TWO: COMPOUNDING THE PROBLEM

Eight months previous, Lunatic Pandora:

The rubble was heavy. Dragging himself out of it was painful. Not as painful as the sunlight to assault his eyes when he reached the surface; a section of the chamber's outer wall had ceased to be. Figured. Lunatic Pandora had fallen.

And with it any of Seifer's—

"FOUND." The normally harsh voice was thick with desperation. Pale hands began to scrabble at the debris, brushing aside the smaller, hurling with emotion fueled strength the larger. "RAIJIN!" Bronzed tree trunks slipped under Seifer's arms and hauled him free like a teddy bear.

It wasn't long before Raijin had Seifer propped against a computer console. Fujin was kneeling nearby, a potion already in hand.

"DAMAGE?"

"We thought you were—"

A lightning punch to Raijin's gut interrupted. The imposing giant bent over, the spitting image of a child with a tummy ache.

"F, Fujin, why you gotta..."

"IDIOT. HEALING, FIRST."

"Yeah, but you thought it too, ya know!"

The pair quieted down as Seifer drank the potion, Fujin helping him to grasp it on one side, Raijin steadying him on the other. It was an half-hearted cover for the tension the three of them felt. They'd feared he'd died. He almost did. It sobered their typical shenanigans as the three spent the next hour patching Seifer up. What could have happened. What didn't happen. Where they'd go from here. All these and more were burdensome thoughts, strangling like nooses in a good hanging. And in the end, just like all the other times, Seifer stood up.

"Seifer, about the sorceress—"

"Let's get moving."

They never talked about it. Any of it. That was how Seifer preferred it.

Present day, Gramps's Shack:

The sound of shattering pottery brought Seifer's wandering thoughts back. If he had to guess Fujin had just thrown her cup; he'd known giving her the drink would end in dramatics. Combined with the ominous lumbering of Raijin's steps beneath his trademark laugh, it was trouble personified. Large hands pointedly wrapped around the back of Gramps's chair. The effect was the shack immediately shrinking from "cramped" to "shoebox" under Raijin's full standing height.

"BWAHA HAHAHA! You think just 'cuz Seifer's done some work in the past he'd do it again?" Hardness strained Raijin's bombastic joviality. Behind Seifer Fujin stepped forward, angrily backhanding the air. "DECEIT," she raged.

"Can't get any dumber than that, ya know?" Raijin agreed. The energy between the two was downright lethal and all focused on the scruffy old man trembling in his chair. Gramps's clearly knew he'd screwed up with that careless introduction. As strange as it was for Seifer to see his friends turn from supportive to aggressively protective, he made no effort to relieve the old man of his discomfort.

In a way Seifer was grateful for the protectiveness of his friends. It gave him time to breathe in a moment he'd forgotten how.

...my loyal knight...

...Some things were best left in the past. Shaking his head with the sigh of a master subject dodger, Seifer spread his arms in an helpless shrug. "You heard my friends," he crooned in his best eat shit fashion. "I'll give you points for guts. But unless you've got a reason I'd be wantin' to meet this sorceress we'll be taking our leave."

Not even waiting for what could only be a worthless answer, Seifer nodded to his posse and stood up. Sorceress... Just the word had him riled. But eight months was eight months. He couldn't keep dragging Fujin and Raijin into trouble. It was time to move the hell on. He headed for the door.

"Wait!" Gramps slumped in his chair. The menace of the moment had made its impact. Despite any fear he apparently wasn't giving up so easily. Persistent geezer. "...I'm just an old man looking to protect his only granddaughter," he pleaded, voice worn.

Weathered, frail hands rose to cover aged eyes. It was the picture of custodial despair, something to pull at any heartstring. Seifer had seen sadder. "Two weeks ago her mother sent word she's taken ill. Wants to see her daughter. Doesn't take a SeeD to figure what that's about," Gramps said softly.

Seifer's hand stopped where it rested on the doorknob. His grip was tighter than it needed to be, a dark feeling settling in his chest. No, it didn't take a SeeD. Sorceresses were going to do what sorceresses did. Always had, always would.

Succession.

