~ Chapter Thirty-One - Coming Clean ~
[Seifer Almasy's Apartment, Zayin House, Monday, 27th of October, 10:11 pm]
Idling around restlessly, reading unimportant emails just to be doing something, Squall waited. His uniform was up on its hanger, immaculately pressed, awaiting the next day. He'd already packed everything he thought he could need for the trip, along with the new gear he'd purchased. All documents for Tuesday's meeting were read and double-checked. He had nothing left to do but see who arrived first.
As he reread the same line for the third time, the ring of his cell phone jerked him from his thoughts. One glance at the display had him steeling himself.
"Quistis."
"What's the apartment number?"
So she was already here. In the lobby no doubt. For some reason, he didn't like the thought of letting her into Seifer's home without the man there. But letting her wait outside definitely wasn't going to help their case either.
"905," he offered reluctantly.
Without a word of acknowledgment, Quistis hung up. Releasing a sigh, Squall closed his laptop and waited for the knock on the door that would set things in motion.
Rising from his chair when the curt rap finally sounded, he assumed an even expression and opened the door. Quistis's narrow-eyed gaze immediately honed in on him, most likely registering things nobody else would. She looked haggard—the way people usually looked after an eight hour train ride—a large overnight bag slung over her shoulders, but she certainly didn't seem any less fierce for it.
After a tense moment of not knowing whether or not she'd actually punch him, Quistis put him out of his misery and broke the silence.
"I see your things reached you fine," she said coolly, jerking her head to indicate his clothes.
"...I picked them up yesterday," Squall replied slowly, not mistaking the harmless statement for a peace offer.
"Are you going to let me in?"
Remembering himself, he stepped out of the way and granted the woman access. He watched her closely as she stepped into the middle of the room and set her bag on the ground. Her eyes traveled the room, a faint quirk to her eyebrow betraying the apartment was not what she'd expected.
"Where is he?"
"He'll be home from work soon."
Looking away from where his laptop and work bag were sitting on the coffee table, she turned to regard him with a frown. She seemed to mull over his words, probably trying to imagine Seifer in a non-Garden setting; the way he'd struggled to imagine it at first too.
"What does he do?"
"Something you can ask him when you have your talk," Squall said evenly. He wanted to get it through her head somehow that this didn't have to be an interrogation; that it could be a reunion.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Spare me the attitude, Squall. I'll ask him exactly what I need to ask."
"This is his home. His life. He doesn't have to talk to you, but he will." He looked at her imploringly. "Give him the benefit of the doubt."
At his words, Squall was relieved to see her piercing gaze make way for a softer expression; the frown and exasperated shake of the head she reserved for when he'd done something particularly aggravating, but not unforgivable. Sighing, she stepped closer to him; another good sign. She didn't make any promises however.
"You look good," she said softly, almost as if it was an offense. "Much better than what Odine's test results had me expecting."
"It's just magical damage at this point."
"Just," she huffed, her temper still quick to stir. "I can't believe the situations you get yourself into. Do you have any sense of self-preservation?" Picking up steam, she vented her frustration. "What kind of person reacts to assaults on their life by moving in with their attackers? First Rinoa, and now this. It's like you want to get hurt."
Meeting her anger head-on, Squall didn't miss a beat. "Neither of them wanted to hurt me. I won't abandon someone because a sorceress messed up their lives."
"You're impossible!" she burst out, only to immediately reel herself in again with visible effort.
"Too late for the party?"
Turning to the front door, Squall cursed inwardly as he saw Seifer standing beyond the doorway, Kronos in one hand and a duffel bag in the other. He'd hoped to have more time with Quistis, to ease her into a more tolerant mood. He warily kept his eye on the two as they stared each other down.
Opening her mouth as if to say something but seemingly thinking better of it, Quistis only slowly regained her composure. "You didn't change a bit," she finally said, her deadpan tone making it impossible to judge the statement either as observation or insult, but Squall recognized the familiar tension that stiffened her shoulders from the many times they'd been in the field together. As if she was assessing a potential threat.
"Neither did you, it'd seem," Seifer said, dropping his duffel bag to the floor and closing the door behind him. Walking over to the kitchen counter, he put down Kronos before facing his new guest. "So, dear Instructor, what brings you here?"
The cutting use of her former title, just as lacking in respect as it had ever been, told Quistis everything she needed to know. The man was going to turn this into a battle. To think that for a second she had hoped Squall's assertions about her one-time student would be true; that Seifer was a changed man. She drew herself up to her full length.
"I'm here to find out why Squall has been lying to me about everything that happened these past six months," she replied stonily. "You happen to be part of the lie and I'm not so sure I've heard everything there is to hear."
"I guess I'm in for a show then," Seifer commented, looking from Quistis to Squall, who was trying to shut him up with a foreboding stare. "Who'd you like to grill first then? Or was that what I just interrupted?"
"Can I take that to mean you're volunteering?" Quistis asked sweetly, her eyes flashing. "Because I have a lot of questions. You see, there are these coincidences I have trouble wrapping my head around." She squared her shoulders, stepping closer. "Like say, Squall avoids the very memory of you for years, but suddenly you're his new best friend. I'm sure this has nothing to do with the rough time he's going through, or the fact Rinoa ditched him the moment you showed up." Getting fired up, she plowed on. "Let's see. What would be most in line with the past? Caring friend, or traitor with a grudge?"
"Fuck you too, Trepe," Seifer said, his voice seething. "I didn't even want to take Squall in because I didn't think he should ever have to look at me again. I hate what I did. I. Hate. My. Fucking. Past," he barked out, his posture rigid. "Are you getting this?" he demanded angrily. "I would never do a fucking thing to hurt him."
"Convenient revelation—"
"Quistis," Squall warned, moving to intervene
" —after the facts, Almasy."
"QUISTIS!" Squall stared down her defiant gaze. "This isn't why I called you," he reminded her with coolly controlled anger.
Quistis squared her jaw as she stared at Squall in disbelief. The man rarely raised his voice and to find herself as its recipient for the first time was unsettling. She looked between the two men, united in their displeasure with her. Losing some of her defiance along with her certainty, she shifted her focus to the livid ex-knight. The genuine hurt she saw in his expression caused her to falter further.
"Old habits die hard," she finally said, her voice tempered but not exactly apologetic. "I didn't come here to fight. I came for answers."
As Quistis's temper visibly deflated, so did Seifer's. He hadn't been able to help himself, not with the scene he'd walked in on, but he hadn't meant to antagonize.
"...She's right," he said in belated agreement. What she'd said was right at the crux of his burden. "It is fucking convenient for me to just come along and say that. I have no proof, no physical way of showing any of this." He looked over at Squall. "You're convinced I was mind controlled, but I just don't know. I have no fucking clue. All I can do is tell the truth." He returned his gaze to Quistis. "So if Quistis wants to know what's been going on, I'll give her that," he said with as much calm as he could muster, even though part of him balked at having to explain any of it to the aggravating woman in front of him. "Even if she's being rude as fuck to get it."
Unsure whether he liked this sudden compliance, Squall looked from Seifer's stony expression to the twitch of Quistis's brow. The woman was reigning herself in admirably at the promise of information, for once not snapping back.
"All I want is some honesty," Quistis said, forcibly uncrossing her arms to seem more welcoming.
Seifer nodded. "Okay," he said as he looked at the two most intense people he'd ever met. One was waiting for answers, the other warning him with an intent look not to say too much. He had to suppress a grimace. "Anyone want a drink before we start?"
Shooting Seifer a wary glance, Squall shook his head. He'd prefer for all of them to be as far from inebriated as possible, lest unnecessary things were said. Predictably, Quistis refused as well. Whenever the woman was on someone's case she was like a bloodhound. All focus, no leeway.
Watching as Seifer proceeded to pour himself some whiskey, Squall sat down on the couch with a sigh. After a shared glance with Quistis, he gestured for the woman to join him and sit down too. The atmosphere was already uncomfortable enough without everybody staring each other down with hostile postures.
As his old instructor sat down on the couch as well, Seifer brought the glass he'd just filled to his lips. With a large gulp, he steeled himself. "So what do you want to know?"
