Disclaimer: The story, plot, and some minor characters are mine. The rest are Square Enix's.

Chapter 03: Un Bel Di

Note: This story hasn't been QC-ed, so, uh, no thanks to Mog. I decided to split what previously I thought would be Chapter 3 into two: Chapter 3 and 4, so this came out quite short. By the way, Un bel di is an all-time favourite aria from Giacomo Puccini's opera: Madama Butterfly. I made a sketch of Blake by the way: shindou(dot)alcidelic(dot)com(slash)Sketches(slash)blake002(dot)jpg

The whole beginning, as Blake inferred, was a week after his parents died in an accident, when he spent many days contemplating yet the most credible option to his future—he had to put aside many things he liked to do, some of them things he had always given his all to: music and computers, the rest things he did to cover his loneliness: surfing the Intarweb, watching television, playing video games, and reading magazines and novels for he had to work in order to continue his life. It was not easy for him to think about it; plus, to even his modest measure, the income and what experience he might gain were not worth the hours he would suffer by working. Never in his life before he conceived that he might end up working in a cheap bar as a bartender, or as a cashier in a disc store, or even in the streets as a prostitute—in the end, he did consider the latter choice—it actually struck his mind as something challenging. However, at the same day Blake happened to listen to a song he had long forgotten about and was really moved by its melody and words, which were as following:
One fine day, we'll notice
A thread of smoke arising
On the far horizon above the sea
And then the ship appeared.
And thus the only thing he became very sure of was that he wanted to continue his life so that somehow, someday he might achieve what many he had always wanted to; and for that possibility, he would work.

Blake settled himself on one of the benches inside the Garden. Arm joints pressed against thighs, chin cupped between palms, he watched the glimmering water topple from the statues into the pool in front of him, each splash reminding him of screams that proceeded and explosions that succeeded each time a missile hit the ground in Trabia Garden. He dared to ask himself a question that he dared not answer positively: whether it was as beautiful as this fountain was. Nonetheless, he was perfectly aware that he hated it and its culprits for what bodily damage it had caused him, not quite for how many lives it had taken off. For many weeks he was hospitalized after the mishap; and during so, he was absorbed into thinking how life had ended for him—how impossible already it would be for him to remedy his foil—to recuperate to the times when he still had friends.

However, not long after, he met an old sorceress who had always concealed her power for decades and eventually gained her trust to inherit her sorcery power. She also taught him how to conceal his burn mark with Transfiguration magic—which, after he did his first successful trial, he used constantly upon himself.

'What does it matter now? Stay strong and enjoy what this world gives you—friends, good looks, power, et al,' thought Blake, smiling and gazing about desultorily. 'I'll be having a para-magic class tomorrow. Hmm, but maybe I should work my sorcery skills for a bit instead—it's already past midnight after all, no one should be in the Training Center.'

The Training Center was originally a lush small forest monster-inhabited only by carnivorous plants: Grats, and T-Rexaurs, both of which the students battled against to practice. However, the committee decided to diversify the types of monster by introducing Anacondaurs and Grendels into the habitat. There had been rumors saying that the technicians at Fisherman Horizon might build an artificial snowy habitation system in a part of the Training Center to shelter monsters that could only survive under cold climate, which they were currently researching.

Knowing no one was around, Blake busied himself by exterminating monsters strictly with only his sorcery power and examining them for their subtle weaknesses and behaviours. He projected his palm in the direction of a Grendel, sending his force-based hand copy near the monster's neck and squeezed it powerfully, making the monster discharge blood out of its mouth and die in an instant. It was one of his most favourite killing techniques that he himself developed—its only drawback, as he insisted, was the extreme amount of concentration required to project the magic hand. Force magic was, like Adel, his ace, alongside Transfiguration magic.

Suddenly, Blake was surrounded two T-Rexaurs and an Anacondaur. He was never good at dodging or attacking with a pair of short swords, despite being his weapon of choice; and his sorcery power was already at its usage quota. He believed that he could survive the battle if he used his skills wisely—and so he did. He knocked down the Grendel; whereupon, due to his poor movement, one of the T-Rexaurs was able to bite him on the shoulder. He then cast Aero to repel the monster. To his surprise, the other T-Rexaur was already right behind him, whipping him with its tail, causing him to fly and land heavily against the other T-Rexaur's body.

