HOWDY! Here's the disclaimer what not.
I don't own any of Squaresoft's characters. I only own the story.
The story takes place about 2 years plus after Ultimecia's defeat in the game. Things have changed, and is Squall becoming a father..?
This fanfic is rated as M for later chapters. The pairings in this story are the original pairings in the actual game, Squall+Rinoa & Irvine+Selphie, but these may change over time.
-mag
How deeply afraid, I've always been
Of the lightness of being, and the darkness within.
Even since time was a memory for me
The darkness has reigned, a corrupt monarchy.
How deeply I've felt apart from the norm
Of not fitting in from the day I was born
And how does a child, like a dog in a pound
Learn how to love in the lost and found?
/Squall's POV/
Anxiety built up in me like a towering pile of bricks.
"Shit" I thought, pacing up and down the floor.
It was barely 3 years since the defeat of Ultimecia, barely three years from when me and Rinoa were constantly at each other's throats, Rinoa rebuking me for being "callous" towards my comrades, and me admonishing her for being the amateur resistance-member that she was. Ahem, things haven't quite taken a 180-degree-turn.. We're still exchanging spitting remarks on a regular basis till this day, but we both see it from a different angle, OK? From my angle… Or her angle… Or… Whatever. I don't really give a shit about the explanation, so long as you get my friggin' point.
"Goddamit… That fucking dude better come now or I'll gladly slice his manlihood into little pieces…"
"Squall! "
Jesus. I admit that I never worked well with stress. During fights, duels, I fought my hardest, but that was a different matter. I was a trained professional. But under these situations, I was like a helpless puppy. Balamb Garden never provided tutorials regarding these matters. If only they did.
Quistis was sitting, calmly, by Rinoa's side, clutching her hand. The look that she shot me was of immense disapproval, as if I had just committed an act of worldly injustice.
"You're not doing her any good by cursing and swearing."
My eyes narrowed. Rinoa, oblivious to our little squabble, was panting and squirming in her place. She was propped on numerous overstuffed pillows, and yet she looked as if she were lying on a pile of broken glass. Her breaths escaped her mouth in short, agonizing gasps, her chest rising and falling in a most painful manner with each intake and outtake of air.
I ought to be mad, I thought. The way they were running this hospital, unable to answer immediately to the urgent calls of patients, I was surprised they were able to keep at least half of their clients alive. But I kept my mouth clamped and instead showed my agitation by glaring at Quistis who disregarded it completely.
The room became quiet, except for Rinoa's pants. I didn't like the silence. I wanted something to be done. Frustrated and impatient, I banged furiously at the Call button, willing a few million nurses and doctors to come to my aide. It wasn't helping.
"ARRHHG!"
I picked up the nearest object I could find (a flower vase) and hurled it in the direction of the doorway, just in time to knock someone smack in the face. Broken china, water and sickly-sweet smelling flowers were strewn all over the unexpected visitor.
/General POV/
"WHAT THE-"Zell started swiping at his face and clothes, outraged. "WHY?"
"Woah, Squall. Gotta watch your anger management." A familiar tall, svelte figure stepped out from behind Zell, chuckling.
"Irvine, Zell." Quistis greeted, nodding.
"Howdy." Irvine replied, tipping his cowboy hat. Zell was still shouting obscenities. Squall suddenly seemed like a polite gentleman.
Squall merely nodded. He was still fuming over the absence of the doctor.
"Selphie went to get some flowers. They're of good quality, mind you. Hope you won't go hurling them at unsuspecting people," Irvine chuckled, gesturing to Zell, who was fishing a daisy from inside his shirt, vulgarities still streaming out of his mouth.
"I thought the both of you were on your honeymoon." Squall said.
Convinced that the Sorceress War had finally ended, Irvine felt it was finally time to pop the question and proposed to an elated Selphie, who blurted out an acceptance instantly. The lovesick couple tied the knot shortly after, a quiet little wedding by the beach of Dollet, despite Irvine's fondness of glitz and glamour. They then spent the next few weeks touring the world, discovering new and excitable places. Squall was not expecting them till a month later, yet there Irvine was, standing before him, hands in pocket, a smirk playing across his thin lips.
Squall remembered very well, the day that he had met Irvine for the first time, and his first opinions about the sniper were "Fucking asshole". His sentiments hadn't exactly changed since then, but his like for him had increased. They were good friends, he, Irvine and Zell.
Irvine's chiseled features were half-hidden, blending in with the darkness of their surroundings. The room they were all in was unlit, the only light source coming from the open door, casting an ominous shadow on all of them. Despite the lack of light, a darker tan was visible on Irvine's face. Irvine was sporting a jet black, long-sleeved collar shirt with his favorite jeans and his trademark hat. Squall had always secretly detested the hat, often resisting the temptation of picking up his gun blade and slashing it to shreds.
Zell was wearing what he always did, his Bermudas, jacket, sneakers and gloves. Again Squall couldn't stand the combination, but he guessed that somebody like Zell wouldn't know better regarding their fashion taste.
Zell. He was still a hot-headed little boy, constantly ending up in fights, due to his temperament. He hadn't changed much-only a inch or two gain in height, a little weight lost, and that was it. He had picked a job a month after the defeat of Ultimecia as a Balamb instructor, to teach SeeD wannabes how to deal in combat. And yet, even years after, Squall was still amazed at how the Balamb students managed to survive each class, managing only minor self-inflicted cuts or bruises from a ill-targeted punch or a clumsy kick.
Zell, after sorting out his mess, picked the flowers up and chucked them carelessly out of the room. He strolled casually over to Rinoa's side, sizing her up.
"Man. She looks terrible." Squall snorted. Zell tightened his gloves and closed his eyes in concentration.
"Don't bother. Curing her won't work." Said Squall, but Zell had already summoned a glittering charm, who did not stop writhing in pain altogether, but calmed down a great deal. She sunk into her pillows in pure exhaustion.
"There. Worked well, din't it?" said Zell, looking immensely satisfied with himself. Squall sighed and walked over to a worn armchair, in which he sunk into, massaging his temples.
Then a silhouette appeared in the doorway, whose squat and portly body was drowning the room in even more darkness.
"'Scuse mee? Someone call doctorrr?" the man asked in an unmistakably foreign accent. Before Squall could utter a word, Quistis jumped and explained the situation to the doctor, who nodded and sprang "Yes, yes" and "Ah" at every few words, as if she was uttering words of pure genius.
"I vill do vot I can vif hurr, it may take some time, I dunt know how the operation vill go." The doctor muttered meekly, glancing around nervously at all three people who were staring him down, eyebrows raised. "but I vill perform to the best of my ability."
You better, Squall thought. Or it will be YOUR neck I'LL be operating on. The foreign doctor called helpers to put Rinoa on a stretcher and they wheeled her to the Operating Room.
Irvine sighed.
"Lucky dude. You're going to be a father in no time."
There was a hint of envy in every word.
whoot! my first fanfic.
Reviews are so lovely,
tum dum tee dum.
until next chapter.