Miss Balamb Garden
Chapter One| Great Expectations
There were a few things Seifer Almasy expected when his ass was dragged back to Balamb Garden. The architecture would be as polished and serene. The cafeteria would be out of hot dogs. Students would be just as weirdly obsessed with their card game and willing to play at the most unsuitable moments. Dr Kadowaki would be in the infirmary, unshakeable and maternal and somehow completely unperturbed by all the fighting and end-of-the-world chaos that had gone on.
That woman was a tank.
The water pressure in the cadet showers would still suck. A huge metal rod would still be up Xu's behind. And Mr Leader and his dream team would be heralded as heroes.
While he came crawling back as the colossal screw up.
That was all over a year ago, and Seifer had to congratulate himself at how spot on he'd been. Particularly about Xu. She'd almost knocked him out with a punch the moment he stepped back into the headmaster's office.
Now Seifer had seen his fair share of the strange and the weird. Creepy, witchy crap that still made his skin crawl. Entire campuses floating around like some sort of freaky hovercraft. A thousand monsters rushing from the sky. Time and space torn apart, the world literally disintegrating.
He didn't think anything could faze him anymore. Headmaster Cid could waltz by dressed as a Chocobo and he wouldn't lift so much as an eyebrow.
But then there were the things he hadn't expected.
His possessions still kept in a box, dug out of storage.
Being given another chance to make SeeD again.
Commander Golden Boy being fairly civil to him even right off the cuff. There'd been some pity hanging in that otherwise dead-fish expression too which Seifer wanted to slap right off, but that had quickly dissipated as the months went by.
He had to admit, Puberty Boy made a decent sparring partner.
The absence of those pain-in-the-ass Garden faculty. Where had they all gone? No loss, in his opinion.
Raijin with a huge beam and Fujin uncharacteristically misty-eyed, ready to welcome him back at their shared common room, after he'd been dismissed from the headmaster's office and his re-admittance had been finalised. He had no idea they'd be there.
(It was probably the closest he'd ever been to misty-eyed himself when they put their arms around him, his ratty bag and Hyperion case dropping to the floor as he roughly grabbed their backs and the three of them stood there for a long time holding each other.)
Actually passing the SeeD exam and finally joining the mercenary force with guidance from his old instructor, the perfectly poised Quistis Trepe who'd lost none of her uptightness and rigidity.
The messenger girl and even Rinoa talking to him again, despite all the pain he'd inflicted on them even if he hadn't been in his right mind.
"Damn it," mumbled Seifer, quickening his long strides en route to the parking lot. He'd been nabbed by one of the instructors to check out a pest situation in the staffroom. Should've been a two minute request, but Instructor Jarrah was known to dive into long-winded conversations about all manner of things.
Now I know his favourite mouthwash, that his nephew's birthday on Monday, and his dry cleaning needs to be picked up at the end of the week.
And now he was late.
Zell Dincht and Irvine Kinneas both looked up when Seifer finally entered through the door. Zell had a pair of goggles snapped over his eyes; Irvine was wearing an apron over his neat, trendy clothes.
"Why're you so late?" demanded Zell.
Seifer removed his jacket, pulling it over the back of his head, and instinctively threw out, "The later I get here, the quicker this ends."
The blonde fist fighter raised his arms up in the air, "Dude. What gives? You don't have to be here, you know."
Seifer paused. "Yeah, I take it back. Force of habit."
Irvine snickered, "Always ready with those smart-alec lines. Is that what you used for your instructors?"
"One of 'em," replied Seifer dismissively, moving forward to the work bench where the pair were standing. "So what's happening today? You guys finished off the bookshelf?"
And as far as unexpected things went, probably the weirdest of them all: somehow becoming part of a wood work gathering (Seifer refused to call it a 'club') that included the cowboy and Chicken-wuss and sometimes Squall. They met once or twice a week to work on whatever project that needed doing: furniture or fixings around Garden, a bed frame or coffee table for those less fortunate in Balamb. Recently they'd been building furniture for the new orphanage Ellone was heading up.
Their work space was a room adjacent to the parking lot. It had been a sparse, vacant spot before where walls hadn't even been plasterboard, but since the war Zell had transformed it into a well-equipped and brightly-lit work room.