"Spare me the nature documentary," Seifer growled. "Buy her a train ticket and ship her off. It doesn't get any simpler." He didn't turn around. It wasn't that he was afraid he told himself. He was not.

Fujin made a low questioning noise. Seifer fractionally shook his head. If Gramps noticed the exchange it wasn't evident. "That was the plan," the old man was forcing out bitterly. His hands curled into impotent fists. "My granddaughter naively confided in a classmate and it's been hell ever since. Sir Almasy—!"

Raijin in the way or no, Gramps's chair scooted back with a desperate scrape. His old hands slammed down on the table as he stood, ancient form trembling with barely contained frustration. "I can handle a few punks. I fought in the Sorceress War. But once word circulates it's not going to keep being a few punks!"

The old man looked up, the bile of bitterness on his face. "Sir Almasy, my granddaughter is thirteen. She has it in her mind she's going to do this, maybe you can talk her out of it, maybe you can't. But these blasted old bones no longer have the strength to protect a little girl with her whole life ahead of her!"

An unsettled quiet descended on the small room.

Seifer didn't need to glance up to see the uncertainty on Raijin's face; it was perfectly clear in his peripheral vision like a large, flashing billboard. Raijin did have a soft spot for kids. Fujin herself was characteristically unphased beside him, just waiting for the word to leave. That didn't mean she had nothing to say on the matter. Only that she believed it was Seifer's call to make.

Seifer felt frustrated. If this was an act someone needed to get this old man an award. Because Seifer felt like he had just watched the performance of the year for senior veteran dealing with the cruelty of aging. With a less hardened crowd, maybe ones not raised in a mercenary school from tender ages, there surely wouldn't be a dry eye in the shack.

That was the skeptic in him, well-fed over a year in which everyone to approach him had an agenda. But what if it was true? Could he live with sending a kid out to be potentially captured, used, very likely worse? He wouldn't claim it would never keep him up at night.

"...Let me think it over," he said with no small amount of distrust. Finally relinquishing his death grip on the door knob, he nodded to Raijin and Fujin. "Let's find an hotel."

Raijin slipped around the table, a small smile offered on his face to the once again slackjawed with surprise Gramps. One could almost forget not five minutes ago Raijin had called the man dumb. Fujin turned around sharply and made a straight line for the door. Not that she had more than a step and an half to go; the place was beginning to feel more packed than a sardine can the longer they were inside. It was like the worst kind of magic trick.

"W-wait!" Gramps cried when Seifer made to let them all out. "Most of the hotels will be charging extra this late at night. If you don't mind the small space..."

He cleared his throat. "It'd be an honor to have you three stay here. This room turns into a second bedroom and I can certainly feed you all."

...There was a certain depression in how tempting the thought of a free night's room and board had become. Anything that helped their meager funds stretch that much further. Seifer eyed his friends. Raijin was clearly ready to accept; Seifer had no doubt the copious netting on the walls suggesting a potential seafood dinner might be a motivation. Fujin's arms were crossed, not so easily won.

"SEIFER?"

...What the hell was she asking him for? It was an uncharitable thought. She was asking because she knew he was bothered; Fujin didn't miss much. Loathe to verbally answer he raised an hand in an accepting wave. He'd rather not stay in the house (sardine can) of a sorceress's family, but he had to think of Raijin and Fujin. He was the leader, wasn't he? Better they saved now and had money to spare later.

"We'll stay."

And that was how they ended up shacking with a sorceress-to-be.

Dinner was simple, but surprisingly good. Grilled fish left Raijin happy and Fujin finally deigned to enjoy the tea. The granddaughter ("Here's the girl herself, apple of these old eyes, introduce yourself Yuffie.") was sullenly quiet throughout the meal, avoiding all attempts at eye contact with the mastery of a teenager. Her only words were "excuse me" when she finished and pushed away from the table, obnoxiously scraping her chair on the floor and leaving her used plate behind to clamber back up the ladder.

Seifer watched her go without reaction. The brat act wasn't exactly endearing.

