Disclaimer: I do not own the song used in this chapter. I'm not sure what it's called, by do know it's owned by Yoko Kanno.

And I listen for the whisper

Of your sweet insanity

While I formulate denials

Of your effect on me

- "A Stranger" by Perfect Circle

Chapter 3

"This is the path we chose to walk. There's no going back now. Will you walk with me?"

Thunder rumbled softly in the distance, an ominous sound that told a tale of pain and anguish, of anger and other black emotions that settled on the horizon, slowly drifting closer to blanket their formerly safe world. It wouldn't occur to him until later that the safety he knew so well was just an illusion, a glossy façade made to hide the terrible truth that lurked underneath.

He awoke to the sound of a car engine late in the night, something that was foreign to him, as they rarely had visitors to their happy little home. His eyes fluttered open, blinding light flooding his small room as the headlights shone through his window and illuminated that which was previously hidden in shadows. Through the crack in his door, he could see his father and mother standing in the hall, facing each other with an expression he had never seen of their faces before. They were terrified.

"I... what are you planning to do?" his mother asked, wringing her hands in desperation as she stared into her husband's eyes. "Who knows how many there are? We don't stand a chance against them, we have to run!"

"They'll just keep hunting us," he replied, tightening his grip on the riffle in his arms. "There's nowhere left to run. Hide the kids. I'm going to face them."

Her fragile hands locked onto her husband's arm, tears beginning to stream down the delicate curves of her face. He wanted to call to her then, ask her not to cry, but the slamming of four car doors kept him curled up in his bed, trembling wildly with fear of the unknown, terrified all the more because he didn't understand what was going on. Instead he could only watch as she leaned against his father's back and whispered something in his ear. His father's shoulders instantly went rigid and he pulled away from her.

"If you won't walk with me," he said softly, not bothering to turn around, "then I'll walk alone."

"Wait, Laguna, please!" she pleaded, but he kept walking away from her, as if she hadn't spoken a word. She glanced through the crack in the door, then back at the retreating form of the man she loved, before rushing into the room with an anguished cry. "Squall, get up, come with me. Don't be afraid, okay."

"What's going on?" he asked, his tiny voice shaking despite his best efforts to be brave.

She didn't answer as she yanked open the door to his sister's room and called for her, unable to come up with the right words, despite the frantic search of her mind. Everything was happening so fast...

She paused in front of the door to her room, the vent at the bottom of the wall catching her attention. She ran for it, dropping to her knees and pulling off the grating as soon as she came to it. There was a small space, only small enough for her youngest child there, a space where her husband kept the weapons stashed. She pulled the riffles, pistols, revolvers, and boxes of ammo out, shoving them under the bed before she turned to her son, who stood watching her with a confused and frightened look that tore at her heart.

"I'll have to leave you," she whispered, barely holding back her own tears. "But only for a little while. You'll have to stay here, don't make a sound." She helped him crawl into the opening, then forced a smile as he turned back to stare at her, eyes glassy and forlorn. "Squall, if anything happens, I want you to remember something. It's never too late to change the path you walk."

With that last bit of advice and a whispered 'I love you' she pushed the metal vent back into place and hurried off to hide her daughter. He would never see her again...

The chain link rattled behind his back and the iron tracks above him wailed as a train went rushing by. He hated this place. Every time he was deep in thought, lost to memories of the past, a train would pass overhead and shake him from his reverie. He halfway suspected that Seifer chose that spot for that very reason. He knew how much Squall hated to be kept from diving deeper into the recesses of his mind.

"I can always tell when you're thinking about it," a voice came from behind him. "It's like you lose all sense of reality. You didn't even realize I was here. It's like all the instincts Cid trained you to have just go out the window."

"Shut up, Seifer."

The blonde chuckled. "So you got my message yesterday, right?"

"Yes."

"One of them just stepped right out in front of me... I guess she thought I wouldn't recognize her. Foolish on their part, but it seems that they're in deeper than we are. She said she was head of the palace guard. I'm not sure how much truth there is to that, but she did manage to get access to a restricted hallway."

