Author's Notes: For the awesome angelosearch. Happy Birthday, my friend! :)

In this fic, I used the following prompts from my FFVIII Bingo Card (Places) along with the Challenge Word ebullient:

• "ON VACATION!?"
• "I hate this pet shop!"
• Timber

The NPC who says these lines of dialogue is a young boy in Timber who adores his dog named Georgie.

P.S. My use of the word mistress refers to the older definition of "a female owner of a pet or other animal."


The Angelo Diaries


My mistress was in a deeper slumber than usual and missed her wake-up alarm at 0500 hours. I knew how much it would mean for her to be able to hug Mr. Leonhart goodbye at the first light of dawn, so I used teeth and paws to deprive Rinoa of her weighted blanket from that sleep-stubborn grip of hers.

Upon the realization that she had but ten minutes until Mr. Leonhart was scheduled to depart from the sleepy corridors of Balamb Garden to fly to the First Annual Peace Summit in the Nation of Esthar, she completed her morning beauty routine with such speed and precision as to be worthy of an accolade.

When she returned to our dormitory post-farewell, there was an understated sorrow in her expression that gave my heart a fresh ache. I sensed that her emotional pain could not be as simple as missing her beau.

Was she imagining the week ahead without the expected protection that comes from being the Commander's Lady? Certainly, no one would dare to affront dear Rinoa, but I wonder if what is happening in recent times is equally unpleasant: an undercurrent of anxiety and whispers of doubt pointing to the Sorceress whose powers have the potential to "blow us to smithereens" (a novel expression that I picked up from Ms. Tilmitt).

Though the people do not necessarily vocalize their misgivings, I believe they are afraid of Rinoa and who she might become; consequently, Rinoa is beginning to waver in how she views herself.

I, Sant' Angelo di Roma, pledge to cheer up my mistress and help her regain her self-confidence!


Rinoa embarked upon an unusual quest around Garden to collect dying plants and flowers. With ebullient efforts, she successfully acquired a fiddle leaf fig tree from the Cafeteria Lady and a bouquet of roses from Ms. Xu (I wonder who gave them to her?). The two of us took our gifts to the Balamb Ocean for magic practice from afternoon to sundown.

In addition to the privacy and serenity of this long stretch of paradise shore, there is something favorable about the climate of this continent that blunts the harsher outcomes of Rinoa's spells. As she attempted to bring the yellowed tree and the withered roses back to life, she experienced very little side effects—especially not the accidental fires that have occurred more times than she cares to admit.

Did you know that in the last practice session, my poor tail nearly got scorched? I will never forget the way that my mistress cried out in fear for my safety and entered a bout of misery for two days straight. At the end of her broody withdrawal, so startlingly like Mr. Leonhart's, she declared that today is a new day and that she could not waste any more time sitting around and feeling sorry for herself, because a Sorceress is a Lady, and a Lady should always embrace both her strengths and her weaknesses with a posture of lifelong learning and self-grace.

Although the fig tree and the roses did not combust, neither did they get revived from their ailing state.

Tomorrow will be another new day.


Rinoa was not in the mood for practicing her Sorceress magic today. Ms. Trepe and Ms. Tilmitt were off duty for the first time in a while, which allowed the three girls to improvise a day spa in Ms. Trepe's clean and spacious dormitory. I had the privilege of enjoying a luxurious bath and munching on my favorite peanut butter and honey oatmeal treats while the girls relaxed in their yoga attire with braided hair and the shiniest manicures.

In the evening, Rinoa phoned Mr. Leonhart as usual. It sounded like his week was moving along swimmingly. He even reported making some progress with his father (President Loire). When the business portion of the conversation came to an end, she playfully demanded that Mr. Leonhart say something romantic to her. I could clearly picture the boy's cheeks getting red on the other end of the phone as he muttered that he lacked the skill of "on-demand romance."

She sighed, told him he was no fun, and bade him goodnight. To my surprise, Mr. Leonhart stammered, "Wait!" and hastened to recite every single entry from his personal planner for the next month or so. She was not only baffled and amused by his monotone speech, but also subtly indignant that his calendar was already full without her.

What Rinoa did not realize was that every event was associated with her. Indeed, Mr. Leonhart confessed that he had researched multiple ideas for dates but had no idea which ones she would prefer. At his disclosure, Rinoa grew incredibly delighted and asked him to read everything all over again.

The comforting hum of Mr. Leonhart on speakerphone proved to be the perfect lullaby for me.


Rinoa and I put on our game faces and spent a grueling workday at the shores of Balamb. To her satisfaction, she resurrected the fiddle leaf fig tree and shouted in triumph, only to have the whole thing literally explode in her face, thankfully not in hot tongues of flame but in a peculiar nova of magical dust motes that caused the both of us to feel lightheaded and sneezy for the remainder of the afternoon. As we made our way back home, I barked and nudged my mistress toward the infirmary.

