An immense feeling of calm swept over him. It was as though he were floating, cast in a place where despite that the light prevented him from opening his eyes, it didn't hurt. He wasn't panicking, and he knew no pain. There was no sadness, no joy, no despair, and no excitement. No emptiness, and yet no fulfillment. He supposed a utopia he had stumbled upon.

But suddenly the peace broke, and with a startled cry Tress collapsed. He laid shivering on a hard tile floor, limbs aching and head stirring. Around the youth people began to stir as well, muttering while some cried. Laguna lifted his head heavily, looking around him. They were placed in a room with glass doors sliding open as water retreated into the drains. Soldiers strode over to the citizens as they helped them to their feet, explaining things as they went about wrapping towels around their shoulders.

Laguna frowned at Tress, lying huddled in a ball, shivering horribly as his body fought for breath. Crawling towards his grandson, he laid a hand lightly on the boy's shoulder. Tress jerked at the touch, and Laguna rolled him over.

"Medic!" he yelled behind his shoulder.

Tress had landed on his right arm. The whole created by the tube had skimmed across the floor, creating a large gap in his arm; the blood flowing down the drain he had been laying over. A few men dashed over to the huddled body, and seeing the wound, lifted him up, covering the bare body as they ushered the youth away. Laguna was attended to as he watched his grandson being taken away.

When Tress finally opened his eyes, his vision was blurred. He found himself staring a thin, metal railing, and when he looked up, he met Laguna's relaxing face. The president smiled daintily down at his grandson.

"What happened?" asked the youth, noticing the blankets wrapped around Laguna's shoulders. He felt cold, despite the covers pulled up to his neck. "Where are we?"

"We've finally arrived," Laguna told him. pulling one corner closer as his body shook visibly. "We're in New Esthar, Tress." The boy stared at his grandfather in confusion. He tried to sit up, but grunted as he felt his arm restrained.

Looking down at the bandaged wound, Tress asked, "What happened?"

"You fell," replied a doctor as he strode in, carrying some forms in his arms. Taking off his glasses and resting them folded in his upper pocket, he continued, "It would seem that you skidded when you fell, causing the tube indent to reopen itself. Rarely does this sort of thing happen, but there was no great loss of blood, and you seem to be recovering fine."

"Why am I so cold?" asked Tress numbly.

"Part of the waking process."

"We were frozen," Laguna reminded him. Tress merely nodded. The room was small with a comfy bed beside his own; a curtain drawn back to reveal it empty. Light poured through the windows and lace curtains. Not bothering with this, he turned back to the men.

"I remember," he told a worried Laguna, nodding slightly. He felt exhausted, despite the fact he'd been asleep so long. "I had a nice dream."

"Oh?" asked Laguna curiously. Turning to the doctor, he asked, "Is that normal? I thought it was supposed to be a dreamless slumber, after what happened a year ago."

"Yeah, that makes little sense," replied the man, placing his glasses the edge of his nose as he stared down at the papers. "There are no recordings of dreams. Least of all, not from your room."

Laguna stared at Tress curiously, but then said, sighing, "Well, at least you're all right now. That's what matters."

"What happened a year ago?"

"Another time," the president told him. "Rest."

The pair remained in the Transport Medic for the next two days to recover. Despite the doctors' constant reassurances, Tress felt like he had come close to dying. Dressing into a pair of new clothing; his old having faded and worn out. Tress looked himself over curiously. They clothing was much different.

Instead of his old capree shorts and t-shirt, they had given Tress a pair of baggy, black shorts and tank top. He looked up at his grandfather curiously, asking, "Does everyone dress like this?"

"Some," he replied, throwing on a new button down shirt over his leisure pants. "They gave you clothing that's popular amongst the kids in Celestial Garden at the moment." Tress frowned, remembering this.

"When do I leave?" he asked, looking around for a pair of sock and shoes.

"Not for another week or so, don't worry. What're you looking for?" he asked, pausing in the middle of a button.

"Shoes." Tress looked up as Laguna laughed. "What?" he asked indignantly.

"If you're looking for socks, we don't wear them here. As for shoes, we wear simple, silver styled boots. Come, grab your things and follow me."

Laguna led them down various white hallways filled with bustling people dressed in leather suits and skirts. Few glanced at the pair as they passed, going about their daily activities. Tress noticed everyone they passed were barefooted. He looked up at Laguna curiously, wondering what game his grandfather was playing with him. They paused as they reached a counter before a pair of sliding glass doors. Tress stood holding the strap of a new pack as Laguna conversed with the woman behind the counter.

