Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VIII or its beautiful characters .. but I will one day ! x) It all belongs to SquareSoft. :salutes: -.-;;
Balamb Garden Amazing Race
Chapter Six ll Team Invigoration
Irvine Kinneas gazed almost longingly at his childhood friend as she waltzed about the flowery fields in absolute reverence. The rain had cleared up now, and feeble rays of sunlight strained through the feathery clouds and began to warm the slightly damp world of Winhill.
Winhill was as beautiful as ever, especially after the light shower that had fallen. The brown paths were dark with moisture and the air smelt fresh of rain and flowers. Irvine was sitting at the far end of an open meadow, littered gloriously with yellow buttercups and sunflowers. He was knee-deep in tall, sweet-smelling grass and a notebook was opened on his lap, waiting to be written in.
Out of all the kids he'd befriended and grown up with in the orphanage, Selphie had been his kindred spirit. It only hurt and disappointed him that she couldn't remember their firm bond nearly as well as he did. Of course, she was starting to recall bits and pieces of their childhood memories, and old feelings and attachments rose again as they grew closer each passing day. However, it would always be a gaping hole to Irvine, that she had forgotten some of the happiest years of their lives.
"Hey, Irvy!" Selphie called presently; he looked up to see that she had garlanded a bright yellow wreath around her head, "Come over here, it's just like the big garden at Matron's house that we used to play in!" To prove her proclamation, Selphie did a few twirls and giggled happily as she fell back onto the soft grass and flowers.
Irvine cracked a smile, "Maybe later, Sef... I'm working on the poem."
This caught her attention. Trudging her way through the waist-high grass, her wreath still upon her head, Selphie climbed up onto the stone ledge Irvine was sitting on, filling the air with a powerful fragrance of buttercups.
"You started without me?" she asked in a slightly wounded tone, brushing some petals off her brown boots.
"Yeah..." Irvine said hesitantly, "I couldn't help myself. Sorry, Sef. I wasn't trying to leave you out."
Her bright smile appeared on her sunny face and she said cheerfully, "That's alright. But remember, we're a team," she pointed very seriously at their yellow bandana, "So what have you got so far?"
Irvine smiled again as she spoke. Nothing could ever keep her down for long.
"Actually, I finished," he said rather sheepishly, taking his pen from his ear and scratching the back of his neck. He picked up one yellow sunflower he'd picked from the field that was lying beside him, and not meeting her eyes he said timidly, "I chose this."
"Let's hear it, then!" she chirruped, her green eyes aglow with delight.
Gently twiddling the yellow flower in between his fingers, Irvine nervously cleared his throat and adjusted the notebook in his lap. Feeling her eyes burning him, he took a deep breath and looked at the fragmented words on the page.
"Full of life, bright as day, the heavenly petals absorbing each ray," he read very carefully, trying to let the words embrace his soul again, "Radiating out the warmth and bouyancy from within, eternal sunshine to be seen..."
Irvine took a deep breath, his brown eyes wandering down to the next line.
"Her playful zest brings hope to the weary, her dawning happiness lighting upon all misery. She smiles a smile of rapture she doth employ... and forever restores my soul with joy."
The cowboy lifted his head tentatively, anticipating any reaction. Selphie looked both enraptured and astounded as she sat stock-still on the grey stone, her yellow wreath askew.
"Wow," Selphie finally breathed, looking at Irvine in reverent awe, "That was so pretty! I didn't know you could write poetry, Irvy. How did you come up with that so quickly?" she added in a hushed tone, taking his notebook.
"Well, actually..." Irvine's handsome face was a mixture of embarrassment and pride as he twiddled ever-more-nervously with the yellow sunflower that the poem had been written about.
"It's how... it's how you make me feel, I guess," he finished off with a sort of shrug.
Selphie immediately lowered the notebook, her expression both soft and curious.
"Really?" the brown-haired girl asked in a very soft, gentle voice that Irvine had rarely heard her use before. He chanced a glimpse at her to see her looking at him very intently, for once more serious and delicate than sprightly and excited.
For some reason, that look made him feel both relieved yet even more uncomfortable. Squirming, Irvine muttered, "Yeah... the sunflower reminded me of you..." He then looked out to the forever-yellow flower field to avoid meeting her gaze again.
In doing so, Irvine missed the small, budding smile of affection she had on her face; it was a rare smile that was the window to her true feelings and emotions.