The old man laughed nervously, muttering something about "kids" before returning to amiably chatting with Raijin about fish and corresponding lures. Fujin didn't even look up from the newspaper she'd borrowed. Occasionally she took advantage of the small space to kick Raijin when he grew too loud, a commanding, "QUIET!", bringing him down to lower decibels before he inevitably climbed octaves again. Overall it wasn't a bad atmosphere despite the nearly disastrous train wreck of the initial discussion.

Seifer was able to sit in quiet ambivalence. It meant he didn't miss the soft clatter of something on the roof. Pleased to see his instincts were still on point, he stood up and made an excuse about getting some air.

Outside the sun had long since set and the beach was a pale grey, dimly lit by the lights of the town. Looking around, Seifer had to make a guess which way his quarry had gone. Up the dunes to town? Or further along the beach?

He chose the beach. Shortly he was rewarded with a small figure walking ahead in the gloom. With his steps being longer he slowed, not wanting to overtake just yet. Walking just out of reach of the surf, the figure occasionally picked up shells and tossed them into the waves with a pitcher's arm. Good throwing technique. Who'd have guessed with those twiggy limbs?

It wasn't until she reached the end of the breakwater that Yuffie stopped, precariously balanced on the jumbled rocks. The quarter moon danced over the surging waves and both her and Seifer's breaths came in clouds as the night temperature dropped. If this were a movie the girl would break down crying, lamenting her predicament. Seifer would step in as the chivalrous knight figure to wipe away her tears and make grand statements about staying by her side as piano played.

Thank god this was real life. Those kinds of cringe filled actions weren't in Seifer's nature. Instead he waited, hands in his coat pockets. When he was hitting his limit, preparing to march up and tell Yuffie to bring her scrawny self back inside, she finally moved.

Throwing her arms over her head and stamping her foot she yelled at the sea, "I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU!" Stones were quickly snatched up and thrown with increasingly greater ferocity, the girl hopping up and down in a full-blown tantrum. "Stupid mom! Why is this the first time you send a letter?! Way to fail at parenting 101! GAWD! FUCK YOU TOO!"

Whatever Seifer had been expecting that was not it. The girl he'd taken as a quiet, passive aggressive child was apparently a fire breathing, foul-mouthed chimp. He burst out laughing, harder than he had in a long time, and Yuffie spun around with a shriek. Losing her footing she fell into the water.

...Shit.

"Stalker! Creep! Perv!" That was Yuffie after Seifer had fished her out, looking more like a drowned rat with her hair sticking up in all directions and wrapped in Seifer's engulfing coat. She was soaked and shivering violently. It didn't stop her from futilely beating on Seifer with weak clenched fists.

"Blame yourself for being dumb enough to throw a tantrum on a seawall," Seifer informed her, lacking all sympathy. Dropping an heavy hand on her dripping head he used it to twist her this way and that, making certain she wasn't injured beyond a few bruises and scrapes. This incensed Yuffie further and the rain of fists became a flurry. When one popped him in the jaw with enough force to almost sting Seifer decided he'd had enough.

Hands under Yuffie's arms hoisted her up and slung her over his shoulder. The practically feather light weight was a reminder just how tiny she was. Big attitude not withstanding. Her enraged yelling filled with more curses than even Seifer knew only ceased when the final landing winded the girl.

The blissful lapse didn't last nearly long enough.

Seifer winced as he strode off the breakwater with his cargo and back onto the sandy beach. Was the old man sure she was being summoned to become a sorceress? Nascent banshee was more like it. No one was merely born with expertise in wailing that great. Dumping her on the dunes with zero care, hands covered his ears. The following, "QUIET!", was a growl that would fill pit bulls with envy. For extra measure he kicked sand on her like he'd discipline an animal. Surely it was the same with children!

It worked. Yuffie paused to spit out sand, coughing and dramatically thrashing around on her back. It was uncannily reminiscent of a cockroach's death throes. Well, if she had a spirit animal... Eventually she settled, breathing hard.

He leaned over, looking down at her from his considerable height. "Done?"

Below Yuffie huffed and crossed her arms. "You weren't even the littlest bit worried! Jerk!" She scolded. And how did that figure? Wasn't she the one inconveniencing him here? He nudged her with his foot. "Is that you askin' to be tossed back in I'm hearing? I can graciously arrange it."