"And for the child?"

"Small should do him fine," Laguna replied. The woman nodded, disappearing into the back.

Tress stared up barely over the countertop, his eyes shifting to his grandfather's smiling face. The youth still felt a bit chilly, but Laguna told him it was common. The woman reappeared, handing the man two sets of silver, leather boots. Striding over to some seats, Laguna held them out to the boy.

"Here," he said, sitting down. "Try them on." Tress took them in his hand, dropping the pack.

"Kinda small, aren't they?" he asked examining them. They were made of a type of leather material he hadn't seen before.

"Nope, they should be fine."

Shrugging his shoulders, Tress fell back, and started shoving his foot into one, suspecting it to get caught halfway. To his immense surprise his foot slid in easily; the material forming around it perfectly. Tress put the other on, and sat back, clicking the ends of his boots together curiously.

Laguna stood with a slight grunt, smiling at the stranger's reaction. "Like them?"

Tress looked up, saying, "Y-Yeah. I don't understand. Why were some people barefoot here?"

"They're used to the lack of gravity," Laguna told him. "You're not. I just returned, so I have to grow accustomed to it again."

"What's the matter with the gravity?"

"It's lighter here," the man explained, gesturing to the place as he rested his other hand in his pants' pocket. "You can just float around. These boots will give us the same feel of gravity as was on Earth. This place in particular was built for arriving guests."

"Oh." Tress looked back at this boots, frowning slightly.

What would Dad think of these I wonder…

Seeing the grim expression, Laguna knelt down beside his grandson. "Listen, you must be starving. I know I am. Here, I'll bring you to my favorite restaurant in the city, and you can order whatever you wish. Sound good?"

Tress smiled lightly, nodding as he got to his feet. Grabbing his pack, he followed Laguna to the pair of twenty-foot doors as they opened. Startled. Tress stepped through them carefully into a new world. The cobblestone streets running adjacent to black, tar paths where cars passed by unnoticed. Various signs and billboards were visible over the seemingly hovering buildings. People floated or strode past chatting excitedly, ignoring the pair. A dome surrounded the city; the other side out of site. The light passing over the city came from the stars and neon lamps floating around the city. It gave New Esthar a strange and exhilarating glow, though still somewhat gloomy. Strange objects with deep carvings stood around the streets; seemingly useless.

"Like it?" asked Laguna, smiling at Tress' awed expression.

"I don't know what to make of it," he confessed quietly, blinking as a neon light passed over his face. Looking to his grandfather, he asked, "Which way do we head?" Gazing around, Tress' head began ache just thinking about how big the city was.

As a response Laguna jogged down the steps, Tress pausing before following. The man led him down past shops selling clothing, antiques, furniture, books, and even a place to buy homes. He noticed however that there were no food stores. Tress stopped as Laguna turned, crossing the street. The youth hurried to catch up, avoiding being hit by a van. He looked back as he stumbled back on the sidewalk.

They passed around a corner and halted outside a tall building with a sign reading 'Chivalry Rights'. He stared at in wonder. Laguna however merely paused before striding through the door. Following, Tress arrived as his grandfather discussed seating with the headwaiter. Instead he gazed around the restaurant in fascination.

Relatively large, the little place was crowded with bustling waiters attending to their growing number of customers. Small, move lights of various colors shifted around the room, circling people and waiters as they passed along. Various beautiful paintings, signs, and logos hung on the dark, wooden walls. In the back Tress could see booths seated beside stain glassed windows.

Tugging on Laguna's sleeve with his left hand, Tress told him as the man looked down curiously, "Can we sit in the back? Near the colored windows?" Laguna looked up at this before smiling.

Turning to the waiter, he told him, "We'll sit in the back, if that's fine."

The man nodded before grabbing a pair of menus and leading them to the back. Tress was aware of the looks some people gave them, whispering behind hands. He felt uncomfortable, and shifted the pack on his shoulder uneasily. The waiter stepped aside to let them through, and Laguna slid into one end on the curved booth while Tress drew level. The waiter handed them both a menu before excusing himself to retrieve them water. Tress watched the man's retreat before dropping his pack down on the side opposite of his grandfather. Sliding in, Tress grunted as his right elbow struck the side of the table.

"Are you all right?" asked Laguna worriedly, leaning closer quickly.