Quickly pulling himself together, Blake jumped away, cautiously chose his location, and put on his stance. He was about to cause mass destruction in the Training Hall with all the remaining sorcery power he had until another student came to help him. Unfortunately, soon enough it came to Blake's realization that his rescuer did not have what it took to withstand even just one T-Rexaur. Also, he was aware that his Transfiguration's effect would wear out anytime soon.

"Go away!" yelled Blake at the other student while trying to dodge, sensing the rapid vanishing of his Transfiguration's effect.

The other student said nothing and only continued his attempt to knock his opponent down.

"Alright then, stay focused! Don't look behind you!" said Blake, knowing his Transfiguration's effect had completely vanished and yet the other student stayed still and pejorative in spite of his state.

Frustrated, Blake decided to use his sorcery power, hoping that it would end this quickly. He also hoped that the other student would not turn around and see him perform his magic nor see his terrifying appearance. He held his right hand up, concentrated his remaining power into it, forming hundreds of Force missiles.

Just as Blake was going to launch them, the other student, who was curious of the sudden high pressure that came round him from Blake, turned himself around. He lost grip of his weapon and gasped.

"M-m-m-monster!" he uttered loudly.

Instinctively, Blake propelled the Force missiles at the other student.

Blood discharged wildly from all over the body of Blake's intending rescuer. The T-Rexaurs, having able to sense how dangerous their former prey had become, ran away.

'If I leave him here, the monsters will eventually come to consume parts of his body, and the real cause of death will be concealed.'

Blake immediately cast Cura upon his wounds and ran off of the Training Center to the Dormitories.

'What have I done? What have I done?' he asked himself, shaking in tears as his good conscience returned.

That guy has killed everyone else in his sight but me. He looks like about my age, but his smile shows how incomparable our pasts were. Do I want to try to understand the plight of someone who has killed my friends? I might get killed. I'm scared.
Do I have to run when I know that he has hold me prisoner? Do I have to struggle knowing I've seen him kill all of my friends in a matter of seconds?
My friends died in front of me—so why hasn't it incited me to appreciate my life?
And what is this beautiful place? The meadows stretched like a multi-colored carpet; the wind scattered the swift parade of clouds; and no one is here. Where has everyone suddenly gone to? Oh, look, over there in the distance—the murderer is sitting near the sparkling river.
I approached him. I hugged him from behind.

"Mmh," mumbled Zell, half-awake.

"Your face is red. You seem to be having a fever," said Seifer, stroking backwards the locks of hair that fell on Zell's face and placed the palm on his forehead. "Quite hot."

Zell smiled at the affection. It was the first time he felt someone caress his head since over a decade ago.

"What time is it now?" asked Zell.

"Seven AM. I suggest you go see Doctor Kadowaki before class, knowing well you won't take a break from teaching regardless of whatever I'm going to say," said Seifer in a frustrated manner. "Now move it!"

"You disrupted my dream." 'But I can already see how my day will turn out—I know I'll be happy all day long!'

Seifer was going to say something when an announcement came up. "All Garden faculty are to gather in Training Center immediately. I repeat: All Garden faculty are to gather in Training Center immediately."

"In Training Center? What happened?" asked Zell, getting up from his bed.

"I don't know. Some slow-witted cadet died fighting a T-Rexaur?" said Seifer, smirking.

"You shouldn't joke about it. Mmm, I'm kinda hungry, but I gotta be in Training Center immediately. So, could you grab a hot dog or two for me, and a cup of cappuccino—no, a cup of orange juice, please?" asked Zell, changing his clothes to his instructor uniform.

"Yeah, sure—just don't get used to having me run errands for you," said Seifer, grooming Zell's hair—it made Zell blush a little, not enough for Seifer to notice.

"Okay, thanks! I'll see you later then!" With that, Zell pecked Seifer and proceeded toward the Training Center.