When I awoke I couldn't see, only hear. I assumed feeling and smelling would follow.
I fumbled through my bag to find something to eat. I didn't care what, I was starving. My breathing was loud in my ears. Birdsong filled the thick air, and when it didn't the patter of dew falling off the trees and onto whatever lay below tattooed its own beat. Everything was louder; it sounded like I was eating my teeth as I chewed.
The fog had only grown thicker through the night and it appeared to have no intensions of leaving anytime soon. Blinking away the sleep from my eyes, I lifted my head from my pack and looked around at the slowly fading charcoal darkness. Everywhere I looked the view was the same, only changing when I came within touching distance of an actual object.
All around me the sounds of the forest continued. They seemed to be everywhere. A rustle of foliage signaling the passing of some critter. The beating soggy wings of a bird waking to take morning flight. Breezes sending the cascades of trapped water off leaves and branches.
Silence was a lot noisier than I remembered.
I enjoyed that revelation for all of the three minutes it took me to remember the moments before I must have fainted the night before. Fear. It made the fog oppressive and infinitely lonely. I remembered fear. Not fear of whatever predators might stalk the arbor, but of the prey that hunted me.
The morning brought me control over it, though it was still there.
"You're a SeeD, Tilmit. Act like one." Strange Vision didn't need me to see my target to hit it, and I held onto it tightly in my right hand, allowing it to drag on the muddy skin of the damp ground as I walked in Hyne knows what direction.
"Probably shouldn't talk to yourself Messenger Girl. Might go insane out here all alone."
All that self-control was torn away in a moment from that voice that came from all around me. Though my heart hammered enough blood through my body to ferry a barge, not enough of it was reaching my brain, because I didn't know what to do, or even feel, about the man who sent missiles that killed many of my friends and mentors and the boy who grew up protecting me. The newfound command of my memories made things so complicated…
What would Quistis do…? I thought, walking slowly with my weapon brandished. Keep him talking until I think of something. Banter!
"So you're a psychoanalyst now?"
I swear I could feel his shrug wave through the heavy air. He was ahead of me. The faint smell of campfire and an orange glow on the grey marked his location.
"Who better to judge than someone who's been there?"
That sentiment gave me pause for passing time, but kept walking until I was before the fire. Only then did I realize how much the damp air had soaked and chilled me. I sat next to the welcome flames.
"You've been there?" I continued.
"I think you know that, Selphie," he sighed and I was taken aback by the odd tone, the unusual use of my real name, and the hidden meaning behind the words.
My head cocked to the side. "Does… Does that mean you aren't there anymore?"
He was staring at me. I could feel it even thought I still couldn't see him across the ochre ink that was the fire.
"I think so."
That was honest. And scary.
My mind reeled. Why couldn't I summon hate for this monster of a man, who couldn't tell if he was sane?
Probably because all I could see over the flames was a lost little boy, all ideals and romance, who might have the flint of anger but never the glint of madness in his eyes like the tides. He was a boy I used to chase after he ran off when he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to, like when he decided that Zell's bedding would be put better use as a parachute to use when jumping off the lighthouse.
I slowly crossed my legs underneath me, adapting to the fact that I had no answers, I accepted the questions instead.
"Why did you want it to be Quistis who came after you?"
Another shrug, I was sure.
"I can manipulate her. I could be sure I could get her to hate me."
"But not me?"
"No."
"Why not? I don't think there's anyone with greater reason to hate you, excepting all the parents, brothers, and sisters of those you killed." The camp crackled and spat. Green lunacy of his eyes in the war filled my mind. "Why couldn't you resist her?" I asked him, more mildly than I intended.
There was a whisper of clothing in motion across the way and rhythmic snapping of twigs. He was pacing. I tensed and got to the balls of my feet.
"I don't know," he finally said. I thought he'd go on, but he didn't.
I sighed. "You're right. I don't know why, but I can't hate you."
"You never had it in you to hold a real grudge. Always quick to anger. But quicker to forgiveness. That's Selphie." He sat down beside me.
Whirling toward him, I demanded shakily "What are you doing? Just because I can't hate you doesn't mean I trust you. Stay back!"
"I thought I'd try to see you."
Only a few feet from me, I couldn't make out his face, or form. The haze shifted. Or maybe not. I couldn't tell.
He chuckled. "I guess not."
The fire slowly flickered in the gloom. It would go out soon.
Seifer started pacing again.
"Where are you going?"
"I thought you wanted me to stay away."
I sighed. "No. I mean, what are you going to do? Where are you headed?"
"I don't know. Away."
Had he ever been this unsure before? Ever?
"Away from what?"
An exasperated sign spanned the distance between us. "Fuck, Tilmitt. Everyone, everything. Myself if I can manage it. You and your unending list of questions…"
"You don't really mean that."
No answer came as the minutes passed by, not that I'd asked a question. In front of me he'd stopped walking and the fire stopped burning. All around me was unending grey and it was so much like time compression it was unsettling. My mind could, and would, come up with all manner of unpleasant ways to fill and empty the blank canvas of this world without borders or content. I shivered as it grew cold and quiet again.
I didn't like it so much this time.
"Are you still there?" I asked timidly.
"Yeah," he responded. "You disappointed?"
"No." I probably sounded more relieved than I wanted to. "I… I like to have company. I hate being alone. Especially when it feels so much like time compression." I recalled how our bonds, faith, and love for each other had been able to bring us 'fated children' from the purgatory of time compression, and I wondered, "How did you make it out?"
His laugh was short and sounded a bit like a sneer. "I'm starting to wonder if I ever did." Seifer swallowed audibly, but then everything in this cloudy world was audible, and I could tell he'd moved closer again. "You were right. I didn't really mean it, but since I can't be close to anyone, I might as well move away."
Despite everything, I swear I could hear my bleeding heart breaking over the sounds of nature. He must have grown bolder or more desperate since I didn't tense again.
"Tilmitt… Selphie." He hesitated. "Can I touch you?"
I swallowed. A lump, sudden unidentifiable fear, and tears.
"Why?"
His exhalation was loud, because I think I'd stopped breathing and the rest of me dropped, for I found my heart in my throat.
"Because I'd like to know that I'm not insane. Because I didn't expect my little sister to come after me after I got in trouble even after all these years. Because I haven't really, truly touched anyone, in, in, I don't know…"
He struggled, and so did I.
"Are you the man who forgot his family or are you the big brother who caught snakes with me in the bog?"
He choked and his next words tumbled out, fragile and broken, through the coarse and unused sweet voice. "I never forgot my family…"
I reached out then, deciding that I would touch him instead, for I feared for my own sanity and the products of being truly alone. His face was smooth and warm, and felt like sweating marble on a humid day. The hand that reached up to first clasp mine, then feel my own face, was gloved and lent the feeling of a big wet leaf, warmed under an autumn pile on a sunny day. I hoped he couldn't identify the warmth of the tears that mixed with the cool moisture on my cheeks as he ran his fingers through my long matted hair.
"I always hoped someone would remember that I was once family too."
Certain hazy things became all too clear in that mist in which I couldn't see the present and feared the future. All I had was the past I denied so long.
I wept openly for the first time in a long while, in the hope that there were still things in this world worth lamenting.
.
.
.
Author's note: Well, that was a bit more depressing than I thought it would be, but I hope you enjoyed it.