A Promising Young SeeD
Chapter 7
Mister Impossible
Quistis hadn't been sure what to expect when she agreed to doing things Seifer's way. But sitting in a chair while Raijin carefully braided extensions into her hair was certainly not what she was expecting.
"You need to move into my place. They watch my doors, I'm sure of it. You'll pose as my new girl."
Quistis raised an eyebrow. "What, like you're my pimp?"
Seifer stuttered slightly. "No, gods, Quistis, these are all high-class, powerful people were dealing with here."
"So, I'm posing as your girlfriend?" The thought made her involuntarily blush. Being back around Seifer, even for a short time, had reminded her of buried feelings that had lingered for years. Feelings that she had been reminded of as her memories had returned. The pleasurable thorn in her side.
"No. You're my trophy." He said it so casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
And so she found herself being made over by Raijin. Into something worthy of a golden trophy of one of the most powerful men in Esthar.
"I'd much rather go for the wig, personally. But, you can save those costumes for the bedroom." Seifer's grin was wicked and practically shit-eating. He was getting far too much pleasure out of this idea.
"Seifer—" Quistis warned.
"Look. They can't suspect you. All that shit you and Chicken-wuss were pulling? I was onto it, which meant they might have sniffed something. They have to know I have complete control over you. That you're mine."
This idea was becoming less appealing by the minute.
"You guys made them nervous. They suspect everyone. You need to be beautiful and stupid. Able to flirt, but most importantly, completely loyal to me. A beautiful trophy that they all want but can't have. Eventually one of them will come for you, and that's when we strike. Figure out who is in charge. It only goes a little farther above me."
"So you are going to pimp me out?" Quistis put her hands on her hips, her voice unnaturally high.
"What is it with you and pimps? No. But you can get close. And listen. They won't suspect you. You're dumb, pretty, and breathe only when I say to."
She sighed audibly.
"This is only going to work if you trust me, Trepe."
"I guess I have no choice."
"How do you know how to do hair?" Quistis tried to stay still as Raijin tugged painfully at her roots.
"My sister, ya know?" Raijin was trying to be as gentle as possible, but given what he was doing, there wasn't much to be done. "Was a hairdresser."
"I didn't know you have a sister."
"Had," he added softly.
"Oh…" Quistis bit her lip, not asking the unspoken question.
"Island Closest to Heaven. Used to be populated, ya know. Then they started experimenting with GF there. Kicked all the locals off. See if the GFs were as destructive as they thought, ya know? Well, those that stayed didn't do too well."
"I'm sorry—" It felt like a lame statement. It all came back to the GFs.
"There. Extensions in. Long luscious locks. What color do you think?"
"Um…"
"I got an idea, ya know. Let me take care of it."
As Raijin started to put bleach in her hair and Quistis desperately tried not to itch it or complain, Seifer and Zell appeared at the threshold.
Seifer had helped Zell sneak most of his equipment out of their apartment. Part of the deal of posing as Seifer's girl was having her living at his apartment. Seifer also claimed it made more sense for them to all be under one roof. Zell was posing as a new bodyguard.
In reality, after a lot of argument, and finally Raijin stepping in and convincing Seifer, Zell had set up his spectroscopy set in Fujin's unused bedroom. He only needed two laptops for his hacking, so that was a non-issue. Seifer had stayed cagey as to the identity of his own hacker, but assured Zell that he would put them in touch electronically as long as all contact remained anonymous.
The only rule was that no one touch Fujin's never-used bed. Waiting for her to come back. Never used since they moved into the apartment. So Zell would have to sleep on the floor, which was fine by him. Not so fine by Quistis. That left her the couch in the living room, and she couldn't sleep alone anymore.
Seifer's apartment was nothing short of amazing. Then again, if he was "one of the most powerful men in Esthar," as he put it, the apartment should reflect that. It was all aesthetic, though. The place had no personality. All hat, no cowboy, as Irvine would say. Designed to look impressive and expensive. A penthouse with three bedrooms, an entertainment room, two-story ceilings and glass walls. A patio with a private swimming pool. A view of the entirety of Esthar.
