"Train, train," she sang sleepily. "Take . . . far . . . train . . . Mmmm?"

Someone was nudging her—no, shaking her. She sleepily lifted an arm to fend them off, but they only took her hand and shook her some more. Maybe they were saying her name too. She was so content to sleep, why were they bothering her? How'd they get in her room, anyway? There was supposed to be a lock—

Selphie's eyes opened. The room sure looked strange. And it was definitely not her bedroom. Everything was so sideways and white. With a groan and a huge yawn, she sat up. That made everything look normal again, even with the film of sleep still over her eyes. She blinked a few more times to get rid of it completely.

The person holding her hand was Nida, and she snatched it back.

"President Laguna was wondering where you were. You missed your weekly meeting," Nida said.

"Oh," Selphie said, looking down at the papers she'd fallen asleep on. They all had drool stains. She gave a nervous chuckle and organized them into one pile. "I guess I'll go find him—" She got to her feet, but Nida put a hand in front of her.

"Maybe you should get some rest," Nida said.

Selphie sighed and glanced away a moment. It wasn't like Nida went to those meetings. He was just there, floating around, like he always had been since Quistis assigned him to Selphie. This was a different mission than rebuilding Trabia, but for some reason he was still here. What did he even do?

Clearing her throat, Selphie gently moved his arm away and sidestepped around him. Not bothering with a farewell or any words at all, she left the room. Only halfway to the meeting room did she remember checking the time was probably important. She had no idea how long she'd been asleep, it being an unplanned sleep. The clock read three hours past the meeting time, and cringing, she continued on her way, but changing destination to go back to her bedroom. If it was so late, she might as well sleep some more, even through till the early morning. After all, she remembered no nightmares or any dreams at all from her nap, so that had to be a good sign.

She'd been in Esthar just shy of four years now, a liaison between Balamb Garden and Esthar, and almost like the head of her own little task force to keep order in the wake of weird threats from nameless organizations. Then there was the anti-Garden propaganda that had been around for almost ten years, starting only a few months after the end of the war. After doing what she could for Trabia, she asked for another assignment, and Quistis, now headmistress of Garden in the wake of Squall stepping down to become a teacher, had given Selphie Esthar. There were few things better than working with Laguna to keep the city safe while also being privy to plans for the new space program—not just a single station anymore.

During those ten years, she'd adjusted her body to getting only about four hours of sleep every night. She managed to get so much work done with those four extra hours every day. Sometimes she used them to wake up early and work out, or she went to sleep late after studying some new information her people had dug up over the course of that day. Today she had slipped up, and she rarely did that. But again, maybe it was a good sign. And after the weird graffiti case they'd been working on the past few weeks finally coming to a close, it seemed like an apt reward to get some extra, peaceful sleep.

As soon as she made it to her room, the tiredness hit her like a punch to the gut and she laughed. She rubbed a hand against the side of her head. "Oh, I'm losing it, aren't I?" She tossed the papers onto her desk, stretched her arms, and stopped in front of her untouched bed.

Tilting her head to the side, she tried to recall the past few days. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't gotten much sleep through the whole graffiti case. Her bed was made, and there was no room service, so it had to have been her who made it. Sometime.

She put a hand in front of her mouth, and she yawned as she fell on top of the covers.

Her message box beeped at her. Someone was calling.

The sleepiness immediately whisked away, a skill of hers, and she jumped to her feet to answer. Laguna's face appeared on the screen. He was smiling at something as he rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes always got so squinty when he smiled, and Selphie loved it.

"Ser Laguna, sir!" Selphie said.

"Selphie," Laguna said. He gave a little cough and then his eyes opened a little more to their usual size. "Just checking in. You missed our meeting today."

"Right," Selphie said. "I should have contacted you, but I fell asleep and I only just woke up. Won't happen again. The room was just a little warm is all. I tend to fall asleep faster when it's warm."

"Ha, right," Laguna said. "Well, I'm glad to know you're all right. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Selphie thought a moment and then shook her head. "Nope. I'm doing a-okay. Can we reschedule our meeting for tomorrow, usual time? Hope it's not too much of an inconvenience, Mr. President, sir."

Laguna laughed again. "Not an inconvenience at all."

In the background came Kiros' voice, calmly reminding Laguna, "You have an appointment at that time tomorrow with the new head of the space division."

"Ahhhh." Laguna gave Selphie an apologetic look. "I'll check my schedule and give you a call back. Maybe you should use this time to take a break."

Selphie kept her composure, even if her hands curled into fists so tight that her fingernails pressing into her skin hurt. But, of course, her pleasant smile remained on her face, and she hoped the sparkle in her eye did too. "I suppose I need one. Been awhile. Ha." Been awhile, as in more than two years, and that "break" had only lasted a couple of days. Before and since then, it'd been seemingly nonstop work. But Selphie was fine with that, even preferred it. There was so much to do all the time, necessary or not, so she couldn't waste time away doing nothing at all. That's not what life was for, not for her anyway.

What's the minimum I can make it this time? Maybe even just a whole day! What will I even do . . . I guess I could sneak out to

"I'm actually going to make a reservation for you tonight at my favorite restaurant," Laguna said suddenly. "Do you want it for one or two?"

Selphie blinked. "Two?"

"Nida," Laguna reminded, almost a little nervously.

"Oh, right, right . . . Table for one is just perfect, then!" She stretched her smile wider.

Laguna sighed, and it sounded almost like he was relieved. Is he worrying about me? Rather than listen to his farewell and notice the screen going blank—she might have subconsciously bid him farewell herself—she focused on that, how he might have been worrying about her. That was wrong. She was supposed to worry about others, not the other way around. That's the whole reason I'm out here, right? The whole reason I joined Garden in the first place . . .

With a sigh of her own, she wandered back to her bed and flopped down on her side. The alarm clock on her night table read 5:03, which meant she probably had a couple of hours before that dinner reservation. The more she thought about it, the more inviting it sounded. It had been a long time since she'd eaten at a fancy restaurant.

The last time was a little more than a year ago, the most recent time she'd spent time with Irvine. He was a horrible teacher over at G-Garden, and occasionally the two of them took a day or two out of their schedule to see each other, catch up, and he was so oblivious to most things even now that Selphie found it all right to see him face to face. The others were more perceptive. They might have caught on if they saw her in person. She even suspected Quistis was close to finding out, and she and Selphie only ever talked over a computer screen.