Grunting slightly, he replied, "Yeah," before sliding in more carefully.

Despite the aching in his wounded arm, Tress found himself quite excited. He thought it a nice change from the despair he had felt on his way here. His mind drifted to his rude awakening a few days back, but shaking his head, Tress focused on the menu before him. Opening it, the youth was amazed at the selection. Everything was split into sections and varieties. Tress wasn't sure where to start. He was only used to his parents' cooking, whatever that was considered under. He glanced over at Laguna who seemed to be enjoying himself as he stared leisurely at the selection.

As Tress returned to his own choosing, a waitress strode over to them, carrying two glasses of water and placing them before the pair. Turning to the boy, she smiled, saying, "I haven't seen you around here before. Are you new?"

"Just arrived from Earth," Laguna told her as Tress looked up. The president sat with elbows resting on the edge of the table, hands folded into one another before him as he smiled at the lovely young woman.

"Ooh," she cooed, turning to Tress. "You must be excited then! Quite a trip! That would make you older than I am then," she added, laughing. Laguna chuckled at this as well. "So," she added, taking out a pad and pen. "What can I get you both?"

"I'll have the gourmet special," Laguna replied, looking at the menu. "Except perhaps with the onion soup instead of vegetable and a side dish of mashed potatoes please."

"Course," she said, flicking her hair out of her eyes as she took the menu. Turning to Tress she asked, "And you?" The boy looked at uncertainly. He was unfamiliar with much of the food listed there.

"Here, let's try this," Laguna suggested, closing the menu before him. Tress looked at his grandfather curiously. Turning to the waitress, he added, "Give him the same but with a side of sautéed mushrooms and chicken with onion soup. Perhaps some appetizers of kenips." The waitress nodded, smiling, before taking the second menu.

Tress watched her walk away before turning to Laguna, asking, "What are kenips?"

"They're a vegetable grown here," he replied, taking a sip of water. "Very tasty, and they will settle your hunger till our meals arrive." Tress hadn't noticed the pain in his stomach; his mind focused on the soreness in his arm instead.

The waitress returned a moment later with a small bowl of what looked like long, green leaf stems. Tress watched them apprehensively. He looked at Laguna, who gestured to the stems with a smile. Picking up one carefully, Tress nibbled it carefully. Despite a bit of a bitterness, it was juicy and soft. The youth sat on his knees, looking out the stain glass windows curiously; watching the citizens as they passed by. Few worse boots, making Tress conscious of the eyes watching his back.

"The others can come visit soon."

Tress snapped his attention back at his grandfather at this. Sitting down, he asked, still nibbling on the kenip, "Where are they?"

"Oh, they're spread out across the city," replied Laguna, taking another sip of the plain beverage. "You should really drink some water."

"I'm not very thirsty," admitted Tress, sitting straight as he took another kenip.

"You don't understand," Laguna, said, shaking his head as he lowered the glass. "Water is vital on this structure. Because of the radiation emanating from the gases and fumes used to keep New Esthar afloat, you have to drink a lot of the water provided. It will stop you from being dehydrated and the chemicals placed in it will prevent strange reactions."

Tress looked at his grandfather curiously. "Isn't there anything besides water then?" Laguna was shaking his head halfway through the sentence.

"No," replied the president as Tress drifted off. "The chemicals of other beverages conflict with the concoction placed into the water. It's a very important process. The water itself has to be completely cleansed of any bacterial regiments and then Lione is added to it."

"What's that?" questioned Tress curiously, nibbling on the end of the kenip.

"That's what the chemical placed into it is called," Laguna replied. "It's very important for several reasons. Because New Esthar is constantly in rotation, it helps to settle the senses so you don't become disoriented. It prevents the dehydration process, and builds your system up against the radiation. Do you understand?"

Tress nodded grimly, feeling that his new life was going to be an interesting one. He slowly took a sip of the water, nearly gagging at the bitter, bubbly feeling. Breaking into a fit of coughs, he tried to hide them behind an arm as eyes were laid on the scene. Laguna sat there, ruffling the right side of his head at the boy.

People looked away as the waitress approached shooing them away, before placing two trays of food before the pair. Tress stared down at the food in amazement. The special included a ten ounce steak with fuming sauces blended to make his mouth water; topped with chopped onions and mushrooms. A few stray kenip bits bubbled at the surface of his chicken rice and onion soup. A lemon trifle was laid beside the tray topped with whipped cream and chopped nuts. Another plate of food with fruit salad mixed with strawberry whipped cream beside a macaroni salad was placed on his other side.