Zell had a natural talent for all things construction (one of the few things he was competent at, apart from eating and beating the crap out of people), and Irvine had gotten quite handy himself since Balamb Garden apparently crashed into Fisherman's Horizon (which idiot had been piloting when that happened?). At Irvine's casual insistence, Seifer had grudgingly joined them for a few sessions before realising how much he enjoyed working with his hands.
The feel of different types of timber under his fingers. The burnt smell of freshly cut wood. The measurements, the sanding, the accomplishment of the final product. It was a rewarding feeling, a different hobby, a way to channel his concentration and energy into something more productive and refined than training and fighting.
An hour whiled away as the three of them argued and debated on how best to approach a large wardrobe Ellone had requested, punctuated then and now by details of Seifer's latest mission in Dollet that had involved a bunch of wild Wendigos, Irvine's plans for his upcoming anniversary date with Selphie, and then both boys needling Zell about his more recent (and sad) attempt to woo the library girl.
Little did Seifer know another curveball was about to be tossed into the mess of his life.
It was after Irvine had finished sawing off a piece of birch wood, casually brushing away the sawdust from his apron and snapping up his goggles, that he brought it up.
"So has Selphie talked to you about the pageant?"
"What pageant?" Seifer said without looking up.
"Garden's holding a beauty pageant," provided Zell.
Seifer was stymied. The hell are we doing that for? Was that the pixie's idea? Of course it was.
"Okay then," he said slowly, still concentrating on sanding down the block he was holding. "What about it? We're not adding more to the stage, are we, because I swear to Hyne if I have to boost your ass up there again, Chicken-wuss - "
"Nah, stage is set. You're gonna be a contestant."
Seifer stopped and looked up. He glared at them rigidly for a good five seconds. Irvine didn't look perturbed. Zell busied himself with the sawhorse as if eager to avoid his gaze.
"I'm a boy."
Still Irvine didn't say anything.
"A man."
No response.
"A homosapien with a phallic anatomy, do you need me to prove it - " Seifer continued emphatically, placing both hands on the waistband of his pants.
"We get it, Seifer," said Irvine patiently. "The beauty pageant is one-of-a-kind. It's not for females, which is a real shame. It's for guys. Boys. Men. Homosapien with a phallic anatomy, such as yourself." He gestured down at Seifer's crotch with a mild expression.
Seifer said nothing. He kept his hard stare on the exasperatingly calm cowboy, waiting for him to burst out, "Jokes! There's no way Cid would let us do something like that."
Ten seconds passed. Irvine was still looking at him expectantly. Seifer was losing faith.
"…Why?" was all he managed.
"Raising money for the new orphanage Ellone is building," piped up Zell, more eager to join the conversation now he was sure Seifer wasn't going to react violently. "She's doing an amazing job and she's being supported by President Loire, of course, but she wants to raise awareness too. Give Garden a real sense of ownership and stake in the program."
"Tickets to attend the pageant are fifty gil each and then each of the contestants are gonna be auctioned off for a date with one of the big sponsors, a bit of fun, y'know - "
"You mean - like - go out to dinner with an old fart?" This was getting increasingly ludicrous.
"For charity," said Irvine as if this was the most reasonable thing in the world. "You'll have fun, Seifer. Feel what it's like to be wined and dined by one of the finest, what it's like - "
"To have a sugar daddy?"
"You'll be a great sugar baby, Almasy."
Their nonchalance brought on a twinge of annoyance and Seifer could feel his temper rising now that the shock had faded. "Why the hell are you saying it like it's already been decided?" he snarled.
"Well, Sefie did think you'd be a good contestant," shrugged Irvine. "Have a bit of fun with it."
"There's no way I'm doin' this. You guys are on your own."
"But it's for the orphanage," said Irvine.
His heart wrung in some sort of way, but Seifer stamped it down and said flatly, "Obviously you have mistaken me for someone who gives a rip."
"Knew he was heartless," Zell said to Irvine, rolling his eyes.
"Say what you want."
"Ah, c'mon, Seifer. You haven't even thought about it - "
"Are you guys doing it?"
"Well - no. We're judges."
"I'll trade you."
"Aw, hell no."
Seifer snorted. "My point exactly. I ain't doin' it. You can tell Little Miss Pixie I'm not having a part in it."
