-1 week later-
I guess people rarely expect to hear that Squall Leonhart is failing his mission. Hyne, I've had enough problems admitting it to myself. I've stayed here, in this secluded little den of chaos, for the last six days yet I've come up with nothing. For all I thought that this mission would be easy, it turns out that Ultimecia was a walk in the park in comparison. Still, it doesn't seem to have been a week entirely wasted, not if I'm going to be selfish. I'm feeling better in my own head, less tired and more focussed and yet somehow more relaxed. I guess I never realised that I could be calmly on my guard before, instead of all strung up and tensely questioning everything. That's Seifer's doing. It's been an odd, but not unpleasant six days. In some ways, old times have been revisited; he still spends every waking minute trying to get a rise out of me but we laugh about it. I find amusement in the uptight, moody bastard I used to be. That's how we're creating new times together. He's not teaching me to get rid of my faults or to be ashamed of them, but to laugh at them. It's easier to forget about them that way as I'm not harbouring bad feelings about them. Seifer, to be honest, is the same as he ever was; confrontational, hot-headed and irrational, but I feel more comfortable dealing with him than I used to. I was never scared of him before, not really, but I did feel intimidated by him and that's now gone. I just let him do his own thing and watch him calm down afterwards. I think it's much easier for both of us. That said, he has been slightly more exaggerated in these characteristics than he was before the war. He's angrier, more confused and even more argumentative. He'll fly off the handle at the slightest provocation and sometimes for no reason at all, and I know that his paranoia is desperately trying to keep a secret from me. However friendly we've been over the last week, I'm still the enemy and he can't forget that.
What happened a few nights ago was a perfect example. It was evening and we'd not eaten all day. Neither of us could be bothered to cook, and besides, Seifer had barely anything worth the effort in his fridge. I'd called for a meal from a Chinese takeaway restaurant not two blocks from the apartment, and as they weren't doing deliveries that night, I offered to go and collect it. I figured that Seifer would probably end up in even more trouble venturing out into the busy night streets by confronting a vengeful, hungry population. I know that I wasn't supposed to leave him alone. Still, I figured that we have to balance the mission with our daily lives; being realistic, I can't let us both go hungry just so that I can monitor Seifer 24/7. I observe him every day for as long as I possibly can.. I mean, I can't watch him when I'm asleep, so a compromise has to be found at some point. I was only ever going to be five minutes away, not long enough for him to try anything. Of course, I soon discovered that however impractical my orders were, they were right. When I returned to the apartment, laden with hot, sticky plastic bags, Seifer had slammed down the receiver on the home phone in a flash as he sensed my presence. I stalled in the doorway watching him. Sure, it could have been a friend of his, but I knew all too well that he's a fairly unpopular guy in this city. The idea of him getting social calls was unlikely to say the least. A prank call might have been more convincing but for the look of guilt that swarmed his features and the surge of rage that flew to his eyes at my interruption. Then followed a flurry of furious words, all aimed at me; accusations of violation of privacy, of victimisation and my monitoring him, and claims that I was rude and disrespectful. The short of it was that if I ever walked in on his phone calls again, I would no longer be welcome in the flat. It was strange behaviour, at the very least and downright suspicious to boot. It made me even more certain that he was plotting something and that he didn't want me to discover it.
Apart from the professional hassles, it's been fun being with him again. My life, -much as I hate to admit it-, becomes dreary without his influence and I was glad of his company again, as much as I tried to proclaim otherwise. I'm still not ready to talk to him about how I feel, nor am I sure I ever will be. For now, I think it's safer to keep everything under wraps, just as he's doing. Then we can live in mutual disguise and dishonesty and we'll both be happily removed from one another. It's clear to me that I have to figure out something, though. Quistis is probably having a fit back in Garden over my silent absence, as I haven't updated her since I left. I've just been so busy fathoming Seifer out again that I suppose I forgot about my other world. There's something about him that makes me forget everyone else on the planet, but I know that it can't last. I have a job to do and soon, I'll have to get back to her with something concrete. Somehow, I doubt I can file a report explaining how Seifer walking around his apartment half-naked makes me hard and how much I want to jump him when he's asleep and get away with it, Squall Leonhart or not. No, I'm going to have to get my hands on some proper evidence and it really has to start with one person; Rinoa.