Quistis eyed the distance Seifer had left between them, the man's expression so carefully collected it might as well have been Squall. She couldn't remember the last time Seifer had taken anything serious at all, but here he was, looking contemplative of all things.
"How about we start two weeks ago," she suggested, unsure what to expect. She still wasn't entirely convinced Seifer had nothing to do with Squall and Rinoa suddenly breaking their bond. She hadn't forgotten Seifer's fling with the girl. There could be resentment there, even if she didn't understand what either of them could possibly see in the exasperating sorceress.
Rounding the corner of the kitchen counter, Seifer leaned back against it, the glass of whiskey cool against his fingers. He looked between his two guests again, then took another swig.
"I first saw Squall at a nightclub. Wednesday night, two weeks ago."
As Seifer started recounting the events of that evening, Squall quickly lost hope that for once Seifer would have the sense to censure himself. The man had always been a loose cannon and this time was no different. Conveniently leaving out his own reasons for being there, Seifer told Quistis every damning detail of what had happened at the nightclub, including how Rinoa had slapped him and left with someone else.
"She did what?" Quistis interrupted, looking to Squall for confirmation. The brunet's scowl said it all. "Please tell me that wasn't a recurring thing."
Unenthused, Squall met her with a deadpan gaze, not about to elaborate. Seifer had better get to the point if it meant breaching his privacy like this.
Quistis's eyes darkened. "All those times I called to ask about you two and you didn't think to mention Rinoa was cheating on you?"
Squall frowned at the woman interpreting his silence as confirmation. "We split up months ago."
"Rinoa sure still treated you as her boyfriend until recently. You were still bonded, for Hyne's sake." Quistis shook her head in outrage. "This is why I worry about you, Squall."
Needing the topic closed, Squall steeled his gaze.
"Have it your way then," Quistis said with narrowed eyes. "I was still meaning to pay Rinoa a visit anyway."
Squall winced inwardly at that. Ever since their move to Esthar and the incident that had precipitated it, Quistis's opinion of Rinoa had dropped to an abysmal low; something he'd always found undeserved. He should warn Rinoa, but the thought of calling her after how he'd left things between them… Suppressing a frown, he tuned back into the conversation, just in time to look up and find Seifer's eyes resting on him.
"He spent the night, but we didn't settle things till the following evening. Squall left after that... I don't think either of us imagined we'd ever see each other again."
At the memory of just how final that night had felt to him as well, Squall frowned but forced himself to listen as Seifer began telling Quistis of how they'd found him at the Skyway Inn. He hadn't wanted to know nearly as much as what was being said and he could only cringe at every last embarrassing detail.
Seifer lost some of his steam as he came to the part where Quistis would probably throw a fit. "Rinoa didn't want to risk bringing him home because of their newly broken bond. She wasn't sure she'd be able to control herself. The only other option was Garden." He paused, but met the woman's gaze head-on. "Rinoa suggested me."
"Rinoa suggested you," Quistis repeated with a calm she didn't feel. That girl had ruined so much, causing Squall's move away from Balamb and her watchful eye. And now this. "Care to tell me how you two figured Garden shouldn't be involved? A KO'd SeeD Commander and I'm the last to know about it?"
"I know how Garden handled Squall in the past," Seifer said, his eyes narrowing at Quistis's indignation. "And I know how Squall handles Garden. He wouldn't have let anyone help him. He wouldn't have told anyone a thing. I didn't give him a choice."
Quistis face drew into stark displeasure at Seifer's words. "I wonder if that's how Squall sees it," she said almost blandly, her gaze flicking to the frowning brunet for a moment. "I think it must be a lot easier misleading one person than the whole of Garden. Someone he shares a certain disregard for health and safety with."
"I'm not about to regret my decision," Seifer said, squaring his jaw. "Squall is doing a lot better."
"How like you to take credit for that," Quistis said derisively. "Never mind Odine's pills and research. It must be your wholesome influence." Her gaze hardened in determination. "Since he's doing so much better, I'm sure you'll agree it's about time he returns to where he belongs."
Immediately tensing up at the words, Seifer spoke through his teeth. "That's up to Squall to decide," he said, glancing over at the man in question. "And I didn't say it was the right decision or my influence, just that you or anyone else won't make me regret it."
"I'm confused, Seifer," Quistis baited. "Which is it now? Up to Squall to decide, or you not giving him a choice?"
"It's my decision," Squall finally interrupted from the sideline, scowling as he looked between Quistis and Seifer. He was right there, but that didn't seem to bother either of them. As if he could be made to stay anywhere against his wishes. "I'm not going back," he announced, fed up with sidetracking from the point any further. "Not yet. We are making the trip to Galbadia. Everything else can wait."
At the statement that left no room for argument, Quistis was dumbfounded. Never, not once, had she needed to remind Squall of his duties at Garden. His priorities had never wavered, the man always where he needed to be. Unprecedented as this was, it made her more than a little nervous. And all because of Seifer.
She shook her head in disbelief. "So that's it? You can't even tell me when you'll return to Garden?"
"This is more important," Squall replied, unbending.
"This is ridiculous," Quistis muttered. "For years I try to get you two to be civil…" Her brow set into a deep frown. "Can we at least agree that this—" She waved her hands between them "—is inconsistent as hell?"
Seifer huffed. "Don't think anyone would argue with you on that," he said, but his eyes didn't leave Squall. The man had just prioritized him over Garden, and wouldn't even make a promise of when he'd return. It took all his willpower not to jump Squall right then and there.
Quistis shook her head, unable to process any of it. Even if Squall had clearly made up his mind, the fact that the man had lied to her for months still remained. Years of friendship, discounted so easily.
"Go then," she said, her words clipped. "Nothing I say or do means anything anyway. You don't tell me anything. You actually summarized a trainwreck of a breakup and days of unconsciousness as I broke the bond." The continued disregard for her side of things was starting to wear her down. "It's insulting, Squall. I thought we were past this."
"So because we're friends, I'm not entitled to a private life," came the beyond exasperating reply.
"That's not fair and you know it," Quistis replied, her tone gaining more bite. "Do you think we'll go running if we discover your life's not perfect? That you're not perfect? Newsflash, Squall, that cat's long out of the bag." She looked at him evenly, the corners of her mouth sloped downwards. "If I come across as pushy, that's because the only way to get even near you is to get in your face. You don't acknowledge anything less!"
At the outpour of too personal words in Seifer's presence, Squall frowned. He hated it when she managed to make him feel guilty like this; like a lousy friend.
"Yet forcing Squall to talk has never really gotten anyone anywhere, has it?" Seifer supplied from the sidelines. "Don't tell me you actually expected him to sit down and have a heart to heart with you about his relationship. You're not that stupid."
"Says the man who made a hobby out of getting Squall to react," Quistis retorted angrily at the interruption. She narrowed her eyes. "Don't you dare tell me you'd put up with this kind of treatment."
"I wouldn't. But I wouldn't expect him to talk about his relationship either. Or how incredibly stupidly he handled the breaking of the bond."
Scowling at the contradicting words, she glared at Seifer before looking Squall's way again. "Incredibly stupid, indeed," she said lowly. "How long were you unconscious for in that hotel? Two days? Three?"
Meeting her unwavering gaze, Squall didn't reply, not inclined to set himself up for an endless debate.
"Did Seifer have to carry you of the room? Do you even remember anything?"
Squall's expression darkened, but again he refused to take the bait.
"I'm just trying to understand here, Squall, because if it's pride that made you go hide by yourself, then I'd say your plan backfired spectacularly. So next time you're in trouble, personal or not, I'd suggest making a phone call. Me. Laguna. Anyone. Hell, call Rinoa and still you'll lose less face than you managed now."
When she was met with stubborn silence once again, Quistis sighed. Squall had thrown up his walls. Nothing would reach the man now. Still she couldn't help herself from making one last plea. "Being friends means we share our worst moments along with our best. From birthdays to break-ups." She looked at him earnestly. "You need to let people in."
Seifer rolled his eyes. "Enough with the fucking lecturing already," he said, more than fed up with Quistis telling Squall how to act. "Just make sure you know what the fuck is going on in his life and be there when the shit hits the fan. Simple as that."