And that was that. Irvine and Zell had nothing to say in response to this, or perhaps wisely chose to hold their tongue knowing there was no use arguing any further. Seifer locked his jaw together and remained silent for the rest of their session, except to grunt out requests for tools and measurements. They didn't bring it up again.
Inwardly, he was mystified. And kinda pissed off. He didn't like things being decided for him, like he was a kid. Especially not something of this calibre - participating in a beauty pageant. When the hell had everyone sat around and discussed this without letting him know? It was like being a kid again, joining the game late and being relegated the role of pet dog while everyone else played mums and dads.
Sucks to be on the outside.
Always on the outside.
And so these begrudging thoughts turned over in Seifer's head later that afternoon as he made his way up the staffroom, covered in sawdust and scoffing down a sandwich he'd grabbed from the cafeteria.
"Seifer! Hey, SEIFER!"
Ah crap.
There was only one person in Garden who would shout his name in that jubilant manner.
Selphie. And he knew exactly what she wanted to talk to him about.
He just kept on walking, pretending not to hear, increasing his speed infinitesimally. But when he heard footsteps pick up behind him, Seifer threw all caution to the wind and broke into a mad sprint, launching himself into the elevator and rapidly slapping the 'close door' button before Selphie could reach him.
Seifer exhaled in relief when the doors slid shut and the lift began to ascend. Crisis averted.
Before a certain feeling of embarrassment and annoyance stole over him. What the hell was he doing, running away from her? All he had to do was spin around, look right in her sunshine face and tell her bluntly that he wasn't having any part in her whacked-up contest.
Bloody pageant.
Still grumbling, Seifer beeped the keycard Instructor Jarrah had passed onto him to gain access into the staffroom. Fortunately there was no one inside, and he set to work examining the trail of ants he found mostly concentrated in the kitchenette area. Seifer set down his toolkit and pulled out a pair of gloves, an inspection mirror and a pair of tweezers.
He'd been at it for fifteen minutes when another female voice startled him.
"Seifer?"
For the love of Hyne -
He almost leapt a foot into the air. He didn't, of course. That sort of flinching was only for pansies.
Quistis Trepe's face loomed into view as he abruptly turned his head around. Honey hair pinned back, blue eyes sharp and alert, SeeD uniform perfectly pressed. Yep, that was her alright, currently gazing at him in some sort of shock and recognition.
"I thought it was you. What are you doing?" she demanded.
"Instructor, shhh. I need you to be quiet."
"Are you shushing me?"
"Yep."
"But what are you even doing here?"
"Trying to hide a body."
Quistis gazed warily at him, her mouth pressed into a thin line, obviously unsure if he was joking or not. Which was frankly insulting. He'd been impeccably behaved since his return from the wrong side of wicked-witch-from-the-future, and had only slammed his fist into four different SeeDs' faces when he'd wanted to do much more than that. They had it coming. Bastards.
Seifer was about to open his mouth and discard a, "Kidding," when Quistis spoke wryly, "Try the cleaning cupboard. Clearly no one looks in there because this place always looks like ten Chocobos have trashed it."
Seifer stared, surprised at this display of Quistis-Trepe-with-a-sense-of-humour. Then he dropped his gaze and looked around properly, noticing for the first time just how messy it really was. And dirty. There were crumbs all over the table and the sink was full of plates that looked a few days old.
"You guys eat in here?"
"Yes. Cafeteria food gets brought up here, plus a few extras. Like fruit tarts." She took a box off the table and held it out to him.
"That's elitist."
"Do you want one?"
"Hell yeah." Without so much as a 'thank you' he grabbed the sticky treat from the box and crammed it into his mouth in one go. Quistis wrinkled her nose and he swallowed enormously before asking, "So why do you eat in the cafeteria then?"
"The company's much better than in here."
"Even with students ogling you?"
"Students don't ogle me, Seifer," she said with dignity.
"Sure they don't," he snickered, and Quistis pursed her lips. "Anyway, this place is freakin' filthy. That explains the infestation you've got goin' on here. Those genie ants."
"Oh, is that what you're doing? You're the pest inspector?"
"Second to Raijin. But he's busy tonight so I'm doing it for him."
"Really?"
