11
CHAPTER 11 – A MATTER OF HONOR
"Thank you so much, Miss Agnes," the girl named Rinoa said.
The heavy-set, elderly woman quickly locked the door behind them. She wore a simple brown dress with a white apron over top, her greying hair secured by a green bandanna.
"Of course, hun," she replied. "It's the least I can do after… well, I'm sorry about your base."
"Yeah," the girl sighed. "Watts went off to look for survivors. I hope they managed to get away."
Quistis swept her eyes across the town home's cozy interior. The main level consisted of a single multi-purpose room. A circular wooden table sat in the center atop a muted green carpet. The kitchen space stretched around the northeast perimeter, comprised of a small gas stove, a refrigerator, and a dishwasher/sink combo. A flight of wooden stairs stood opposite, leading up to the second level. It was a humble abode, far too small for the five of them, Agnes, and her mid-twenties daughter by the stove. A small sofa faced an outdated TV set in the corner. The news anchors on screen continued to discuss the breaking hostage situation, interspersed with shots of the TV station's cordoned off exterior.
"It'll be okay," Agnes' daughter assured Rinoa. She opened a cabinet to retrieve a set of tea cups. "Your group's always been good at making a quick getaway, right? They'll be fine. Here, have some tea. Make yourselves at home."
She gently placed the porcelain cups on the table, and gestured to the seats as she turned back to the kettle. Squall dragged out the first wooden chair. Quistis followed suit with Zell and Selphie right after. Rinoa remained standing, staring blankly at the table's surface. She finally moved as the daughter rounded the table to begin pouring.
"Thanks, Colette," she muttered. She took her seat, cradling the steaming cup in her hands.
The group's escape had surprisingly gone off without incident. They'd made use of the sound stage's rear fire exit to return to street level. There, from atop the outdoor metal landing, a billowing pillar of black smoke could be seen rising from the outskirts of the city. Rinoa and her fellow resistance operative had been heartbroken at the sight. Quistis only hoped she would not be forced to see Balamb Garden meet the same fate by the day's end. She kept one eye fixed to the TV all the while. Strangely, the network had yet to show any footage of the actual broadcast; she'd assumed any news organization would leap at the opportunity to replay it on a near constant loop. Neither did the commentators make any mention of the substance or intent behind Deling's address, nor even SeeD, instead fixating on the question of how his security detail could have been so unprepared. For however little she still understood of the incident, they seemed to know even less.
Still fatigued from her journey across the sea, she'd spent the group's hurried trek through the back streets attempting to piece together the scenario she'd stumbled into. Try as she might, nothing could make sense of the fate that had befallen Seifer. Only slightly less peculiar was Rinoa herself; Quistis had instantly recognized her as the girl Squall had danced with at the graduation ball. Given what she'd learned over the last two days, her presence that night had surely been no coincidence.
"So, you guys are kinda like an open secret around town?" Selphie asked Rinoa as she took a sip from her tea.
"You could say that. As far as the other factions go, at least. Miss Agnes is actually the leader of the Forest Foxes."
"Seriously?!" Zell nearly spat his own drink out.
"You bet your hide, spiky," the elderly woman quipped from the sofa. "There're more resistance groups in this town than you'd believe. Rinoa's is the only one still active these days, though."
"Why's that?" Selphie asked. "If there's so many, why not all band together and stick it to Galbadia as one big super-resistance?"
"You think we didn't try that back in the day, sweetie? The army's too much to handle. And besides, after all this time, a lotta us have got different priorities. Colette's little ones, my grandkids, mean everything to me. We're trying to bring them up as best we can without painting a target on our backs."
"Guess we haven't been helping much," Squall cut in.
"It's something we could do without," Colette acknowledged from the window. "But we know Rinoa's got her heart in the right place. And we always look out for our own when someone needs it."
"I'm so sorry," Rinoa apologized. Her mussed dark hair drooped over the steam rising from her tea cup. "And that goes for everyone here. If it weren't for me, then… he wouldn't have…"
Quistis took a sip to calm her nerves. Her intuition must have been on the mark; the girl's presence at the ball and the events of the last 24 hours were all the proof she needed.
'Only one woman,' he says… but why does he think I'm trying to be like her?
"What I wanna know is how Seifer got here in the first place," Zell said. He shot Quistis a glance from across the table. "Instructor?"
"You're not supposed to call me that anymore, Zell," she reminded him.
The very mention of her former title sent a pang of regret through her stomach. It was a wound still on the mend, as was her explosive falling out with the appointed squad leader at the table.
"You're always gonna be 'Instructor Trepe' to me," he smiled back. "It's who you really are."
