The third time Seifer saw the mysterious man, he felt only dread. The icy pain from his sharp defeat had not faded, intimidation forming rigidly inside him.

But whatever had pulled him towards the brunet was stronger, and he felt himself follow him like a shadow, desperately searching for the last piece of the puzzle.

Streets passed like a dream, blue eyes only focused on the strong man before him.

Eventually they reached Seifer's beloved sandlot. The scarred brunet moved into the center of the ring and settled, shoulders tense. "You get your kicks out of stalking people?"

The voice was rough, harsh- Seifer felt a shiver run up his spine, his throat burning. He stepped out of the shadows hesitantly, treading with great care. "Only… when it feels like I should remember something- I can't stop thinking about it, night and day- what is it that I should know?"

The man bristled visibly, turning with a dangerous look in his eyes. "You… How dare you suggest you know anything about me, how-" Something near panic and pain flashed in his eyes and he jerked his head to the side, long bangs falling across his face and shadowing his expression.

Seifer stumbled back, fingers scratching against familiar stone for support. Something about the man's anger sapped his strength, made him feel as though his soul was collapsing in on itself.

He watched as time stretched. The man shuddered suddenly, then turned around, intent on leaving.

"Wait," he called out to the swordsman, "wait." He knew if he walked off now, everything would be over- before it had even started. Desperation gripped him, clawing its way up his ribcage and into his throat as he watched, not noting even the smallest shift in the brunet's gait. "Wait! Squall!"

He had only a moment to be surprised as the name passed his lips, before he found himself pinned to the wall, a sword jammed into the stone beside his head. He felt a bead of blood roll down his cheek, but he was only faintly aware of it.

Instead, he was intently focused on the face that he had burned into his mind what felt like forever ago. But now the man's carefully blank expression was twisted- into rage or what else, he couldn't be sure. Something deep in him told him that Squall- it felt so good to finally call him that… he'd always wanted to, and it had finally broken free, and it was amazing- was suffering.

Previously unnoticed lines in his forehead and between his eyes were defined, and up close he could see the odd color of the skin beneath each eye. His thin mouth was twisted into a snarl, and from their proximity he could tell his entire body was shuddering. The look in Squall's eyes was wild- his pupils were a sliver of darkness in a sea of gray-blue. He looked incensed… terrified, resentful, in the most dangerous of pains.

"Never," he hissed, "ever call me that again. Do you understand? Never."

He could do nothing but stand, trying desperately to keep his knees from giving out, and stare wide-eyed at the older man as he felt something cracking inside him.

The gunblade was pulled out of the mortar and stone suddenly, and 'Leon' hurried out of the arena.

Seifer shivered, sliding down the wall to drop heavily to the ground. He drew his knees against his chest, pressing his burning eyes against them.

He had remembered his name. He had remembered his name! Wasn't that worth something? Didn't he deserve something? He didn't want to cause Squall pain! He didn't- god. God. He already wanted to see him again.

He already wanted to see him again…

There is one more chapter. Yes, I do realize its called 3rd time's the charm. Well, it is. Just because he's acheived his goal, it doesn't mean everything's over- I mean, obviously. you didn't think I was THAT mean, did you:P ...you know what, don't answer that.