Selphie curled her knees up towards her chest and let her eyes close. Maybe I can just rest for a moment . . . That . . . that sounds like a . . . good . . .


Two hours later

Someone woke up her up with a light knock to her door. She sleepily called out for them to come in, and then opened one eye out from under the pillow she had put over her head to see who it was: Nida.

"I asked for a table for one," she murmured.

Nida gave a small smile and knelt down by her bedside. "If you end up drinking, someone has to walk you home, right?"

"Who?"

With a yawn, Selphie uncurled her body and sat up. Her arms stretched high above her head, and then her back popped. She let out a contented sigh and swung her legs over the bed with no mind to Nida being right there; he just managed to get out of the way. Still in sleep mode, she wandered over to her closet. She opened the doors and then leaned into it, keeping herself up by gripping the sides of the doorway.

"Who says I'm going to drink? I'm the most anti-drinking person you'll ever meet," she mumbled as her eyes grazed over the few articles of clothing she owned. She was rather partial to the ones she had, and never wanted to get new ones. She had the funds for it; over ten years of being a SeeD and not spending a whole lot outside of basic necessities and her occasional donation to charities, she had accumulated quite the sizable savings.

"You must have been too drunk to remember all the times I've had to walk you home, then," Nida says.

Selphie just grunted and chose the only somewhat fancy dress she owned—chiffon yellow, as everything in her wardrobe had yellow in it. She changed in the bathroom and brushed her hair and then made her way out, Nida following hastily.

On the way there, she thought about what he said. It wasn't like her to really heed Nida's words—ever—but no one else had ever made a comment on her drinking. She'd made sure to hide it as well as she could. Of course Nida would have found out; she could hardly go anywhere without him breathing down her neck. As long as no one found out, it would be okay. They'd worry, maybe wonder if she was drinking too much, which she very likely was, and far too often . . .

Still, at the restaurant, sitting in a booth with dark, wooden tables and red velvet covered benches, she ordered a bottle of wine and an appetizer. Not having eaten anything for hours prior, the wine hit her fast and hard, but there was something different about being wine drunk. She ended up stumbling out of the restaurant, Nida pulling on her arm before she gave away her entire life savings to the server as a tip. The service had been great, and the server probably made next to nothing, so what was the problem, really?

She made it home in one piece, Nida escorting her all the way to her room. Before he could say goodbye, the door was closed and she was lying once more on her bed, giggling at nothing in particular, thinking maybe she might drink some water before she fell asleep, but eventually deciding that in this case, not moving was the more preferable option. And then she was out.


Next morning

Four hours later she was awake, head ripe with a hangover that she wished she could hit with a Curaga, but it had been years since she'd had to use any GFs. The last one had been Ifrit, seven years ago, when a horde of monsters attacked her and her party as they were working on the northern part of Trabia's outer wall. She was good with nunchakus alone, and the others were skilled themselves, but there had simply been too many. It had been so long that her body no longer knew what it felt like to use magic.

All things considered, it was an even trade. But she missed her GFs, and she missed being able to cast magic without even half a thought.

As she was sipping coffee, reading the reports from last night her people had forwarded, another call came in, this one long distance. Selphie tousled her hair to make it look extra bed-heady, brought her knees up onto the chair, slouched back, held her coffee in front of her, and then answered the call. She already knew who it was.

Quistis was just as beautiful as ever, but she had since changed her hair. The trademark long bangs were gone, and all her hair was down, slightly curled, and hanging over one shoulder. The morning was long gone from her face, and Selphie wondered just where Garden was at that moment.

"Quisty!" Selphie said, a genuine smile on her face.

"Hello, Selphie," Quistis said with a little chuckle. "Enjoying your morning? It's been awhile."

Selphie just lifted the coffee cup, both in answer and in greeting. "About seven months." She took a long swig. It burned the back of her throat a little.

"How's everything going?" And as if she expected Selphie to answer with something unwanted, she held up a hand and added, "I'm getting all your reports still." But that's not what I meant, she seemed to be saying.

"The space program's gotten a recent boost in funding this last month, so I'll probably be focusing most of my attention there," Selphie said. "Ser Laguna has let me be on the space program's head's advisory team. I'm the youngest one on there, but I think they find me a little intimidating. I have way too many ideas. I'm still drafting all my proposals and it's been four months. But I'll have more free time now that this graffiti case is finally dealt with."

Quistis gave a gentle smile. "That sounds fantastic. And I know how inspired your ideas can be. They're bound to seriously consider a number of them."

Selphie's cheeks grew warm, and she hid her face behind her coffee mug. "Thanks," she said.

"There's something I wanted to discuss with you," Quistis said, her tone changing, and that pit, the one that had lived with Selphie since the war, stirred.

"Of course. What is it? Not a new assignment, I hope? There's plenty of young SeeDs who'd be perfect for anything anyone's got for Garden," Selphie said. Not that either of them were very old, but Garden was definitely about giving the new, fresh SeeDs the most exciting or interesting assignments. For herself, being assigned to work for the Timber Owls way back when was definitely a . . . quirky idea. But that was back in Cid's days. Quistis was far more selective and apt in who she assigned to what mission. It was her personal mission to get to know each and every student as well as she could, and so far, she'd been quite successful. The students were happy, she was happy, Garden was happy.

So was Selphie, right then. It was good to know Quistis was doing so well.

"Not exactly," Quistis said, and her tone shifted again. In turn, the pit in Selphie's stomach growled in uncertainty.

Selphie put her legs on the ground and her coffee on the table. "Oh?"

"It's been brought to my attention that you . . ." Quistis stopped, perhaps displeased with the direction she'd been headed. So she switched gears. "For some time, perhaps too long a time without mentioning anything, I've noticed that you've been overworking yourself. And I'm not the only one who's noticed, it seems. Last night I got a call from President Laguna."

The words were coming. Selphie's eyebrows furrowed.

"He's worried about you."