Creeping closer carefully, Selphie straightened up and brushed a very light, shy kiss onto his cheek. Irvine started in surprise and looked at her avidly, only to behold the smaller brunette smiling back at him bashfully, evidently unsure how he would respond.
Irvine could only grin; words could only go so far sometimes. He reached out gently to bring her closer to him. They had sat like this many times, but for once there was a tender, peaceful silence; the familiar feeling of warmth and contentment enveloping them as they gazed out across the yellow splendor towards the horizon.
"Do you know what reminds me of you?" Selphie asked presently. Her voice was back to its usual, perky quality and immediately broke the lull that had been present.
"What?" Irvine wanted to know, thought he had an amused inkling that it wasn't going to be as poetical as his one.
"A horse."
Shizuka had often seen her poor mother chase her siblings around the house to get them to swallow up Dr Wakka's Hearty Cough Syrup, which came in four different flavours. And which all tasted rancid. In fact, she herself had been that fleeing victim once or twice or more times than that as the horrible syrup pursued her relentlessly, until finally it was forced down her throat and made her feel sicker than before.
She now had a small idea how her mother and that awful Dr Wakka must've felt. (After all those years of running after your whooping monsters, who wouldn't want to orchestrate the most feral syrup ever as revenge?)
The almighty Zell Dincht was sick.
And he would not admit it.
"Zell, come on, you have to sit still," Shizuka told him hopelessly as he traced his steps around another one of Winhill's beautiful, full, illustrious flower fields. It looked like a patchwork quilt, of mostly reds and purples but dotted here and there with other colours.
Still further the stubborn boy retreated until she gave up calling after him. Shizuka was no fool to the symptoms of colds. Sneezing and coughing and sniffling and inflamed foreheads were all very prominent signs. She'd insisted that they go stop by the local shop and purchase some cough syrup. Zell had yelped and ran away, repeating over and over that he was fine.
Shizuka didn't understand why Dr Wakka wasn't out of business yet.
Tucking a loose brown strand behind her ear, she tried to concentrate on the poem they had to write, but she couldn't stop fretting about him. What if he passed out and disappeared under a mass of red and purple?
She was absolutely worried sick.
"Zell!" she tried yelling at the faraway figure, putting down her pen, "Can you just please come back here?" She stared at him desperately, absently praying that he would listen to her.
"I'll be back soon!" came his faint reply.
Sighing resignedly, she sat back down on the ledge again, picking up her pen for the umpteenth time. She was no good at poetry, and though she certainly admired the orange rose they'd picked, she saw no point in writing some flowery lines about it.
There was no point in searching for an egg-timer, either... and making people tell us what the Dino Bone was...
Instead, Shizuka shut the notebook and played with the stem of the rose. Winhill certainly had the most phenomenal flora in all the world. She'd never seen an orange rose before.
She was sitting with her legs bent and her arms curled around her knees, the flower held up in front of her brown eyes. She was a pretty figure, adorned in a black skirt, black tights, a pink singlet and pink all-stars. Her chestnut brown hair was tied up in a long, straight ponytail, fixed in place with a black ribbon.
"Hey."
Shizuka blinked and was taken-aback to see Zell standing right in front of her.
"Zell!" she exclaimed, half in shock, half in relief, "You're back! Where'd you go? You really need to sit down and rest for at least a moment," she hastened to add.
"Alright, alright..." Zell complied, looking far more paler than usual but his spirit still at its frenzied peak, "Here, I found this." He passed her a single, pink flower that he'd managed to find. She took it uncertainly as he sat down beside her, taking deep breaths.
"I thought we'd decided on the orange," she said, confused, then adding in a lighter tone, "Pink's grown on you, hasn't it?"
Zell half-grimaced, swiping at a wet lock of hair so that his pink bandana whisked across, "No way. I just wanted to find a pink rose. It's... for you. I thought you'd like it."
He was attempting to sound casual, but the hint of blush gave him away.
Shizuka caught his eye and they both quickly glanced away shiftily, though a smile couldn't help but flit across her face.
"Thank you, Zell," she almost whispered, and they caught each other's eye again. Zell lifted and lowered one shoulder and looked away again, before letting out the loudest sneeze that was grossly indecent in the beautiful meadow.
"Auugh... man..."
"I told you you need cough syrup."
"Roses are red, violets are blue, Seifer is hot, you know it's true..."