The waitress smiled as Tress' amazed expression. Chuckling, she told him, "I hope you enjoy it then." She nodded as Laguna raised a hand in acknowledgment before turning and leaving.

Turning to his grandson, Laguna asked, "What're you waiting for? I know I'm not sitting here staring at it in hopes it'll leap inside my mouth."

Tress promptly took up his fork and knife and began cutting into the steak. As he placed it in his mouth, warmth filled the youth, his ravenous hunger taking effect. As Tress reached his last bite of the trifle, Laguna chuckled at the joyful look passing over the boy's face; his own plates cleared and placed to the side. Tress sat back with a relieved sigh, his head nodding a bit.

"I take it you enjoyed your first meal here then?" he asked musingly.

Tress patted his stomach, sitting up as he stretched; careful to keep his right arm tucked in. Turning to his grandfather, he replied, "It was the most delicious one I've ever had. I think that made up two days worth of what I had at home." At this Tress frowned slightly, recalling what had brought him here. Laguna felt a pang of guilt in his heart and sympathy for the boy. After a few moments, Tress asked quietly, "Do you think my Dad and Mom would have liked it here?"

"Probably not you father," Laguna confessed. Tress turned to his grandfather curiously. "Squall was the most stubborn man I know."

"Knew," Tress corrected. Laguna frowned at this. The boy looked slowly down at his hands. After a few moments, Laguna rose to his feet with a grunt.

"We should be heading home," he told his grandson. Tress looked up at him as Laguna stretched.

"Where's that?"

"A large building that's set above the rest of the city. Just my way of sorta looking out for everyone."

"You mean you watch them," Tress simplified, nodding.

"I supposed," confessed the president. "If you want to put it in blatant terms. Shall we then? After all that's happened, you must be tired."

Tress didn't understand why he would be. They'd been sleeping for the last twenty years. But as he stood, Tress had to lean against the table, banging his elbow again, head spinning. Something felt wrong. Looking down, he saw that one of his boots had come off. Looking around frantically, Tress fought the urge to hurl. Seeing it on the seat, he clasped it feebly, falling back as he struggled to put it on. Once again, his foot slipped in easily. After a few moments his head and stomach began to ease. Laguna returned, seeing his grandson sitting there, clicking the ends of his boots together.

"What're you doing?"

"Nothing," Tress told him, rising to his feet slowly, grabbing his pack.

As Laguna turned his back, Tress rubbed his elbow carefully. Striding through the aisles of eyes, the pair stepped out into a refreshing breeze. Tress raised his head to it, breathing in deeply.

"There's drafts here?" he asked curiously.

"Generated," Laguna told him. "Most refreshing for those who are always caught up in this city." Tress only nodded as they stepped out into the street to the other side.

Tress wondered what time it was, and then thought that it probably didn't even matter here. The people most likely slept when they felt like it. He studied the streets self-consciously as they strode past various stores and homes, noting the small details in case he ever got lost. Finally, when Tress thought he was dead on his feet, they arrived over a magnificent building. Though it wasn't as tall as the others, it was wider, and hovered in the air.

Laguna strode to the gates as they opened, Tress hurrying in his shadow. They stepped around the moving path leading to the entrance. The youth stepped alongside his grandfather, looking around him curiously. It was a sudden change from the city. On either end of the gates' interior was made up of a beautiful garden; sprinklers and water fountains dotting the area. Laguna stopped before a small lift. He looked at his curious grandson for a moment before stepping on it; Tress quickly following example. As they did, a dome spread up and over them, the lift coming to life. It gave a bolt, and Tress had to lean against the glass to keep his balance as they went speeding back. Taking a sudden lurch up as flaps opened, they came to a sudden halt on a floor. Tress felt queasy, collapsing to one side as the dome came apart and down. Laguna stepped off casually as the lift headed back.

"What do you think of the place?" Tress turned, standing as he did.

They stood in a massive room with an indention in the floor to one side, curved couches circling its rim. A table was placed tilted before the wide screen television. The far wall was made up of windows, giving a beautiful view of the city below. The large kitchen stood before a hallway leading down past where his eye could see. The carpet was milk soft, matching the off-white walls. Various paintings and pictures hung from the wall, including decorations from various places on Earth. Tress' breath caught in his throat at the size of the home. Above their heads was a black and silver designed banister below a paned roof.