I don't know if I'd have thought of her at all, had Seifer not pushed so hard to find out about her life. I mean, she wasn't an obvious lead in this until he brought up the subject of her boyfriend, raging and fuming all over the shop. At first, I thought it was the typical jealousy act. When he was with Rinoa that summer before the War, he didn't love her but he came pretty close. He was there at the SeeD ball, under the pretence of helping the Forest Owls, trying to win her back. He told me that it cut him up seeing us dancing together, her so fluid in that beautiful, ivory number. I can see why he wanted her back, why his passion was so strong for her even if I didn't feel the same way. I remember not being able to understand why I couldn't fall for her; those doe eyes and the addictive, headstrong nature. When Seifer talked about her current flame, I just assumed he was angry at himself for letting her slip through his fingers so that another man could get his paws on her. It was only when I realised that he was going to extremes, -his voice so loud the walls trembled with its volume- that I began to look beyond the obvious. He stormed about for hours asking question after question; how close was the guy to her, did she see him often, were they in love, had they slept together? I stared at him blankly, fascinated by this red-hot whirlwind of energy, this fiery storm cloud. Eventually, he ran out of words and slumped down in the chair, dejected and irritated. I told him that I didn't know much and asked the origin of his fury. There was no answer, only a series of sighs followed by the firm declaration,
"But she is mine."
Only then did I think to question his speaking of Rinoa. I observed him with a few girls during our childhood, but only one ever summoned such a bold, binding statement from his lips; Edea, Ultimecia. His Sorceress. He spoke of Rinoa like he was a Knight again and alarm bells immediately sounded within me. Perhaps the assumption was simply me clutching at straws or my own urgent need to report back to Balamb-G, but the control freak in me wouldn't let the idea go. I consoled myself in the notion that it was too dangerous not to follow it up, Rinoa being a Sorceress and all, but inside it was probably more like brotherly protection that made me so antsy about the situation. I wasn't sure I liked the idea of Seifer serving Rinoa and when I contacted her, I discovered that Quistis felt the exact same way. Sort of.
"You cannot be serious." She says, deadpan. "First of all, and I'll gloss over your first misdemeanour, you neglect your duties for almost a week and leave me hanging. You abandoned me to try and keep negotiations going with two Gardens when you hadn't given me a single card to play! It was downright irresponsible Squall, but more than that, it was hurtful. You know I'm in a difficult position."
Before I can speak to defend myself or reassure her singed nerves, she has already moved on, "And then, when you do call, you come up with this insane idea that a member of our own group is the one behind it!"
"Quistis, please. This isn't helping anything. I've told you where I was and what I was doing and since my work was for the mission, I can't see that you've that much to complain about. I know I put you in a difficult situation but that is your job, that's what you fucking signed up for. I'd appreciate it if you'd keep an open mind about my job, given that I've been directly observing the subject for a week." I try to keep my voice level, but I can feel a headache starting.
"You have to expect that I'll be shocked, Squall. Accusing Rinoa, even for you, is downright traitorous."
"I never accused Rinoa. What I believe is that Seifer looks upon Rinoa as a Sorceress and seeing as we've had the reports that he's a Knight again, she'll have to be questioned. It's possible that she doesn't know about any of it, that her signals are being sent out unconsciously, or the whole thing might be just Seifer's intentions. Okay, it could also all turn out to be all my own imagination, but Quistis, how many times have you known me make a stupid error?"
"There's a first time for everything." She comments grouchily before relenting. "Alright, so you think he may be targeting her and she's the innocent party. I really doubt she'd do something like this deliberately, so you're probably right there. I'm not happy about the fact that this whole hypothesis is completely unsupported, but I suppose there's nothing that can be done about that. I just wish you'd told me sooner, Squall."
"I know." I say softly and genuinely I apologise. I guess sometimes we rub each other up the wrong way and she shouldn't take the cop for that from me. "She'll need questioned, all the same. I really think we're onto something here."
"I'll see it done. I have to say, though," She points out, audibly suppressing a yawn as she does so, "If you're right, I'll be intrigued to know just how he managed to respond to her call for a Knight, if she already has one."
With that, the phone clicks off and I am left staring at it, the words only just sinking in. I cannot believe that I failed to think of that sooner; how can Rinoa summon him if she already has me? Can a Sorceress have two Knights? Surely if the function of a Knight is to ground his Sorceress, then I should be sufficient? Quistis' remark was probably a barb about my inconsistency as Rinoa's Knight; I know she isn't happy with my rarely being present with Rinoa or our reliance telepathic communications, but the comment has made me think. Either there's something special about Rinoa's powers that gives her the ability to multi-summon, or Seifer's lying. I almost hope that Rinoa is his intended Sorceress; that way, the end to this disaster is clear, and I can go back home and forget Seifer Almasy and his flirtatious temptation ever existed.