Selphie's shoulders sagged for a moment, but then she perked up. "There's no need to be. You know me: I love working, keeping busy. There's so much to do all the time. And especially fighting in the war, seeing and doing all the things we did, it inspired me. So really, Quistis, when I'm tired or whatever, you'll know. It's pretty obvious when I'm bummed."

Quistis' face scrunched up a little in concern. "There's a difference between being bummed and how you're feeling now."

"And how am I feeling now?" Selphie snapped, and instantly wished she could take it back.

But Quistis' concern only grew. In a gentle voice, she said, "Selphie, as Garden's headmaster, and most importantly, as your friend, I'm requesting you take a sabbatical. At least through the rest of the summer. And then I'll make a final decision whether you need more time or if you're ready to go back to work."

"I'm really okay, Quistis," Selphie said quietly.

"I know I haven't spent time with you since you've been away, so maybe I can't really know, but you've spent years beside President Laguna, and especially Nida. If both of them have concerns, then I have to trust how I feel as well," Quistis said.

Nida?

Selphie shook her head and then leaned forward on the table. "All right, Quistis, maybe you're right. I can take a few months off, maybe go see Matron's orphanage. It's all pretty and renovated, right? And teeming with little monsters just like we used to be!"

"The orphanage?" Quistis sounded skeptical, but then she shrugged. "That will probably be a good change for you. I've already informed the President, and all the arrangements have been made. Officially, your sabbatical started at midnight today. I'll expect you to be in Centra by the end of the week."

"I'll be there even sooner than that!" Selphie promised.

Quistis smiled again. "You've never been one to dawdle. Thank you, Selphie."

Why are you thanking me?

"I miss having you around. We all do. Especially Rinoa," Quistis said.

A stab of pain cut through her heart. She missed the others too, more than anything. But her love for them was the whole reason she'd been away. They'd gotten so much done, were living their dreams. Like Rinoa, she'd started up an animal sanctuary in Balamb, working closely with Ma Dincht. She even sent pictures of all the new animals that came in, and the ones who got adopted away. Selphie loved those pictures. She was so happy Rinoa was doing something she loved, and Balamb was the perfect town for her.

"I miss you guys, too," Selphie said. She leaned forward even more and kissed the screen. "That's from me to everyone else. Make sure you give it to everyone. Even Squall."

Quistis cringed a little but chuckled nonetheless. "I'll be sure to do that. I hope your time at the orphanage is fruitful."

"I'm sure it will be. See you," Selphie said, waving.

Quistis waved back, and then the communication ended.

Selphie looked down at the reports in front of her, chewing on her lip. The sabbatical had almost thrown her for a loop, but she was glad the orphanage had popped into mind. Quistis was expecting Selphie to relax, but there was so much work to do there as well. With a whole plethora of children, there would be little rest to find, and Selphie was sure spending so much time with them would work just as well as working herself to death in Esthar.

And as awkward as her relationship with Matron was, it would probably be good for them to spend some time together. Selphie didn't see the enemy in Matron anymore, of course, but sometimes when went to sleep, she was haunted by her face when Ultimecia had possessed her. It hurt more when the person hurting you was someone you loved.

Maybe it'd be therapeutic. Matron was far more mature than Selphie, and had probably handled the effects of the war better than Selphie. Spending time with her, maybe sharing their experiences, would help both of them work through it.

But it had been ten years. Maybe Selphie would never work through it. They always said time healed all wounds, but Selphie had already given it a decade of her life, and still she seemed to be in almost the exact same place as before. It was impossible to move forward when her feet were stuck in cement, and there were no GFs on her side to break her from it.

So maybe Matron was the key. Or maybe it was someone or something else she hadn't crossed paths with yet. It sure wasn't Nida, that much she knew.

Is he coming along with me on my sabbatical too?

"As your escort, Headmistress Quistis said," Nida said when she met him in Laguna's office.

The President had summoned them to discuss their departure and when they might be returning. Selphie said definitely the end of the summer, and Nida said it might be a little longer. Either way, Laguna seemed pleased that Selphie was going.

"What?" Selphie complained. "Did I stop being a SeeD when I wasn't looking?"

"I almost wish I was going with you," Laguna said. "I've never been down there before, but I sure would love to see the place Squall grew up in."

Selphie giggled. "It'd be even better if you brought Squall along with you."

Laguna gave an unusually loud laugh at that, and then she noticed his leg twitching a little, but she made no comment on it.

"I've organized transportation for the two of you, ready to leave whenever you desire. Shouldn't take more than a day to get you there. Development of our shuttles has been on the rise this past year. Making better engines every day," Laguna said.

"Not quite every day," Kiros said.

"Well, that's not important," Laguna said, waving his hand in the air. "I would like it if you gave me at least a day's warning so I can make arrangements for your farewell."

"A day? What are you planning on?" Selphie asked in awe.

"Just a little thing is all," Laguna said, then winked.

Kiros rolled his eyes.

Selphie smiled. "Thank you, Ser Laguna. I'm looking forward to it! I'll probably be leaving tomorrow, then. So you can start your arrangements now."

Laguna's expression grew somewhat serious, but still full of adoration. "I'm sad to see you go, though."

With a blink, Selphie gave a nervous laugh and said, "Well, I'll be back in a few months. Don't worry!"

He just smiled.

Does he know something I don't?

Kiros leaned closer to Laguna. "Sir, you have an appointment with the health director in ten minutes."

"Right, right. Well, duty calls. I'll see you at the shuttle, Selphie. It's been an absolute pleasure working with you." He reached out a hand, but Selphie bypassed it and instead gave him a hug, standing on her tiptoes.

Laguna gave a little noise of shock, but then he put his arms around her and squeezed her back.

When she pulled away, Selphie saluted and then left. She walked briskly through the corridors until she burst through a heavy set of doors out onto one of the presidential palace's massive balconies. With her hands behind her back, she hopped over to the railing and then leaned her elbows on it. The wind blew through her hair, and with a smile, she closed her eyes and focused on its coolness as it gently caressed her skin.

If she could, she would stay as long as possible before leaving, but that would make leaving all the more difficult. She loved Esthar, probably more than anywhere else in the world, even Trabia. There was something about it that called to her, whether it was their focus on the future and the ever-advancing study of every area of the sciences. There was hardly anything they weren't researching. The place was a beacon of progress and culture and civilization, always moving, always shining. The place was quintessentially her.