At the interruption, Quistis turned to jab a finger in Seifer's direction. "You need to keep the sideline comments to yourself," she snapped, her lips a thin line. "This is between Squall and me." Making to face Squall again, she changed her mind and turned back.
"And did I just hear that right? Simply be there when the shit hits the fan?!" She glared at Seifer openly, her voice incredulous. "I guess I could just consult my crystal ball next time," she sneered. "Tell me. How did you manage to be there, huh? As I recall, the only reason you know anything is because Rinoa chose to save her own skin instead of calling me or Laguna first."
"Stop twisting and manipulating every word I say and start listening instead," Seifer spoke heatedly as he took a step closer. "Squall and I weren't ever supposed to see each other again. You were supposed to be his friend."
Quistis's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Oh, I'll happily correct both mistakes and take him off your hands."
"Selective. Fucking. Hearing. That's Squall's decision. Not yours!"
Squall huffed. For all decisions to apparently be his, he'd had very little say in the argument unfolding before him. "Here's another decision then," he interrupted before Quistis could voice whatever insult was forming on her lips. "I can fight my own battles. Let me deal with this."
"Fine," Seifer said, not caring to stay a moment longer. The woman was a fucking pain in the ass. "You two sort this shit out. I'll be in the other room." He knocked back the remainder of the alcohol and left the empty glass on the kitchen counter. Grabbing Kronos and his duffel bag, he stalked to the bedroom.
Releasing a sigh, Squall moved his gaze from the bedroom door to Quistis.
"Oh, don't you dare be pissed at me," she countered his withering look.
"Like I said, this is not what I called you for."
Quistis scowled at him. "I know perfectly well why you called me, Squall. A preemptive confession before I'd find out by myself."
Squall frowned at the seemingly endless accusations. "I was going to return after breaking the bond. Tell you once I was back."
"So I was demoted from being told after the facts to being told way after the facts. Either way, that's too late."
"The bond was my problem and it's been dealt with," Squall snapped impatiently. "I wasn't planning to hide it. Things changed when Rinoa involved Seifer."
"Ah, right, I remember now. You called me because of Seifer. Because he didn't want to come between us, was it?" She cast him a derisive look. "How exactly did Seifer change things that you suddenly thought it was necessary to sneak behind my back?" Cutting him off before he could even attempt an explanation, she added sharply, "And don't try to tell me it was to protect Seifer from Garden or me. Maybe Laguna didn't know we'd honor the exemption, but you do. The bastard's practically family, for Hyne's sake."
Squall quirked an eyebrow at the first hopeful words to leave Quistis's lips since his phone call. "So you do care about him."
Quistis scowled. "Don't dodge my question, Squall."
Sighing, he wasn't sure how to begin to explain. "You know why we're going to Galbadia," he started after a moment of thought.
"I know what you told me, which is next to nothing."
"You heard what he said about the war. He's different. Even you can see that."
Quistis glanced at the closed bedroom door, before meeting his gaze again. "A guilty conscience doesn't mean his mind was controlled."
"It isn't his guilt to bear," Squall replied hotly. "Since everybody seems to need proof, that's what I'll get."
"That still doesn't answer my question."
Glaring at the woman for her stubborn one-track mind, Squall took a moment to rein in his annoyance. "I didn't want to tell you about him until he was ready. I knew you'd want to see him."
"Until he was ready for what? That bastard is as impossible to intimidate now as he was as a cadet."
"He doesn't handle the war well," Squall simplified. "Trust me. Don't force the past out of him." He frowned, some of the worries that had plagued him shining through. "I only just told him about the orphanage and I'm not even sure he wants to remember that much."
Quistis's eyes widened slightly. "Hyne. I forgot. All this time, he didn't know?"
Squall shook his head. "He still doesn't know about Matron."
Falling silent, Quistis processed the new information.
Watching her frown, Squall knew they were both thinking of Edea's reaction when she'd found out about Seifer; her expression frozen and wide-eyed, a woeful sound wrung free from her throat.
"He'll remember if he tries," Quistis said quietly.
Relieved that she was finally catching on to the severity of the situation, Squall gave a slight nod. "I need to tell him. He could see her in my memories."
"Is it that bad?" Quistis asked doubtfully. "I mean... Matron was possessed. She doesn't even remember. If we're expected to forgive Seifer, he has to forgive her."
"It's about trauma," Squall replied soberly. "Not forgiveness."
Quistis regarded him in thought. "What does Ellone think?" she finally asked, her tone betraying she was approaching a hypothesis, not yet taking his word for it.
"She believes me," Squall said in implied accusation, his tone even. "When we first tried, she said something felt wrong. She couldn't access Seifer's memories."
"You're leaving tomorrow?"
"Like I said."
Quistis nodded faintly. "Let me know what you find out."
Squall frowned, somehow irked by her words. "I'm doing this to help him. Not to confirm what you already know."
"Squall," she intoned. "Meet me halfway here. I don't want to be left in the dark any more than you do. This is important."
"...I'll call you when we're back."
Looking for a moment as if she was going to press for more, Quistis sighed and slowly nodded her agreement. "Any idea when that will be?"
"No," Squall said, unsure of how much detail he should divulge. Quistis already had trouble accepting that Seifer and him were on speaking terms, let alone friendly terms. "After Winhill, we're heading north to meet up with Fujin and Raijin."
Quistis's eyebrows climbed high at his statement. "You're tagging along to meet Fujin and Raijin?" She frowned. "Why?"
Not keen to bring the conversation to the whys of his most recent decisions concerning Seifer, he shrugged. "We're going hunting."
"...Right."
At the continued disbelief, Squall felt compelled to explain. "Seifer already had the trip planned. We're combining the two."
"You do realize who you're talking about, right? They were never your friends. Now you're going on trips with them?"
Squall felt a niggling sense of doubt reassert itself. He would be intruding, no matter how sure Seifer had seemed about him joining them. "Seifer will need their support."
"And he needs you there for that?" Quistis questioned immediately, her gaze far too scrutinizing to his liking. "Bullshit. Same as you staying here... I'm not buying Seifer's claim, you know. Nobody can coerce you into doing what you don't want to. You're here on your own terms."
When he didn't come forth with any explanations, she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "You missed him," she said with an incredulous huff.
"He's a good sparring partner," Squall replied reflexively, not liking how quickly Quistis was drawing her conclusions.
"Oh, I bet," she shot back, glancing at the scar between his eyes. "Even after everything, you can't help yourself, can you?"
Looking at her warily, his palms starting to sweat, Squall didn't reply.
"He just has to snap his fingers and off you go, getting into trouble." She shook her head with a snort. "I guess life is too boring with friends who don't constantly need to fight and challenge you."
Annoyed, Squall glared at her. "It's not like that."
"Oh, I'm sure deep down all the fighting you like each other." Quistis rolled her eyes. "Only you and Seifer would pick such a backward way of caring." She sighed then. "I'm just saying. Be careful, Squall. Your life's been upended. I get that you need to... vent, but I also remember how destructive you two can get around each other."
"We're not cadets anymore," Squall said tersely.
"No," Quistis agreed, looking at him in concern. "You're two men with a past. You can't return to the way things were."
"I'm not trying to," he said clippedly. It was the first thing he'd come to realize when Seifer returned into his life. "He's helping me train. Tomorrow I'm going to Galbadia to help him."
"Just exchanging favors, huh?" She shook her head again, this time in defeat. "Fine. If this is what you think you need right now, I won't stop you. Just... Don't do anything stupid. Well, more stupid than what you already have planned."
"Ellone's powers are harmless."
"Physically harmless," Quistis corrected softly. "Look, I'm tired of fighting. It's late. We both got our points across. I think it's time to compromise here."
Squall raised an eyebrow. "Spoken like a diplomat."
"Like a friend," she retorted with a weak smile. "You know I'm only like this because I care about you, right? ...You don't see me rushing to Trabia, barging in on Selphie and Irvine's lives. With them I know when I'm needed, when to leave them be. With you it's always been a guessing game."
More than aware of his unsuitability as a friend, Squall tried to let go of his annoyance. "I'll call you when we're back," he repeated, genuinely this time.