---
Slowly, I traipse back into the apartment from the hallway; the only space in which it's possible to make a private phone call. Seifer's apartment is tiny to say the least; one bedroom, kitchen, living room and bathroom all placed alongside one another and accessed from the main, narrow corridor. Each of the four rooms feels like a cell in a prison, the doors like bars against a corridor on which only guards can walk. I somehow feel that it's a deliberate layout. Pausing at the first door on the left, -the kitchen-, I am stalled by the view of him. He sits at the small table at the far end of the room; a little circular thing with one wobbly leg. It is covered with papers strewn with his blue handwriting. Something dreadful begins to settle in my stomach. I can only have been away ten minutes or so, but what if I have missed something? Whether this mission looks simple or not, these papers look ominous and I start to think that I've been complacent. Mentally kicking myself, I try to gauge what it is that he's doing. Concentrating would be my first answer; a deep frown set on his face as he studies the sheets before him. His eyes are steady, firm and serious; that look he used to have when he and Hyperion were practising. It almost makes me smile. Then I notice the glasses, ones I've neither seen him wear nor known any reason for it. Seifer's eyes have always been perfect, as far as I'm aware. The frames are discreet, a light shade of titanium, but they look odd on his face all the same. I am not used to it and it unnerves me. As his character has changed since the War, so has his appearance and I don't like it.
He looks up gradually, jade eyes glittering with some kind of accomplishment. I only feel more nervous at the look on his face, knowing that I've somehow screwed up royally by watching him. I should have known not to take Seifer Almasy for granted, no matter what else I take him for.
"Squall." He says, voice rough yet not threatening. He seems pleased to see me. It is strange, considering I have crept up on him and intruded upon his business, as for the most part of the last week, he has shouted at me for these things. Now he smiles pleasantly and invitingly. I don't trust it.
"Seifer. What you doing?" I try to keep my voice light and unassuming, to gain access to these privacies gently rather than to alarm him or cause him to fly into yet another temper. Of course, he knows that I'm playing dumb.
"What does it look like, Leonhart?" He says playfully, shuffling a few A4 sheets. "I presume you have seen paperwork before, given that you're the..." He stalls for a moment, trying to remember my job title. "Ah well," He concedes, with a wave of his hand. "You're the Seify-spy, anyhow."
"I'm the Foreign Affairs Ambassador, Seif." I point out gently, stepping towards him timidly so that he will not be wildly provoked. I'm starting to learn how to handle the new Seifer, which almost feels like compensation for the old one that I ignored so brutally.
"Same thing to me." He admits with a grin, beckoning me closer with one finger. "I know that I'm the victim and you're the big, bad investigator just trying to get a sneaky peek into my life. Poor little me, so defenceless, so vulnerable..." He chuckles. "You're a bad boy."
I try very hard to ignore the enticing note to his tone and swallow harshly, staring at him. After I feel capable of speaking again, I say hoarsely,
"Seifer, I'm not a spy. I'm just here to look out for you, I've told you. There's no need to mock me."
"Mocking? Why do you accuse me thus?" He smirks, raising one eyebrow at his own feigned haughtiness. "I'm not mocking, you idiot. I was merely joking with you. Though I shouldn't, because facts are facts. You are spying on me, Leonhart, but you won't get a glimpse of what you're looking for. Not a single bit of flesh." He rests back on his chair, looking at me with challenge in his expression. It's the knowledge that his lustful taunts are getting to me, he's realising that I want him. I resist the urge to run away, relying on old skills to look blankly at him before continuing in a cool tone,
"If you're not going to believe me, there's no point in me arguing. I simply asked what you were doing, out of interest, as a friend. I don't need to point out that I'm the best you're going to get if you want social chit-chat, so I'll find somewhere else to be, shall I?" Turning away from him, I can feel his eyes boring into my back, acknowledging my retreat from his challenge. He is intrigued, but not offended. I expected fury, but am getting cold calculation and I cannot work it out.
"Who says I want friends?" He responds gruffly, before adding, "But point taken. Sit down, then. I'll forgive you, if I must."
Whereas before I might have told him to sod off, the mission is too important for such games and I sit down grudgingly. We stare each other out for a moment and then I feel compelled to ask, through no apparent reason at all,
"You talked to me like you used to speak to the girls just now. Why?"
"Oh, I get it." He says slowly, with a smug nod of his head. "You think I was flirting with you."