"I take it that's where you ran into her? If you got access to that restricted hall, what's to stop her from doing the same? What were you doing jeopardizing your mission, anyway?"

"She was wearing the uniform of the head guard, though I guess she could have stolen it. Anyway, I was trying to help you out, you jackass. I found out where the blueprints are, but there's no way I'm going to risk my job a second time to get them."

"I've still got a month," Squall replied.

"You'll need it, I'm sure. Anyway, I just thought I'd tell you to watch out. With Balamb here you can't trust anyone. Watch your back." Seifer walked away with that, leaving Squall to his thoughts once more.

Can't trust anyone... Rinoa could be one of them... Could that be why she was so interested in me?

His heart beat faster at the thought of her, involuntarily. He had walked her to the hotel the day before, and excused himself from her presence, hoping that he could retreat to the safety of his room once he was away from her, and the hold she had on him was broken. She had only smiled and nodded, quickly running down the steps to the bar below and out of his sight.

Thinking he would be safe then, he stood at the front desk, checking to see if Seifer had sent anymore messages. It was then that he heard it, the beginning of a sweet and simple melody that he had heard once before. Her voice followed, soft but strong, somewhat quiet, yet expressing a million emotions in a single word. With one song she weaved a spell over his mind, drawing him closer to the staircase until he could just barely see her down below.

My love for you

Burns deep inside of me

So strong

Embers of times we had

And now, here I stand

Lost in our memory

I see your face

And smile

Her back was turned to the stairs, and he decided that if he acted quickly enough, she might not see him sneak down. He sought out a shadowed corner of the room and seated himself at an empty booth on the other side of the bar, where she couldn't see him, but he could hear her. Every word she sang ensnared him until he knew he couldn't leave, not even if he wanted to. With every note that escaped her lips, he felt like she was calling to him, singing to him and only him, though she didn't even know he was there.

It was intoxicating, like drinking a whole bottle of wine. The longer he listened to her, the more his thoughts blurred and the further away his unhappy memories seemed. Was it possible this woman could chase away that ghost that walked at his side in the daylight, or plagued his nightmares in the world of the dreaming?

As she finished up her last song, he shook away the useless pondering. Of course she would never be able to do that. Nothing would ease the burden he carried aside from Caraway's death. Still, that he even thought that to begin with made him weary of the woman and the affect she had on him. If it was true that she was with Balamb, that would make her his toughest enemy yet.

But if he had to die, he thought to himself as he walked back to the hotel the next day, he could think of no one more suiting than her to be his Angel of Death.

Petal after petal, they floated upon the gentle breeze until they were carried to the water below. There the tiny pink dots would delicately caress the pond beneath the bridge, vivid color against the plain gray of the sky, reflected by the rippling water.

She didn't bother to recite the chant that usually accompanied the activity...

He loves me, he loves me not... It doesn't seem like he's capable of love at all...

But stood silently, picking one silky petal after another from its home and sending it on a journey in the wind. Flowers from him meant nothing. She received the same kind on the same day at the same time every week. It wasn't that he was thoughtful, or even that he was a creature of habit, but rather, it was because he had scheduled one of his servants to buy them every week and deliver them to her dressing room. She supposed it was his perpetual apology for being too busy to ever come see her, but after the first couple of weeks, it had lost its meaning.

He was quite the fickle one. One moment, he seemed to be a helpless romantic, and the next, he seemed so far away from her that she worried she might never reach him again. It was very different from the feeling she got from her mysterious stranger. She never worried that when she reached out to touch him, he wouldn't be real. He was not so close to her to be so distant, and it held a strange kind of security.

She leaned her elbows on the stone railing, her back to the hotel where she would later perform. A smile curved her lips upward as she caught sight of a familiar reflection, slowly making his way across the bridge, looking at her, but trying not to look obvious about it. She dropped the last few petals into the water, watching his image distort before turning to face him.