"You better," she said, admonishing him with a soft push against his shoulder. "You gave me such a scare... Hunting trip or not, don't you dare neglect your treatment."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
"Right answer, Commander."
Rewarded with a look of fond exasperation, Squall felt some of his tension melt away. It was never good for anybody's stress levels to have Quistis on their case.
"I expect you to make up for cancelling lunch, you know."
"Should I make reservations?" he said, quirking an eyebrow.
"You can keep your wallet closed, charmer." She smiled sweetly then. "Let's just say you owe me one."
When amicable silence fell between them, Quistis's smile faltered slightly as she glanced at the bedroom door once again.
"That man makes it impossible to have a civil conversation," she muttered, in self-defense no doubt. When he didn't comment, she frowned. "...I guess I was a bit harsh."
Not about to applaud the obvious conclusion, Squall met her gaze evenly.
"I'll go talk to him," Quistis announced with sudden bravado. At the concern she saw in Squall's expression, she tried to reassure the man. "Don't worry, I'll play nice."
Straightening her clothes, she tried to shake the tension from her shoulders. She'd have to keep her poise if this was to work. If she didn't manage to reach some form of understanding with Seifer, it would bug her until it drove her crazy.
Walking over to the bedroom door, she gave it a brief rap with her knuckles. "I'm coming in," she spoke in warning. When no reply came, she entered.
Seifer looked up from where he was slouched on the bed. Quistis actually looked calm; nothing like the queen of fury he'd left behind. Good thing he'd had enough foresight to put away the lube or they would have started yelling all over again. Or maybe that would have been the tipping point for her, the moment she'd call down Leviathan to obliterate his ass.
"All made up with the commander?" he asked, his eyes following her as she closed the door and walked closer.
"So it seems," Quistis replied, trying to keep her tone light. "At least, until the next time he does something exasperating."
"You want to talk in here then?"
"That's probably for the best." She could do without Squall interrupting her whenever the conversation might get potentially distressing for the blond. "Mind if I sit down?" she asked, gesturing at the foot of the bed.
"Feel free," Seifer said with a nod. He hadn't particularly looked forward to this, but he'd try to deal.
"So…" Quistis began after taking a seat. "Let's start over."
"Let's," Seifer agreed, wishing they could hold on to this more relaxed atmosphere between them, if only for a short while. It seemed like Quistis was finally willing to listen and hear his side of the story. About the war.
Only he couldn't. He didn't want to return to those memories. He'd done it once for Squall and he'd sworn it would be the last time. He couldn't bare himself like that again.
Thrown off by the uncharacteristic silence stretching on between them, Quistis suppressed a frown as she tried to figure out how to start the conversation. She had so many questions. Taking Squall's warnings to heart, she kept her first question as broad as possible. "What happened?"
Seifer couldn't look at her. "...I fucked up," he said simply, the memories beginning to surface, however hard he fought them back. They wanted to be seen, heard and felt. Not locked away in the deep, dark confines of his mind. He turned to stare out the window, wishing he'd left it open so he could've felt the breeze against his skin to root him in the present.
"I can't go back there," he said, knowing that if he did, he'd have trouble returning to a reality where he'd allowed himself to sleep with Squall. Where he was letting the man make huge sacrifices for him; for his conscience. He kept his voice level. "Please don't ask me to." He despised the pleading word, despised what it reduced him to.
Please. Just fucking end it.
Golden eyes, seas of blood. Memories of begging for the end.
He blinked and forced himself to relax the fingers that had gripped firmly onto to the bedsheet beneath him. He could only hope Quistis understood what this cost him.
Quistis stared at the man before her. Squall had been right. Seifer hadn't come out of the war unscathed. His eyes hadn't strayed from the window, his pleading words laced with a detached quality that unnerved her. It was all far too familiar. After the war she'd had to deal with more than one case of PTSD among her students. The thought of Seifer going through something similar brought an ache to her chest. It didn't seem right for the arrogant yet brilliant cadet she remembered to struggle like this.
But she needed answers. Now more than ever. "I need to understand, Seifer. Can you answer me simply? Yes or no?"
Seifer brought up a hand to knead at his forehead before turning his gaze back to Quistis. "I'll try," he relented, and drew up his feet to cross his legs.
"Alright," Quistis said with a soft nod, deciding to start at the beginning. Collecting herself, she tried to keep her voice as calm and free from judgment as possible. "Squall said you didn't want to follow her. Especially after a time. Is that true?"
Seifer huffed. A question like that was impossible to answer with just one word. "It's not that simple." He got out of the bed and walked to the window. His eyes drifted to the cars below, to the people hurrying down the street. "She made an offer I couldn't refuse," he said, his gorge rising as he heard her sweet voice in his head, almost as clear as it had been then.
Come, poor boy. Fulfill your destiny.
He grit his teeth, willing away the flashes pushing to the forefront of his mind. But there was no refusing them. Not when he had to speak the words that would bring them back. "There were only a couple of times during the war when I felt—" His eyes clenched shut.
A swerve.
Hyperion cutting through his chest.
"—like I do now." The windowsill felt cool underneath his hands. "Disgusted." He pressed his fingers into the hard metal. "If I could undo it all, I would."
Feeling her throat close painfully with emotion, Quistis got up from the bed to take a step closer. These weren't the words of a megalomaniac, of someone who had enjoyed inflicting pain. She realized then that details didn't matter. Not truly. Only one question remained. "You were so... angry. I could see it in your eyes that you hated us." Her voice wavered, more invested in Seifer's reply than she had anticipated. "That was her?"
Seifer looked over at Quistis, stared at her as the memories came flooding back. Her face drawn taut in determination and whip held high. The crackling of magic as they faced off for the last time. He'd hated her then. Had felt the urge to maim and hurt. He could still so vividly see what his mistress had craved. All SeeDs dead. Slaughtered and disfigured. She'd shown him the future she was planning for.
"It felt real at the time," he said lowly as he tried to push the revolting feelings of loathing away. "I can't separate what was her and what was me. The only thing I know is how sick it makes me feel now."
When Seifer turned away from her again, unable to hold her gaze any longer, Quistis began to understand Squall's distress. "So we're looking at major discrepancies between your convictions now and then," she reasoned, forcing herself to approach this with logic. "You wouldn't repeat your actions. You can't explain them reasonably. Am I right so far?"
The terse nod she received in reply urged her on. "And you didn't identify with her methods, her end goal?"
Seifer narrowed his eyes. Somehow the simple question managed to cut deep like a knife. "To torture and kill like a maniac?" he commented bitterly as his vision filled with the faces of the dead. It sucked him in, until he could hear the crackle of fire and smell the gunpowder. "No."
Quistis faltered. Half-formed suspicions she'd long laid to rest crept back into her thoughts. Torture. She had never managed to get Squall to divulge any details about his time at D-District, but he had changed in that prison. She could still remember the haunted look on his face, his frantic need to get out of there.
Shaking her head, she hoped she was wrong. If not... It would certainly explain why Squall was so desperate to believe Seifer had been manipulated; that his childhood companion hadn't wanted to hurt him. But even as those thoughts played through her head, it was becoming increasingly difficult to deny the truth unfolding before her.
"So you followed orders to realize a goal you didn't support, using methods you despise." No reply came to her statement, but she didn't need one to follow the evidence to its logical conclusion. "...There'd be only one way to make you do something like that," she said, recalling the stubborn cadet that had only ever answered to himself. "I think Squall's right."
Seifer frowned. He should have felt relief at her words, but he knew the truth; had come to accept it. "That doesn't change the past." It had been his hands, his sword, his glee. The memories would always be the same.
Having found her resolve, Quistis decided she would fight for him. "It doesn't," she agreed solemnly. "But it changes other things. Your future, for one."
Seifer huffed, and turned to regard her. "How so?"
"You could come back," Quistis said, meeting Seifer's gaze with determination. "If you wanted it, there'd be a place for you with us."
Squall had warned him about this, Seifer realized. However unlikely he'd found the suggestion at the time. But ultimately it didn't change a thing. "I made my decision long ago," he said, choosing to share something with her he'd never told anyone else. "I don't want any more blood on my hands."
