5
CHAPTER 5 – WALTZ BENEATH THE STARS
"At ease!" Xu commanded.
Squall snapped out of his salute, and placed his hands behind his back. The 62 other newly appointed SeeDs he stood among did the same.
They were assembled in alphabetical order in the headmaster's grand hall. The man himself stood before his raised ebony and gold throne at the head of the chamber, flanked by Xu and his two Thorn advisers. An immense glass window spanned the entire wall to their rear, offering an unmatched view of the Alcaud Plains beyond. The walls to either side were decorated by more plaques than Squall could count. Even at only 12 years since its founding, SeeD had accrued a storied history. Its next chapter would begin with him and his fellow cadets. As he scanned his eyes across the assembly, he picked out Zell's spiked blonde hair near the front. Selphie was bound to be somewhere behind him; surely she'd earned a pass after what he and his squad had put her through.
Squall's routine over the last two days had been a simple one: eat, stroll about the campus to clear his head, and rest. He had no desire to touch his gunblade for the time being, nor go about his usual training regimen. Many of the others doubtless shared his sentiments. It had been an exhausting ordeal for them all, and not every soldier had left the battlefield unscathed.
Never before had the field exam concluded without a single casualty. According to the weekly student newsletter, 28 of the 225 participants had required medical attention in some capacity upon their return. Additionally, a total of 5 cadets and 2 SeeDs had fallen in the line of duty. Such losses were paltry compared to the Galbadian and Dollet casualty figures. All the same, they had undoubtedly been friends to many in the Garden. The headmaster had performed his annual obligation of sending word to the families of the deceased, who would be invited to attend the memorial service the following week.
"First and foremost, I wish to congratulate you all on a job well done," Cid began. "You've performed admirably. By standing here today, you have officially earned your place among the ranks of SeeD. Your uniforms will be delivered to your dormitories by tomorrow afternoon, before the graduation ball. I trust you'll all be attending. You are the esteemed guests of honor, after all."
Squall had no intention of turning up to the ball if he could avoid it; social gatherings of any kind ran counter to his loner nature. Neither had he ever attended the annual Garden Festival, held to commemorate the school term's end, for that matter. What the rest of the student body got out of such events would forever elude him.
"However, even as we celebrate your induction, do not forget that with this title comes far greater responsibility than you have faced thus far. From now on, you will be dispatched on assignments all across the globe, as representatives of this Garden. You will be expected to handle these missions with the utmost skill and professionalism. Remember, you are among the finest combat specialists in the world, members of Balamb's elite mercenary army…"
The headmaster stalled in his speech for a moment; an uncertain look flashed across his kindly, wrinkled face.
"But… that is merely one aspect of what SeeD truly is. And I tell you this now to prepare you for a day I know is fast approaching. When the time comes-"
"Headmaster," one of the Thorns interjected. "It is almost time for the meeting. Let us please make this short."
The robed man stepped in front of the headmaster, raised his arms, and proceeded to speak in his stead.
"SeeD is a valuable asset to Balamb Garden. Its reputation is dependent on each one of you, so handle your respective missions with care. Is that what you wanted to say, sir?"
Stunned silence fell upon the hall. In all his years as a cadet, Squall had never seen such brazen disrespect shown to the head of Balamb Garden. The looks of disbelief up and down his row assured him he wasn't alone. Cid stood still on the raised platform, his head bowed in deference.
"We will now present you with your SeeD rank reports," the obstinate Thorn spoke again.
He motioned to Xu with a wave of his arm. At his bidding, the commandant lifted a waiting stack of papers from a nearby table, and descended the steps.
Just who's really in charge here?
Xu swiftly made her way through the assembly, handing each new SeeD a stapled dossier. While all those present had attained SeeDship, their respective starting ranks and bi-weekly salary would vary in relation to their final scores. From what Squall had gleaned, on the scale of 1 to 30, the highest rank a fresh graduate could expect was typically in the 7 to 8 region. There were occasional exceptions; Quistis had received a staggering Rank 12, which had dovetailed into her promotion to instructor within months. Though he took Xu at her word that his results hadn't been impacted - that he'd passed at all was proof enough - he would be surprised to receive a score higher than 5. It would surely be lower than Selphie's at the very least, and perhaps even Zell's.
