Author's Notes: Okay, we're getting into a part of the story here where a new formatting snaffu comes up. You'll understand it when you see it, but please keep the following things in mind: 1) singular italicized words are for emphasis; 2) italicized sentences and lines are for either mental conversations with GFs, or literally Nida talking to himself; 3) italicized paragraphs tend to be various levels of dreams, and any non-italicized lines within the italicized walls tend to be GFs mentally conversing with Nida; 5) bold italicized text is the new formatting distinction. You will understand it when we come to it.
Hyne's War: Chapter 26
There were two things that were capable of calming Nida down no matter the circumstances. The world could be ending around him and he'd be alright with it if he was caught flying or doing some mechanic work on a flier. Right now the latter was one of the few things allowed to him in Balamb Garden—Kadowaki was blocking Squall from putting him on active duty, and he desperately needed to be away from other people—and so Nida was currently arms deep in the engine of one of the personal fliers that had been in need of some work for months. Between his teaching, training, examination and the start of the war, he hadn't been able to keep up with the maintenance that he was supposed to help out with. Didn't help that this flier hadn't really had a problem with being grounded before because the others were all up and running, but with war and one of the spares blown in Nida's arrival to the Zebalgans, the war efforts needed this running. And soon. So, when he'd asked Squall what he could do, Nida had been sent to the hanger, given his tools, and told to take over maintenance. Once he had the fliers working he was to report to the core of Garden to look over the systems there as well.
"Hand me the wrench," Nida called, reaching back behind him with his uninjured arm—he was really getting tired of the pain in his right shoulder, but leave it to Elijah to find a way to keep himself in Nida's mind no matter how much he wanted to forget—to wait for the tool in question.
"I'm not an assistant, ya know?" Raijin mumbled in complaint, even as the tool slapped into place on Nida's palm.
"Not what Seifer said," Nida countered as he pulled the thing around and twisted it into position in the engine so he could get out the drive shaft and turbine, to see if the problem was there. "And while you're at it, I'll need an engine hoist."
"Ain't even right," Raijin grumbled as he stomped away, leaving Nida alone with the engine. Really, he was pretty certain that the problem was with the wiring, not the engine, but the Garden mechanic said he was supposed to check this first, and Nida wasn't in the mood to argue with him. The man was more bull-headed than Squall and Seifer combined.
With a grunt he tried to throw his weight into the wrench to get it to loosen the bolt he needed, and was met with more resistance than he could handle. Cursing he reached mentally into Siren's charm—thank Hyne Squall had finally returned Siren to him—and junctioned her. A bit of shuffling of the spells in his mind and a quiet command to the GF and he had all the force of his stocked aura spells behind his strength. He hated having to rely on spells to augment his physical capabilities. Sure, it was useful in a fight, ideal for a mercenary, but it felt wrong to use in daily tasks. What was the point of magically strengthening yourself if you didn't build up your own muscles? The problem was for all that he'd trained his body over the years, his left arm didn't have the stable strength of his right, and without being able to add the right arm's strength to the left... He was useless really until his arm healed fully.
"NOMURA!" Fujin's voice snapped out across the hanger, her normal shout reinforced by the echoes of the large room. Nida almost winced at the sound. Eventually he'd have to see if he couldn't convince her to use her normal voice instead of her shouting. It was nicer on his ears, and her voice was really quite pleasant.
"Here!" he shouted back, leaving the wrench where it was and pulling himself out of the engine. When she got here he'd ask her to loosen the bolts. For all that she looked fragile, Nida had quickly learned there was a real strength in the woman. She was like a heavy spring that was constantly compressed. When she let herself go she was unbelievably quick, and astoundingly strong. Plus she didn't complain half so much as Raijin did.
He barely had a chance to clean the oil off of his hands before Fujin arrived at his side, frowning severely at him. Of the three other members of the Disciplinary Committee, Fujin was the one he understood the least. Raijin was easy enough to interpret, everything he said he meant, and everything he looked like he felt, he felt. He was rather direct, if a bit reluctant, and for all that he sometimes acted annoyed at watching out for Nida, he obviously did it as much for Nida's sake as for his loyalty to Seifer. In the last three days Nida had come to feel like he could understand Raijin, to respect him even. His loyalty was unquestionably to his friends, and within the first hour that he'd spent in Nida's company, it was clear that he'd marked Nida as in that limited group.
