I don't own Squaresoft...

Emotion Sickness

Prologue:

A lone figure strode down a deserted alley, black trench coat billowing out behind him as he walked. Rats peered out at him from their homes in old take-out boxes and garbage bins, light from the streetlamps reflecting in their eyes and giving them an eerie glow. Graffiti was etched on the brick walls of the run-down buildings on either side of him and all kinds of litter and waste were strewn around, mud and grime sticking to the bottom of the man's feet as he walked. He paid no attention to the state of the little street, but headed straight toward a single metal door with peeling green paint at the end of the alley and paused to knock three times.

"Who's there?" a rough voice grunted from the other side of the door after a couple of seconds.

"Squall," said the man quietly "I'm all out, did you get a shipment in recently?"

The man behind the door seemed to hesitate, before sliding the door open and grabbing Squalls sleeve. Pulling him inside, he peered out into the gloom to make sure he hadn't been followed before shutting the door again.

The man looked Squall over critically.

"How much do you need?"

The man had short blonde hair and startlingly green eyes. He was tall and lanky, but still had a tough badass look about him. A mischievous glint was in his eye and a long scar ran diagonally across his face between his right eye and nose. He seemed very sure of himself, or it might have been mere cockiness as he smirked at Squall.

"Quite a bit," Squall said "I'm totally out."

"You know," said the blonde with a wolf-like grin "you could always do it....the natural way."

"No, Seifer," Squall said "you know I won't. I refuse to."

Seifer sighed.

"I don't know why you refuse, it's not that bad. Quite enjoyable, actually."

Squall gave a harsh laugh, which sounded more like a bark.

"You're sick."

Seifer gave another sigh, this time accompanied by the shaking of his head.

"Give it another couple months; you'll change your mind."

"Look," Squall snapped, throwing off his hood "Are you going to sell it to me or not?"

He had silky chestnut coloured hair and was shorter than Seifer, though not by much. He was just as muscular looking, if not more so, than Seifer as well. He also had a scar running diagonally across his face, but going in the opposite direction, and a sharp looking metal barbell went through his eyebrow, while another one went through his lip. The most interesting thing about him, however, was his eyes. They were ethereal blue, giving him a cold and distant look, but as if something deeper was hiding just beneath the surface, something that nobody would ever be able to dig up. Something he kept to himself.

"Yeah, yeah," Seifer muttered, going to the nearby fridge and pulling out a couple boxes. "You want four?" he asked.

Squall nodded, and Seifer handed him the boxes. Balancing them on one hand, Squall dug into his pocket and produced his wallet.

"How much?"

"A hundred's fine."

Squall frowned, his eyes narrowing.

"Only a hundred? Why?"

Seifer's grin flickered back like a lost radio signal.

"Oh, I just have a feeling you won't be needing them for much longer," Seifer said,ushering Squall to the door.

"Screw you." He spat as he thrust the money into Seifer's hand.

"They all cave in at the end, Squall." Seifer said with a hint of amusement "Eventually, you will too."

"No, I won't" Squall insisted.

Seifer pushed him out the door.

"Have a nice night!" With a false cheery smile, he swung the door shut, and Squall found himself facing the cold metal door once again.

Well, theres the prologue. This is my first fic ever so try to be nice about it. I don't really mind if you didn't like it, but tell me why you didn't and then my next stories will be better. Feel free to comment or give ideas/suggestions.