Her eyes opened, sharp, and she gazed over the city. She knew every road, back road or main, and every building. Others needed a map, but Selphie had the whole place down in her head. She knew this place intimately, and loved every bit of it. Sometimes she thought it was a weakness, how strongly she loved something, someone, but right now she didn't. When she cared for something like she cared for Esthar, when she cared for someone like she cared for the rest of the orphanage gang and Rinoa, love couldn't possibly be anything but a strength.

Selphie jumped once in the air, her arms in the air. "Right!" she declared to nothing in particular. "The orphanage is just a new challenge. I haven't spent that much time around kids who weren't students at a Garden. You got this, Selphie!"


The next day, the farewell

No one woke her up or directed her anywhere in particular the next morning. It seemed a regular day, like the past hundreds she'd had in Esthar. She ate breakfast, read some more reports—the final ones for awhile—sent a letter to the officer who'd be in charge in Selphie's absence, did a thorough workout, and then rewarded herself after all of this with a relaxing swim in the palace's pool.

Only as she was drying her hair and thinking about packing all of her stuff up—she had relatively little—did someone sent her a buzz with a time and location of the shuttle. It was at the airstation, the platform used only for President Laguna, and just hearing that sent Selphie's heart beating wildly. The shuttle would depart at exactly 16:00, but they wanted Selphie to be there fifteen minutes early.

Selphie packed all her belongings in under an hour and sat on her bed, chewing on her lip, wondering what she was going to do for the next three hours. She pinged the kitchen to order some lunch, rather not in the mood to go out just yet, and was greeted by an unfamiliar voice:

"Good afternoon, Selphie. Would you like to order something for lunch?"

"You're not the usual lunch attendant," Selphie said. "Today your first day?"

There was a pause, and then, "Er, no, it's Nida. I was just here to get some lunch myself, and I noticed that the call was coming from you, so I offered to take it for them."

"Oh," Selphie said. "You sound completely different than you usually do."

"Really?" he asked in surprise. "Anyway, that's not important! You're probably starving. What are you in the mood for? I ordered the lunch special; it looks incredible today."

"I'll just get two hot dogs," Selphie said. They weren't as good as Balamb Garden's, but then again, nowhere matched the hot dogs there. They were like eating something handcrafted by a deity. And those lunch ladies at Balamb Garden definitely could qualify as deities.

"I'll bring it up for you in no time at all," Nida offered cheerily.

No time at all was exactly five minutes. Selphie ate her hot dogs cross-legged on her bed, smearing mustard and ketchup all over her face: her favorite way to eat hot dogs. Afterwards, she took a picture of it to send to Rinoa, Zell, and Irvine, and then wiped her face clean. After all, she couldn't have an official send off with a ketchup beard, could she?

She left early, dragging her luggage with her, so she had time to stop at one of the few shops in Esthar City not manned solely by a computer. It was a flower shop, the only one in the entire city, owned by a lady from Winhill, and who knew Laguna very well. She was ancient, it seemed, but still lively and full of passion when it came to flowers.

"How nice to see you, Selphie, dear," she said cheerfully. Then she eyed Selphie's luggage. "You're not leaving, are you?"

"Just for a few months," Selphie said. "But I promise I'll be back."

The elderly lady laughed. "Always doing something, aren't you? Well, here's a gift for the road, on the house." She pulled a long-stemmed yellow daisy from a bouquet and handed it to Selphie. "And maybe if you get the chance, you can stop by Winhill. My old shop and garden is still there. Kept up by a wonderful young man I met some years ago. If you see him, tell him I said hello!"

Selphie took the flower and gave it a little sniff. She looked at the old lady from over the flower and smiled. "If I stop by there, I'll make sure to do that."

"I can always count on you," the old lady chuckled. "And you, young man! Would you like one, too? I never did catch your name."

Suddenly Nida appeared—or, apparently he'd been there the whole time—and he smiled. "No, thank you, ma'am. I'm allergic to so many flowers, so I generally just avoid them altogether."

"Oh, gee, that's a shame, isn't it?" the old lady shook her head.

Selphie wrapped the long stem around one of the handles of her luggage until it stayed in place on its own. "When I come back," she said, "first place I'll stop is your shop. I'll try to bring a souvenir if I can."

The old lady blushed and began organizing some flowers. "Oh, no, dear, you needn't bother. Don't need to waste any time on little, old me."

Selphie leaned down and kissed the flower lady on the head. "It's not wasted time."

The old lady shook her head, muttering to herself. Selphie couldn't quite make out all of it, but it sounded something like, "Young people these days."

They spent some more time wandering through the streets, until Nida mentioned it was time they start heading towards the air station. Selphie pretended to ignore him, even though she changed direction towards the air station. Her steps were slower than her usual bouncing, quick pace. The air station was the last place she'd be before leaving Esthar completely behind. And though she intended still on fulfilling her promise and returning in a few months, a Selphie no one had to worry about, something inside her felt maybe that the steps she was taking now were final. It wasn't as if she would never come back at all, but that when she did, it would be awhile from now, in a whole different context.

What context, though? The uncertainty of it drove her a little crazy.

Luckily, when the air station came into view, all those thoughts fell away. Even just at the entrance stairs, there were Esthar soldiers lining the sides. She stopped a moment to collect herself as her eyes traveled along their line. It probably went all the way to the shuttle. With a swallow, she let go of her luggage, rubbed the soreness from her hands, then grabbed hold of them again and started forward.

The soldiers saluted as she walked by, and the ones she recognized, the ones directly under her command, she waved to them. Most of them saluted, but a few waved as well, and she winked at them. At the very end of the line waited the shuttle, along with Laguna, Kiros, and Ward. Selphie stopped in front of them and set her luggage down.

"I hope to see you again SeeD Tilmitt," Kiros said first, with a bow. "I found your company quite delightful."

Selphie put her hands behind her back. "Thank you."

Ward waved a hand in the air and smiled, and Selphie said, "Same to you, Ward."

Then she turned her focus to Laguna and she stood straight at attention. She gave the SeeD salute. "Thank you for letting Esthar City serve as my home the past few years. I really appreciate it."