Seifer was... Confusing in his own right, but relatively straightforward in his opinions about Nida. There was some misguided idea that he owed Nida something, that they had to stick together, and Nida had appreciated it. Since he'd come to work with Seifer it had been very clear to Nida that Seifer wasn't meant to be a follower, but a leader of men. No wonder he had never done well in the SeeD examinations. He knew what was right and wrong, knew how to handle emergency situations. He just wasn't the kind of man who could blindly follow superior officers who obviously had less of an idea of what was going on than he did. Seifer was about following the spirit of his orders, not the letter. Seifer was smart, thought on his feet, and would do what it took to get his job done. In Nida he'd found something that Nida couldn't quite understand, something worth defending, or maybe just calling a friend. Seifer too had that unswerving loyalty, even if it had been corrupted in the past, and to be on the receiving end of it was a wonder in and of itself.
But Fujin... Nida wasn't sure what to think of her. How did you explain a woman like her anyway? How had she made it to Garden? How had she fallen in with Seifer and Raijin? What kept her with them, what inspired her loyalty? The first day, when Seifer had brought his posse to Nida's room, she had looked at him thoughtfully, as if reserving her opinion for the moment. The next morning, though, when Nida had seen her, she had been different. Some kind of pity in her eyes, or was it frustration? Telling the difference with her was so much harder. Now that she stood there she seemed to be looking for something about him, her good eye darting around to find whatever it is that only she would know if she found. As he had the last several times she had done this, Nida just stood there, resisting the urge to cross his arms across his chest, and stared back at her.
"Well?" he asked, frowning. "Made your decision yet?"
In the space of a blink of her eye, the whole demeanor around Fujin changed. She went from contemplative to completely dismissive, rolling her good eye as if exasperated. Not that he'd done anything yet to earn it. One of these days he was going to figure out how to read and understand her the way Seifer and Raijin did—of course that assumed they still cared to spend any time around him after the war ended (and how weird was it that he was wishing they would let him stick around).
"MAIL," she declared, and as she spoke she pulled a hand from behind her back and flashed him a glimpse of a brown paper package.
"And?" Nida asked, returning his attention to the engine. He'd been to Winhill far too recently for someone to want to send him something, unless they were going to yell at him for what happened to Andria and her guests... That wasn't the mail he wanted.
"SEIFER."
"You know, unlike him I don't understand everything you shout at me," Nida grumbled, giving in and crossing his arms. "What about Seifer and the mail?"
She scowled in response, she always did when Nida asked her to speak normally, and at last seemed to give in. "Seifer was with Squall in his office. Saw the package. Took it, despite protests. Apparently there is the opinion that your mail needs reviewed."
"Wonderful," Nida grumbled, shaking his head. "They're really getting to know how to make me feel comfortable here." With that he reached for the package. Fujin, though, didn't seem so much like she agreed with Seifer's decision.
For all that Fujin was fast, junctioned Nida was faster. And shuffling junctions was fast, as quick as a thought or two, more than enough to give Nida the time to slip the haste spells into position so his hand could dart out, grab the package, and jerk it from her grip. They stood there for a moment, looking at each other, her eye narrowed, his eyes filled with clear laughter. Another testing of their limits. They'd clashed against each other countless times over the last three days, and things were coming out just about evenly. What the point of it was, he didn't know, but it was a welcome change from the confusion that Fujin brought him.
"THIEF."
"It's my mail."
"SO?"
Nida rolled his eyes and moved to sit on the stool he had by the nearest work bench. "Would you mind loosening the bolt for me? My arm..."
She didn't say anything, just went calmly to the flier, rolled up her sleeves, and turned her attention to the wrench. Unlike Raijin, she didn't shirk work when Nida asked for help. It had the distinct additional pleasure of letting him open his mail on his own. First, though, he turned his attention to the package, frowning hard at what he found. The hand writing on the address wasn't familiar, and the return address was his own cabin in Winhill, which was strange and unnerving to say the very least. Oh well, there was nothing to really tell him who had sent this or what it was until he opened it, so there was no reason to put it off any longer. He reached for one of the stray throwing knives he'd left on the table—Fujin was teaching him knife throwing in his off time, a way to protect himself that didn't need his right arm and insisted that he carry some with him at all times—and used it to cut off the package paper. Once the paper was removed he was left with a leather journal and a small piece of paper that read 'He wanted you to have this.'
The handwriting on the note wasn't familiar, but when Nida opened the leather journal what he found there was, in its own way. It was clearly, far too clearly, the writing of a child, or near enough to one, but there were small details that made his heart ache. The way that the letter y always had a looping tail, even though the writing wasn't in cursive. The fact that whenever there was an o it was far too small compared to everything in the word. The way that each period was a stab in the paper, and each comma swooped large.