The commandant finally stepped in front of him. She whipped his report off the top of the stack, and held it out to him.
"You have Tilmitt to thank for this score," she said as he took it from her.
"Excuse…?"
She moved on to the next graduate before he could get the words out. His heart thundered in his chest. He flipped open the file, anxious as to what she could have meant. Upon their return, Xu had taken Selphie aside to get her full testimony down on record for the administration. Had she let slip something that had jeopardized his standing? He turned to the final page, his eyes coming to a rest on the bottom. There, beside the headmaster's stamped seal, his final score had been printed: 'SeeD Rank – 10'.
He couldn't believe his eyes. He blinked them rapidly, convinced it was a trick of the light. When that failed, he flipped the report back to the front; perhaps she'd handed him the wrong one. Sure enough, the cover bore the name 'Leonhart, Squall'.
This has got to be a mistake.
His eyes remained widened in amazement. Against all odds, and despite having effectively aided and abetted treason, he'd achieved a double-digit ranking. He re-opened the file to peruse the pages; there had to be an explanation somewhere. His eyes skimmed over the wealth of numerical figures and statistics, eventually coming to a hand-written summary on the second-to-last page:
Leonhart has proven himself an inimitable close-quarters combatant. His professional demeanor and workmanlike attitude is that of the model soldier. His strategic awareness has been noted by squad adviser Trepe. Of most important note however is his observed inclination towards a role of leadership, effectively stepping up to command his squad in lieu of the de-facto captain's dereliction, and his refusal to leave behind an incapacitated comrade in the face of almost certain death.
Squall did a double-take at the words printed on the paper.
'Inclination towards a role of leadership'?!
The thought was so far removed from reality it boggled the mind. He was no leader, and to be held to such a standard was more than he could accept.
"And with that, the SeeD inauguration is concluded," the headmaster spoke. "Dismissed!"
The assembly of new SeeDs saluted once again. With another motion from Xu, they all turned, and trickled towards the hall's large double doors. Squall stayed rooted to the spot as the murmuring kicked up, his eyes still trained to the headmaster and his advisers.
The Thorn's interruption had been more than a careless overstep; that he'd overheard essentially the same thing three nights earlier gave it precedent. More concerning was the headmaster's submissiveness both times. Even as they stepped down from the platform and ducked into the side door to his office, he looked more like a prisoner being shown to his cell.
"We did it, man!"
A hand clamped down on his shoulder. Out of the blue, Zell and Selphie had materialized by his side.
"Somehow," he muttered.
He shook Zell's hand off, and made his way down the red carpet to the doors. As he exited into the elevator antechamber, he spotted Quistis maneuvering her way through the rest of the students. Their eyes met. She flashed him a smile as she passed; however brief, there was something amiss.
"So, what'd we all get?" Selphie asked. "I got an 8! They appreciated my guts for following you guys up the mountain."
"I got a 7," Zell half-moaned. "I got points docked for arguing with Seifer on the boat. Even with all that's happened, they're still calling it insubordination."
"Be grateful we made it at all," Squall reminded him as he reached the elevators. He stepped aboard the nearest one, and pressed the button for the atrium.
"I know, I know. It just ticks me off. Figures the one deduction I get is because of him. But hey, how'd you score?"
"See for yourself."
He passed the report as the doors slid shut. Zell took it, and flipped to the last page. The expression which came over his face was priceless; Squall's own couldn't have been far off.
"Ten?! How's that work?!"
"Oh, congratulations, Squall!" Selphie cheered. "I made sure to put in a good word for you two. I'm really glad it paid off!"
"What did you say, exactly?" he asked.
"Nothing that wasn't true. You both did great out there. That, and you saved my life. I know I didn't get a chance to thank you before, so… thanks!"
"… it's nothing."
He'd merely acted as he saw fit in the heat of the moment. Ditzy and overly-excitable as she was, he couldn't have Selphie's death hanging on his conscience for the rest of his life. However, one noble deed did not a qualified leader make.
The lift reached the bottom. He stepped out of the elevator with his eyes absentmindedly fixed to the floor.