"Hi Squall," she greeted cheerfully. He turned away, albeit hesitantly, and made his way for the door. Shaking her head, she ran to catch up, no easy feat in her high heels, and stood in front of the door before he could open it. "You're not going anywhere until you talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about. Just move."

She frowned, noticing how he refused to meet her eyes. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing! Just go away!" he barked.

She jumped slightly at his harsh tone, but refused to move. "So... I take it you didn't like the show last night?"

A frosty gaze met with hers, his eyes widened in surprise. "How did... I mean... I..."

"I saw you sneak in out of the corner of my eyes," she giggled. "I'm glad you came. But I'm sorry if you didn't enjoy yourself."

"It wasn't," he began, but cut himself off with a sigh. "Look, Rinoa, just move. I've got things to get done." She didn't move, just stood there and continued to smile at him. He was trapped within her eyes, and it wasn't until he heard something crinkle in her hands that he was able to look away. "What are those?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"They used to be flowers," she replied, fingering the long green stems. "I thought maybe the petals were tired of being held down by their stems, so I set them free." He arched an eyebrow at her, and she couldn't help but laugh. "Would you buy me flowers if I were your girlfriend, Squall?" she asked innocently.

"No."

"You'd make a great boyfriend," she replied with sincerity.

"Whatever. Look, you're blocking the door. You're going to make people angry doing that."

"Am I making you angry?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed, exasperated.

She giggled again. "So you are capable of emotion, huh? I feel blessed to have seen it. Must be a very rare occurrence."

"I didn't ask you for your opinion on it!" he growled, rubbing his eyes. Seifer's words were still ringing in his mind, and at the moment, he wanted nothing more than to get away from this woman so he could collect his thoughts. "Why are you showing up every where I am, anyway?"

She shook her head. "Seems to me you're the one that ran into me this time."

"You knew I would come here. You knew I was staying here," he accused.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, and I suppose you get crazy women stalking you so often that there's no way it could just be coincidence that we met before. Especially seeing as how I took up a job singing here a good year or so before I met you, knowing you would check in here eventually, because I'm psychic, right? Don't flatter yourself."

"Whatever, I don't care! Just move out of my way."

"Not until you apologize."

"I have nothing to apologize for. Stop being an annoying bitch and just move out of the fucking way!" he bit out, quickly growing tired of her games.

She smiled, though the glint of pain hiding behind her eyes still burned with such intensity that he didn't think his mind would ever shake away the memory of it. "You're always getting so angry, so annoyed with me... It's part of you personality, it won't change, will it?"

"What kind of question is that?" he sighed, the fervor that fueled his temper dying out almost as quickly as it had sprung upon him. Never in his life had anyone made him feel so bi-polar, perfectly tranquil one minute, and raging inside the next.

She didn't speak, but allowed her lips to curve into a knowing smile. He was so very predictable in the way he spoke to her, and yet... So unpredictable in the things he does. I never expected him to give in and walk me to the hotel, and certainly not to come watch me sing. It's like there's a whole different side to him that he refuses to let show...

"Stop... staring at me like that," he grumbled, resisting the urge to squirm beneath the hold and endless depth of her dark eyes.

"Is that nervousness I sense? From you?" She giggled again, though his expression only grew darker at the accusation. "Everything here is always the same, but you... You keep surprising me." She glanced at her watch. "I have five minutes until my performance, and I'm sure after all this, you won't be coming down and watching me, so I'll see you later, Squall. Don't change on me... but don't be afraid to grow."

With those words, so cryptic to his mind, she entered the door and slipped into the hotel. He watched her for a moment and noted with slight interest that not a single person had approached the door when she stood in front of it, but as soon as she walked away from it a stream of people began to file in and out.

Shrugging it off, he followed suit and entered the lobby as well, hesitating in the middle of the room. After a quick glance at both possible destinations, he strode over to the stair banister and leaned on the smooth marble surface. No, he wouldn't come down, she was half-right... but...

She resisted the urge to giggle as she sat down at the piano and spotted his small reflection in her glass of water. Something different, she thought. I was half-wrong for once.