"He'll be happy to add this to his collection," said Seifer with satisfaction, meticulously dropping one of the tiny creatures into a plastic container with air holes punched in.
Quistis looked a bit unsettled, "So does Raijin just have a shelf full of bugs in his dorm?"
"No, that would be creepy. He takes photos of them and adds them to his album."
"Then he squashes them?"
Seifer shot her an exaggerated, withering look, "Of course not. D'you think he's heartless? He takes it back to its habitat. Geez, instructor. You must be one of those prissy types that goes stomping on ants whenever they cross your path - HEY!"
Quistis had been about to flick a few genie ants that were creeping up to her plate with a rolled up Battle Series magazine. Seifer snatched it out of her hand right before she could land the blow.
"What are you doing?" she exclaimed.
"What are you doing? You can't just blast things outta your way."
This display of protection for insects seemed so blatantly out of character that Quistis was rendered speechless for several seconds, only able to stare as Seifer carefully scooped the few ants from her table and carried them back to the windowsill.
Quistis would be one of the first to admit that Seifer had mellowed out since the days he was a reckless student in her class, inflamed and possessed by a huge sense of importance. Now he was more bark than bite and, once you got past the acrimonious, dry sarcasm, actually wasn't too bad company.
Still, she never thought him as one to advocate the rights of ants.
"As I recall," she spoke delicately, "You didn't hesitate to blast things - or people - if you found them to be in your way."
Seifer didn't answer straight away, choosing instead to concentrate on screwing the lid on the container precisely and examining the window sill again.
"That was awhile ago."
"Yes. Yes it was," said Quistis thoughtfully. "So enlighten me, Seifer. What should I do?" Her eyes widened and she gasped, "Ahh! There's more here! They're on my papers!"
His lip curled in amusement. "Did you just squeal?"
"No."
"Yeah, you did," he smirked at her. "Quistis Trepe, renowned war hero, squeamish about little ants. Tell me, what else makes you squeal like that?"
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me." He regarded her with wicked sea-green eyes, all trouble and mischief, and she knew from experience there was no point chastising him.
"Please. Get rid of them or I will squash them."
Seifer chuckled, walking over and taking her exam papers to shake them off with the other ants by the window. "To answer your question, if you ever come across a bug, you should return it to its source. And if that's too close for your liking, then it's probably far from its own home. So you take that back. Come, have a look."
Hesitantly Quistis joined him by the window and he pointed down towards the forest.
"See down there? That hump on the log? That must be the nest. It's too close to the building so I'm gonna uproot the whole thing and take it back to the forest."
"Right," said Quistis, adjusting her glasses. "Well, that's very noble, Seifer - what are you doing?" For he had climbed up onto the sill, swinging one leg out of the open window.
"I told you. I need to take it back to the forest. And you should get someone to clean this place up or something else'll find its way here." He nodded over towards the sink.
"You're going to jump? But that's dangerous!"
"Sure it's dangerous. That's why it's fun. Wanna come?"
"Um, no, Seifer, and I don't think you should either - " she broke off abruptly as the cocky man-child leapt from the window and disappeared from view. Oh Hyne.
Quistis rushed over to look out, equal parts relieved and chagrined when she caught sight of him down on the grass below, grinning up at her and waving.
"Sure you don't want to join me, instructor?" he cupped his hands around his mouth and called out to her.
Still in shock, Quistis just shook her head. She didn't particularly want to holler down at him and attract more attention. Several students down at the lawn below were already gazing at them curiously. Guess it's not everyday you see someone jump off the second floor window.
"Have it your way. Looking forward to hearing you squeal again, instructor!" Seifer practically bellowed, clearly enjoying the effect of his words as he walked off towards the log. Quistis was mortified and stared after him agape, conscious of the shocked faces of the students. They glanced tentatively up at her and Quistis opened and closed her mouth a few times, debating whether to say something - anything - to make them stop looking so scandalised.
Finally she just walked back inside, shaking her head in bemusement.
Typical Seifer. Needs to be centre of attention. Always has to do something big.
Quistis' skin tickled and she looked down to see a genie ant had crawled onto her arm. Mastering the impulse to flick it off, she sucked in a breath and instead lowered her arm to be level with the window sill.
"Join your friends, please, and go back home," she muttered.