The only person worth looking out for is yourself. 'Inclination towards leadership', my-
A pair of black boots stood in his path. The grey coattails draped around them were just as familiar, the very same he'd laid eyes on before having the scar cleaved into his face. He craned his neck up to the man who bore its twin. Fujin and Raijin stood on either side of him. Zell's shoes squeaked as he fell into a fighting stance. Seifer stared blankly between the three of them without a word. Seconds passed in awkward silence, the tension continuing to mount. And then, a pursed smile crept over his lips; not a smirk, but a smile. He clapped his hands to them, his two lackeys joining in right away.
Is he mocking us?
"Congratulations," he said, extending his hand. "You made the cut. Put 'er there."
"Who are you?" Squall asked incredulously.
"Oh, come on. Credit where it's due, and all. Don't leave me hanging!"
"He's bein' serious, y'know?" Raijin insisted. "Jus' shake his hand, already!"
"Truce!" Fujin blurted out.
Zell looked every bit as put off by Seifer's unusually upbeat demeanor. Squall turned to Selphie; she shrugged as if to say he might as well. With nothing else for it, he reluctantly extended his hand. To his surprise, they shook without incident; he'd half-expected to be pulled into a headlock.
"Why so cheery?" Zell asked. "Here I figured you'd be pissed for weeks."
"It does kinda suck," Seifer admitted as he released the handshake. "They're doubling my training, plus I've gotta do community service. Grounds-keeping, helping with the Garden Festival, they're even putting me on the catering staff for tomorrow night. But I'm not gonna let this get me down. I've still got one more shot next year, and I'm gonna make it count!"
"Resolve!" Fujin said.
"That's the spirit!" Selphie cheered. "And I'm on the festival committee! I'll help you get settled in."
"I'd appreciate that."
The smile stuck to Seifer's lips unnerved Squall more than any fit of rage. There had to be some ulterior motive behind his sudden change in attitude.
"So, you guys heading to the ball?"
"Of course!" Zell said.
"You betcha!" Selphie pumped her fist.
"… sorry, not my thing," Squall muttered.
"You serious?!" Zell reeled. "It's the biggest day of your life, and you're just not gonna show up?"
"Yeah, what gives?" Selphie asked. "I hear it's gonna be real swanky! Live music, dancing, a full banquet and open bar, the works!"
She slyly leaned in towards him, and elbowed his right arm.
"Who knows? Maybe we can help score you a hot date while we're at it."
Squall had heard enough to pique his curiosity.
"Did you say, 'open bar'?"
The starry night sky sparkled through the ballroom's glass domed ceiling. Below, SeeDs new and old milled about the festivities with their dates. Some danced in the center, romantically swaying to the Garden chamber orchestra on stage. Others chatted by the banquet tables and fully stocked bar. Still others had retreated to the balconies for a more secluded, intimate setting. The merry atmosphere was all-encompassing; it was hard to believe many of them had been waging war mere days before.
The night had begun well enough. The SeeDs had assembled with their partners to the orchestra's opening strains. There had been another congratulatory speech from the headmaster, followed by a few words from the mayor of Balamb, who was known to attend each year's graduation ball with his wife. A toast to the new graduates had capped off the introductions, and the ball proper commenced.
Squall quietly observed from up against one of the archways. He was dressed in his new black and gold uniform, just as every other SeeD present. They'd provided their measurements on the exam application form several weeks earlier, allowing the tailoring staff time to fashion fitting uniforms for everyone. It had been delivered to his dorm that afternoon, just as the headmaster had promised. He'd looked himself over in his bedroom mirror before making his way up; it certainly cut a sleek figure on him, from the ornamented shoulder imprints down to the solid black boots.
Each attendee was permitted to bring a date for the occasion, SeeD or non. It was each student's responsibility to forward the information to their instructor ahead of the exam; having the date's details would allow them to attend by themselves in the event the candidate in question failed. Squall had made no effort to ask anyone to be his partner, leaving him by his lonesome amid the merriment. And yet, it was not jealousy of the dancing couples that had compelled Squall to the sidelines, but an unshakable feeling he had no business standing there at all.
