferocious-but-now-pissing-in-dragon-leather-scared T-Rexes, and even the whipping of tree branches as an accompaniment came to an ear-piercing crescendo, as if they had been reserving their strength for this precise moment. Only it was a primal type of cry from nature that could only result from instinct—a cry of pure terror.

Seifer narrowed his eyes, turning back to find the source of the ruckus.

He was greeted full-faced by a dark cloud-like structure shaped like a giant moth, very similar to the one he had imagined before crushing the moth under his feet. It dived straight for him like angry bees stinging the life out of a sticky-handed honey thief.

"Get off of me!" He yelled, swiping at his face, his hands, his body, even using Hyperion to swing at them but they were everywhere, stinging him and seemingly trying to suck the energy, no, the life-force out of him.

"What are these things, fucking vampires?" He yelled, still swiping at them with miserable results.

One curiously deformed one that looked like a truck had run over its face flew into his ear.

The pain… was unbearable.

He wanted to scream until his throat was hoarse and bleeding. It was bad. It was even worse than the time he was subjected to Squall's Ultimate limit break. Not many could survive that without waking up in the middle of sleep with nightmares, but he did. But this was worse, he didn't know why, but it was as if all the nerve endings in his body were centered upon his eardrum and a cup of molten lava had been poured straight into his ear.

The worst thing was, he could not scream. He was scared; the moths might just fly into his mouth and attack all his internal organs. He even felt his stomach give an excruciating twist… oh man he was fucking done for…

The last thing Seifer remembered before blackness overtaking him… was the incessant sound of flapping.

FLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAP!


"Why the fuck are you doing this?" Seifer yelled, eyes tightly shut while his hands cupped his ears to prevent yet another recurrence of his eardrums being skewered.

FLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAP! The flattened one hovered close to his line of vision. Seifer could sense waves of hate aura emitting off it.

"So I crushed you, big fucking deal! You're up and flying now aren't you?" He felt ridiculous talking to the moth.

Return to me… He seemed to pick up some words in between the flapping.

RETURN MY LIFE! REVENGE FOR TAKING MY LIFE! The words were startlingly clear now.

"What are you…"

PAY FOR YOUR SLAUGHTER! PAY FOR TAKING OUR LIVES! PAY SEIFER ALMASY MUST PAY! PAY PAY PAY PAY PAY PAY!

PAY!FUCKINGPAY!


"No! GET THEM OFF ME! NO NO! NO!"

He screamed, struggling and flailing off invisible creatures in the air even as his brain had yet awakened from unconsciousness.

"Seifer!" Quistis tried to slap him awake, the sounds of her palms against his cheek crisp and loud in the medicinal air of the infirmary.

This was the first time she had seen him so… vulnerable. Screaming out for help was definitely the last thing she would associate with him.

The painful squeeze of five fingers on her hand brought Quistis' attention back to the thrashing man.

"Stop them… help me stop them…" He pleaded.

Seifer Almasy never pleaded with anyone. He was obviously still within the throes of his internal hell.

"Shh… it's over." Quistis said, placing a cool hand on his forehead. "Go to sleep."

With that, she seemed to have chased his demons away, for rhythmic snores replaced his distressed yells and incessant mumbling to make way for restful sleep.


One hour later

Seifer's eyes shot open. He gazed at the ceiling as if a blown-up poster of the Girl-Next-Door naked pinup of the month had been pasted on it.

"Seifer! You're awake at last!" Quistis sighed, her strung-up nerves suddenly loosened and brought a curious, sour sensation to her nose.

His eyes darted from the ceiling to her face.

"Instructor Trepe…" He said in an impossibly tender tone to her. "I…" His blue eyes brimmed full of tears.

"Seifer?" Quistis stared at him, alarmed, and fearing that perhaps he had hurt his head too.

He simply shook his head and lowered it shyly, gathering a bunch of his blanket in his hands as he did.

Quistis noticed that his expression and actions seemed a little effeminate.

"Seifer?" She asked again, this time with a hint of 'are-you-really-Seifer?' suspicion in her tone.

"Not… Seifer." 'He' replied, shaking 'his' head sadly.

"Wha…? Seifer knock it off!" Quistis said sternly. "If this is your idea of a joke I'm not laughing!"