Yuffie's expression turned horrified and she frantically waved her arms in front of her face. "N-no! I didn't say anything at all! No sirree!" She yelped, quickly scrambling up. She slipped on the excess material of Seifer's coat a few times in the process, repeatedly falling down and having to start all over again. She wasn't graceful, that was certain. A stark difference from all the sorceresses Seifer had known. Even Rinoa had a quiet elegance when she wanted.

What was he getting himself into... Seifer waited with crossed arms as the girl —soon to be sorceress— brushed herself off. Her hands went to her hair, quickly tousling it in a sad attempt to get the worst of the water out. She looked like a stunted scarecrow by the end in an oversized coat. Once satisfied she looked balefully at Seifer.

"Why'd you follow me? Thought you didn't want the trouble of escorting a sorceress," she inquired scornfully. The animosity made sense; Seifer hadn't exactly strived to be quiet earlier. Still the accusation left him contemplating her. She really wasn't a placid little girl simply doing what the adults told her.

"Why'd you run to the water instead of your gangster friends," he retorted. The night wasn't growing any warmer, but it'd be hard to have a frank discussion with the girl's overprotective grandfather hovering. He blew out a breath, striving to will the cold away.

"They're no friends of mine," Yuffie was grousing, shivering herself. "I want this power for myself. I don't need any hangers-on." Squinting, she regarded him. "That includes you too!"

...Well. He could see why she'd hold that view. As far as the general public knew, he'd served two sorceresses. Still, he scoffed. "There'd have to be something to hang onto. The only thing I'm seeing here is juvenile acne," he informed the wannabe teenage terror.

From the way her face flushed he'd definitely hit on a sore spot. "Y, y, you...! AT LEAST I'M NOT OLD! GEEZER! FART!" Yuffie raged, pointing wildly at him. It was so unexpected and childish Seifer choked, struggling not to laugh. If her picture wasn't next to the word "brat" in the dictionary he definitely needed to submit it.

His silence was taken as capitulation and Yuffie crossed her arms triumphantly. "How's that? Bet you're real sorry now!" She crowed.

Apparently he was getting after dinner entertainment... Crossing his own arms, Seifer snorted. "I'll cry all the way to bed. You done?" He demanded. Sad, mad... Couldn't this kid just pick one? She was all over the damn place.

He supposed it made sense. She'd gotten some shocking news. Now people were trying to gun down her grandfather in broad daylight. And the old man himself wanted to pack her off with a bunch of strangers. Yuffie's own agency was missing in every part of this whole kerfluffled mess.

He'd be having a tantrum too in her position.

The ocean wind blew in with the surf, cold and wet. They both shivered fiercely and Seifer was reminded they weren't standing outside for their health. He waved a hand, setting aside the petty squabbling. "Let's get to the point. If you're so happy about becoming a sorceress: what're you doing out here?"

That was the heart of the matter, wasn't it? Someone excited wouldn't run crying and screaming to the beach. He didn't know the girl's situation, but... Any way you looked at it, this wasn't normal. Right?

Seemingly having hit a bullseye, Yuffie quieted down. Shivering non-stop now, she pulled Seifer's coat closer around herself, effectively becoming a child sized cocoon. She was quiet for so long Seifer was beginning to wonder if she'd retreated to complete her metamorphosis. Somehow he didn't think this kid would be turning into a butterfly...

"...It's the first letter," Yuffie's voice came out just when he'd given up on getting an answer. It was a tiny, cracked squeak. A deep loneliness dogged its edges. "The first letter my mom ever sent me. All these years she abandoned me ever since I was born. And now..."

A loud sniffle came from the cocoon. Seifer was considerate enough not to acknowledge it. He waited.

"...Am I just...a tool? Is that why she had me...? I..."

The waves crashed against the shore. In tandem with it, the sea breeze buffeted the pair with a ragged, weary howl. The two devoured the soft words that followed. But Seifer heard them well enough.

"Why was I born?"

It was a plea hanging unanswered in the face of the mercilessness of the world. A wish for an answer and a fear of one. ...It was just sad. Sad and pitiful. Seifer wanted to look away. This wasn't his problem. Yuffie wasn't his burden.

