Author's Notes: Yeah, what happened in this chapter wasn't something that I expected. Who would have thought?
Also, considering changing to bi-monthly updates to get this story done faster. Hope people like the idea. If I do this, then updates would be regularly on the 8th and 23rd of the month.
Chapter going up for REAL this time.
Hyne's War - Chapter 25
By afternoon Kadowaki had given Nida a (generally) clean bill of health and warned him not to stress his arm, and with Zell (quiet and oddly pensive) trailing him, Nida slowly made his way back to his room. As he passed through the corridors he was met with the sight of cadets and SeeDs who hadn't met his eyes since the night Elijah had escaped giving him approving nods and gestures of respect. Apparently now that he'd killed the reason they'd been hesitant, he had won his way back into their good graces. Or maybe it was that he'd proven himself by going among the enemy, alone, and still coming back while faced with whatever temptations. Maybe they respected him again because he wasn't some great figure of prophecy, but Irvine was—and since he was already a hero, who could hold it against him? None of the options really comforted him, how could they when they relied on him killing the man they knew as his best friend, him not being someone important, or him not falling in line with assumptions that he'd give in to temptation (and it didn't help that he almost had, but no one but Irvine and maybe the senior SeeDs knew that).
When they reached the dorm wing, they're being followed by a throng, and another gathering had beat them there, almost blocking the way. Behind him Nida could hear Zell flexing his fingers in his gloves, obviously concerned that someone int eh group might try to hurt Nida. But no, that wasn't what he got. A thrown knife or enraged swordsman would have been far easier than what he was met with. Someone, somewhere in the crowd, started clapping, and the suggestion is quickly taken up like it was always done in this kind of crowd. The sound only grows louder, more empathic and accented by the occasional whoops and cheers.
"I have to agree," Nida heard Zell through the noise, his voice all but a whisper. "You've single handedly led to the death of three Zebalgan leaders, noticed the truth behind the Galbadian attack, and you avenged a lot of people by taking down Elijah."
Nida was shaking, his arms quivering, his legs threatening to buckle as the cheers only increased. It easily could have been the weakness from the coma, could have been the strain from the wounds Kadowaki said would be with him a while longer and would keep him out of further fights, but it's neither. It's the cheering, these people who should have respected him for all the hard work he'd put into getting his rank, to being a damn good SeeD, for being a master pilot, only cared about his existence now. All these years, all this work, and they only now noticed him when they thought him a traitor, only respected him when he'd killed a man not acting under his own will, a man who'd loved him. The whole thing made him sick.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing here?" a voice boomed out, cutting through the ovation like steel through Joshua's neck—Elijah's heart. The crowd parted just as easily to let Seifer through, looking annoyed at the congregation. When no one—not even Zell—answered, Seifer plowed on as if it didn't matter. And maybe to him it didn't.
"Because it sounds like I just saw a group of cadets and officers wasting time insulting a superior officer."
"Insulting? Now see here, Seifer," Zell growled, about to lay into Seifer—which he had every right to do since he was the ranking SeeD present.
"No," Seifer snapped, whirling on Zell now, leveling on him an icy glare that would have made Squall envy him. "You listen. Use your fucking heads. If Nida deserved credit for his actions, it should have been given when he did them. And before any of you call attention to what happened in Centra, think about what he did. He followed orders like anyone here should have. What's more, that 'avenging' you celebrate, it's not party kiddos. Doesn't matter if it was necessary or deserved. Who wants praise for killing their mentor? Their best friend?"
At that even the whispering that had underscored Seifer's speech failed as the gathered realized just what Seifer meant.
"Get used to the idea, kiddies. This isn't the kind of war any of us were trained for. SeeDs look for threats from outside, not within. Trust is necessary in our line of work. Friendships make you stronger. But know how hard it has to be to kill your best friend. Now, all of you, get the fuck out of my sight."
The crowd dispersed faster than should have been possible, as if Seifer and cut through an illusion. Yet the reprimanded silence lingered, and even Zell seemed cowed as Seifer stood before Nida, shaking his head.
"I never liked Elijah, but he was a damn good fighter. I respected his skill, and his confidence. Remember him like that, not like what this has made him. It's what he would have wanted."
"You don't..."
"It's how I would want to be remembered," Seifer said, before turning on h eel and striding off like nothing had just happened.