"It's so big…" It echoed slightly, making Tress flinch a bit. "I never imagined one person could live in a place like this…"

"Well," said Laguna, gazing around as he rested hands in pockets. "It can get lonely, but I have frequent visitors, so you'll have to get used to that for the week you're here." Tress looked uncertainly at his grandfather for a moment before remembering his leave for the Celestial Garden. "Come on," added the president with a small wave of his hand. "I'll show you to your room."

Laguna led the awed boy down the hallway near the kitchen to the back where some black and silver, metal steps led up to the banister. Tress was awed at the turns in the hallways from there, but Laguna led him past them to the opposite side. Striding down the hallways, the man paused before a particular white door. Opening it as Tress appeared, Laguna smiled as he let the door creak open.

Tress stepped in, pausing as he laid eyes on the room. In the middle of the room up against the left wall rested a canopy bed with blue covers and white pillows resting attractively. Glass windows at the far wall led to a balcony, the curtains parted to either side. A table and chairs rested in one corner with a stand of books next to it. To the left side of the bed rested a nightstand, and beside that a biro. What really interested the youth was that a tub of toys lay open up against the wall beside the door, and a hoop stood at the far right corner. He looked up at his grandfather curiously.

"Didn't you play with toys at home?" he asked, a bit confused.

Striding in, and letting his pack fall, Tress knelt before the tub, surveying a truck in his hands. "No, not really," he replied, turning the toy over in his hands. "There was this teddy bear that my mom made me once, but that'd be back there," he added grimly. "Probably old and rotting away by now…"

"Well, despite that, you should be getting some sleep now," Laguna told him. Tress watched his grandfather expectantly. "Umm," added Laguna awkwardly. "Is there something I can—"

"She used to tuck me in," Tress told him.

"Oh," said Laguna, releasing a sigh of relief, smiling now. "Of course. Here, why don't you change into some pajamas. They'd be in that biro," he added, gesturing to the white structure beside the bed stand. "And get you some water."

Tress pulled open the drawers, bringing from them a pair of boxers and white tank top, just pulling the shirt over his head as Laguna returned with a pitcher and glass. The man rested them on the table, pouring the youth some before handing it to him. Laguna watched Tress as he drank it, taking the glass and refilling it before putting it on the boy's nightstand. Tress promptly jumped on his bed, climbing around the pillows and into the covers. Laguna unsurely pulled them up to his grandson's neck. Tress lowered them to his chest, staring at his grandfather.

"Thanks," he said.

"Of course," whispered Laguna, smiling. "I'm glad you decided to come."

Tress didn't comment to this, and after a moment Laguna straightened before heading to the balcony doors. He meant as if to close the curtains when Tress called, "No, keep them that way. I like the lights." Laguna glanced back, nodding.

"All right," said the president with a sigh. "But now it's time for rest, okay?"

Tress nodded as Laguna strode to the door, pausing with hand on knob to smile at the youth before quietly closing it behind him. As the boy rolled over, bringing the covers around him a bit, settling his mind into sleep, Tress thought that he wouldn't have minded staying here.

The next day showed no change in New Esthar's activity. When Tress awoke, stretching, he peered from his bed out the windows at the passing neon lights. He decided to call it morning. The youth was surprised he had slept, thinking that after all that time he would have been hyper. Sliding out of bed, Tress opened his door, striding down the hall and slowly down the steps to the kitchen. He paused in the doorway, eyes widening. A soft sound rose from his throat.

At the noise the woman turned to him curiously. She had a spunky face with curled, shoulder length brown hair and twinkling eyes as a smile crept onto her curved face. She stood with white apron thrown around her narrow shoulders, one hand holding a frying pan, the other with a spatula poised above it.

"Well," she said interestingly, placing down the utensils as she leaned against eh counter. "Haven't seen you in a while."

At this Tress recaptured his senses, plunging his way at the woman. Startled, she held him, chuckling. "Selphie!"

"Who else?" she said, laughing. Pulling him away, she rested hands on knees as she met his eyes, asking, "I suppose your grandfather must have dragged you up here, huh?" With a goofy grin Tress nodded. Ruffling the boy's hair, Selphie added, "Eesh, got your father's hair, don't ya?"

The woman straightened, and Tress turned to see a smiling Laguna watching them. "So I see you've found one already," he commented musingly. Striding to them, he added to the woman, "Nice of you to stop by Selphie. Your timing's impeccable."