The admission stopped Quistis short for only a moment. She nodded slowly. "I respect that," she intoned with sincerity. "But we get plenty of monster missions. And Garden needs more than just field operatives. Support staff, tactical, medical, instructors, communications—the list goes on." She ticked the alternatives off on her fingers. "You'd have options."
Taken aback by the conviction behind Quistis's offer, Seifer frowned. "I'm happy here," he said honestly. There was no way he'd feel at home at B-Garden. Not with all the memories there and everyone knowing about his past. The only reason he'd been able to move on was because Esthar had given him anonymity and a clean slate.
Quistis let out a thoughtful hum. "That's all anyone can ask for, I suppose," she said, not entirely convinced. "Even so, you'd be welcome."
Seifer nodded for a lack of something to say, still having trouble processing it all. He strongly doubted he'd ever set foot in Balamb Garden again, but the knowledge he hadn't burnt all his bridges after all… It meant something. If nothing else, Quistis had accepted him for now, which was exactly what he'd wanted; for Squall's sake.
At the somewhat lackluster reaction, Quistis decided to save her new project for another time. Clearly her offer still had to sink in and it wouldn't do to overwhelm Seifer all at once. She'd have to take things one step at a time.
"One last thing," she asked, remembering the man waiting for them in the other room. "How is Squall coping?"
Relaxing when Quistis let go of any more talk of the past, Seifer was unable to repress the slight curl to his lips. "He's good. Enjoying himself," he said, remembering their time out in the desert. How Squall had been so entirely in his element. "He'll be back to saving the world soon."
Certain she was seeing fondness in Seifer's eyes just then, Quistis's eyebrows rose. "Enjoying himself, huh?" she grumbled. "Glad someone is. I've been worried sick..." She frowned when her gaze wandered to the door. "I guess I should be happy he's not hiding away somewhere like I thought... Tch. Hunting trips and spars. That's got to be the weirdest rebound I ever heard of."
A low chuckle left Seifer. Quistis didn't know the half of it. He'd lost count of just how many times he'd made Squall climax in the mere span of a few days. And that had been with plenty of distractions taking up their time too.
Heartened by the small show of amusement, Quistis considered her one time student. He seemed healthy enough at least. He'd certainly bulked up a bit since the war, so he was still keeping in shape. "Squall told me you're training your magic together. How's that been going?"
"Good." It was one hell of an understatement, but Seifer wasn't about to tell her that he'd lost almost all abilities when it came to paramagic after the war. "Who'd have thought it, but we make one hell of a team."
"I wish I could've seen it," Quistis said with a disbelieving huff. For a party of two, they'd cleared their mission in the Behema Sands in record time. In hindsight, it seemed obvious whom she should've suspected as Squall's partner. "Your mission bonus should come through tomorrow by the way. Remind Squall to pass it on. He can get forgetful about things like pay."
Seifer huffed as well. "Sounds like him." Squall probably didn't spend a fraction of what Garden was paying him.
"Actually," Quistis said, realizing the opportunity to lure the blond further into her net, "I should just put you on Garden's payroll. As a freelancer. Next time Squall heads this way for a monster mission, you two can team up." Perhaps a taste of what Garden had to offer would make the man change his mind.
"You sound like a true headmistress in the making," Seifer replied affably. He certainly wouldn't mind another day like that with Squall and to get paid for it seemed absurd.
"Was that an actual compliment?" Quistis said with a raised eyebrow, trying to mask her surprise with levity. The words meant a lot coming from the last person she'd ever expected any respect from. "The official transition will be at the startof next year, but Cid seems to think he's already retired."
"Not long," Seifer commented, realizing that if he played his cards right he'd end up with both a Garden headmistress and a president on his side, not to mention a certain SeeD commander. "And you've certainly got the tenacity to pull it off."
Quistis almost blushed at the continued flattery. "Any less won't cut it," she said matter-of-factly. "I have Squall to keep in line, for starters."
Another chuckle left Seifer. "Good luck with that," he said and looked over at the door.
Following Seifer's gaze, Quistis let out a soft sigh. She wished she could have more time with just Seifer, but maybe a break would be for the best. "Do you want to head back in?" she asked, nodding at the door. "Let him know we're still alive?"
"We'd better," Seifer agreed, having gone without the man's presence for far too long that day. If it hadn't been for the immediate distraction upon his entrance, he would've had a hard time not greeting the brunet the way he'd really wanted to. That was going to be equally hard now. As he started towards the door, he glanced at Quistis. "You hungry?"
Moving around the bed, she looked at him with a slightly quirked brow. "A little, I guess. Those train meals never amount to much."
Seifer nodded, having assumed as much. "I bet the Commander's forgotten about dinner as well," he said, following her into the other room. His eyes fell to where Squall was sitting on the couch. "You had dinner yet, Princess?"
Raising an eyebrow at the unexpected lightheartedness, Squall glanced over Seifer's shoulder to where Quistis was standing. Noting her composure and slightly bemused expression, he slowly relaxed.
"Not yet," he said, meeting Seifer's gaze.
"Guess I'd better feed my starving guests, then," Seifer said, walking over to the kitchen and opening a cupboard. Rummaging through it, he got out the things he needed.
"Did he just call you Princess?"
"He did," Squall replied resignedly. He'd gotten so used to it, he apparently wasn't even capable of registering it anymore, no matter the company.
Quistis's eyebrows climbed high as she processed the uncharacteristically mild reaction to an offense that would've set off an impressive fight in the past and would've landed either or both cadets in the infirmary. The strangeness didn't end there. Watching as Seifer got out ingredients and utensils, she joined Squall by the couch, her eyes glued to the spectacle before her.
"Pinch me."
Squall huffed softly in understanding. "He cooks these days."
"Huh. I'm Seifer Almasy's guest," she said, as if it was the punchline to a joke she didn't quite get. "Next thing you'll say he does your ironing as well."
"Just my laundry. And groceries."
"That's right. He cooks, he does groceries, he works. Even does laundry and occasionally cleans. And best of all, looks sexy as hell while doing it all," Seifer said, looking over his shoulder with a shit-eating grin. "Everything you'd need in a man, wouldn't you say, Quistis?"
At the return of the trademark cockiness, Squall rolled his eyes. Next to him Quistis huffed, stifling a laugh. "Let's first see if you can present me with something edible. I've learned to distrust a man's cooking, you know," she said in jest.
"I don't blame you. Laguna told me about the burnt toast," Seifer said with a chuckle. "But trust me, once you've tried this, you'll wish you were the one staying here as my guest."
Making herself comfortable on the couch, Quistis watched the blond at work. "I never would've pegged you for the domestic type, Seifer," she teased. "I don't know how many more surprises I can take."
"I guess I'd better get the rest out of the way then," Seifer said, turning around to face her. He'd always loved throwing people for a spin. "I'm working to become a weaponsmith. Balios's apprentice. I'm also a gunblade instructor at the Tiamat SCTA." He paused for emphasis as he leaned back against the counter. "And I'm gay."
A faint, aborted smile lingered on Quistis's lips as her eyes grew minutely wider. "Wait, what?"
"You heard me," Seifer said, turning back around to continue cooking, having stored Quistis's priceless expression away in memory forever.
The moment Squall felt Quistis's eyes on him, looking for some sense, he made a formidable effort to rein in the flutter of panic in his stomach. Seifer's words had no actual bearing on him. There was no way Quistis could connect the dots with so little information. As he caught her gaze however, he wasn't at all reassured by her frown and the quick dart of her eyes back to Seifer.
"You two are stringing me along, right?" Quistis spoke to Seifer's back. "You, gay? I distinctly remember a whole lot of shameless flirting and even some wolf-whistling, andnone of it involved guys."
Seifer shrugged. "Took a while to figure it out," he said, getting out three cans of beer.
She watched the blond with a scrutinizing frown as he walked over. "...You sure had me fooled," she commented doubtfully, accepting the can of beer. "Along with the rest of Garden. Hyne, you even flirted with Kadowaki."
"And now both sexes get to enjoy it," he said with a wink. "I don't discriminate when it comes to flirting. Only in the bedroom." He held out the other can of beer for Squall.