It took all she had not to blush, reminded of just how reliable the hot-headed boy was. It had been he who'd patiently listened to her woes in her time of need. Even now, in the midst of such dire circumstances, he offered her reassurance. It gave her strength to recount the harrowing tale to them.
"It was around noon yesterday," she began; her exhausted mind strained to recall it. "I was taking a stroll around the campus to clear my head, and you can probably guess who I found helping with the grounds-keeping…"
Quistis emerged from the dormitories' side entrance, and descended the stone steps into the semi-circular inner courtyard. The cafeteria lay directly ahead; so close to midday, the routine influx of students gathering for lunch had arrived on the scene. Many had spilled out into the courtyard for post-meal recreation. Others dined alfresco at the small cluster of picnic tables; there was nary a cloud in the sky to deter them. A comforting breeze washed over Quistis, allowing her to put aside the hardships of the last week for a moment.
Since having her instructor's license revoked, she had been forced to vacate her private quarters on the 17th floor. She'd only had the room for a mere six months, so briefly that her old room in the dorms had yet to be given to another tenant. She was for all intents and purposes right back to square one. It still weighed on her heart, as did her blowout with Squall. And so, after eight long days spent miring in her misery, she'd finally found the determination to make amends.
"You call that an even cut?!"
The shrill outburst drew her attention to a nearby patch of shrubbery along the walkway. Commandant Xu stood by its side, her arms crossed in disapproval as she stared down at a young man with hedge clippers. Quistis did a double take upon seeing his face; she'd barely recognized him without the grey jacket. The gardener's smock and landscaping hat he wore now were almost too much for her to handle.
"I'm not finished yet!" Seifer shot back as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "I'm going to touch it up once I'm done taking the top off."
"You've already mutilated the poor thing!" Xu raged. "Keep doing a half-assed job, and I'll triple your training! Got it?"
"Apologies, ma'am. I must have been absent when we covered this in class."
"Don't get snippy!"
"But you'd better get snipping!" Quistis jumped in.
She chuckled to herself as their eyes swiveled to her. Seifer wore a resentful glare, Xu an embarrassed grimace. Quistis regretted nothing; the jab, however cringe-worthy, had been there for the taking.
"Glad to see you're back in good spirits," the commandant said as the belligerent blonde returned to work. "I take it you're moved back in? Any issues?"
"No, none," she replied, reverting to a more professional demeanor. "I felt kind of sorry for the moving staff though, having to take everything back out after they moved it up less than a year ago."
"Don't," Xu insisted. "It's their job. They do it every year for the incoming graduates."
"I suppose so. Speaking of which, you haven't seen Squall around, have you? I was just asking around the dorms for his new room, but he wasn't there."
"Leonhart? He was just sent on his first mission last night, with Dincht and Tilmitt no less."
"Oh."
Quistis hung her head. Apparently, she'd stayed absorbed in her sorrows for just a day too long.
"Well, good for him. Do we have any estimate on when they'll be back?"
"Not anytime soon, I'd say," Xu scoffed. "I looked over the paperwork a few days ago. I couldn't believe the headmaster actually gave the go-ahead on this one. They were sent to Timber, to support some skimpy resistance group."
"Are you shitting me?!"
Quistis jumped as Seifer bolted to his feet. He let the hedge clippers fall from his hands, and ripped the landscaping hat from his head.
"They're only sending three complete rookies?! And one of 'em's the chicken-wuss?! They might end up fightin' the whole Galbadian army!"
"And just how do you know the details of their mission?" Xu asked.
"Because I'm the one who convinced Cid to take it in the first place! I've got someone important to me in that resistance group. Those three alone are not gonna cut it for what they've got planned!"
"That's not our concern. With how small the payment was, they were lucky to get any assistance at all. It never ceases to amaze me, though. Why the headmaster continues to give you the time of day is beyond me."
"So, the only thing that matters to you is how much money you can squeeze out of everyone?" Seifer spat in disgust. "What happened to standing up for a cause? Or being a force for change? Don't you have any sense of honor?"
"That's the reality of working for a mercenary army," Xu reminded him. "If you don't like it, you're welcome to drop out at any time. Now, quit complaining and get back to work!"
Quistis looked on with unease. A vicious electricity hung between the two, their stares not breaking from one another for several moments more. She didn't know the details of their contract, nor the specifics of what Squall and his comrades would be pressed into. Regardless, it was not her place to argue with decisions made by the headmaster.
Seifer finally retrieved the hat from the ground, and returned it to his head, his face contorted with barely restrained fury. He knelt down to scoop up the hedge clippers, and went back to work. Satisfied, Xu stepped away in the opposite direction. She motioned for Quistis to follow after. Together, they paced for several yards until they were comfortably out of Seifer's earshot.