'Seifer' furrowed 'his' brow, bit on 'his' lip and blinked, prompting another line of tears to run down 'his' cheeks

"What do I have to do… to make you believe?" 'He' stared up at Quistis, 'his' eyes so unbelievably soulful that Quistis started to think that this could not be Seifer.

Looking around, 'he' spotted a piece of square paper, and placing it on the table, started folding it with nimble movements.

Quistis knew what it was even before it was fully formed.

"What?" She looked uncertainly at the crane, then back at 'him' again.

"Origami Crane. Same as the one I gave you before." 'He' smiled sorrowfully. "I know you have not forgotten, Instructor Trepe."

I will always be your Trepie, Instructor Trepe…

"But…it can't be…" Quistis raised a hand to her mouth.

Nobody else knew about the crane.

Nobody except her… and that girl Trepie.

"Instructor Trepe… it is me…"

Quistis turned her gaze back to the chiseled face, but the image that rose to greet her and capture her mind… was that Trepie's!

"Lynn?" She ventured uncertainly.

The blonde head nodded, still with that sad smile that looked so incompatible on Seifer's face.

"But… why are you in his body?" Quistis creased an eyebrow, a hint of disapproval in her words. "You're not supposed to possess anyone! It's dangerous!"

"…To make him understand."

"Understand?"

"Fear. Terror." 'He' made a gritting sound with 'his' teeth. "The terror we felt when he killed us."

"But he was under influence…"

"Weakness is no excuse for his deeds. Do our deaths not matter, just because he wasn't following his own will? His weakness!" 'He' paused, blood trickling from a corner of 'his' mouth as 'he' had apparently bitten on it while speaking. "If not for his weakness, we'd all be still alive today! I WOULD STILL BE YOUR TREPIE!"

"What do you want him to do then?"

"…Don't know."

"I think he has already understood whatever you wanted him to feel." Quistis gazed intensely into 'his' eyes, trying to get at her. 'He' avoided her glance, unable to find a reply that 'he' felt would satisfy Quistis.

"Lynn… I know it's hard. But you have to let it go." Quistis placed a hand over his. "Release yourself from suffering. You belong to a better place, the place that Hyne has reserved for you by her side."

"But Instructor Trepe… I…" 'He' shook 'his' head. "…wanna be with you… always."

"There is no always in Hyne's Great Plan." Quistis ruffled the spiky blond hair, imagining that it was the girl's head.

"I understand…" 'He' sniffled and took in a deep breath. "..just one final request?"

"Whatever you want." Quistis replied softly, mirroring the soft smile on Seifer's face.

"Help me… close my eyes this time?" 'He' blinked rapidly, and at last looked up at her with beads of tears rolling around the rims of 'his' eyes.

"Okay…" Quistis whispered, forcing the lump in her throat back and placed 'his' head on her lap, cradling it preciously.

"Instructor Trepe…" 'His' voice was nearly inaudible. She had to bend down near to 'his' mouth to discern what 'he' had said.

"……." 'His' mouth moved, while Quistis' eyes shot wide open in response, her eyebrows raised to heaven.

"WHAT?" She exclaimed incredulously.

"Goodbye Instructor Trepe… I am still always your Trepie…"

With a serene smile, Seifer's mouth remained closed, and even if his eyes were still wide open, he was evidently sleeping as the deep rumbling snores told Quistis.

"Goodbye." Quistis murmured, placing a hand over his eyes and pushing his lids down.

And this time, they remained shut for a long time.


Seifer suffered from high fever for forty-eight hours. He came out of the ordeal a changed man.

For one thing, he had a morbid phobia of moths, in particularly black ones. He could sometimes be seen swatting in the air, and no longer teased Zell for swatting flies since he was doing it even more often than him.

Miraculously though, his hearing did not seem to sustain any permanent damage, except when moths were around, and he would scream as if in some internal pain.

Everyone decided that they liked the new Seifer much more.

Especially Quistis.


"Seifer is your biggest Trepie…heehee!"


Well that's all for this chapter. I hope you liked it! I would like to thank all my reviewers in great detail, but apparently we're not supposed to reply to reviewers in our fics or the fic risks getting deleted. Forgive me! I would rather not chance that!

Anyways, disclaimers:

The song Kiss is obviously not mine.

Same applies to the characters in FF8.

That's it. I am trying to keep my author's note to the minimum. Perhaps one day when I'm particularly free I will email each of you with profuse thanks but… please don't expect it any time soon.

Cheers,

Lily