"You don't look much older," Tress noted, turning to the young woman.

"We've slowed down the aging process," Selphie told him. "Trust me, I'm easily three times your senior."

"Well," Laguna told them, turning to Tress. "I've already eaten while you were sleeping the morning away. I have to head to work. Selphie," he continued, turning to his friend. "Would you mind perhaps giving Tress here a tour of the city? And getting him some clothes for this week perhaps too."

"For the week?"

"Yes, he's heading to the Celestial Garden." Selphie frowned at this, merely nodding after a moment. Laguna exchanged the gesture before ruffling his grandson's hair lightly as he strode to the lift. After a moment of whirring, the president was gone.

Tress turned to his parents' friend, asking, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she told him, shaking her head. "Sit at the table there, your breakfast is done now."

Tress did as he was told, sitting at the long table in a seat beside the end. Selphie sat opposite of him, placing a plate of eggs, sausage, and toast before the youth. They ate in silence. Tress would shyly look up at the woman, but Selphie refused to meet his eyes as she stared grimly into her food.

At last temptation got the best of him. "Why don't you like Celestial Garden?"

Selphie sighed, placing down her fork. "Listen," she told him seriously. "I lived in Garden once, but that was safer than this one. You're taught combat in space, and there are so many more risks. Please, I beg of you Tress, don't throw your life away." The boy frowned at her.

"You were always the one telling me to not be afraid, to do what I want, and stand up for my beliefs." Narrowing his brow at her, he said firmly, "Well I believe that this whole thing is wrong."

"Tress, what about your parents!"

"They're gone!" he shouted, slamming his hands on the table as he pushed his chair back to rise. Selphie stared at the fuming child in horror as he continued, "My father died saving my life! And my mother's probably become a fiend by now! It doesn't matter what they would have thought now!"

Selphie sat, staring at him for a moment in disbelief. With a scoff, Tress shook his head, striding angrily to the lift, standing stiffly as it began to move. When it came to a stop and the dome released him, Tress realized he was still in his pajamas. Deciding he didn't care, the youth strode down to the gates as they opened, and out onto the cobblestone paths. He passed disapproving stares, taking any turn that came to him not involving crossing the street.

It wasn't until Tress saw a group of kids standing outside an ice cream shop that he stopped. One, a boy around eleven and clearly the leader, was boasting loudly to the others about his visit t to the Celestial Garden. "Yeah," he continued smugly, holding his head high. "They especially liked me. The headmaster said he'd like to see me come back soon." The few scattered around the boy muttered to each other, cones held in their hands as they discussed this new idol.

"Stop lying," said another, leaning against the side of the shop with crossed arms. He didn't lift his head as he continued, "I was right there with you the entire time. He didn't say that. All the headmaster mentioned was hoping for more visitors." The other boy's cheeks deepened, and the group laughed at this.

Tress surveyed the loner interestingly. He seemed about twelve with wind swept, dirty blonde hair enshrouding a refined face. He dressed like the others, in dark blue, baggy pants with a black tank top and no shoes. On his hands though were silver-lined biker gloves. Around the boy's neck hung a chained dragon amulet while chained clips hung from his pants reaching either side.

"What're you looking at?" asked the elven-year-old, his confidence back with a new victim at his hands. Tress looked to the lanky stranger dully.

"Just your ugly mug I suppose," replied Tress. From what he gathered of these boys, they were city folk. Tress had had to deal with punk kids picking on him back at home. He supposed the same rules applied up here.

Back in Old Esthar some of the breakouts with kids revealed dire consequences including broken limbs, deep wounds, and in some cases, death. There were times when Tress had to be brought to the hospital where his mother worked as a nurse. Part of the reason the boy hadn't gone to school was because of this. In the beginning Tress had been the victim till one day when he finally snapped.

An older boy named Husen was taunting him once more, commenting on his old clothing and pitiful lunch. It wasn't until the Husen had commented on his mother's random breakdowns that Tress lost it. He remembered tackling the bully to the ground before he went into a frenzy of punches, kicks, and bites. When Tress had stood, he went to wipe away the sweat trickling down his face. But when he pulled his arm away, he saw it was blood. He had stared down at horror at the mingled face of Husen. When they rushed the boy to the hospital, they confirmed he'd suffered from a broken jaw, arm, and three ribs. Tress remembered leaning against the back of his bedroom door, listening to father raging about the assault. Husen had had to have thirty stitches in his face. From there Tress had received a restraining order, making the little family move further into the city.