"And we all appreciate the work you've done for us here," Laguna said. "I know the head of the space program is eager for your proposals in the future. From what he's told me, your first pitches were very intriguing!"

Selphie brought her shoulders together in embarrassment. "I may have gotten ahead of myself on a few of them, but I am working on making my official proposals more in depth. I'll be happy to share them when I return in a few months."

Laguna folded his arms. "Of course. I don't doubt it."

"Your shuttle will be departing in a few minutes," Kiros said. "You should probably board so you have time time to properly settle in."

"Do you think they'd let me fly?" Selphie asked as her eyes flicked to the shuttle. It was half the size of Ragnarok, and probably far easier to control. Besides, if she could figure out how to fly Ragnarok on her own in less than a day, than the shuttle probably would be a cinch. It would definitely make the trip more exciting and mind-consuming.

Laguna laughed. "I thought you might suggest that. You can sit in the other pilot's seat and watch how the pilot works everything. It'll probably be quite educational."

Selphie picked her luggage back up. "I'm sure I'll get it in no time. Until next time, Ser Laguna."

"Selphie," he said with a nod and a smile.

With a deep breath, Selphie turned to the shuttle. "Here goes nothing."


The next day

The pilot dropped them off at the beach, and then, with the briefest of goodbyes, was gone. Selphie wandered a few feet from her luggage, feet digging into the soft sand, and gazed up towards the orphanage. The last time she'd seen it, it had been crumbling, only half-alive, and very quiet. Even from here she could hear the laughter of playing children, and the walls looked so strong and bright. It was strange to be back after so much time, with only the memories of the orphanage during the war, and the even more distant memories of her actual time as a child there.

Actually being there, it felt so right. The decision had been spur of the moment in her conversation with Quistis, but maybe it had been made from some unconscious desire. After all, she'd been far too busy to really think about anything outside Esthar and her work there. But this was definitely where she needed to be, so a part of her thanked Quistis for suggesting the sabbatical. The rest of her was scared what the future would hold, then. Until she set foot on the beach, it had been to definitely go back to Esthar City and pick up right where she left off.

This place wouldn't let her do that, though, would it?

"Shall we?" Nida asked behind her.

She jumped a little and then spun around. "Right! Yes." She grabbed her things and lugged it up the cliff trail until she was standing outside the back door of the orphanage. Matron was expecting her today, so just walking in would be no real surprise, but still, Selphie knocked and waited.

It was Cid who opened the door. When she saw her, he pushed up his glasses and grinned. "Selphie! How good to see you. Come in, come in. You too, Nida. I can get your luggage." He ushered them both in with an arm and then tended to their luggage.

A couple of kids ran out of one room, circled around Selphie, and then disappeared into another one.

Images flared up in her mind, but not the usual ones. These were happy, old. Irvine used to chase her around these halls. And Seifer would chase Zell. Quistis played peacekeeper. Squall was always on his own, usually outside, always waiting for Sis . . .

Selphie shivered and rubbed her arms, though it was far from cold here.

A moment later, Matron appeared from the room the kids came from. She stopped abruptly when she saw Selphie, surprise on her face, and then her eyes sparkled. "Selphie. How are you?"

"Oh, you know, moving, moving, moving," Selphie said. "Esthar City sure keeps you busy. But I love it."

Matron gave a tiny smile. "I'm glad. You're the only one who hasn't visited since the war . . . Things are quite different than they used to be, even when you were here."

"Looks like it! This place looks amazing," Selphie said, glancing around again to take in all the details. All the stone was smooth and uncracked, and beautiful, fresh oil paintings hung all along the walls. The floor was new stone, as well, but covered in elaborately decorated, warm-hued rugs. On the side tables rested some horrible, mangled, but amazing, sculptures, no doubt made by the children. Their creations must have been everywhere around the house, and Selphie wanted to see all of them.

Cid moved to Matron's side, now finished moving the luggage in. He put his arm around her waist and smiled proudly. "We've both worked tirelessly at it. I think I can safely say we're living our dream."

Selphie's lips pursed. Hadn't Garden been their dream? Or that one seen accomplished, was this the other one?

Either way, it was good. Selphie was happy for them, even if she didn't quite know what to say to them. Taking more after Quistis, she clasped her hands in front of her, gave a tiny bow, and said, "Thank you for having me. I'll try not to be too much trouble."

"Like you used to be, eh?" Cid said with a booming laugh.

Matron smiled too, but said gently, "You won't be any trouble at all, Selphie."

"Actually, if you wouldn't mind, I'd really like to help out around here in any way I can," Selphie said.

Immediately, Matron said, "Of course."

"Why, yes!" Cid said. "That sounds like an excellent idea. Here, I'll show you to your rooms, and then perhaps we can talk some more about it over some tea or coffee." He laughed again, mostly to himself. "Or maybe some brandy. We've got some good brandy, fresh from the finest distilleries in Timber."

"Cid . . ." Matron said in a chastising tone, most likely not meant to be heard by others, but Selphie caught it and she smiled a little.

Her room was on the new second floor, and had the best view of the ocean in the house, right above her bed. She knelt on her bed for a few minutes just staring out over the noon sunlight on the water. In Esthar, it was difficult to see the sunrise and sunset, even from the presidential palace, but here, she would be able to see both unhindered by anything at all.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Selphie, Nida, Matron, and Cid all sat at the table with cups of tea before them. Brandy sounded most appealing, but thinking back on her conversation with Nida not long ago, she decided to keep quiet about it until it later and only Cid was around.

The others all seemed comfortable, but Selphie couldn't keep her gaze off Matron. The ex-sorceress pretended not to notice, but Selphie saw through it. Yet, she didn't stop. Her body wouldn't let her, or at least, her mind wouldn't. The woman was no longer her enemy, and her powers had long since transferred to Rinoa, and yet, being so close after so long flared up so many memories, and not good ones. Her mind was telling her one thing, while her heart was telling her another.

Her thoughts cut off when Cid directly spoke to her, having moved on from his conversation with Nida and Matron. "So, what were you hoping to help out with? Honestly, mostly it'd just be spending time with the kids. It can get pretty tiring for Edea and me. Having some young blood around sounds like a great idea."

"I've always loved kids," Nida added.