"It was how he was remembered," Zell mused, half laughing, half serious.
Forcing his legs to stop shaking, Nida kept walking forward, refusing to admit to what had just happened. Soon he had navigated through all the corridors and left Zell at attention outside of his room, and knelt, nauseated, on the cool ceramic tiles of the bathroom floor. What had Garden come to that people were now cheering deaths? Hadn't they been taught better? Had they just become blood thirsty? The very idea sent chills down his back. After a few minutes to calm himself, Nida pushed himself to his feet, and turned to the sink.
The cold water was amazingly soothing when splashed on his face, something to counteract how hot he was running. His head felt feverish despite Kadowaki assuring him he was okay. Again he splashed his face with water and blindly fumbled for the towel that was always by the sink. Yet no matter how he fumbled, his hands didn't find the cloth. Then it hit him: it was Elijah who put the damn thing there after every laundry day. Except he'd never do that again would he? How could he when Nida had killed him?
At last he looked up, seeking a towel, and when he did, Nida met his own eyes in the mirror. For all that they were wet with unfallen tears, they looked empty, utterly devoid of care. It was almost as if he'd only gotten water in his eyes, not survived through the slaughtering of his lover. And what marks did he even have to show for it? A few cuts that were nearly invisible already from healing spells, and one that would be large and ugly on his shoulder. He almost wished there had been more visible cuts or bruises left on his face after the fight, maybe there had been but they were gone now, erased by time and directed applications of curative magics and potions.
The mirror was cracked and broken before Nida even realized just how much he hated the face that was looking back at him. But it wasn't enough. The shattered face, refracted in hundreds of sections, wasn't enough. Angry, his eyes darted around until they landed on the cup he'd left by the sink for toothbrushes. That too went into the mirror, smeared with blood from his now cut fist, and he didn't care. Nor did he stay to survey the new damage. Instead Nida stormed out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of light reflected off of the highly polished and sharpened edge of the head of the halberd that he'd used to kill Elijah. It sat there, perfect, untouched even by blood now, resting in Elijah's place. Everything stopped being choices and started being action.
He tore open the closet door and pulled free the first poleax he could get his hands on. The second he got both hands on it, he whirled, raising the weapon and bringing it down, full force, into the bed. The wood of the halberd's haft groaned for just a moment before giving way before the blade and force of the weapon, which didn't stop there but continued into the shitty mattress. Nor did Nida stop there. He pulled the halberd free and repeated the stroke twice, turning the shaft of the halbert and his mattress into a mess of cotton, splintered, cloth, and a stray halberd head.
Next his eyes caught the alarm clock—it never managed to wake Elijah—on the dresser—filled with casual clothes Elijah had encouraged him to by and some that he'd helped Nida pick out. Again the weapon came down, breaking through the cheap particle board far easier than it had through the oaken halberd shaft. The lamp was the next casualty, mostly because it was in the way.
Again he whirled, this time upon the closet, and with one hand Nida snatched out every scrap of cloth that reminded him of Elijah, every polearm with any bit of word, every memory that he could lay his hands on, and all were scattered on the floor.
Anger can be useful, don't get me wrong. It makes your blows stronger, it can make you faster, but your mind gets slower, sloppier, and you end up dead.
Nida remembered Elijah saying that, not that long ago, but the problem was that he couldn't find it in himself to care as he laid into the assorted clothes and weapons on the faux tile floor, rendering it all useless in surprisingly few strokes. Somewhere beyond his room he could hear shouting, Zell probably freaking out over the clamor, and still he kept striking, sparing only his uniforms—he was too well trained to disrespect them like this—the metal training weapons, and the carved wooden bo. But soon they were all that was left, and Nida was stalking into the main room.
There was nothing he wanted, nothing he cared about. Everything was touched by memory. Here was the couch they'd watched movies on. Here the table scuffed from Elijah's boots. There a stand of videos they'd collected together. There a picture of them on the day Nida had been made a SeeD. The poleax bit into them all indiscriminately, tearing fabric as if it were flesh, breaking wood like bones, and spilling blood of padding, smoke, memories.
He heard the door open, knew it had to at some point, and still he didn't stop, bringing the head of the poleax into the couch once more. He even got in another two sings, cutting too easily through an armrest and a leg support before someone put a hand on his shoulder, shaking it gently.