Elijah...
Quickly he flipped through the next few pages of the journal, shocked by how rapidly the adolescent hand was replaced by the firm, matured writing he'd known best from Elijah. But what was this? He'd never seen it before. What had did the note mean in saying that 'he wanted you to have this?' He kept flipping until the pages were devoid of writing, crisp, cream and untouched by even the impressions that Elijah's writing left in pages. Quickly he turned back, looking for the last bit of writing, for some answer, for something to explain what was in his hands. And at last he found it there, in a scrawled hand that was shaky and somehow sad, and still wholly Elijah's handwriting.
Dear Nida, the journal read, and the way that the words almost echoed in his head in Elijah's voice made him freeze for a moment. But he couldn't just stop. Couldn't leave the questions unanswered when they, when Elijah, was so clearly reaching out for him.
Dear Nida. Wow, I guess this could well be the last time I write those words. Hell, with what I've learned tonight, I have to pray that they will be. Because I can't bear the idea of what it will mean if I have a chance to write more. But I guess that's neither here or there, is it? Anyway, I suppose you've got questions. You always do. I love that about you, do you know that? You always have questions, always want to know more, always...
Looks like I can't even keep on topic for five minutes even when I'm writing. You'll have to tell Instructor Aki that he was right about that. He was right about a lot. I never did amount to anything, did I? If everything goes as it should, as it needs to for the sake of our people and all others, I'll never have a chance to amount to anything. Then again, if you're reading this, you already know that, right? I'm giving, gave I guess, Ascher strict instructions. If I don't survive the day, he's to make sure this gets into your hands. He'll see to it, regardless of Boyce. Boyce won't even want to deal with him after everything. Ascher was always loyal to me. No matter what my Uncle does to force Ascher to his will, it won't last long enough to be good for him. He'd always have a threat at his back for letting me... For making me...
Hyne, let's stop beating around the bush, yeah? I don't want to say it, but the simple truth of the matter is that I'm dead. And if the world is a good place, it will not have been by your hands. But we both know the truth of the world by now, right? It isn't a good place. It's cruel. Otherwise it wouldn't have let us meet, wouldn't have let me love you, wouldn't have made you the Heir, would have let me discover what you were AFTER Boyce stepped down. And that just isn't the way it's gone, has it?
But, back to the point, right? I'm dead. Probably by your hands. I'm sorry about that. It wasn't what I wanted. None of this was what I wanted. I already told you that, but I want to reinforce it. It's pretty much the reason I'm sending you this. I've had this journal since... Well, a long time, Nida. Maybe too long. But I will swear to you that every word in it is true. This journal is my life since we were younger, since that year where things... changed between us. It was the only one I could share my inner thoughts with, since Xu was always my Uncle's creature. Anyway, this is the only truth I can give you. If nothing else, maybe it will convince you of everything I said. And don't tell me you were already convinced. There was doubt in your eyes when I told you. But, knowing what I will walk into tomorrow, I have to try anyway. Try to make you understand that I wanted none of this. But it is what I was given, like it or not. Such is fate.
This is all I can give you, Nida, except for my apologies. When my Uncle commanded me to stay after the meeting tonight, I knew I'd never see you again when I was fully myself. Don't mourn me, love. I don't want that. If things happen the way I expect they will, you will be freeing me from something that is too much like a nightmare for my tastes. Hyne, let me be free of it. Because the alternative is that he will force the fight anyway, and if I win... I fear for you. The things he can do to your head when you're not conscious, they aren't right. I've learned that. I've read a lot about the powers of the line lately, and they are terrifying. As much as I want to see you bring Hyne's power to us, to give the world the legacy it deserves, the thing that Boyce controls is corrupt. Maybe it wasn't always so, but the touch of humanity has changed it. And I can't bear to see him turn that against you. I won't have you be a pawn to anyone's will. You deserve better. You deserve so much better.
Don't blame yourself for this, love. It will be how things had to happen for your sake. For everyone's sake. Never submit to Boyce and his will. But never forget the price of your freedom. It isn't lightly paid. Love... Live for me. Because after tomorrow I won't be able to live for either of us. Live free for me, something I could never do for myself, and never forget what you are. You are Zebalgan. You are the Heir. You are my love. And you are free.
No, Nida hissed in his mind, as he finally came to the last words. Not the heir, and not free. Never free.
