Author's Note: Standard Disclaimers Apply
How do I always get drawn into these fights? It was supposed to be just training. That's how it always starts, but it never remains that way. Pride, arrogance, and so many other emotions always have us striving to beat the other into submission. Why do I allow Seifer to push me? Squall wondered as he brought his sword up and heard the clash of steel on steel as their gunblades met. Seifer's jade eyes locked on his, filled with intense emotion as sweat rolled down his face and the muscles in his long arms strained to drive Squall backward.
"You're nothing!" Seifer yelled at him, fury whispering along each word. Squall ignored him, instead driving all of his weight forward and forcing the larger boy back several steps.
"Too afraid to speak?" Seifer challenged as they broke apart, both breathing heavily and bodies aching. Squall's jaw locked against the angry words threatening to spill from his lips. No, that was what Seifer was craving. He wanted Squall to lose control.
Why? What do you want from me? Squall's body tensed, his grip tightening around the gunblade's revolver. It didn't matter. He wouldn't allow Seifer to continue his games.
"You're a coward!" Seifer ground out, gunblade lifting so that the blade pointed out like an accusing finger. Squall's eyes narrowed as Seifer's body suddenly stiffened. Seconds later Seifer was charging at Squall, his gunblade cutting viciously through the air and arching toward him.
Squall met his attack, pride driving him as his gunblade slashed out. Seifer's body slammed against his, throwing Squall back. Squall caught his balance, gray eyes narrowing as a smirk spread across Seifer's face and Seifer tauntingly beckoned him with his free hand. A superior looking down on his subordinate.
Damn you, Squall swore silently, rushing forward. Seifer extended his palm toward Squall, his dark green eyes gloating as flames leapt to life in his hand. As if in slow motion, Squall saw what was happening, knew what Seifer was planning, but was unable to protect himself as the flames slammed into his chest and threw him onto the ground.
Squall rolled, smothering the flames before rising painfully onto his knees and struggling to regain the breath that had been stolen from him as he lifted his shocked gaze. His eyes widened as Seifer's gunblade slashed downward toward his face.
Fire-hot pain exploded through Squall as the blade cut into his face's delicate skin. Blood spilled down his nose as his body jerked sideways. His eyes landed on the gunblade and suddenly his hand was around the revolver, fury driving him as the blade dragged across the ground in its upward spiral and slashed across Seifer's face, mirroring the wound he had been dealt.
Seifer staggered back, one hand covering the wound as Squall's gunblade fell to the ground. His hand flew away, covered in blood, as he stepped threateningly forward. He froze, seeing the younger boy sprawled across the ground with blood staining the clay dirt beneath him.
"Bastard…," he swore as fury shifted into guilt.
Why the Hell had he purposely injured the other gunblader? He stumbled forward and bent, ignoring the stinging cut as he slipped an arm around the limp body and tossed the lighter boy over his shoulder. He winced, already hearing the lectures and threats. Maybe Cid would really expel him this time?
Seifer shook his head, sighing. Too late to worry about it now. He couldn't just leave Squall to bleed to death, and it wasn't like they wouldn't know who had fought Squall. Who at Garden didn't know of their rivalry or the other fights they had gotten into? Hell, anytime they were in the same area, crowds gathered expecting their fights.
But having an audience wasn't what prompted Seifer to start the fights. It was Squall, and always had been him. Squall Leonhart with unbreakable control and capable of ignoring him. Ignoring Seifer Almasy! No one ignored him, especially not a seventeen year old who seemed intent on surpassing him. In all of Garden, only one other cadet had chosen a gunblade as a weapon. A direct challenge, even if Squall seemed oblivious to it.
How could they not become rivals?
It wasn't Seifer's fault. Squall was just as much to blame as him, and he didn't catch half as much grief as Seifer did. Seifer was always being scolded while Squall slipped into the shadows.
Seifer glanced at the unconscious boy. How could anyone be content staying in the background? He couldn't understand Squall, which seemed to draw him even more to the boy, urging him to force Squall to drop the mask he wore. Squall would never do that, not unless he lost complete control.
And he almost had, Seifer thought, smirking. As the gunblade slashed across his face, Seifer had seen something strange and unfamiliar in Squall's eyes. Rage. Emotion. Real emotion.
Despite the price he had paid, Seifer was pleased. A scar was worth seeing Squall, even if for just a moment, freed of his control and reacting to Seifer. And now that he had seen that Squall was capable of reacting, he would keep pushing until Squall could do nothing but react, no matter how much they both had to suffer in the end.
Author's Note: Reviews are much appreciated.