This illuminating line of poetry was coming out of the mouth of a tall young man, his usually fair hair spotted disorderly with patches of bright red, like a cheetah. Deprived of waving his Hyperion around as it angered the peace-loving, quiet folks of Winhill, Seifer was reduced to swinging a bunch of red tulips above his head.
"Catch, Quisty!"
He flung the bouquet at his team mate who just managed to catch it. Upon seeing her flummoxed expression Seifer burst out laughing in a very carefree manner.
"I never thought you could get any prettier," he told her soberly as Quistis glared at him, "But that red streak really does compliment your eyes. Ah, the wonders of my brilliant ideas..."
"And I never thought you could look anymore ridiculous," she retorted, looking at the little 'accident' on Seifer's colourful tufts that had been the result of her flinging the bottle of dye onto his head in a moment of passion.
Seifer grinned, almost a smirk, not at all bothered by his bizarre hair style, "On the contrary, I think it's quite stylish. Makes us look more like we're together, you know? We're the reeeed team."
He grabbed her hand and began to pull her down the lane, Quistis letting herself be dragged along reluctantly.
"Roses are red, violets are blue, Seifer is always hot, and Quisty is too!"
"For heaven's sake..."
Rinoa Heartilly watched mulishly out of the window as the train came to a smooth stop at the place she'd always detested. Twilight was turning Deling City back into the noisy, busy, sleek, light-filled city it always was. The platform was flooded with people as the doors opened, and everywhere there was something happening. The station was full of the sounds of trains, voices and hissing noises as steam billowed out.
Squall was rummaging through their manilla envelope with his glowing red hands. They'd played A, B, C, D on the train and Rinoa sure could hit hard.
B.G. Amazing Race
Challenge
22. Both members do ten sit-ups, push-ups, star-jumps and squat-jumps. Each.
"Here?" Squall asked incredulously, looking around the relatively full platform.
"Yeah, let's see who gets it done first," Rinoa replied spiritedly, and began her ten star-jumps. Squall quickly joined in, much to the curiosity of the people around them.
"This is insane..." he mumbled as he reluctantly put all-fours to the dirty ground and began his impressive push-ups. It was a somewhat funny sight, two people doing aerobics in the middle of the station. Obviously foreigners.
"...and eight... nine..." Rinoa was breathless as she crouched down to the ground a final time then leapt back up, her hand punched up into the air, "Ten!"
Squall finished at the same time and immediately keeled back onto the stationary train, groaning.
"Alright... next one," Rinoa huffed in between pants and staggered over to him to take the next dreaded blue envelope.
B.G. Amazing Race
Challenge
23. Busk for fifty gil.
It was as though a heavy rock had struck him on the head. Squall stared at those horrible words, unable to fathom their meaning as his mind went into a nightmarish overdrive.
"Hey, this will be fun!" the girl he'd jumped out of a spaceship for piped up gleefully.
Squall could absolutely not believe her.
"Who made up these challenges?" he demanded in disbelief, to postpone the moment she actually voiced aloud the task and make it so terrifyingly true.
"Edea," Rinoa answered amiably, oblivious to the horror Squall was sinking into, "I think Xu helped, too."
He groaned very loudly, scrunching up his face and putting a hand to it, "You've got to be kidding me..." glaring at the paper in his hand he moaned again, "We're not homeless bums, for crying out loud..."
"Not everyone who busks is homeless," she protested, her trademark hand-to-her-hip, "C'mon, let's get out of the station first and we'll talk about it outside."
Once they got off the escalator, Rinoa ran forward to the pavement, obviously excited. He followed very lifelessly, as though he were walking to his death chamber.
"Alright, so what will we be doing?" she asked blithely, looking up into him with her heart-shaped face and dark brown eyes. Squall just stared back at her. He really didn't understand her sometimes. This was way out of his comfort zone, for goodness' sake...
"So, like... I really have no unique talent."
"I know! Did I ever tell you I can sing Popeye The Sailor Man and peel a banana with my foot at the same time?"
"You know... that's as unique as it gets..."
"I can break a board in half with my Mach Kick. See, I'll show you."
"Zell, don't! You're going to - "
WHAM!
" - run into that pole..."
"Ugh... ACHOO!"
"Roses are red, violets are blue, Seifer is mega hot, whooo!"
"You can sing."
There. It was settled. Rinoa had a nice voice. She could sing a little melody and everyone would come swarming up towards her, bestowing gil upon gil on her.