How could Elijah not have known the burden of those words? How could he...
Nida was jerked out of his thoughts as a tear splashed down on the page, soaking into the page and making the ink start to bleed. Quickly he grabbed the nearest thing not covered by oil—the corner of his shirt—and wiped the tear away. He couldn't let the words be ruined. Wouldn't. He could at least give Elijah that. Carefully he shut the journal, refusing to let another tear damage the precious words, and moved to dry his tears on his sleeve. But even as he did that was a square of cloth suddenly in his vision, a hand holding it carefully in place. His gaze followed the hand to the arm, the arm to the body, and then up the body and to the face of Fujin, who just stood there silently, impassively—no, not that, there was clearly pity in her eye—and said nothing.
Gratefully Nida took the handkerchief and dried his eyes. Still she said nothing. At last he was almost composed and looked back to her, holding out the cloth. She just shook her head and gestured for him to keep it.
"You'll need it," she said, speaking quietly, but with her voice oddly flat, like she refused to let it give anything away.
"Have you ever lost something important to you?" Nida asked, and almost regretted the question as he noticed the eye-patch.
"Yes," Fujin said, voice still flat, and she reached up, her fingers brushing the eye-patch. "It doesn't get easier. You wake up in the morning and realize the lack. You go to sleep at night and hope it will all be a dream. But, with time it becomes a part of you that you can't abandon. It makes you stronger if you let it. Maybe even stronger than they did."
With that Fujin turned on her heels and strode away, even as Raijin approached with the finally retrieved engine hoist. Had she just...?
As Nida slid Elijah's journal into his pocket and threw away the note, he found himself wondering just who it was that Fujin had lost, and how.
I don't like this place. I don't care what Uncle Boyce says. This garden place isn't nice like home. It's so hot here. I miss the red stone halls. The beds are too soft. It's too open. The people here talk too loud. And I hate the secret. I want to go home. Soon, soon Uncle shall realize I belong with him and call me home. Soon.
It was hard for Nida not to agree with the sentiments of the child Elijah had been. He was starting to dislike Garden as well. Not because of the temperature, or because he had been particularly fond of the Zebalgan's refuge—who raised children in those cold halls—but that it was too open, that the people were too much, he had to agree there. And the secrets he kept, those were there too. But the noises he hated were the celebrations. The secret he kept his connection to the man he had killed. The regret. The fear of what was to come. Everyone else seemed to have thought they had struck a deciding blow. From what Seifer said, the senior level SeeDs didn't agree. Nida had to take him at his word, though, because it wasn't like he was being let into the meetings. Kadowaki was keeping him out because of 'medical' reasons, but he knew it was the psychological that had her fighting Squall's need for every able bodied fighter he could get his hands on.
So instead he was here, stretched out on his couch, reading Elijah's journal. Raijin he'd sent to get lunch a while ago, and Fujin was off somewhere doing something that he couldn't even begin to guess at. And now all he could think of was how his first day in Garden had been so like Elijah's. Denial of his being there. Hating the place. But the difference was that Elijah had still had family. He must have felt like he was being cast out, where Nida felt alone because there was no family left for him. And, of course, Elijah when he'd first arrived hadn't had to deal with Seifer.
What would it have been like if he hadn't met Elijah that first day. If he'd just put up with Seifer. Would Elijah still be alive now? Would the war have even happened? He could hope, but what was the point to it? It got him no where to think about it. With a sigh he returned his attention to the journal and the next entry.
It's been a month now, and still Uncle does not send for me. What did I do to make him mad? Does this mean he doesn't want me any more? Am I no longer of the people? Does he not want me among them? Am I not his heir anymore?
Poor kid. Being dropped in the middle of Garden, given no explanations, completely separated from his kind. How had he gotten through it? Nida wasn't sure he could have done it without Elijah. Who had Elijah turned to? No, better not to know. Move on. Forget about it. There was nothing to be won by speculation this early.
He sent a letter. Finally I know the truth. Boyce wishes me to wait, to observe, to learn. One day the people shall look to me, and I will have to know how to lead. Garden prepares me for that, and I will be able to give him valuable information. I shall serve as I was meant to.
But the beds are still too soft here.
"What do you got there?"
Nida snapped the journal closed, his eyes darting up to glare at Seifer for the intrusion. The look only earned him an amused chuckle from the blond, who was carrying the lunch tray that Nida had send Raijin for. Well, that explained some things. Raijin was missing because he'd run into Seifer. Really, he was getting annoyed with the lack of control over the three, the way they felt they needed to protect them. It wasn't like he wasn't capable of taking care of himself. Really, one rage where that left his room pretty much destroyed and him begging Seifer to... Okay, so maybe he did need babysitting. Fuck.