A king at the top of his kingdom.
There were absolutely zero personal touches. Quistis suspected that was on purpose. Because, this wasn't really who they were, or what they were about.
Make-believe. Just as she had been doing for months.
At least the couch was high-quality and comfortable. Probably cost what Quistis and Zell paid a month for their flat across town.
After rinsing the dye from her hair, Raijin helped her style it into waves that crashed to her bottom. She had never had hair as long or thick as this, and was at a loss as to what to do with it. As he was styling her hair in the second bathroom, she could hear Zell and Seifer arguing in the living room.
"Come on, man, tell me who hacked for you!"
"No way, Chicken-wuss. Like I said, you can talk to them over some coded shit you guys figure out, but I ain't telling you shit. It's safer that way."
"Dude!"
"Look, you figured out how to clone this shit, or code it, or break it down or whatever… you focus on that. While you're at it—use that machine and tell me what's in this bag. I have a suspicion, but…"
"What the fuck is this? Weird color, man… pale green?"
"Extremely high-end street drug. You would have never seen it. Use your stupid machine, and—"
"Hey, asshole! This is a homemade spectroscopy machine, in a lab it would cost—"
Their voices were drowned out by Raijin turning on the hair dryer.
Quistis eyed herself in the mirror, not really recognizing the reflection staring back at her. Wavy platinum blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders to her hips. Raijin had added a few small braids scattered throughout, telling her that was how the island girls wore it. Long, perfect hair that took years of care and work to achieve. She ran her fingers through the extensions. The hair was real human hair too. Expensive.
Her inspection was interrupted by Seifer's voice.
"You don't have anything nice enough to go shopping in!" Seifer called from his bedroom of all places. Apparently, he had stopped arguing with Zell.
She stepped out of the bathroom and walked down the loft stairs to find him in his bedroom, her duffle on his bed, tossing clothing left and right, including her unmentionables.
"Seifer!"
"Don't you at least have some of those stupid tights that women wear but don't actually work out in and cost stupid money?"
"What-?"
"I suppose this will have to do." He shoved some leggings and a newer sports bra in her hands. "Just pretend you came from Pilates or some shit. Put your hair in a ponytail."
"…" Quistis wasn't sure how to respond. She mutely grabbed the clothing from him and headed into the bathroom attached to his bedroom to change.
"Raijin!" Seifer's voice barked from behind the door.
"Yeah, boss?"
"Take her shopping. We can't work with any of this crap she has here. Make sure they know she's with me."
Quistis stepped out from the bathroom, her arms unconsciously folding over herself in embarrassment. She was wearing tight capri leggings and nothing but a strappy sports bra that barely supported her chest. She certainly wouldn't actually work out in this. "Why am I not wearing a shirt?"
"Gods, Trepe, don't you get i—" Seifer stopped as he finally looked at Quistis. Really looked at her. His pupils dilated just slightly as he drank her in.
"Shit. This is actually going to work. You look… I mean, you always look…" he cleared his throat, turning to cough into his hand. "Anyway, like I was saying. Trepe, you're supposed to be an aspiring model or actress or some shit. Your job is to look hot. But classy."
She understood. She had dressed in far more skimpy outfits when preying on targets in Phantasmagoria. But this was different. This was in the daylight in front of Seifer. In his bedroom.
"Why can't I be an aspiring graduate student at Esthar University?" He could at least give her a backstory she could connect more with.
"Graduate stu—Raijin!" Seifer called again, before hunching down beneath his bed and fiddling with something underneath. "The only reason a girl like you would be in school is if you were trying to get an M.R.S degree."
"M.R.S?" It took Quistis a moment to put together what Seifer was saying.
"You're after power and money, ya know? Not the drugs. You're trying to land a rich powerful man. Someone to take care of you. The girls upstairs at Phantasmagoria are different. Expensive." Raijin supplied from the doorway.
Disgusting. But not surprising. Powerful men often wanted to surround themselves with beautiful younger women.
"You think fifty should do it?" Seifer called from his position under the bed.