He'd achieved his goal of becoming a SeeD. He'd received higher marks on the exam than most cadets could dream of. The moment he'd built up in his mind for so long had finally arrived. And yet, he hadn't earned it. He'd willingly followed Seifer in his desertion, and was just as deserving of the same punishment. Moreover, Seifer's talk of chasing his dream continued to nip away at him; with nothing more to aspire for, what did he have left to give his life meaning? He longed for release, for some way to smother his worries before they became too much to bear.
The bubbling glass of champagne in his hand was the solution he'd opted for. It was only his second of the night, and he was sure at least a few more re-fills would be on their way soon. The legal drinking age was 18, though none of the catering staff could be bothered to check student IDs on such an occasion. It was far from Squall's first experience with alcohol; he wasn't a heavy drinker by any means, but it would take more than a measly two glasses to reach his desired state of inebriation.
He took another swig, and raised his eyes skyward. It was indeed a beautiful night; the stars and moon lit up the void beyond the glass dome, made all the more prominent by the light from the Garden's hovering ring. As he continued to gaze intently, a strange feeling of nostalgia washed over him. He could almost feel a peaceful breeze sweep across his body, causing the hairs on his arms to stand up on end. The sound of crashing waves and scent of saltwater came to mind. He wasn't sure why; he'd certainly not had the leisure to admire such things on the shores of either Balamb or Dollet.
A shooting star suddenly passed before his eyes. It arced across the sky, dipping down as if to land in the center of the ballroom. He traced the twinkling swathe to the dance floor directly ahead. The couples continued to waltz obliviously with one another. None of them had seen it. Except for one.
A young woman stared up from slightly outside the center. She looked to be around his own age, though her lack of a uniform implied she was not a SeeD. She instead wore a white halter dress with matching heels, the color a stark contrast to her flowing dark hair. A silver ring hung from a thin chain around her neck. She lowered her gaze from the stars, turning to look about the ballroom. Squall met her deep brown eyes as they landed on him. She paused, held the stare, and then smiled gently. She brought her index finger up, pointing to the ceiling.
'You saw it, too?' she seemed to be gesturing.
Squall quickly averted his eyes. He was in no mood to socialize, least of all with so much anxiety weighing him down. It slowly dawned on him that he was wasting his time trying to drink his worries away. Perhaps the night would be better spent reorganizing his belongings for re-location; along with his promotion, he would receive his own private living quarters sometime in the next week. He would need to be fully packed up for when the moving staff arrived. He extended his arm to place his glass down on the nearby pedestal, when the clacking of approaching heels froze him in mid-motion.
He turned his eyes back to the dance floor. The smiling girl was making her way over to him. As she drew near, the caramel highlights running through her hair became more pronounced, three on either side of her rounded face.
"You know," she started in a sweet, slightly seductive tone. "I think you might be the best-looking guy here."
"If you say so," he brushed her off.
Though the bruises had mostly healed, he'd figured his new scar alone would have served to repel any unwanted advances. Apparently, there was no accounting for taste.
"What do you say to a dance?" she offered her hand.
You've got to be kidding.
"Not interested," he bluntly replied.
He took another sip on reflex.
"Aw, why not? It's just one dance. You've been standing by yourself over here the whole time. Don't you want to loosen up a bit? Or… are you one of those types who'll only dance with someone he likes?"
"Sure, let's go with that."
He swigged back yet more champagne to calm his growing irritation.
"Alright, then."
She puffed herself up, stepping even further into his personal space; she was now more or less pinning him to the wall. He didn't dare try to push her off on account of the unwanted attention it might bring. She looked directly into his eyes. Their noses were almost touching.
"You're going to like me," she chanted in a faux-mystic intonation. "You're going to like me."
I'm going to hate you.
"Did it work?"
She's worse than Selphie.
He lifted the glass to his lips again, but stopped. He would surely end up drinking himself into a stupor before she finally took the hint. While doing so had more or less been his reason for showing up, he intended to accomplish as much on his own terms. He set the glass down on the pedestal, and looked her right in the eyes.
"I can't dance," he lied.
"Oh, you'll be fine," she grinned mischievously.
She grabbed his wrist without warning, and yanked him from the wall. Squall stumbled forward, caught completely off guard. She wasn't particularly strong, at least not compared to him; he could have easily broken free from her grip, but again restrained himself so as not to draw attention. She dragged him along to the crowd of dancing couples.
"I'm looking for someone," she said. "I can't be out here on the dance floor by myself!"