Praying to Hyne for the two to pick another topic soon, Squall took the can. He met Seifer's gaze only briefly before looking down at his drink. The bastard probably loved putting him on the spot like this.
"So now you consider yourself Hyne's gift to women and men?" Quistis huffed in reply. "How like you." She sipped her beer with a mystified shake of the head.
"Hope you're not too heartbroken," Seifer said, walking back to the kitchen.
"I'll live," Quistis replied dryly. "And just for the record, I'm never discussing tastes in guys with you."
"Praise Hyne," Seifer muttered under his breath as he stirred the vegetables in the pan.
"So," she continued after another, more royal drink from her beer. "Now that you've had your fun shocking your former instructor... Care to elaborate on how you became one?"
More than relieved at the change in conversation, Squall allowed himself to relax as Seifer gave her the same rundown as he'd been given. Beside him, he could sense Quistis perking up at the story of how Seifer hadn't been able to refrain from correcting the students and how he had landed himself a job in the process. Squall was absolutely certain the woman was already plotting several ways to steal Seifer away from the SCTA.
"Just like that?" Quistis said, eyebrow quirked. "You teach, proper uniform and everything? Don't tell me Garden lost out on a gunblade instructor."
"Proper uniform and everything," Seifer confirmed, getting out some plates for them. "Squall got a show just this Thursday."
"Really?" Immediately Squall found himself fixed with Quistis's gaze. "Well?" she urged when he didn't immediately provide her with the intel she wanted.
Having already warned Seifer about the possibility Quistis would want to headhunt him, Squall figured it was out of his hands. "He's good. Best I've seen since Peyton."
"Better than Peyton," Seifer corrected as he stirred the food. "And better than anyone else that 'teaches' gunblades at any of the SCTAs."
"Good gunbladers are rare," Quistis huffed in agreement. "Someone who can teach it even more so. I know, I've looked."
"Maybe you should come by sometime," Seifer said, part of him eager to show his former instructor just what Garden was missing out on. "See the prodigy in action."
Quistis studied him thoughtfully before giving a nod. "Next time I'm in Esthar I'll take you up on that," she agreed. "So, an instructor and a weapon smith as well, huh? Sounds like you're doing very well for yourself." She sipped her beer, considering how all of this would affect her chances of bringing Seifer back. "Am I right in assuming you were talking about the Balios?"
Seifer looked over at her with a broad smile, proud of what he'd achieved. He hummed in agreement. "Made my own blade too. You can go check it out if you want. Still a couple of minutes until the food is ready."
"I'd love that, actually," Quistis said, setting down her can of beer. "I'm afraid I only have a good eye for gunbladers, though. Not the actual weapon itself."
The smirk that spread on Seifer's lips was unstoppable. "I thought we weren't going to discuss our taste in men," he quipped.
Eyebrows climbing high at the remark, Quistis got up from the couch. "Ours, Seifer?" she pointed out dryly, entering the bedroom after glancing Squall's way. "You're making your sparring partner awfully nervous there."
Seifer turned his head towards the bedroom. "Don't worry. He's already used to the flirting," he said, before turning back to stir their food once more.
"Seifer," Quistis admonished from the other room. "Don't tell me you've been picking on Squall."
"Always, Instructor," Seifer said as he sampled a forkful of their dinner. "Can't help it."
Taking down a gulp of his beer, Squall glared fruitlessly at Seifer's back. Quistis wasn't as easily fooled as Loire. A few more comments like those and they'd be in trouble.
Smiling at the unlikely banter, Quistis switched on the lights of the small bedroom and looked around. The room, just like the rest of Seifer's apartment, was unexpectedly modest and normal looking, but it still managed to look more like a home than Squall's and Rinoa's penthouse ever had. Like the way Squall's uniform hung off an unassuming hanger at the back of the door, instead of the ridiculous walk-in closet she remembered from the house warming party Rinoa had thrown. Zipping the uniform's covering open to quickly check the state of Squall's uniform, she closed it again upon finding it suitably presentable. She stifled a laugh as she imagined Seifer ironing it with careful focus.
She followed a meandering path to where she'd spotted Seifer's gunblade, not bothering to rein in her curiosity in the slightest. It was obvious that Squall and Seifer had been able to mend things simply from looking at their things. Squall's gunblade cases stood next to the dresser that held Seifer's gunblade. Clothes she recognized as Squall's hung neatly arranged on the back of the room's only chair, while Seifer's lay haphazardly on the seat.
It reminded her of when she'd shared her small cadet quarters with a roommate. Nothing bred mutual understanding or loathing like cohabitation, and for Seifer and Squall it seemed to be the former. To think that instead of all the disciplinary measures she'd inflicted on the two, she might have had better results if she'd forced them to be roommates.
Shaking her head at the thought, she came to a stop before the dresser and let her hands alight softly upon the gleaming metal of Seifer's gunblade. She couldn't quite believe Seifer had made this. It looked like the real deal, just as any other blade she'd seen on display. She felt pride stir for the man. He'd always been gifted, that one. Lifting it from the dresser to get a sense of it, she rose an eyebrow.
"It's lighter than Squall's," she called out, loud enough for the others to hear her. Certain this blade would have a name just as its predecessor had, she asked, "Its name?"
"Kronos," came Seifer's reply.
She frowned at the familiar name. She'd heard it before, but couldn't quite place it. "Why does that ring a bell?"
It was Squall who answered. "Think Centran deities."
Quistis laughed as it all clicked into place. First Hyperion, and now Kronos. Of course Seifer would go the dramatic route in naming his blades.
"At least I didn't base it on my surname."
At Seifer's attempt to slander Squall, Quistis shook her head with a smile before setting Kronos down again. "Well, I just think you're both obsessed, naming your weapons in the first place," she added her own two cents as she walked to the door. "Why do men do that?"
"I dunno, Quistis," Seifer called out from the other room. "At least I haven't named my cock... Even though it's impressive enough to deserve it."
Blinking at the crude words and the unbidden imagery that popped into her head, Quistis was speechless for all of a few seconds before she let out an appalled huff. "I see you still have the sophistication of a caveman," she said, walking into the living area to fix Seifer with a mock stern look.
"Missed it?" Seifer asked, smirking as he met Quistis's gaze.
"Like toothache," she snorted. Moving to lean against the kitchen counter, she looked Squall's way. "How can you stand this idiot?"
How indeed. Nursing a newfound appreciation for his can of beer, Squall forced himself to relax. "The price I pay for a decent spar."
Seifer grinned at the brunet, knowing better. "Okay, kiddies, dinner is ready," he said, filling up their bowls. "Get it while it's hot."
Sticking her nose in the air to catch a whiff, Quistis peered over the counter to see what he was readying. "That actuallysmells like it's safe for consumption."
"I'm sure you'll like it," Seifer said, handing her one of the bowls over the counter.
Accepting the food, she poked around its contents as she moved to the couch. "I can't remember the last time I had a home cooked meal... You better not disappoint me, Seifer," she announced before tucking in.
Walking over and handing Squall a bowl as well, Seifer grabbed a cushion. Dropping it to the floor opposite from Squall and Quistis, at the other side of the coffee table, he sat down and took a sip of his beer before digging into the food.
Lifting another forkful of noodles, Quistis shook her head. "I really shouldn't inflate your ego any more than it already is, but... this is great." She let out a chuckle at her own words. "Can't say I expected my day to turn out like this."
"Same here," Seifer agreed. "Never thought I'd say this... but it's good to see you, Quistis."
Quistis's expression softened. "I could get used to you calling me Quistis again, you know."
Remembering how Squall had told him that their past ran back much further than he'd known, Seifer regarded Quistis carefully. "Squall told me about the orphanage." The whole thing still seemed too ridiculous to be true to him. "That you were there… as well as the others." He paused, once more trying to recall anythingfrom before his time at Garden. "It doesn't make any sense."
"Believe me, it didn't make much sense to us either when we first found out," Quistis reassured. "If Irvine hadn't been such a rookie with GFs, we might never have known."
When Seifer didn't say anything, seemingly lost to thought, Squall wasn't surprised. Quistis briefly glanced at him in question, but there was nothing he could tell her now that he hadn't already warned her about, so he just met her gaze. The set to her eyes warned him she hadn't let go of the topic yet.