Selphie nodded. "I'd have a lot of stories to tell them, and I've learned so much, I'm sure there's plenty I could teach them. Back in Esthar City on weekends, I sometimes taught a self defense class. There's a lot of other things I could teach them here, though."

Matron took a sip of her tea and set it carefully back in the saucer. "Yes, I don't think self defense classes are right for the kids right now. If anyone of them decide to go to Garden, then perhaps . . ."

Selphie bit her lip and glanced into her amber tea. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Don't worry about that, though. I'm just saying, I'm a real good teacher."

"She is. I've sat in on loads of her classes," Nida said.

"You have?"

"That's great, then!" Cid said. "You can start as soon as you're ready to. I'm sure the kids would love it. And I'm sure they'll be happy to see some new faces besides my wrinkly one, ha ha!"

Matron reached over and put her hand on his. "Your face is lovely, dear."

Cid took her hand, lifted it, and kissed it. "Not as lovely as yours."

It was never like that with Irvine and me. That was always off. It's nice to see people find others they click with. Matron and Cid . . . Rinoa and Squall . . . Selphie smiled.

"There's also the matter of our hired help," Matron said. "He comes around every so often, fixes things, makes sure the gardens are in order, things like that. So don't be surprised when you see him. He usually keeps to himself, though."

"All right. I'll try not to jump him," Selphie said with a laugh.

Cid slapped his hands on the table. "Well, do you want to meet the kids? All twenty-two of them?"

"Twenty-two!" Nida exclaimed.

They had greatly expanded one of the rooms, and the twenty-two kids and their caretakers fit easily. The wall was simply covered in original artworks by the kids, all of them signed in the corner. That's how Selphie met each kid. She walked around to each painting, and whomever's it was, they would jump up, shout their name, and then give a little history on the particular piece they had displayed on the wall. At the end, Selphie maybe remembered four of them, but in time, she'd get them. She was good with names and faces.

After dinner, they all sat in the great room together, Selphie on a chair at one end with a little girl in her lap, the youngest there, and the rest cross-legged on the floor.

"Are you going to tell us a story, Sephy?" one of them called out.

"Tell us a story!" another demanded.

"How bout a story for a story?" Selphie asked. "Is that a fair trade, do you think?"

In the back of the room, Matron and Cid smiled, then arm in arm, left the room, leaving the rest of the evening in Selphie and Nida's hands.

The kids all agreed that was fair.

"All right," Selphie said, humming as she wondered which story to tell. There were so many to tell, especially from the war. But she'd save those for later, when she was ready to tell them. Instead she decided on her years at Trabia after the war, specifically that time she had to call out Ifrit to protect she and her friend from the unexpected horde of monsters.

The kids leaned in, listening with all the focus their little bodies could muster, eyes the size of walnuts. They gasped in all the right places, and at the end, when Selphie was standing on top of chair, reenacting exactly all the moves she'd made, they stood up too, waving their arms in the air, rooting for her to defeat the monsters. And when she finally did, they all jumped up and down, hugged each other, cheering in victory.

The little girl who'd been in Selphie's lap before the climax asked about Ifrit, if she could see him.

Selphie sat back down. "He's not junctioned to me anymore," she said, "but I still keep him around, just in case some more monsters decide to gobble me up!" She tickled the little girl's sides until the girl was crying from laughter, and then picked the girl up and set her back on her knee. She turned back to the kids. "I can show you all his stone tomorrow if you promise to be careful with him."

"We promise!" they all said in unison.

"Now it's time for a story from you, then," Selphie reminded.

A kid in the front volunteered. "There's a guy that comes around here all the time," he started.

"The handyman, right?" Selphie wanted to confirm.

"Yeah!" the kid said, his eyes bulging again. "No one's ever talked to him, not even seen his face. Matron and Mr. Cid said he's a real nice fellow who fixes stuff around here, but I think he's secretly a convict! And no one will hire him except Matron and Mr. Cid because they're real nice people."

Selphie grinned. "Oh no! A convict? What did he do?"

The kid grabbed his shirt collar like a distinguished gentleman. Proudly, he said, "Well, I think he's a murderer from the Galbadian Army. From back in the war days, you know. He tried to take down President Deling single-handedly, and he almost won before the sorceress came! But the army was so scared of him, because he was so powerful, that they kicked him out, so he comes here."

"That'd be quite the man!" Selphie said.

Another kid jumped to her feet. "No, no, he's a famous monster hunter from around Dollet! He spent one whole month alone on the Island of Hell and survived. But he got so tired from all that monster hunting that he came down here."

"Puh-lease!" the oldest kid there, at twelve, said. He stood up in the back and then rounded to the front. "Let me tell you the real story that Matron and Mr. Cid told me."

"They did not!" the second girl said, sticking her tongue out.

"Sure they did. I'm the oldest. When you turn twelve, you get to know things," the kid said.

"And what did they tell you?" Selphie asked. She doubted a scrap of their stories were true, even this one that was supposedly told to him by Matron and Cid. But she wanted to hear all of them. The kids were so into it, and not knowing who the man actually was herself, it was fun to see what the kids thought of him before she perhaps met the man herself.

The twelve-year-old cleared his throat. "The man was born to be an experiment! A human-monster hybrid. In the moonlight, he's forced to revert to his monster shape. A bloodthirsty creature with six-inch long claws, and even longer fangs!" He curled his hands like claws and bared his teeth. "That's why you see him go out into the meadow at night. If he's here at the orphanage, then he'll try to eat us!"

Definitely not true. But Selphie loved every word of it.

"And then, when the sun comes out, he goes back to being human. But he's torn, you see. He hates himself, he hates that he's half a monster. It eats at him all day and all night. He doesn't think he can be a real guy, because he's afraid to hurt people, or for people to hate him," the kid went on. "But Matron and Mr. Cid let him work here, and they say one day he'll be brave enough to come say hello to us. But until then—"

He jumped at the kids with his claws and growled at them. They collectively gasped and leaned away. The kid laughed and sat back down in the back.

"Well, those are are certainly cuh-razy stories, aren't they?" Selphie asked. "Who wants to be brave and go meet him next time he comes?"

All the kids sit up straight in fear, some shaking their heads vigorously.