Had it been anyone other the Zell, they wouldn't have known what the tensing of the muscle's in Nida's arms meant. As it was, the martial artists threw himself out of the way before Nida could fully turn and raise the poleax. Even then he had to scramble as Nida redirected his motion to strike at him, getting away with little more than a ripped pant leg. Again the weapon came up, and the only thing that stopped it this time was the cold, unforgiving press of Hyperion at his throat.
And even that barely did it.
"Just do it," Nida hissed, his voice low and meant only for Seifer's ears.
"Don't think I won't. I may like you better than chicky, but I can't let you brain him. Not like there's much to hit there anyway."
"Just do it," Nida repeated, starting to lean forward, and he was almost amused to feel Seifer's arm wrap around his torso and hold him back.
"Nida..."
"He didn't want to fight me, Seifer. Boyce made him. Was a voice offering him everything he ever wanted in his life, and making the cost sound reasonable. I killed him, and self-defense or not, it was in cold blood. I murdered him, and for what?"
"What the fuck is going on?" Zell was demanding now, storming back into range and violently ripping Nida's weapon from his hands. "Almasy, take him to the brig for..."
"Fuck you," Seifer snarled. "Flyboy's not going a foot until I've got Kadowaki and Leonhart in here."
"You're going to disobey a direct order?"
"The only reason our heads aren't split open right now is because I clearly have a better grip on this situation than you, Dincht. So save us your moaning and crying, and get the Doc and Commander here now."
Nida said nothing through the stare-down, just stood there and wondered what it would be like to lay his throat open on Hyperion. To watch at Elijah had to as his blood spilled forth. What would his last thoughts be? Some final prophecy? A vision of Irvine before some stone altar? Or a momentary memory of love like Elijah's had been? All he had to do was lean forward. Seifer kept his weapon razor sharp. Easier to cut, less pain dealt by the blows because of the clean cuts. The dark metal offered so much...
Then it was gone, cast aside as if Seifer could read his mind. Instead Seifer's other arm wrapped around his chest as well, holding him still in a mockery of an embrace. And a voice, Seifer's, whispered in his ear.
"Siren would he rising such hell right now if you still had her. Shouldn't have taken her back."
She would, not that Nida would have listened.
"What happened here?" a new voice, Squall's, joined the fray of the room. For once it wasn't deadpan or concealing anything. The shock was plain there, the confusion, the disbelief. Apparently this—whatever this was—was what it took to break the ice off the lion.
"Hyne," another voice whispered, and before Nida could place it as Kadowaki's he's in her arms, not Seifer's, much to Squall and Zell's obvious displeasure. "Nida? Nida, are you listening to me?"
"Yes," he admitted, only because he hated the way she was all but shouting in his ear.
"What happened here?" Squall demanded.
"Nomura went crazy. Everything's wrecked. He tried to kill me," Zell shouted.
"If he was trying to kill you, he would have," Seifer countered, oddly calm. "It wasn't you he wanted dead."
"If you're so damn smart, then you tell me what the fuck happened," Zell growled.
"Like I said, you weren't the one he wanted dead."
"Then who? Because this has definitely got psycho killer written all over it."
"Himself," Seifer responded, voice utterly smooth and patient.
The room was silent then, enough so that Nida was almost sure he could hear a pin or splinter drop.
"Out," Squall ordered. "Everyone but Seifer, Kadowaki, and Nomura."
"Out?" Zell started to protest, but Squall cut him off with a hard look that Nida could see over Kadowaki's shoulder.
"Out!"
When they're gone the door slide closed with its normally cheerful hiss. Made Nida wish he'd gone for it first.
"What the fuck is going on?" Squall demanded, turning his glare on Nida. Not that it did anything with how cold Nida already felt inside.
So many answers, and none of them right. In the end, Nida went with the simpliest.
"I killed Elijah."
"I know that," Squall snapped, annoyance clear in his voice. Two audible emotions in less than ten minutes. Must be a new record.
"Knowing isn't understanding, Ice Princess," Seifer pointed out. "Something isn't right about all of this, and I think you're about to get some answers."
"I won't have you debriefing him like this," Kadowaki cut in, though she didn't release Nida to turn and face Squall.
"And for once, Doctor, I must overrule your authority," Squall sighed, resigned. There. Definitely a new record. "I think we aren't going to learn anything useful for your purposes without this. Lieutenant Nomura, report!"