"Squall was actually the last to pop back into our memories," she said with an amused shake of the head. "We all stood there, trying to remember, and he just lingered in the background." She fixed Squall with a teasing look. "You were probably still hoping to deny all affiliation with us, weren't you?"
Seifer looked up from his food. "He's the only one I do remember," he admitted softly. "I never thought the image I had in my head of a crying toddler was real though, much less that it was Squall," he mused, shaking his head. "Actually, yesterday I remembered Selphie as well. Squall told me the sand castle she'd helped me demolish was yours." He couldn't help but smirk at the memory.
"Don't think I ever got an apology for that," Quistis said with a wistful smile. "Hyne, youand Selphie!" She huffed then. "Selphie never did outgrow that tendency for destruction... For some reason she has it out for Zell these days."
Squall looked up from his food at the remark. "The holo updates."
"What?"
"The updates Zell requested. They cut into the budget of the explosives department."
"She's still on that?" Quistis said with a quirked eyebrow. "Then she must've forgotten to mention to you that I also signed off on the extra funding for her new favorite toy. She nearly totaled the first prototype..." She narrowed her eyes then. "You know, she told me you inspired her to post all those embarrassing photos of Zell."
Squall just met her gaze evenly.
Seifer couldn't help but butt in. "What kind of photos are we talking about here?"
Quistis shook her head with a long-suffering sigh. "Nothing to help his image as an instructor. And of course Selphie had to post them directly on the Garden forums. Poor thing. He's already saying he'll never have another birthday party again."
"She posted all of them?" Squall asked, almost feeling bad for the combat instructor.
Quistis nodded gravely. "Mhm... It just started with the hat, but then his Mach Kick went viral. His students can't keep a straight face anymore when he demonstrates a martial arts move."
Seifer knew exactly what photo Quistis and Squall were talking about. It had to be the nude one of Zell that Squall had mentioned when they'd been out in the desert. He let out a deep laugh, then shook his head and cringed. "Promise me you'll never show me those pictures," he said, looking straight at Squall, hoping the man would heed his word. "Any pictures of you on the other hand, I'd be more than happy to take a look at." He grinned. "Especially if they include skinny dipping."
Stunned, Squall stared at the blond. Feeling Quistis's gaze on him as she picked apart his reaction, he wished he could punch some subtlety into the idiot.
"That doesn't look like he's used to it, Seifer," she admonished dryly. "And for your information, we failed to persuade him."
"I know," Seifer said, still smiling as he shifted his gaze to Quistis. "And you may be right... Guess I should go easy on him, huh?"
"Mhm," Quistis agreed sweetly. "Might be safer to pick on someone who doesn't have the skill and tools to castrate you."
"True," Seifer chuckled.
"So," Quistis cut the topic short, looking at Squall. "How exactly did you get Selphie to post those pictures?"
"...I asked her for some older ones," Squall said in defense. "She added the ones from the birthday party as well," he added, explaining the so-claimed inspiration he'd provided.
"Ah," Quistis said in understanding, glancing at Seifer. "Selphie's our self-appointed archiver. She's got this obsession for capturing everything on photographs... All of us still use GFs. She sees it as a way to keep our memories safe." Quistis's lips quirked upwards. "I doubt Zell agrees at the moment."
At Seifer's chuckle, Quistis regarded him warmly. "So, might be a tip now that you know. Selphie's also got this online journal. We're all supposed to write in it, but she makes the most entries... Predictably, Squall hasn't added anything yet," she added with a teasing glint to her eyes. "I don't think he's doing the private diary thing either."
"Can't say it sounds like something I'd do," Seifer remarked.
"I have to admit I'm not very consistent about it either," Quistis said with a shrug. "The way I see it, we just make sure we don't let each other forget. And Selphie's more than up to the task."
Squall snorted. "I hope we'll never have to rely on that journal to figure out the past."
Quistis bumped his shoulder admonishingly. "Hey. At least we'll always remember the exact date Zell's Mach Kick hit a thousand views... I happen to think the anecdotes are more worthwhile remembering than official Garden business."
Falling silent, a contemplative expression crossed Quistis's face. Biting her lip against a smile, she put her fork down on the coffee table. "Okay—you'll probably never let me live this down, but now I have to show you," she said to Seifer, her gaze darting briefly towards Squall.
Moving from her seat, she went to squat down by her overnight bag, fishing out a worn, leather organizer. Flipping it open at the back, she returned to the couch. "I had a copy made so I could have it on me."
Raising an eyebrow, Seifer took the small photo Quistis held out to him. It was of a beach with lots of kids fooling around in the sunshine. A sense of recognition surged through him. It was the beach he'd almost been able to remember, as if the vague substance of his recollections had suddenly been given form in the picture before him. He skimmed the children's faces—the hair colors, clothes and expressions. He could see a lighthouse in the background. The lighthouse.
A brunet boy and brunet girl with pigtails stood out to him. He recognized them. Squall and Selphie.
Selphie was crouching down together with a blond boy, their interest caught by some crabs. Squall was standing in the surf in wait, knee-high in the water, an older girl heading his way with an air mattress.
In the foreground, a blond boy with a missing tooth was posing with a fish net, a forgotten red bucket right behind him. To his left, further down the beach, a girl was pointing her finger at an unfinished part of an elaborate sandcastle, looking dead-serious as she conferred with another girl. Another boy was busy digging a trench to guide water to the sand castle's moat, other kids seemingly helping out as well. Every part of the sandy structure was intricate, sea shells adorning the towers.
"And you said I haven't changed?" he asked with a slight smile and raised eyebrow, glancing up at Quistis. The bossy girl at the sandcastle was obviously her.
Quistis regarded him thoughtfully, a soft smile on her lips. "That's what I like about this picture. The years may have changed us, but in this picture I can still recognize myself. All of us. Who we are." She glanced at it fondly.
Seifer looked back at the picture. Quistis's implication was clear; he was in it. Along with everyone else Squall had mentioned they had grown up with. He skimmed the kids again and picked out the blond haired boys. He had no idea what he'd looked like as a kid. No way he was the stupid kid posing in the front. Maybe the one in the background shooting frisbees with some other boys. Or the one crouching down together with Selphie. He wasn't going to ask.
Humming in delayed agreement with Quistis's words, he placed the picture on the coffee table. "It's a good picture," he said nonchalantly.
At the lukewarm reaction, Quistis regarded him closely before looking at the picture again. "Luckily this particular sandcastle survived your alliance with Selphie. Too distracted with picking apart dead crabs together." She glanced at the duo in the picture. "You're practically behaving in this one."
Seifer curbed the urge to reach out for the picture again to take a closer look. "Where did you get it?" he asked instead, continuing his meal.
Squall could tell Quistis deliberately didn't look his way. He'd known a pitfall like this would come up. It's why he'd wanted to wait with the pictures until after he'd told Seifer about Edea.
"We got it from the orphanage," she began to explain. "The place is a ruin now. We found some albums, but those didn't survive in one piece. The pictures we've got were in a box."
"There are more?" Seifer asked, frowning slightly.
"Mhm," Quistis intoned. "The older pictures Squall asked Selphie for, I'm sure," she added with a knowing smile. "It helps to remember."
Seifer turned to look at Squall instead, his frown deepening. "You've got them here?"
Too late for damage control now. Inwardly throttling Quistis for her well-intended meddling, Squall nodded. "In case you'd want to see them."
The way Squall spoke the words put Seifer on edge. They were too casual considering the fact that Squall would have considered very carefully when to show them to him. "How come you didn't tell me about them then?" he asked with a hint of accusation.
Squall frowned. "It seemed... premature," he said, hesitating before adding, "I planned to show you tomorrow. With Ellone coming up."
Matching Squall's frown, Seifer studied the brunet for a moment. Something was definitely up. There had to be a reason for Squall to wear the serious expression he was, considering they were just talking about pictures from their childhood. A simple mention of the pictures earlier, when Squall had first told him about their past, would have made a lot more sense. It would have been all the proof he would have needed when he'd doubted Squall's words.
"Why wait?" he asked, challenging Squall. "Today or tomorrow, it's all the same."