"Fifty gil should get me a decent dress, I suppose." Quistis mused. She had never spent more on herself than that.
Seifer stood from the ground, barking out a dismissive laugh and handing Raijin a substantial wad of cash. More cash than Quistis had ever seen in her life. "Fifty gil won't even cover the tip to your hairstylist, Trepe."
"Fifty thousand should get a decent start, boss."
This was all starting to settle on Quistis. The reality of it all. The fact that the amount of money involved in this was far more than she had ever realized. How little of the surface they had really scratched.
Hell, Seifer's entire apartment must be a drop in the well compared to how much money he had squirreled away. Then again, it seemed like he was the only game in town. All the drugs stemmed from him. It was a matter of figuring out where his supplier got them. He was the middle-man to all the lower dealers. How far up did this go? Seifer seemed to imply that the people above him were very different than what she was picturing.
She had been picturing crime bosses, the lowest of the low, scummy men in dirty apartments with a team packing bags in a room nearby. Not high-end clothing and penthouse suites. Who were these people?
Trying to remain composed, Quistis cleared her throat. "Shouldn't we get my back story straight?"
"None of these guys give a shit about your backstory and neither would I. They aren't keeping you around for conversation and aren't going to remember a thing you say. As long as you keep your story straight, that's all that matters," Seifer shrugged. It wasn't said in his normal asshole-way. More matter of fact.
When Quistis huffed and frowned, he walked over to her, rubbing his hands along her arms, almost as if he was trying to warm her up. All it did was cause more goosebumps to raise on her skin. His closeness made her shiver.
"You're going to do fine. You're a trophy. A perfect golden trophy that we hope someone wants to snatch from under my nose. You were on the right track in Phantasmagoria—just going after the wrong types of guys. As far as you're concerned—"
He cleared his throat and Raijin left the room, taking the hint, closing the door behind him.
Seifer moved closer to her, pushing some hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. "You really do look good. Never pictured you like this. Kind of hot." He cast her a cocky grin, twirling one of the small braids Raijin had put in her hair in his fingers.
She cracked a small smile at that. Something in knowing that he had her back was a relief. Seifer always seemed invincible. A balustrade against any massive storm. Being with him made those around feel the same way. It was no wonder his posse were so loyal. Even as children at the orphanage, it was always them against the world. Seifer and Quistis, the eldest, the defacto parents, the leaders. How times had changed, and yet they had remained the same.
Cupping her face in his hands, Seifer met her eyes seriously. Quistis was surprised that she allowed the intimate gesture. Then again, if she was going to pose as his girlfriend, she was going to have to get used to him touching her like this. A wicked part of her admitted to herself that she might welcome it. It was oddly comforting, more like a touch from a comrade-in-arms before entering battle than anything sensual.
"As far as you're concerned… I'm your whole universe. I'm the fucking water you walk on and the air you breath. You need me as much as I like how you make me look. I have to be possessive but not overly-attached. Understand?"
She gulped, a lump in her throat forming. "Got it."
"People are commodities, just like the drugs. I want you to be the greatest commodity out there."
Quistis was finally beginning to understand this world. People were nothing more than things. And she was a beautiful thing that sold herself to the highest bidder. Hoping to cling to the top.
"But you can't seem anything but completely loyal to me. You need me more than you've ever needed anything. We can say I found you in some bar in Dollet and you moved to Esthar trying to make it big here."
"Eventually, hopefully, one of them will come to me and ask for you. When that happens…"
xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
A week after Raijin had taken her shopping for the first time, he dragged her shopping again, and this time Seifer tagged along.
She hadn't seen much of Seifer since moving into his apartment. He was often gone at night, and during the day he sometimes went to the hospital. She had left the apartment daily, in some expensive outfit. Seifer made sure she was seen in town with Raijin. Whether it be to a store, or to pretend to look at jewelry, or designer bags, or sitting in a café and trying to look bored.
Seifer was different. More reserved. More quiet. Not that Quistis was surprised. After what had happened to him. To all of them.
Slowly she began to notice things. They were in the high-end shopping district of Esthar, Raijin's arms full of bags, including a rather embarrassing purchase of extremely revealing and expensive lingerie that Seifer bought for her.