"I don't care what you-"
He jerked to a halt as they reached the center. She forcibly moved his left hand to her waist, took hold of his right, and placed her own right on his shoulder. She set her feet into motion as the next measure of the waltz came around. Squall purposefully stifled his movements; perhaps she would give up if he pretended he'd had a few too many drinks. It made no difference; she proceeded to lug him around like a dead weight. It wasn't long before his negligence sent them colliding into another couple.
"Hey, watch it!" the male SeeD snapped at him.
"Sorry," he apologized.
Now was his chance to slip away from his captor. He needed to get some fresh air before he blew a gasket. He turned away, only to feel her fingers grab his sleeve from behind. His frustration flared to new heights. There was no holding back his emotions now; whether or not he ended up causing a scene, this girl needed to be put in her place. He spun back around to give her a piece of his mind, but stopped as he opened his mouth. The look on her face seemed concerned, sympathetic even.
"Please," she spoke to him. "There's no need to be so high strung. It's only a dance. Just relax, okay? Tonight's supposed to be about having fun, right?"
Squall's swelling anger instantly deflated, leaving him with no clue how to respond. With all that had happened in the last few days, enjoying himself had been rendered dead last on his list of priorities. He'd come to the ball to drown his sorrows, to drink his worries away until they no longer mattered to him. It had been no use. Meanwhile, here was this girl, who'd appeared from the blue to offer him the release he longed for, and in his dejection, he'd tried to shoot her down for it. Even now, her pleading brown eyes begged him to let her be of some help.
"I… guess one dance won't kill me."
She smiled as he willingly took her hand. She placed her other on his shoulder again. After a few more beats, they began anew.
The two pranced and twirled about to the jovial waltz. She matched his movements perfectly, following his lead with fluidity and grace. She had clearly taken lessons. So had he, as part of the Garden's espionage training seminar. They elegantly intertwined and parted, continuing on for several minutes amid their fellow dancers. By the end, even Squall had to admit he was enjoying himself. She was the ideal dancing partner, more skilled on her feet than many cadets he'd practiced with, and very pretty besides.
The waltz at last drew to a close, the orchestra finishing with a drawn out rubato. They pulled each other in, Squall's left hand on her waist, the fingertips of his right touching hers. A genuine happiness swelled up in his chest. The corners of his lips perked up slightly as they stared at each other, seemingly frozen in time. In that moment, he felt truly alive.
The illusion was shattered by a sudden burst of applause. Squall craned his neck towards the stage, watching the conductor take a short bow before turning back to the orchestra. He flipped his score to the next piece and raised his baton. Squall swiveled his eyes back to his dance partner. Her own now peered over his shoulder. She removed herself from their embrace.
"See ya," she said with a wink and a small wave.
She hurriedly took off in the direction she'd been looking. He turned to call her back, but she was already halfway to the banquet tables. The orchestra started again, this time to a romantic slow dance. The other couples around him swayed back into motion. The girl's white dress vanished from sight, leaving him alone in the center of the dance floor. He hung his head in disappointment; the misery returned as quickly as it had faded.
He'd reluctantly opened himself up. He'd allowed himself to be vulnerable with another for the first time, and felt real peace of mind in the moment. And yet, by allowing himself to be swept away, he'd forgotten the most important truth of all: to rely on others for emotional support was to be rendered incapable and weakened. Nothing lasted forever, least of all the affection of others; becoming dependent on anyone would only lead to his undoing. And now that the moment was over, he was left with exactly that: nothing.
And this… this is why I don't even bother…
It had truly been a sight to behold; never had Quistis seen Squall so genuinely invested with someone else than for those few minutes. She'd observed their waltz from afar, captivated by the grace with which they'd moved, left to wonder just what the girl had done to draw it out of him. She'd tried countless times over the years to get him to open up, only to be beaten to the punch in a single night. It filled her with happiness, and also the tiniest pang of jealousy. Such feelings had no place in her heart; it was her duty as an instructor to remain impartial, and interact with students on a professional level.
'Was.'
The girl stepped away with a faint wave to him, and made her way across the room. Squall stayed fixed to the spot, longingly staring after her as the music started up again. He hung his head as the surrounding graduates and their dates went on dancing around him. Evidently, he was taking it personally that she'd simply had her fill for the evening. He eventually retreated out of the center to one of the balconies.