Putting his hands on his hips, he let out a slow breath. It rose up as a ghostly cloud before the wind ripped it away as if it had never existed. Just like his common sense.

"I guess that's what we're going to find out," he said calmly, leaning back to stare up at the dark sky. As expected: there were no answers there. ...He didn't realize until he said it that he was going to do this.

Meeting a sorceress, hunh. Once again he...

His thoughts were broken up by thin arms wrapping around his waist in a sudden and violent hug. He staggered. "Really?" Yuffie's muffled voice asked from within his coat. "Really really?!"

Taken by surprise, Seifer struggled to pull her off him. "Not if you don't let go!" He growled and instantly he was free. What the hell...!

Yuffie retreated a few steps and bowed her head, clutching his coat around her like a safety bubble. He was quickly learning to view that meekness with the hostile suspicion of enemy action. This girl was more unpredictable than his arrest record!

"Um, mm, hmm... I'm going to tell Gramps!" She announced, proving his intuition of further chaos correct. Spinning on her heel like a top, Yuffie took off running down the beach. ...And tripped on his coat, eating sand, almost immediately.

...

Sensing help wasn't coming, she awkwardly picked herself back up. "Y,y,you didn't see anything!" She announced loudly.

... ... ...

Pulling up the edges of his coat this time she continued running towards the shack.

Seifer put his face in his hand, shaking his head. What was he getting himself into...?

Back at the shack Gramps was delighted with Seifer's decision. He immediately handed over funds for traveling expenses, pulling the money out of the ice box of all places. Seifer tried to refuse, but the old man annoyingly insisted. ...He was beginning to get the idea aggravating stubbornness ran in the family.

Giving up, Seifer passed the money to Raijin to buy supplies in the morning. Might as well make use of it. With one more mouth to feed and a kid at that they weren't going to be able to continue roughing it.

Fujin and Raijin themselves seemed satisfied with his decision. All attempts to apologize for not consulting them were brushed off ("DECISION, YOURS." "We'll always support you, ya know! Bwa haha!"). No word of self-reproach was allowed out.

He didn't know if it was a good or bad thing... Either way a headache was brewing. Was it that hard for anyone to hear him out...?

He ended up settling down in a corner of the shack with a cup of Gramps's tea. The map he kept to get to their monster hunter gigs came out and he poured over it. Raijin was loudly discussing supplies with Fujin while Gramps was helping Yuffie excitedly pack. All in all it was a veritable ruckus.

Sipping his tea (really it was damn good), Seifer wondered what the hell he was doing again. The letter from Yuffie's mother had said to meet her in a town in Trabia. They were currently in the southern most tip of Galbadia along the Dingo Desert. Avoiding D-District Prison was a must, no need to test just how high his bail could go. This left two options. They could either travel along the monster infested Lallapalooza Canyon or take the long way round the coast. As per Seifer's luck, neither route was appealing.

The din in the shack rose and fell as he worked until everyone was asleep, but Seifer. Yuffie and Raijin tired themselves out early on. He didn't comment on which one had loudly yawned and yelled "I'm pooped!" first. Fujin and Gramps followed at the respectful hour of two in the morning. Quiet was finally blissfully returned.

After all the noise it was almost disturbing. Annoyingly Seifer was now left alone with his thoughts. And, like being mugged by his own traitorous brain, the topics he was looking to avoid quickly came to mind.

A sorceress...

The thought put him on edge. But he wasn't any weakling, or that's what he told himself. He wouldn't give in to emotional tyranny; even when it came from himself. All memories, all feelings, regarding the past were strangled and packed back up tight.

Eight months was eight months. He didn't need to talk about it. He sure as hell didn't want to reminisce about it. All he had to do was keep his head down for once and stick to the damn plan.

A flutter by the window caught his eye. Staring at the moving curtain, outlined in the silver moonlight, he unwantedly felt himself back in another room. One draped in delicate sheer cloths. If he turned around, what would he see? What did he hope to see... An insidious whisper voiced itself in the back of his mind.

Worthless fool.

His hand crumpled the map.