The orders too deeply ingrained to be ignored. Nida's heels snap together as he goes into full attention despite Kadowaki's grip. "Sir?"
"What happened here?"
"I..." and yet no answer seemed to come.
"Fine, simpler question. What happened during your time with the Zebalgans?"
The words come then, one after another after another until Nida had no more. He told them about his supposed Zebalgan blood, about how the people separated themselves by colors, about the surviving council and the hostility of the reds and blacks and blues, and about his attempts to talk the people around from Boyce. He spoke at length about what he'd learned about their beliefs about the heir, and how blindly everyone followed their king. Then, slowly, brokenly, he turned to everything he'd learned from Elijah. About the powers of the 'king' of the people when it came to command. About his place on the council, as the heir, and his decision not to tell Boyce anything when he thought he had found the heir. At first no one seemed to believe him when he said that, but the more Nida stressed the power of Boyce, the promise that he'd give them his reason to believe when it was appropriate, the more they took him at his word.
He wove the whole tale, leaving out only the truth of his relationship with Elijah. So far as they ever needed to know, Nida was only Elijah's friend and mentee. Most of them happily had knowledge of just how strong those bonds could be. So when he told them how Elijah had helped plot against Boyce for the sake of their people, they started to believe. Seifer, he believed from the first. And then Nida turned to the dream, how it had been driving him since the fight with Elijah, how it had steadily grown more and more clear. How the night before the SeeD strike, Elijah had been called away to speak on Nida's behalf before the council, and how when Nida came to the place in his dreams he'd found them there waiting.
Squall cut in for the first time when Nida mentioned the machine, and while Nida told him everything he knew, Squall was still unsatisfied. Then Nida was at the point where Boyce first offered him a choice, and everyone was silent as he told how Boyce ordered Elijah to deal with him. Cold and calm Nida told them about the fight, every single parry, thrust, dodged blow. It took everything he had to stay detached as he told of Boyce's control over Elijah, the threat to slit his throat, being forced to slay Elijah even though he'd clearly not wanted involved in the fight. Calm and collected he spoke of the offer, the temptation, the near refusal, and of Irvine's timely arrival.
Nor did he stop there. He plowed on past his waking and what Irvine had told him, skipping directly to Seifer's turning over of Salamander. There his words were sparse, focusing mainly on the level of detail of the gift of memories, and admitting when prompted that very little of it remained to him when the GF had left him. The potential there was too important to ignore, and he was sure he'd soon be turned over to Veringas to explore the possibilities and connotations of the gift. The incident in the halls lie brushed over, even though he knew it was relevant, and while he offered no reasons for why he'd destroyed all he had of his room, he did let himself lay the blame at the foot of grieving over a friend.
Squall took it all in in that way he always did, looking, listening for some clues. More than once he turned his gaze, thick with some hidden meaning Nida couldn't parse, on Seifer. Like as not he would be getting his own lecture later on misappropriation of Garden materials and respecting the chain of command. A chime from Nida's door likely saved them all an immediate dressing down.
"Enter," Squall barked, and immediately the door slid open, showing them a high level SeeD, maybe mid twenties, named Chen.
"Sir," Chen said, snapping into a sharp salute, "We've got a situation down at the main gate."
"Zebalgans?" Seifer asked, jumping to his feet and obviously welcoming a distraction.
"We don't think so, but nothing is certain these days. Two strange characters, a large black man and a small woman with white..."
The SeeD didn't even have a chance to finish the sentence before Seifer was pushing past him, bound for the main gate and the pair that were undoubtedly there for him. The duo that completed Seifer's trio before everything had changed. It was an unexpected turn of events to say the very least. After not finding the pair with Seifer and their lack of arrival when Seifer's presence in Garden became known, everyone thought (who cared to think of it) the pair had abandoned Seifer for good, or that Seifer had abandoned them. What their presence here and now meant was well beyond Nida's pay grade, so to speak. Or it was now that he wasn't the heir and would likely be suspended medical leave for a while. All Nida could do was stand there as Kadowaki fussed over him and Squall too pushed past the bewildered SeeD. Apparently Chen had never known Fujin or Raijin. At last the messenger also left, leaving Nida alone in his ruined room with the doctor and without the support of Siren.
Wonderful.