"Hey, are you listening to me, punk?"

Tress snapped back to attention as the bully shoved his shoulder, sending the boy back a few steps. The youth caught his balance, narrowing his eyes at the boy. The group shouted encouragement to their leader.

"Get him, Lafe!"

"Yeah, bash his face in!"

"Teach him he can't talk to you that way!"

The boy against the shop showed no interest, his head bowed. Lafe however sneered down at Tress. "Yeah, yeah, I got him," he told his group.

Lafe shoved both of Tress' shoulders this time. Stumbling back a bit, the boy caught his balance once again, keeping a firm look on his face. The bully looked at Tress uncertainly.

"What? You all mouth and no game?" Still Tress didn't say anything.

At this the loner lifted his head in slight interest as he watched the scene. Lafe made as to shove his victim again. Tress ducked beneath the boy's arms, and turning, kicked out behind Lafe's knees. The bully dropped with an outcry to hands and knees. Tress hovered above Lafe, a determined look creating the wrinkles above his eyes. The mutters from the group stopped abruptly as Tress turned his cold stare on them. Lafe took advantage of this, tripping the stranger. Tress fell forward into Lafe's fist. The bully proceeded to grab a hold of his tank top back, and pulled him up before punching Tress in the jaw now.

Tress fell back with a grunt. Spittle flew as Lafe pressed his foot into the boy's stomach, a grin widening as he did so. More jeers came from the group as the single boy watched in expectation. Leaning towards hi victim, Lafe taunted, "Aww, is punkass giving up already?"

As his torturer leaned closer Tress pulled back before releasing a venom-like reflex. Lafe fell back, struggling to take the saliva from his eyes. This time Tress didn't hesitate He thrashed out with his foot, catching the boy three times in the ribs.

Tress watched the huddled boy for a moment before telling Lafe, "No…I'm all fight and no pushover." The group of boys hurried past the stranger to aid their leader. Tress watched them calmly, his body still tensed.

The loner watched as well before commenting, "Well done." Tress turned to the older boy as he straightened. "I haven't seen something quite like that for a while," he confessed, glancing at the huddled group once more.

"I hate show-offs like that," Tress scowled. "Pushing around the weaker ones. Reminds me of my old home."

"And where's that?"

Tress grimaced as he replied, "Meh, Old Esthar." The boy's eyebrows rose slightly at him.

"Ahh, so you're actually older than I am. Interesting. I've never met an Other before." Tress stared at him uncertainly.

"Other?" he repeated.

"That's what we call you folk," he added, nodding his head. "See," he continued, gesturing to the cobblestone walkway. "The people here reside in a technology more advanced than Earth's. You people there don't realize the benefits we have at our disposal. Here no one's worried about money, or that Lunar Revolver either. Things are a bit on edge, but not too badly." He looked back at the crying Lafe for a moment. "Course, I could be wrong about that…"

"I guess I got carried away," admitted Tress numbly

"Nah," the boy reassured him, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. "He got what was coming to him." Tress only nodded to this. He had an urge to trust this strange new boy. The loner reminder Tress of himself, except calmer.

"I'm Tress," he said after a few moments.

The boy looked him up and down. "Meh," he commented. "I'm just gonna call you Nubs." Tress looked at him in surprise and confusion. "It means roots," the boy explained. "Since you're from Old Esthar and whatnot."

"Oh," said Tress, realization dawning on him. "A nickname then. What can I call you?" The boy gave him a strange look, his mouth twisting at the question.

"Me? I never said I was giving you my name. You just decided to hands me yours, that's all."

"Oh." After another pause, the boy looked as the group ushered an injured Lafe away, glancing back nervously at the pair. "Then again," he added slowly as he watched the group's retreating figures. "You took care of that Lafe boy, who was starting to get on my nerves." Addressing Tress he continued, "Meh, you'll probably end up hearing of me quite a bit anyways. People call me Kiks."

"Kiks," Tress repeated, nodding.

"Well I have to go," the loner told him, sticking his hands in his pockets as he slumped his way slowly down the street.

After a moment Tress called to him, "Will I see you around again?" Kiks only waved back at him. Tress watched the boy in interest thinking that New Esthar was definitely new to him.