Dr. Kadowaki urged Rinoa to drink from a glittering vial and recline in one of the beds. How terribly weakened and pale she looked from her strenuous session! And yet, there was nothing more that I could do than to rest beside her to show my support. Every so often, I would still hiccup from the magical aftermath.

When Rinoa was finally well enough to sit up again, Dr. Kadowaki looked her in the eye and kindly suggested a magic-free vacation.

"Don't put so much pressure on yourself. Sometimes, all you need is a good break!"


Rinoa was mightily inspired by Dr. Kadowaki's self-care directive, for the very next morning, she roused me from sleep and announced that we were to spend the weekend in Timber for a rollicking good time.

On the train ride there, Rinoa was in a rather introspective mood. She reflected to me in somber tones that truly, she did not think herself capable of ever becoming the kind of Sorceress who was evil and oppressive and used her powers for selfish purposes, but what if people were right? What if history rhymed after all? What if she ended up turning against her friends and family…?

Just then, the skies darkened. Rain began to pour forth in thick sheets. Thunder boomed in the distance. The weather forecast had indicated exactly the opposite, so you can imagine how disappointed Rinoa was. When we got off at the train station, we scurried along beneath her tiny fashion parasol, which was better than no cover at all.

As we passed the pet shop, I wondered how my acquaintance Georgie was doing. Georgie once told me that the mistress of the pet shop is a woman who gives generous discounts to humans but is insensitive toward their animals (I myself have never set paw inside the shop). One time, the woman left for a sudden errand and locked Georgie inside by himself. His owner, a sweet little boy of eight or nine years old, became traumatized by the incident and declared to the town: "I hate this pet shop!"

The rain did not subside for the rest of the day. Nevertheless, we were able to reunite with Mr. Zone and Mr. Watts for dinner and a matinée movie. For my bedtime story, Rinoa chose Bunnicula: A Rabbit-Tale of Mystery. The tale was narrated by an old, lovable family dog named Harold. I'm sure that if Harold were real, I would have gotten along with him and the rest of his animal friends quite well. I was entertained by the book tremendously—Rinoa always chooses the best for me.

I sincerely hope that the rain will stop by tomorrow.


When I stirred awake in the wee hours, it appeared that the rainstorm had persisted all throughout the night. I trotted over to the windowsill and discovered new rivers making their home in the small streets of Timber. It was a miracle that our hotel was intact and not floating away like debris. But, I knew that this modest town wasn't built to withstand such severe weather conditions. I couldn't shake off my worry so I kept watch at the window, looking for any sign out of the ordinary. Suddenly, I felt a rumble beneath my paws. I yelped to alert my mistress—of what, I did not know, only that there was danger approaching shortly.

Rinoa was half-asleep but managed to rush to my side, and at precisely the same moment, we came to the realization (I with my canine senses and she with her Sorceress intuition) that the flooding waters and blustering winds were upsetting the very foundation of the town! In the flash of an eye, she exited onto the patio, braced herself into a battle stance, and extended her hands to the sky as if to seek the mercy of the Great Hyne. I witnessed her gathering up all her magic energy, her muscles trembling with the fantastic effort, the elements still battering in diagonal torrents all around her.

There came a great CRACK! that reverberated for miles around. I somehow knew, rather than felt, that Rinoa had fortified and repaired the town and everything in it with a powerful spell, born out of the desperate desire to protect the people of the place that she called Home.

Her knees gave way and she landed upon the cold surface of the patio in a painful sitting position. She was not fully incapacitated, but the flowing out of magic had depleted her energy significantly. I used all the strength that I could muster to move her back inside of our room. Following a hot bath, my mistress placed a gel mask upon her dry eyes (one of her latest symptoms of magic exertion) and spent the rest of the day drifting in and out of sleep…

And now, it is my turn to go to sleep.


When Rinoa and I made it back to Balamb Garden, Mr. Leonhart was waiting for us at the front gate. His worried frown turned into a gentle smile as he embraced my mistress and scratched me behind the ears in a warm greeting. When he asked her what the highlight of her weekend was, she shrugged in a casual manner and stated with a mysterious smile, "I saved the town of Timber." I expected Mr. Leonhart to show some outward sign of disbelief such as the raising of the brows, but he surprised me once again with his tender response: "Tell me all about it over breakfast." I am ever so grateful that Rinoa has found Mr. Leonhart, who loves her with a depth that moves me each and every day.

I, Sant' Angelo di Roma, am happy to affirm that my mistress has finally regained her self-confidence!

The End