"All right, then how bout me?" Selphie said, letting the little girl sit on her shoulders. Then she stood up. "I'm going to say hello to him next time he comes and see if he really turns into a monster!"

"Don't do it, Miss Sephy, don't do it!" one of the girl cried out.

"I don't want you to get eaten, Sephy!" another cried.

Selphie gave a little giggle and smiled. "I won't get eaten. I've got my nunchakus, and nothing can beat those!"

The fear dissipated, and suddenly all the kids wanted to see her nunchakus. Selphie had to promise them they could see it later, but that they all needed to get ready for bed because it was getting late. They all groaned, but nonetheless complied.

"I've got them!" Nida said.

"What? You know how to tuck kids in for the night?" Selphie asked suspiciously.

"Sure," Nida said. He cracked his knuckles and gave her a thumb up. "Don't worry about me."

"It's not you I'm worried about," Selphie said as he followed after the kids.

A few moments later, she was left alone in the great room, surrounded on all sides by children's artwork and scuffed up rugs. Selphie stretched her arms above her head, popped her back, and let out a content sigh. The kids were a handful, and super loud, and she'd probably be more exhausted at the end of every day than she had at Trabia, but the kids were extra diverting, more than anything so far. This was the right choice, she was fully certain now.

Before she too went to bed, she sneaked off into the kitchen to find Cid's brandy. She poured herself a small glass and sipped at it while she watched the sunset out the kitchen window. The problems of the world were far away from this place, but after so long, she could hardly go without a little something to keep her going.

Still, tomorrow would be the first morning where she didn't have to worry about weird cults, and anti-Garden propaganda, and disorderly conduct in the shopping mall, or anything like that at all. She could just spend time with the kids, herself, a little with Matron, and be surrounded by the sweet symphony of the waves and seagulls. She could have a busy mind and a peaceful heart both.

That sounds real nice.

She lifted her glass in the air. "This is for you guys, wherever all of you are right now. Maybe I'll get to see you soon. I guess you never really do know."


Two weeks later

Time moved by at a steady pace, and all the days were consistent like that. In Esthar, it had been fast, slow, all over the place. But the orphanage was solid, like it had its own time that was in line with a calm, beating heart—probably Matron's. July had started three days ago, and the kids were spending more time down at the beach in wake of a massive heat wave.

On the fifteenth day Selphie had been there, the handyman arrived. He stayed mostly out of sight, and Selphie didn't really know he was there until she was running back to the orphanage to grab more lemonade for the dozens of thirsty kids on the beach. She saw Matron already with the pitcher and glasses, standing just outside the back door, looking over at someone with blond hair in the garden. When Selphie came into view, the handyman saw her and vanished among the plants.

"So what was him, huh?" Selphie asked in interest as Matron came up to meet her.

"Yes. He'll probably be here for a few days. Mostly tending the garden right now. The heat wave's had a big impact on them," Matron said.

The two of them stood there for a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, and then Matron offered the tray. Selphie took it carefully with a tiny thank you.

"You might find talking to him . . . well . . ." But rather than find the right word, Matron shook her head and said, "Never mind. I don't know nearly enough to have any say in the matter."

Selphie frowned. "Why? Who is it?"

"An old friend, maybe," Matron said. "I'm going to go back into the house and take a nap."

"Oh, okay. Right. Have a nice nap. I'll just . . ." She lifted the tray a little. "Get this lemonade to all the little monsters on the beach. Ha, Sama already tried to go find some Fastitocalons and I just barely managed to stop him before he probably disappeared forever."

Matron covered her mouth with her hands, but she did sound a little humored. "Oh, dear. He tries it every year. We'll have to keep an extra eye on him."

"Sleep well," Selphie said, and turned away before the conversation got any more awkward. Some time had passed, but even then, three weeks wasn't enough for Selphie to know exactly what to say and exactly how to feel with Matron. But it'd come to her, she knew that. It had to.

The lemonade was gone in less than a minute, and then the kids were back in the water. Selphie sat down in the sand, a giant hat on her head to keep the sun off her skin. Her legs stretched out in front of her, eager to soak in the rays, though.

An old friend? Well, I know a lot of people in the past who might secretly be murderers or monster-human hybrids, but none of them exactly friends. Why can't she just tell me who it is? She glanced back at the clifftop. No one was there, but with the kids here, and Matron sleeping, it was the perfect time to find this handyman and finally know what face belonged to the stories the kids told about him. She'd heard many more since the first day.

"I can watch the kids if you need to get some rest," Nida said, walking up.

"Huh? Oh, no, I'm not tired," she said and laughed. "Me, sleep at this time of day? No way. Not even when I'm eighty years old." She hopped to her feet. "You stay here and watch the kids, though, I need to just check on something."

Nida blinked. "That's literally what I just . . . Ah, forget it. I'll be here."

Selphie jumped back to her feet and traipsed up the cliffside path until she reached the orphanage again. She checked every room for the handyman, only finding Matron and Cid both asleep on one of the couches, Cid being the little spoon. Selphie smiled and looked at them for a few seconds before continuing her search.

Eventually, she went outside closer to the meadow. They'd planted the garden between the orphanage and the great expanse, the outer half being home to flowers, and the inner half to vegetables and fruits. She hid behind a pillar when she saw the handyman in a white tanktop kneeling down beside what looked like a tomato plant.

Stomach suddenly knotted in fear, she peeked around the side of the pillar, waiting for the stranger to turn enough to see his face. His hair was blonde, a little shaggy, but clean. She also noted he had very nice arms, but that was of no consequence. Clearing her mind, she focused all her thoughts into scouring the details of his head, as if that would reveal his identity.

When he moved, she squeaked and hid behind the pillar again, feeling like a teenager again. She let her beating heart calm back down before she finally peeked around one more time.

All it took was one second, him staring at her, expecting her, and she recognized him. Hoping to not give him the same chance, she quickly hid behind the pillar again, and made sure to keep her back to him as she made her escape.

Luckily, no one followed her back into the apartment. Well, maybe he didn't recognize me, so he didn't care.

"Ha, monster-animal hybrid, Galbadian murderer . . ." she said to herself, sounding half-mad. "Though, monster hunter . . . that one's kind of true." She let out a laugh, rubbing her cheeks with her knuckles, as if that would somehow erase the fact that, yes, Seifer Almasy, Seifer Almasy was outside this very moment, doing gardeny shit with a tomato plant.