Quistis followed, sidestepping her way around the room's circumference. She came to the archway leading outside, and stepped onto the vista. The view from the Garden's 15th floor was breathtaking; the vast forested plains far below trailed to the Gaulg Mountains in the distance. What light there was at this late hour came from the Garden's floating halo above.
Squall stood hunched over the metal banister with his arms crossed. He certainly did not seem as approachable now as he just had moments ago on the dance floor. Given the privacy they'd been afforded however, there was no more opportune time.
"You… really are an excellent student," she fumbled for a conversation starter. "Even that dance was perfect."
Squall did not turn to face her. A long pause lingered before he spoke, his voice barely audible over the orchestra to their backs.
"Oh… you saw?"
"Yeah."
She strode up to the banister, and leaned over beside him, crossing her own arms in imitation.
"Whatever brought that on?" she prodded.
"Is there something you want?" he asked irritably.
"So, you'll dance with someone you don't even know, but can't stand being around me?"
"You're an instructor. I'm your student. It's awkward."
"Well then, I guess… every cloud does have a silver lining."
She let the ominous comment hang between them, hoping it would pique Squall's interest while she gathered her thoughts to explain. The previous day's meeting in the headmaster's office had been swift and deliberate. No time had been wasted in determining the proper course of action; it had surely already been discussed at length since the field exam's conclusion. She'd seen the writing on the wall from far off. She'd expected Seifer's dereliction to have ramifications on her standing as well. Headmaster Cid, the kind soul he was, had handled the proceedings with a gentle touch; his disappointment with the verdict was evident, just as Xu's. The Thorns had been merciless by contrast; they'd explained in no uncertain terms that her tenure was a failure.
"Effective immediately… I, Quistis Trepe, am no longer an instructor. I'm just a normal SeeD operative again, like you."
Her dream was at an end. For however much it pained her to put into words, it was why she had come; she desperately needed someone to confide in. Still, Squall refused to look at her.
"Who knows?" she continued, trying her hardest to crack a smile. "Maybe we'll end up working on a mission together, sometime."
"Oh… really?"
"That's it? That's all you're going to say?"
"What am I supposed to? If that's how it's been decided, then there's nothing more to it, is there?"
Quistis slumped forward again, the light breeze sweeping her golden bangs across her face. Squall was right; there was no method of appeal. It would forever stay as a black mark on her otherwise spotless record.
"They told me I failed as an instructor. That I lacked leadership qualities. That it was a mistake to have given the promotion to someone so inexperienced. I wasn't strict enough, didn't discipline my students the way they wanted. Seifer was all the proof they needed on that one. But that…"
She paused, a lump forming in her throat as she fought to eek the words out.
"That… wasn't the kind of instructor I wanted to be. I thought I could do things differently. I thought I could make friends with my students, be the kind of person to build them up instead of tearing them down for every little mistake. I tried my best… I really did. I wonder where I went wrong… are you listening?"
"Are you done yet?" Squall snapped as he stood up straight. "Why are you dumping this all on me? What do you expect me to say?"
"I'm not asking you to say anything!"
She shot up from the banister to face him, now fighting back tears.
"I just want you to listen!"
"Then go talk to a wall!" he exploded. "I'm in no mood for this. I've got my own problems, and I don't need any more on my mind."
"Then tell me! I've said it before, that I'm always here if you need someone to talk to! Aren't there times when you want to share your feelings with someone? Just to make everything feel a little better?"
"Never."
His voice was cold as he stepped back towards the ballroom.
"The world is cruel, and everyone faces it on their own. I don't want to carry anyone else's burden."
"Do you…" She stammered, her voice cracking. The first watery trails streamed down her cheeks as she balanced herself against the guardrail. "Do you really believe that? That everyone can just get by on their own? Last I checked, it was me who saved you from that… thing back on the beach."
"Then maybe you should have done me a favor, and left me to die."
He strode back inside without another word, leaving Quistis by herself on the balcony. She buried her head in her arms on the ledge. The tears spilled from her eyes uncontrollably.
No leadership qualities… failed instructor… perhaps they're right…