"Your relationship with Zale was far more complicated than you let on, wasn't it?"
Nevermind. This moment, this moment right here, was the worst in his life.
"My personal relationships are my own business," he snapped, knowing as he did that the outburst was all she needed to confirm her suspicions.
"This whole thing must have been—must be—hard on you. For all that this place raises mercs, it does not prepare them for the very real possibility of costs such as you have paid. All of what you've done here, it was because of Elijah, wasn't it?"
Nida said nothing, not that it helped. She just assumed his silence as confirmation and continued on.
"I'm sorry for all you've been put through, Nida, but keep this in mind. I highly doubt if Elijah was as reluctant to serve Boyce's interests as you say, then he would not have held you responsible for what happened."
"Can a person forgive even their own death?"
"If what you said about Salamander is true, you might know far better than I."
"Kadowaki..."
"Yes?"
"Does it get easier?"
"No. But it gets bearable."
With that Kadowaki placed an arm around his shoulder and started to guide him from the room.
"Where are we going?"
"You can't stay here. Beyond the memories, this is by no means habitable at the moment. You can come back later, when you're ready."
"And if I'm never ready?"
"We'll deal with that when we get there."
Soon Kadowaki had him settled down in a different room, the least potentially disturbing to him: Xu's. Apparently the searching of it had been finished days before, and the room had been stripped down to nothing but new, bare furniture and nothing more. A call was put in to get new bed sheets and uniforms for him. The latter was canceled when Nida told he that he hadn't attacked the uniforms or a few of the weapons, and so the runner was sent to fetch those again. Then, with all of that sorted out he was left to his own devices. He ended up stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling, and wondering how he'd come back to the same place he'd been after Elijah had escaped.
Now, like then, there was a knock on the door, and for a moment Nida entertained the idea of everything since his confinement after Elijah's escape had been a dream. That the knocking now was his SeeD guard coming to deliver a meal. That Elijah was still alive and all this was a dream. Except it couldn't be. His dreams that were clear like this were certain futures, and he couldn't handle the idea of going through it all again.
Unbidden the door slid open, and when Nida sat up on the bed he was met by the sight of Seifer, in full uniform, carrying in a meal on a try. He groaned at the sight. He wasn't going to watch this happen all over again. He'd sooner die.
"Nidulus," he called, striding into the front room and depositing the tray (blissfully full of bowls and plates for multiple people) on a table. "Get your ass out here."
Even as Nida twisted around to get his feet on the floor, two more people entered the room, faces and forms both familiar and unwelcome. Raijin still towered over even Seifer, still wearing the old, iconic outfit. Behind him strode in the far smaller, and more fearful, form of Fujin. When Nida made for the front room, her head rapidly turned towards him, her red eye fixing him with a hard gaze.
"Nomura!" Seifer barked, then looked up and saw Nida standing still in the doorway. His eyes flicked towards Fujin, and Nida watched as Seifer shook his head. "Down girl."
"EXPLAIN!" Fujin demanded, her hands coming uncrossed from behind her back to slash through the air at Nida.
To be completely honest, Nida too could have used an explanation. With the arrival of Seifer's posse he hadn't expected to see the blond again. After all, it wasn't like they'd been on the best of terms before all of this. For all that Nida hadn't been too well known around Garden before everything, he too had been on the wrong side of the Disciplinary Committee's attention once or twice. It had started his first day in Balamb, when Nida had been assigned to share a room with Seifer. He'd been hostile, so scary that Nida had fled into the quad, hidden beneath a bush, and cried until Elijah had found him and taken Nida under his wing. Since then Nida had been under the full scrutiny of the disciplinary committee for 'infractions' three times, and none of it had been pleasant. To have them all here now, looking at him, only promised trouble.
"Yeah. What are we doing here, ya know?"
"We're having lunch numbskull," Seifer responded, flopping down onto the couch the way he was prone to doing.
"REASON!" Fujin demanded, not moving from her spot.
"Come on, can't we just sit down and fucking eat?"
"NO."
Seifer sighed and leaned back on the couch. "Fine, we'll make this simple. He's one of us now."
"Uh, what do you mean by that? I mean, I'm kinda confused, ya know?"
"SILENCE!" Fujin hissed, kicking Raijin in the shin.