Selphie went to the kitchen. All the ingredients for lemonade were still out, so she made herself a single serving, and then making sure no one was looking, snagged the brandy and poured a little into her lemonade. She stirred the whole thing together until it was this ugly brown-ish color. In two seconds, the whole things was down her throat, and she was slapping the glass down on the table, wincing at the disgusting concoction she had just made.

She made herself another one.

That one didn't disappear as fast as the other one. Instead, she paced back and forth in the kitchen, holding it in a hand. "Seifer Almasy is in the garden. Seifer Almasy is just outside. Seifer Almasy is less than a hundred yards from me. Seifer Almasy is alive and seemingly okay and unharmed. Seifer Almasy, the guy who once tried to kill me and my friends, who helped blow up Trabia, he's . . ." She stopped.

Her hand gripped the glass tighter. "He's just outside . . . I'd always just thought he was dead . . ."

Someone knocked on the door frame, and there was Cid, glasses askew, hair a little messed up, but a gentle expression on his face. "You should have invited me for some of that."

Selphie glanced at him, then her drink, then looked back at him. "Sorry. I didn't ask."

"No problem at all," Cid said. "I'd never drink it all by myself." He yawned and sat down at the table. "Everything going well with you?"

"Well?" Selphie thought about that a moment. She took a step towards the table, set her glass down carefully, then leaned toward Cid. "Did you know that Seifer Almasy is your handyman?"

Cid adjusted his glasses and then gave her slightly squinty-eyed look. "Well, yes, I did know when I hired him." He chuckled a little. "Would have to be blind to miss that."

Selphie straightened up. "But Seifer . . . Seifer, he—"

Cid held up his hands. "Yes, yes. I am well aware."

"But—"

"But people change. He's had a lot of time to think back on that war, same as you have, Selphie," Cid said. He gave her and even look. "If someone tries to live a good life, to make up for his past mistakes, then he should be given a chance to live in peace, shouldn't he? Even be forgiven. Now Matron and I have forgiven him."

Selphie backed away and rested against the counter. "Why didn't you just tell me right away?"

"Would it have changed anything?" Cid asked, shrugging.

"I don't know. Maybe," Selphie said quietly.

There was a momentary silence, and then Selphie asked, "Does anyone else know? I mean, I feel like they would have told me if they knew."

Cid shook his head. "No. Any time someone's visited, Seifer's been away. He's not here incredibly often. But since you're staying here for a prolonged amount of time, of course you'd eventually see him."

Selphie clenched her jaw and stared at the floor. "You want me to forgive him?"

"I don't want you to do anything," Cid said. "I don't have any agendas here. Me and Edea are just living out our lives here and taking care of the kids here in this orphanage. Then you're here, and then Seifer's here." He picked up the lemonade and gave it a sniff before taking a sip. "As a SeeD, you come across all kinds of people, no one ever the same as anyone else. Now, Seifer's rather special in that SeeD career of yours, I understand that, but . . ."

He downed the lemonade and then got to his feet. "He had many qualities to make a damn fine SeeD. One of the best, perhaps. He still does, really. And maybe all the things that disqualified him are gone now. A lot of time has passed since the war, since he was a teenager like the rest of you. I'm not saying that excuses his actions, but you have to look at the bigger picture. That's all I'll say on the matter. What's between you and him is between you and him. But you know . . . You don't have to talk to him."

Selphie finally looked up at him. She glanced at the empty glass and was slightly relieved he had deprived her of it. One glass was already too much. "No, you're right. I have to be level-headed about this, don't I? Because I'm not a teenager anymore either. Things have . . . changed."

Cid smiled.

She pushed off the counter. "I'd honestly completely forgotten about him. But now that I saw him again, so many things are coming back again . . ." I thought I'd gotten rid of them. Why can't I just get rid of them? Has everyone moved on but me?

She'd had the nightmares here, but far fewer than she usually did. That was a good sign. When she went to bed tonight, would they return full force like they had been after time compression?

"I'm going to go back to the kids," Selphie said. "They're what matter right now. Thanks for the lemonade." She slipped out past him without another word and rejoined the kids back on the beach. She sat down in the very same place as before, and this time, she didn't get up until hours later when the sun was going down and it was time for the kids' bedtime.

When they were all safely tucked away in bed, and the house was quiet except for the crickets and the ocean, Selphie lay down in bed, atop her covers. It took less than thirty minutes for the nightmares to hit, the sound of the alarms at the missile base, the feel of Zell and Irvine's hands holding hers, all of them so sure they were going to die . . .

The kitchen held the only solace. She grabbed the bottle of brandy, not bothering with a glass tonight, and made her way outside in the cool, night air. As she walked, she took the occasional sip of brandy, letting the warmth flow into her belly, specifically targeting that grey lump she hated with all her being. The meadow was used to her walking through it after the sun went down. She didn't always have a bottle of brandy with her, but some nights, like tonight, it was necessary.

She wandered through the expanse, no particular destination in mind, especially the more the alcohol affected her. Some nights she could control herself, stop at the perfect point and then ride it out, but other nights she just kept going, the idea of stopping laughable. Tonight was the latter, and it made her sad to think so, because tonight was one of the loveliest nights she'd spent in the meadow. Even though she knew she was alive and healthy, and that she would be that way for quite awhile, the feeling from the dream remained. Once the timer got to zero, she and her friends were gone.

The world would have thought nothing of it.

Selphie stopped and stared back at the orphanage in the distance. It looked so tiny and unassuming from here, not like the warm, cozy, and loving place it was. You couldn't know it was a haven for anyone at all. She should have gone here directly after the war, even if it was still broken. She could have helped Matron and Cid rebuild it. And maybe then things wouldn't be so bad with her.

Have I made any progress at all? Maybe my plan just made things worse.

She started walking again, this time backwards, and it made her giggle. That was the alcohol.

She kept walking, walking, until suddenly she smacked into something. The bottle fell from her unexpected hands, spilling over her shoes. Cursing, she turned, expecting a lonesome tree, and instead found herself looking up into the round, cerulean eyes of Seifer Almasy.