"Nothing," Nida mumbled, frowning at Seifer. "Why didn't you knock?"
"I did. You didn't answer. I came in anyway," he responded, smirking. "Squall gave me your door code."
"Asshole."
"Yeah, I have to agree sometimes. But he's the boss."
"Didn't you used to hate him?"
"Still do. But hate isn't quite all there is. Respect too, I guess. He's a cold asshole, but he's good at what he does," Seifer pointed out, putting the lunch tray on the table by Nida, and pulling a chair over to join him. "So what was it you were reading? The package I got for you?"
To answer or not to answer, that was the question. The journal could invariably be valuable to Garden's efforts if it said what Elijah had claimed. But it would let the cat out of the bag, so to speak. Once that might not have been a great disaster. Sure, he would have said that it wasn't anyone else's business, but he wasn't ashamed, wasn't afraid of what people would do. Garden wasn't known for hostility for towards that kind of relationship, and Nida was pretty sure he could have handled most of the people who might have considered giving him grief. Now, though, it was more the who than the what that he was afraid of getting out.
"Yes," he admitted at last. After all, Seifer hadn't revealed him yet, had trusted him to figure out what needed to be figured out, and share what he found with Squall. Would he really try to take the journal and give it to Squall? "It's Elijah's journal."
"Good read?" he asked, stealing a french fry off of the tray. "Got anything useful?"
"I don't know yet. I haven't really read far. But..."
"You're worried it's got stuff we might want to use," Seifer said, shaking his head. "Yeah, that was my concern when I saw the thing on Squall's desk. One of the first things to go once you get into a war. Privacy. Figured after everything, you'd earned it."
"Thanks."
"But you sure as hell better share anything that's important to know. Or I swear to Hyne I'll take that thing from you so fast..."
"I haven't kept anything important from anyone yet," Nida growled, even as Seifer reached for another fry. This time Nida pulled the tray away from Seifer and glared. "It's my lunch you know."
"Yeah," Seifer agreed, smiling wide in that way he did. "Fujin said it'd get you to eat."
"And you listened because she's figured so much out about me in three days."
"I listened because you're a lot like her."
Nida froze, mustard bottle poised over the hamburger, and just stared. Where had that come from? He didn't have much in common with her at all. The differences were... They just were.
"Whatever," he grumbled, returning his attention to the mustard.
"Hey, just because you don't know doesn't mean you can pull a Leonhart on me. You're both... Shit, do we even have to do this?"
"If you want me to believe you, then yes."
Burger ready to go, Nida took the plate with it and the fries and leaned back on his couch, making sure to push the journal aside. He'd have to remember to put it away later. Didn't want it getting lost in the cracks of a couch that wasn't actually his. Soon enough Kadowaki would back down and let him return to his own rooms, to clean and rebuild with what he'd left behind. To start over. Not that he wanted to, but he did need to. Needed to wipe the place clean of Elijah, so that he could move on.
Seifer said nothing for a while, leaving Nida to eat in peace. He was halfway done with the meal when the silence was really starting to bother him. Normally it wasn't Seifer that gave him the silent treatment. No, that was a privilege reserved for Squall. In fact, to have Seifer being so quiet was like having Zell or Selphie sit still for ten minutes. It just wasn't right.
"Are you okay?" Nida found himself asking around a mouthful of fries. "You seem kind of out of it."
"Do you know how Fujin lost her eye?"
He was left staring at Seifer, utterly caught up with what struck him as a non sequitur. Did this have something to do with Seifer? Or was this going back to the comparison of Fujin to Nida? Now that he thought of it, she had implied there was some connection between it and the person she had lost. But was that something that Seifer had the right to share?
"Is this something you really should be telling me?"
"I saw Fuu after your time in the hanger. We talked. She asked me about your question. How it connected to the state you were in when I brought them to you. Don't underestimate the girl. She's sharp. Put the points together. Like you would in her place. Asked me to talk to you."
"You're talking to me."
"Talk to you about this. Not that I'm the best person to try and comfort you here. I've never really cared about anyone the way we're talking about here. But she's concerned, and when Fuu is concerned, I have to step in. Otherwise Rai will, and he'll just fuck everything up. Love the guy, but he's clumsy in more than one way."