When he returned home later that night, it was to fine his grandfather waiting for him in the living room. Selphie had left earlier that day, and despite Laguna's silence, Tress knew he had had a discussion with the woman. After a while the silence was broken when Tress told him about Kiks, leaving out the finer details.

The rest of the week was uneventful. Despite his traveling around the city, Tress didn't learn too much more about it, or meet anyone else. Laguna was busy with work most of the time, leaving his grandson to amuse himself with the television. He didn't seem to have any enthusiasm for the toys and games, though he had taken a liking to board games. When Laguna returned, Tress and him would stay up playing chess. The youth learned the rules quick, and steadily became a better player. After a few days Laguna had admitted defeat, and Tress had to bring the game to the streets, playing against any who challenged.

It wasn't until the last night with his grandfather that something more happened. Laguna brought Tress out to Chivalry Rights and they shared another large meal together. When they finished and were busy enjoying the warm feeling of fulfillment Laguna pulled from beneath the table a wrapped box, handing it to his grandson.

"Here," he said as Tress took it curiously. "I know it isn't much, and it doesn't make up for the years I've been gone, but I thought you might appreciate it."

Unwrapping the present carefully, Tress moved aside the tissue paper, pausing as he saw what lay beneath it. With careful, trembling hands he picked up a small teddy bear made of brown velvet with black patches here and there; a black bead eye hanging half off. Tress looked at his grandfather uncertainly.

"But how—"

"It's not the same one," Laguna told him. "But," he added, putting a finger to his temple. "I remembered I had a picture of you from your parents' friends, holding that bear. You said you missed it, so I had one made from the picture. I thought it might bring you some comfort, even if it's not the same one."

Tress looked down at in slight awe, commenting quietly, "Dad never liked it. He said I was getting too big for stuffed animals." He scoffed slightly, adding, "That was the only one I ever had." Laguna nodded knowingly as tears brimmed Tress' eyes. After another moment, Tress turned to his grandfather, asking, "What's Garden like there? Is it really hard?"

Laguna sighed, admitting, "That's actually the reason I brought you here. I wanted to tell you about the Garden while you still had the chance to back out." Folding his hands before him, the president explained, "Celestial Garden has you take a series of tests and exams, some on paper, others in generated fields in the academy." He paused here for a moment as if choosing his words carefully before continuing, "They keep the best students, and send the others back."

"So how do they combat them in space?" asked Tress, leaning back, holding the bear to his chest.

"Well," replied Laguna slowly. "See they then train you in the art of a type of weaponry that suits you. Should you exceed past that, then you put your skills to the test against the other groups. Beyond that is the real training."

"How long does this usually last again?" Tress felt like he'd been told this before, but his memory was still a bit hazy.

"You told me the average age for you would be sixteen and a half," he replied, the memory coming back to Tress faintly. "Sometimes it takes longer, sometimes not. If you don't make it within a certain age, I believe eighteen, then they send you back."

"So what happens with the last step?"

"You're taught to exert your skills into the meka."

"The machines," Tress simplified with a nod, using the common term.

"Right," Laguna confirmed with a nod. "Except these robots built to fit your body. Whatever actions you take within it, while hooked up of course, will be sent through its wiring, causing it to mimic you. However, they are extremely dangerous, and hundreds die every year just learning to use them."

"How are they organized?"

"They set up squads you see," Laguna explained. "Depending on your skills depends on your position as well as ranking. Tactians are usually set back in a craft, where they can maneuver around the area, giving feedback to the commander. Sometimes, if the commander is skilled enough, they can be the tactian as well. They take great precautions."

"So that's how it works," Tress whispered. Laguna nodded once more. After a moment Tress asked, "When do we receive the formula to still the aging process?"

"When you become an adult." Tress merely nodded once more, staring down at the bear now. After a few moments, Laguna frowned, saying quietly, "You still want to go, don't you?"

"It's not right," Tress told him quietly.

"Are you sure this isn't about vengeance?"

Tress turned to his grandfather, admitting quietly, "Maybe it is, but my father gave up his life for mine. If this was his gift to me, his way of showing me how much he really cared, then I want to use it to prove that I'm more than just a stupid kid."

Laguna nodded, saying, "That's an honorable reason, Tress. I respect your decision, for it's yours to make. I just hope you understand the consequences. I can't stop you, you're too stubborn for that."

"No, I won't let anyone stop me," Tress reassured him. Looking at his bear, he muttered, "After all, I am my father's son."