Seifer had dragged her into the store, the workers handing her about a dozen small lacy ensembles and shoved her into a dressing room with a glass of champagne and Seifer behind her. Apparently, she was expected to put on a show for him. He had remained a gentleman and just told her to pretend, but that they were going to have to buy something and make it look like she had left him very happy.
So they played a few games of triple triad on the dressing room floor and he would whistle every once and a while and she would let out a coquettish giggle asking which one he liked better.
People seemed to know him, or if they didn't know him, they knew he was important. Seifer had always commanded a room and carried himself with a certain air, and that hadn't changed, but the immediate deference to him was palpable. It wasn't just the expensive shoes and watches either. Was it the tattoo?
There were plenty of other beautiful women shopping there as well, and all of their eyes were staring at her and Seifer. They looked at him like he was something to be devoured. They would look at her and whisper, irritated looks on their faces.
A few of these women were currently sitting at a table nearby whispering. Seifer had disappeared under the excuse of getting coffee and had been gone a while, leaving her with just Raijin at the table. Uncomfortable silence was their companion.
An arm reached over her shoulder and plopped an iced coffee in front of her, a welcome reprieve from the Esthar heat. Some sort of cold tea was placed in front of Raijin.
Before Quistis could say thank you, she felt Seifer's mouth close to her ear. "People are watching. Stop acting like you're about to jump out of your seat every time I come near you," he whispered, before pushing her hair to the side and placing an opened mouth kiss on her neck.
Holy hell. That wasn't supposed to feel good.
She could feel him straighten behind her and announce, louder than necessary, that he had business and had to leave, but he would see her at home. He then dropped a small bag directly next to her iced coffee before leaning down and kissing her on the cheek. As she reached to open the bag, she could hear him whistling some jaunty tune as he walked away, hands stuffed in his pockets casually.
The bag contained a gallingly expensive watch. Beautiful, but impractical. She put it on anyway. The whispers of the women watching them turned to angry hisses, and they were downright glaring at her.
Raijin remained ever cool, calm, and collected. The consummate professional. What he said, though, was unexpected. "So, boss showed you his tattoo, huh?"
He lifted up his arm and tugged back his sleeve to reveal a tattoo in the same place as Seifer's, but his was Pandemona. "Marks us as important, ya know? People got to know us as the guys with GF tattoos, ya know? Know not to mess with us. To give us what we want."
Quistis still didn't understand why Seifer had chosen Odin of all things. The Guardian Force he had once sliced in half.
"He had it bad during the clinical trials, ya know?" Raijin continued. "They strapped him down to a gurney and forced stuff in his veins. Really messed up his arm. Bad scarring."
Quistis remained quiet, staring at the iced coffee in her hands, focusing on the condensation slipping down the plastic container.
"Had him tied down for hours at a time. Months. He had lots of nightmares, ya know. Afterwards…" Raijin shook his head, stopping his thoughts.
"Afterwards?" Quistis prompted, trying to sound as casual as possible.
"He always told us about the orphanage, ya know? Said you guys were real jerks for not remembering him."
It wasn't personal. Seifer had to realize that now. Some of his vitriol made more sense.
"Afterwards he said… he realized how bad the GFs were. Messed you up. Odin reminds him that even a GF can be killed. To never forget what they took. Remember the war."
The war was hardly something she wanted to remember, she wasn't sure why Seifer would want to remember any of it either. His version of events was far more tragic than hers.
Raijin sighed, crossing his arms. "What do you think happened to them?"
"To what?"
"The GFs? I mean, they aren't dead, right? Where are they? What happened when they took them out?"
Quistis blinked. In all of her frustration, and being drugged, and then Selphie, she had never bothered to wonder that. "I—I don't know."
"Sure makes you wonder, ya know?"
It sure did. Quistis pressed her lips to the rim of the cup, and the floating cubes of crushed ice made her tongue tingle and numbness spread throughout her mouth.
There were out there. Somewhere. They had to be. But what could it mean?
beta: the lovely colobonema