Squall felt himself breathe again, the cool city air filling his lungs and feeling oddly refreshing. More street and car lights flickered on as the sky gradually grew black.
"Squ-uall," Rinoa whined, not impressed with his attitude, "C'mon, we're a team! Hey, I know. How about we sing together?" She beamed at him and Squall wished she wouldn't, as her smiles really made him feel light-headed and somehow forced him agree to things he didn't want to agree on.
"But I can't sing," he explained very simply, taking great pains to impress on her the absurdity of such a suggestion, "I'll scare off all the people."
"No, you won't," she smirked at him slyly, "Don't you remember? 'You're the best-looking guy here... " he groaned as she quoted herself, " - 'Dance with me?' See? You'll attract all the girls, and it's always them who are loaded."
"And won't that bother you?" Squall couldn't help but ask.
Rinoa grinned up toward him, putting a hand on his face tenderly and forcing their different-coloured eyes to meet, "I won't mind sharing you for a little while," she said cheekily as he blushed a crimson under her caress, "So anyway. We're going to sing together, agreed?"
"I don't know any songs you do," Squall said bluntly, determined to escape the doom.
"Oh, yes you do," she said in a sing-song way, an annoyingly superior smile on her face.
"What?" he asked with a great sense of anticipation.
Rinoa stopped swaying from side to side and exclaimed laughingly, "The Balamb Garden school song, of course!"
The melody and horrible lyrics immediately hit him upside on the head and Squall felt like someone had punched his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The school song? On Hyne's grave, he would sing that. It had been composed by Selphie for heaven's sake, there was no way he was going to sing it out loud in front of people.
He'd rather hug a Malboro.
Honestly.
He really would.
"No, Rinoa," Squall shook his head firmly and hastily, "I am not doing that."
Irritation sat on her brow and her little delicate features showed signs of impatience. Her hum dying on her lips, Rinoa lifted both hands to her waist and stared hawk-like at him.
"Why not?"
"Because - because I don't want to."
"That's not a good enough reason, Squall," Rinoa said in a voice that could cut through ice, "You can't just refuse to do a challenge. We're partners, we're a team, and we have to work together."
Squall could not think of a reply to that, except a blunt, "I'm not singing."
Rinoa sighed very cuttingly and resentfully, gathering that Squall was immovable. He was not going to sing with her, and that was that. It was very disappointing as well as annoying. She'd thought he was beginning to loosen up and let himself have more fun. But then, she supposed, old habits died hard.
Instead of saying anymore on the matter, she checked the time and said in a steely voice, "It's almost seven. Let's just find a hotel and stay for the night."
Relieved, Squall nodded and they made their way to the plaza. Rinoa was walking half-a-pace ahead of him, which was very unlike her slow, wondering amble which allowed time for constant chatter with him, and he had to speed up to keep up with her. It was while they were walking, her back toward him, that he got the faint inkling that she was maybe upset.
At him.
Ignoring this and connecting her sudden silence and quick strides to the dislike she held for Deling City, Squall instead concentrated on how hungry he was and what he planned to have for dinner.
The hotel room looked just like the one Laguna and Julia had been in several years ago. It was long and cosy, the walls coloured in a rosy pink paint and the carpet a creamy crimson.
Without a word, Rinoa dumped her bag onto her bed, not caring if the sheets immediately got tussled up.
"Do you want to go get something to eat?" Squall asked her, feeling much freer without his backpack weighing him down.
"No," she replied shortly, none of the warmth present in her usually caring tone, "I'm going out." She moved towards the door without looking at him, carrying her phone and purse.
"Can I come?" Squall asked timidly at her retreating back.
Rinoa paused at the door and turned back. He almost cowered from where he was on the other side of the room.
"I think I can manage by myself," she said coolly, and he winced at the harsh meaning behind it, "Especially if you don't want to do things together anymore."
On this guilty-inciting note, Rinoa left, the door shut firmly behind her. There was silence in the room in which Squall felt his doom set in, before he sighed in shame and resignation and sat down on the bed.
She is so angry at me...
A/N: Poor Squall. (pats head) xD How will he get Rinoa to forgive him? Thank you everyone who reviewed! I was so indecently overjoyed puahaha. xD And I sincerely hope you'll share your comments with me on this chapter as well. Oh, and in case you don't know, busking means to entertain or do something for money. x) (showers you all with cookies) - msq.