"No." I respond, all too quickly. He can see inside my thoughts and he knows too well that he's hit the buzzer right on the head. "Not at all."
"Well, I wasn't." He says, as if I hadn't even spoken. "Who'd want to? It's just an easy way of getting round you, Leonhart. It distracts you from the mission, from your spy operations. Makes you go all mushy because halleluiah, somebody wants you. How long has it been since you got some, or are you a white, blank page?" He snickers to himself. "Probably the latter. Don't go looking for me to write some words down. Not interested."
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down and resist the bait. I've got him talking, open and warm. Yeah, so he's being annoying as all hell, but the way he's going, I might just uncover this mystery and get to return to Balamb. I bite my tongue and reply cheekily,
"If you wanted to distract me from my question, why bring it up again just now?"
"Ah, Squally-boy. That's for me to know and you to find out." He glowers; victory is his, for now.
For all that he's trying to hide his business from me, he's not being anywhere near as flighty and paranoid as I expected. It's almost as if he wants me to find out what he's doing, yet that's unthinkable. If Seifer was preparing a fresh assault on the world, he'd have more sense than to let his plans slip through to me. That and his clear, initial intent to find himself a Sorceress makes me wonder whether there's not more to this than meets the eye.
Testing my theory, I mutter, "Doubt it's worth the effort myself. Think I might go for a walk, the weather's finally picked up."
His eyes darken a little, and he shows signs of panic. It's pretty obvious that he doesn't want me leaving this apartment, but does he want me to fight for the information? Possibly he just wants to feel that he has a purpose, that he possesses something that Squall Leonhart would kill for. Hell, it's what he's wanted most of his life but his behaviour right now is characteristic of Zell. Cheap, reverse psychology is not Seifer's style and neither is begging. I've thought it before and I do so again with more certainty; something isn't right about this.
"Don't you want to know what I'm up to, after all? Nobody will be happy if Squally the spy-boy goes back with no secrets, will they? Poor Squall, you might even find yourself out of a job." He grins despite his anxiety. "All because of harmless little me."
He's deluding himself if he thinks that's true, I muse, and then I reply, "Stop playing with me. I asked out of interest, and I'm not going to twist your arm or play stupid verbal games with you to find out. I'd rather go get some fresh air."
"Oh, Squall, Squall. I'm hurt. I was relying on you being all anal about your job, just like you used to be. Shame. I miss the uptight bastard. Still, I guess I could do you a favour and give you a little clue as to what you're going to be facing in six months or so." He leans back against his chair again, eyebrows raised, face illuminated with whatever pleasure he's getting from driving me crazy.
I pause. "If you want to, Seif, go right ahead. I'm not bothered either way."
"What, no '...whatever.'? Such poor form today, Squall. Sorely disappointed, no A+ for you."
He's just talking in rambles now. He's been doing that a lot all week, losing the subject in one of his little metaphorical speeches and then forgetting to go back to it. It's a big change from the focussed, verbally vindictive man I used to know and it leaves me feeling unsettled. I continue to look at him, contributing no further comment but offering him the floor. Like the Seifer of before, he takes it greedily.
"Well, well, spy-boy. Won't you be gutted when you hear what I have to say?" His green eyes are positively alive with evil excitement and his lips have made a cruel smirk on his face. "Won't you be just devastated?"
"I won't know, until you come out with it." I reply tonelessly, contrasting his rising fervour with my cold, calm indifference.
"I suppose I've kept you waiting enough." He concedes, tapping the surface of the table with his fountain pen. Its hollow knock makes the scene even more eerie; even though the sun beams through the window and the room is relatively light, it still feels dark, odd and chilling. Perhaps it's the unknown yet scarily familiar expression on Seifer's face; that frenzied look of a victorious man. At least he's still got his confidence. Again, I say nothing. It seems to spur him on faster than my replying; just like old times.
"Here it is, then. Make sure you report this back to your employers nice and loud, now; I want to go down well for them. Whilst you've been doing your surveillance, you were probably thinking you had me covered the entire time and assuming that you could rest easy; I was proving you wrong. You're not the man you used to be, Squall. I got through your net this time." He chuckles softly and I feel a sense of deep forboding creep over me once more. I've really screwed up royally and I don't know what the hell I'm going to do if I've messed this up for Balamb-G. They needed me and I've let them down. What kind of leader am I? As I painfully consider the consequences, he is speaking again; voice hard and firm yet full of vicious joy. I cannot stop my jaw from dropping when I listen to his following words;
"I've recruited myself a fucking huge army, Squall. Right under your nose."
---