With a sigh, Squall met Quistis's gaze before getting up from the couch. The difference between today and tomorrow was privacy. Quistis had no idea how deep this went with the blond. Already she'd shown just how little she understood Seifer's unenthused reactions.
Retrieving his laptop from his work bag, he moved back to the couch and placed it on the coffee table. "It's about the orphanage," he started cautiously. "You'll remember it eventually. You might see it in my memories." Switching on his laptop, he looked up to meet Seifer's gaze. "You need to know in advance."
Seifer's frown deepened. "What do I need to know?"
Leaving the cursor to idle over the innocent looking folder Selphie had sent him, Squall steeled himself. There was no sugar-coating a truth like this. "There's someone who isn't on that picture," Squall started, nodding at Quistis's childhood memento. "The person who took it. She was in charge of the orphanage... Matron."
When no reaction came, Squall knew he'd have to spell it out completely. Seifer didn't remember a thing.
"She's a sorceress. She became Ultimecia's target for possession because of it." Squall paused, hesitating to speak the name. "Edea."
Seifer narrowed his eyes, completely dumbstruck. He'd heard Squall's words, but he couldn't take them in. What Squall was saying didn't make any sense. He shook his head. It couldn't be true.
"No."
"Ulti-" Squall started, but was immediately cut off.
"No," Seifer repeated forcefully, before getting up from the floor and placing the remainder of his meal on the coffee table. "You're wrong," he said once more, gesturing emphatically to underline his point, "because it doesn't make any sense. Why would she possess her? Why would she choose a woman in charge of an orphanage and then choose one of the woman's kids to be her knight?" He closed his eyes and shook his head, overwhelmed by the memories of what he'd done with her. He remembered every part of her; from her silky white skin to her golden eyes as she softly beckoned him to join her.
Come here, sweetie.
The image of her lying naked in wait on the large bed pushed to the forefront. And then another memory snuck in. A lighter voice; softer and calmer. Younger. Caring. He'd been a boy then as he'd looked up into the eyes of the only person who'd ever cared for him.
Come here, and I'll make it better.
He was going to be sick.
Spotting Squall about to speak, he thrust out his hand to shut the man up. "You can keep your Hyne-damned pictures to yourself," he spat before stalking over to the counter where he'd left out his glass and the bottle of whiskey. Filling the glass to the brim, he brought it to his lips.
Squall rose from the couch at the harsh dismissal, wishing he could stop the man. He knew exactly where this would lead, but anything he had to say would be immediately dismissed at this point, the man's barely contained anger telling him it was already too late. Beside him Quistis stirred from her daze, opening her mouth before he could warn her off.
"At least hear him out," she said, a hint of pique in her voice. "It might help to understand how Edea got involved. How we got involved."
"Save it, Trepe," Seifer said, relishing the burn that would soon lead to addled thought. He looked over at Squall and huffed at having earned himself the commander's pity. "I'm heading out."
Losing all hope of salvaging the situation, Squall watched as Seifer gathered his keys and jacket with brusque moves. He hated the harried look to the man, as if their mere presence disgusted him.
"...Seifer," he called in vain, utterly ignored. The blond walked past them, not even sparing them a glance before he stepped into the hallway. The front door slammed shut behind him with a ring of finality, all too reminiscent of the last time Seifer had walked off like this, but this time he wouldn't accept it. This time he'd make sure he'd be there when the man returned.
Looking away from where Seifer had disappeared, Squall sat back down on the couch. Slumping back, he pinched the bridge of his nose. The man's reaction had been worse than he'd anticipated. Far worse. He couldn't stand to see the raw pain that lay just beneath Seifer's unaffected exterior.
"Why did you let him go?"
At Quistis's more than unhappy tone of voice, Squall dropped his hand to stare at her. The woman had ignored his advice, had blown right past every warning sign and had actually sounded annoyed with Seifer when the man had been barely able to rein in his distress.
"Squall," she persisted when he didn't answer. "He shouldn't be out there by himself."
So now she was catching on. Too little too late. "He's been out there by himself ever since the war. He'll manage," Squall replied tersely, leveling her with a glare.
Quistis's gaze narrowed slightly. "Are you angry?"
"You forced my hand," Squall said coolly. "I warned you about Matron. About the past."
"I showed him a picture," Quistis exclaimed, exasperated. "I thought he'd like it."
"You steered that conversation in a very deliberate way."
Quistis straightened in her seat, her lips drawn into a tight line. "Today or tomorrow. He was right, Squall. What difference does it make? At least now he has some time to let it sink in before you go to Galbadia."
"Or time to change his mind," Squall said evenly. He knew dropping the bomb right before their arrival at Winhill would've been less than perfect, but there was no ideal timing here. Only less ideal company.
"It's not like him to turn tail and run."
Squall quirked an eyebrow. "Then what do you think just happened?"
The remark brought a deep frown to Quistis's brow as she fell silent.
"When I tell you not to push, don't push," he reiterated, hopefully for the last time. "Not when it's about Seifer."
"Fine, I get it," Quistis bit back, her shoulders sagging. She stared at her unfinished bowl of noodles. "I'm just afraid you guys won't encourage each other where it matters. Spars and training are distracting, but it doesn't address any real issues. With me here—"
"I was addressing the issue," Squall interrupted. "Winhill, remember?"
"But what about Garden? Have you even mentioned the possibility that he could return?"
Squall held her determined gaze evenly. "I told him you would."
Quistis shook her head in exasperation. "Don't you want him back?!"
"That's not up to us. He's good at what he does. He started a new life here."
"Because he thought he couldn't come back!"
Sighing at her adamancy, Squall didn't immediately answer. Seifer; a SeeD. Doing missions together. It was a life he'd long stopped considering. Reality had turned out so very differently.
"There's no point in asking him," he finally explained. "As long as he blames himself, anything to do with the past is a dangerous topic. That includes Garden."
"Then you make sure he goes to Winhill with you," Quistis replied, as if it had been her idea all along. "...I suppose I better hold off the rest of the gang for now."
"Please," Squall intoned at the obvious.
"What train are you taking?"
"12:30."
She raised an eyebrow at that. "That's cutting it close, Squall. You know these meetings. They tend to drag on."
"Then make sure it doesn't. Or finish the meeting without me." He wasn't feeling particularly patient, wishing he could be on that train already. A meeting with those pigheaded politicians was the last thing on his mind right now.
"And how am I supposed to do that?"
"You're the moderator," he said with a shrug. "Moderate."
"Hyne, you can be such an ass." Pushing up from the couch, she walked over to pick up her overnight bag. "I'm on your side here, Squall," she said, not sounding like she felt much goodwill towards him. "I'll moderate your ungrateful ass out of there. In return you had better get results and keep me posted."
Running a hand over his tired eyes, Squall got up as well and moved to intercept her. "...Quistis."
"I know," she said, her voice softer. "That man turns anyone's temper into a short fuse and you've been around him for days." Shrugging into her coat, she picked up her bag and hitched it onto her shoulder. "You just make sure you're on your best behavior tomorrow morning and I'll do my part to get you out of there in time."
Squall gave a nod, grateful for her understanding. "You've got a place to go?"
"Yup, Sphinxara district. Ritziest hotel in the city," she replied with a small smile. "And I even have cab money."
"I'll drive you," Squall offered, moving to grab his jacket from its hanger by the door.
Quistis held out a hand to stop him. "You should stay here. I'm fine."
"He'll be a while."
She quirked an eyebrow at the discouraging statement. "Not the first time?"
"No."
She studied him thoughtfully, frowning. "I'm sorry," she offered softly.
Looking around her, she seemed reluctant to go. "Wait just a sec." Getting out her leather binder, she tore out a blank page and walked up to the counter. Writing something down, she folded the paper in half and set the empty whiskey glass on it.
"Seifer's eyes only," she said secretively, turning around to meet Squall's gaze with a smile.
Unable to see how a note would improve matters much, Squall just nodded and put on his jacket. Closing his hand around his car keys, he let out a sigh. Sphinxara District. That would be at least half an hour there and then another back. No chance at all that Seifer would be back by then. He'd have another night of waiting to look forward to.
He held the door open for Quistis, resigned.
"Let's go."
~ o ~