A/N: FFVIII isn't mine. Once again, I'm extremely grateful to you reviewers for your support. I really hope Chapter 5 is satisfactory!Crescendo is definitely not my best chapter, and some of you might find it a little too abrupt. But I just wanted to bring a few things across. There is so much irony laced in this chapter. And because there's an ugly, childish side lurking in all of us, regardless of the front we put on...

lessons in ineloquence

#05: c r e s c e n d o

"Quistis."

"Hm?"

"What are we doing here?"

Seifer was half-sprawled across the floor in his room, his back and head against his bed. A beer can was in his hand. Quistis sat at his desk, shuffling through a stack of papers in a studious manner. "Devising lesson plans for hero-wannabes?" she replied without looking up.

"No… What are we really doing?"

"Drinking? The way we've been doing for almost a month?"

"We're planning lessons for a wimpy wuss and her boyfriend who desperately want to pass their SeeD exam, while on the way to being drunk? Shit." He laughed.

Quistis stared down at her notes. Do laps arund the first floor until you run into a Garden Faculty member, in which case you make a 100-metre sprint for the lift. Remember to hit the 'start' button on your watch to moniter the timing regardles of GF (not Guardian force) shoutg – There were numerous spelling errors to go along with it, too, and Quistis never made spelling errors. She shook her head and leaned back in her chair. "This gets so fun, I'm actually feeling a little bad."

"Ex-teacherish guilt, huh?"

"In case you haven't discovered yet, Seifer, that's still my sore spot."

"I have discovered, actually."

"Shut up." Quistis twirled the pencil around her slim fingers. "You know, you've been throwing hissy fits over those two kids since you agreed to 'tutor' them, but actually you secretly like them. Or your ego just couldn't turn down the opportunity to lord it over someone."

No response. Quistis resumed her writing, but half her mind was on their somewhat bizarre relationship. It was no secret that the two were on relatively good terms now – if 'good terms' meant getting into quarrels loudly and publicly on an almost daily basis. Then again, it was no secret that Quistis retreated into Seifer's dorm whenever she felt like she needed a venting buddy. The drinking part came later, and unintentionally. She found she didn't want to know how Seifer had managed to smuggle all those beer cans in.

"…Why does everyone in the world like Squall?"

Seifer's voice sliced suddenly into the scratchy silence and Quistis's heart froze for a moment. She paused to gather her thoughts.

"There, this time you started it first. Not me."

"Why does everyone in the world like Squall?" Seifer repeated in an insistent manner. The tips of Quistis' fingers tingled in something like trepidation as she looked over at him. His eyes were half-closed.

"You had a little bit too much to drink tonight, Seifer," she remonished. "I take my eyes off you for a sec, and you gulp down another can."

He sat up. "What the hell do you see in him, huh, Quistis?" He sounded intensely agitated, and she found she was growing colder by the minute.

"Many things," she replied in as off-handed a manner as she could manage.

Seifer finally stood up, a little shakily. He was drunk. "Like what? What does Squall have that I don't?"

Quistis closed her eyes for a long while. It had come. Somehow it didn't surprise her all that much, but she felt a little dizzy and floating, like a coconut that had plummeted into the sea from the tall reaches of its father-plant. "Maturity," she managed to say.

"I'm older than Squall!" Seifer shouted.

Quistis stared at him. What he had said was so silly and miserable that she had a sad urge to laugh and cry at the same time. But she kept her voice calm, saying, "Look, Seifer, we can't even agree on what constitutes maturity. We quarrel," she gestured with her hands, "this much. We don't click in... that way. We can't be… together."

Seifer seemed to finally realize what he had let slip to Quistis. His shoulders slumped, and Quistis returned her attention to her work. She could let him pretend he hadn't said a word if he wanted. But before she could do anything he had kicked a pair of cans across the room with immense force.

"Seifer!" She got up from her chair. The cans skidded across the floor, sliding around her heels and crashing against table legs.

He was facing her, his eyes set and blazing. "Why do you have to like Squall?"

"I just do," she told him quietly, looking him square in the face.

He held her gaze for a minute before he broke it and swore, grabbing something from his shelf and hurling it onto the floor. Quistis winced at the impact. On the surface she was the epitome of calm, but somewhere within her she felt a stab of pain. "This is embarrassing, Seifer Almasy," she continued, bending to pick up the cans he had left strewn all over. "See you… around."

She left, struggling to ignore the fact that her heart was now in chaos.

(gradually getting louder)