"I have to agree," Nida mumbled, remembering that he was already getting a bruise from Raijin's inability to keep the engine hoist under control. "Sometimes I wonder how he's so good with that staff..."
"Oh he's..." Seifer started to say, only to pause when Nida raised his hand to halt him.
"I trained with him, Seifer. I've seen Raijin in a fight. Over the years I've had my fair share of bruises from him, and I've dealt them right back. He wasn't top of the combat classes, but neither was I, and we got paired up often enough."
"Right. Well, as for Fujin..."
"Please, let's spare us all the crime of me having to interact with him on serious matters any more than is absolutely necessary. What is it you were going to tell me about Fujin?"
"She's like a lot of us here. She doesn't have the most wonderful background. But I have to say she's got it worse than most people I've heard the stories for. Her father died during the war against Adel, a Galbadian soldier. But her mother..." Seifer sighed and shook her head.
"Her mother worked really hard to take care of Fujin and her sister after their father died. Worked late hours for dead end jobs in Deling, scrimped and saved to give the girls what they needed and a bit of what they wanted. One night Fujin was with her mother, coming back from the store. They'd left her younger sister with a neighbor. On the way back they were jumped by a cracked out ganger, desperate for money and a score. Fujin's mother gave the man everything they had, which wasn't much because they'd just been shopping. The man thought she was holding back, and pulled a knife. When they couldn't give him more, he attacked Fujin's mother. Stabbed her three times. Fuu, poor girl was only about ten, and when she tried to stop him from hurting her mother, he cut her across the face with his knife, ruining her eye. Stabbed her twice in the stomach as well when she wouldn't stop screaming for her mother despite her eye. It was luck that Fuu made it through the night when some guard found them and held her together until they got her to the hospital.
"Fujin's mother died that night, but they didn't tell her for two weeks while she recovered. By then her sister had already been grabbed up by children's services and sent to a group home. And by the time Fuu was recovered enough to be sent to the home, her sister had been adopted and taken away. They've never told her where her sister was sent. Not even when she hit eighteen and had a right by law to claim her sister. Said there was no place for a mercenary to raise a child. As if Fuu had a choice whether or not to come to Garden. Balamb took her in because no one wanted her, and Galbadia sure as hell didn't want a one-eyed scrawny albino girl. That night she lost more than her eye. She lost her mother, she lost her sister, and she lost her life. Still she struggles on, in hopes that one day she'll find the girl. Hell, the reason she never wanted to go past cadet training was because she wanted to return to Galbadia, find some job in the army or as a security person, and get her sister back. Not that the girl would remember her at this rate..."
"I don't see how this makes me like her."
"You'd both give up everything to make the world the way it was. But the problem is that you can't, and you can't admit that you want to. So you push on, push yourselves, until it's hard to recognize what you were before. Fujin isn't the girl she was when she first came to Garden, afraid of the very thought of a sharp edge, ashamed of her eye-patch, and unable to speak above a whisper. But neither are you. You aren't that kid that couldn't stop crying, couldn't handle a stuck up prick like me picking on you."
"You remember that?" Nida asked, eyes wide with shock. Seifer had never really hinted at it before.
"Of course I do. Kind of envied you to be honest. At least you knew who your parents were. Knew who you were missing. All I ever had was an orphanage and Matron. You, you had this quiet, happy, privileged life. I had two years at Garden already to sharpen already rough edges. But you're not that kid anymore, just like Fuu isn't, just like I'm not. Do yourself a favor. Don't try to be. I've seen Fujin start to fall into that trap, start to get caught up in that despair. It wasn't pretty, and it was damned hard to pull her out of it."
With that Seifer pushed himself out of his seat, stretched, and threw Nida a half mocking, half serious salute. "Get some rest, sir. We've got a meeting with senior level SeeDs and major military leaders tomorrow at 0900. Squall expects you there early for one final review of your debriefing regarding the Zebalgan mission. Don't disappoint him. Otherwise he might have me send Fujin after you, and trust me, she is not kind in waking a person up."
"Of course," Nida responded, amused that Seifer was actually treating him like a superior for once. With a smirk he returned the salute, almost dismissively, and then gestured towards the remains of his lunch. "Will you see to this? I've still got a bit of rewiring to do down in the hanger, and it goes more smoothly if I can do it before Raijin shows up to complain."
"Fine. But you have to know that I'm going to have to send Fujin after you."
Nida nodded in agreement. "I expect nothing different. Now get out of my sight before I throw something at your smug ass."
"Sir, yes sir."