"I'm only here because of him. He's alive a few times over because of me. He's competent, he's obedient enough, and he's honest. If either of you have a problem with it, speak."
"SEED," Fujin declared, the world almost a denunciation.
"Can't trust them, ya know?"
"You trusted then well enough when you sided with them against me in the Crystal Pillar."
"WRONG!" she countered, then her voice dropped to something smooth and even immediately afterward. "We trusted Squall, not his friends, not SeeD. For you a rival is just as good as a friend. And since you weren't listening to your friends, since you were destroying yourself, we gave you over to Squall."
"She's right, ya know? You weren't in your right mind about that."
"And you're saying I'm not in my right mind now?" Seifer asked, frowning as he reached forward to grab one of the cooling cups of coffee off the tray.
"CORRECT."
"That uniform..." Raijin started to say, only to be cut off by Nida (much to his own surprise).
"Doesn't mean he's any different. Ask Squall, he'll tell you Seifer's as headstrong and reckless as ever. The only reasons Squall hasn't suspended him is because he's useful and we're low on the types that can handle any situation these days."
"Nida," Seifer said, and Nida just ignored him, striding fully into the front room.
"Just because he finally got what we all strived for all these years doesn't change who he is. Maybe he's a little different, but so what? Was your loyalty to him really so fickle? Because right now he needs that about as much as Squall or I do. The Zebalgans would love a chance to give his head to Boyce on a silver platter. What he needs are friends who will watch his back like you used to, not people to criticize him. So which are you going to be?"
There was silence for a while from the trio, all five of their eyes on him. At last Fujin turned towards Seifer, gave a curt nod, and moved briskly to join him on the couch.
"Raijin?" Seifer asked, lifting an eyebrow in question.
"I'm with Fujin, ya know?"
"As ever," Seifer chuckled, gesturing toward a chair which the big man finally moved to sit in.
"What...?" Nida asked, staring at the trio in confusion. "What's just happened here?"
"You're in," Seifer said, handing Raijin a cup of juice and Fujin a coffee.
"In what?"
"The newly reformed Balamb Garden Disciplinary committee."
"What? When did that happen?"
Seifer gestured to Raijin, who sat up a little straighter in his chair and cleared his voice. "It's like this. The DC is reforming, and you just got voted in as a member. Seifer put it to the vote, and me and Fuu, we're behind it, ya know?"
"Why wasn't I given a choice?"
"It's for your own good, Nomura," Seifer said over his mug of coffee. "The DC looks after its own, always. Consider us each others' backup whenever we need it."
"I never said I would..."
"When you stood up for Seifer, you proved your worth," Fujin calmly answered, turning her bright crimson eye on Nida. "Now sit down and eat or I'll have to kick you."
"You wouldn't..."
"Try her," Seifer and Raijin mumbled together, the former chuckling and latter cringing.
Even with that said Nida hesitated. Or he did so only as long as it took for Fuijin to bark 'sit' at him. Then he was down, butt to couch cushion, before he could even think about it.
"I'll have to go deal with Squall soon," Seifer sighed, draining the last of his cup. "Deal with the fall out of your arrival, see to official reinstitution of the DC. With limitations in power, of course, but authority over even SeeDs in proper situations. For all the fun we had as upperclassmen, it's about time we did what we were meant to do."
"NIDA?" Fujin asked, and he wasn't sure if she was asking him something or asking something about him.
Luckily Seifer had no such issues and sighed before answering. "We've been rotating guards on him. All upper level SeeDs. Problem is..."
"Takes them away from important tasks. Yeah, we get that. Tell Squall we'll handle it if he wants. Once they give us our weapons back, yanno?"
"Think you two can handle it?"
"Zell's had more than a few bruises to prove our skill," Raijin said, beaming with pride. "Ain't no Class A, but we ain't no weaklings neither."
Seifer nodded and pushed himself up from the couch, taking a moment to straighten out his coat. "I'm off then. Stick together when you can. Listen to Fujin when you can't. Make sure Nomura eats, and if he needs anything, Raijin's playing goffer. Got it?"
"AFFIRMATIVE."
"Got it, ya know?"
"You've got to be kidding me."
"Not in the slightest, Nomura. Better listen now and get on Fuu's good side then have Squall order the same after you've pissed her off."
With that said Seifer strode from the room, leaving Nida behind with the posse, still wondering just what the hell was going on.