"I need you to do me a favor," the commandant finally said. "After dinner, he's supposed to be helping out the Garden Festival committee in the quad. There's an emergency meeting being called by the administration tonight. Some kind of joint venture between us and Galbadia Garden. Whatever it is, it's big, and I can't get out of it. I want you to check up on him, and make sure he doesn't get any ideas. I wouldn't have said anything if I'd known he had connections with that group. That was my mistake."
"Do you really think he'd-"
Quistis cut herself off mid-sentence; her mouth had been moving faster than her mind.
"Understood."
"I assume that 'someone important' was you?"
She stared across the table to Rinoa. The girl blushed, lowering her head back down to her tea.
"I… I wrote to him about our plans," she affirmed. "He's always been really supportive of us, ever since we met. He helped me get into the Garden to meet with Cid, and practically begged him to approve the contract. I could tell it was really important to him, too. He just wanted to help us take back this city. So, please… whatever happens after all this… don't think too badly of him."
Quistis was not convinced that Seifer's interest had been so selfless, nor did she believe it was the faction's mission that had concerned him. She opened her mouth to reply, when a sudden rap at the door stole away their collective attention.
"City patrol!" a muffled voice came from the other side. "Open up!"
"You just hold on a minute!" Agnes grouchily bellowed. She slowly hefted herself from the sofa, taking her time. "And keep your voice down! I've got two small children upstairs, so don't you do anything to frighten them!"
"Upstairs!" Colette frantically whispered to the five. "Hurry!"
They all carefully raised themselves from the table, and pushed the chairs back in as quietly as they could. Colette gathered three of the five tea cups, dumped their contents in the sink, and stored the evidence in the dishwasher. Selphie led the way to the staircase; her petite figure generated virtually no noise as she bounded up. Rinoa and Quistis followed in short order, with Zell and Squall bringing up the rear. The boys worked their way up the steps at a far more deliberate pace to minimize creaking.
The entire group made it onto the second-floor landing within 15 seconds, and took a right into a sparsely decorated bedroom. A large circular rug sat in the center beside a meager, twin-sized bed. Zell gently closed the door as Quistis and the remaining three sat themselves around its circumference. Agnes' heated exchange with the patrol downstairs began to fade away, moving out of the house and onto the front of the property. A set of hurried footsteps bolted up the stairs. Colette peeked her head through a beat later.
"I'll come tell you when the coast's clear," she quietly told them. "For now, just try not to make too much noise."
"Will she be okay?" Rinoa whispered.
"Absolutely. My mom's a tough old bird. Legend goes that back in the day, she took on Galbadia armed only with her strength, cooking, and beauty."
She dipped her head back into the hall, and shut the door again.
"The beauty part sure makes it sound like a legend," Selphie muttered.
"Man, for a moment there I thought we were screwed," Zell quietly moaned.
"Tell me about it. So, uh… Miss Trepe? Sorry, is it weird to call you that?"
"There's no need to stand on formalities, Selphie," she embarrassingly smiled back. "Just Quistis is fine."
"What about 'Quisty', then? That sounds a lot more fun!"
She grimaced at the childish nickname, recalling all the times Seifer had referred to as such over the years.
"Just Quistis is fine," she repeated, far more firmly.
"Okay, okay. But anyway, what happened next? I introduced Seifer to the festival committee at last week's meeting. We drafted up the blueprints for the stage setup, and were just about to start piecing it together. You're telling me he just didn't show up?"
"Nope. Though, for what it's worth, he did leave them with a couple of stand-ins…"
As opposed to the ballroom, which was expressly reserved for formal affairs, Balamb Garden's main quad acted as the primary hub for student-organized events. Plentiful greenery flourished the wide open-air expanse at its edges. A stage's massive steel frame stood erected by the far wall. Cadets and SeeDs alike swarmed about it, hauling all manner of sound and lighting equipment to their designated positions. Others had begun setting up the control consoles, their connecting cables wrapping all the way around to the stage's rear.
Quistis descended the steps from the entryway at her own pace; even from atop, picking out Seifer would be no easy task. As she neared the audio mixer, she caught sight of a familiar face; a young cadet with her hair tied up in a ponytail stood by it. She weaved her way through the crowd to meet her. The girl turned her head as she approached. Her face instantly lit up.
"Instructor!" she beamed.
"Not anymore, Lindsay," Quistis reminded her out of obligation.
For however much she wished she could informally keep the title among her closest students, it was simply not professional, and could easily be misconstrued as impersonation. It still pained her to accept. For Lindsay, a member of the 'Trepies', the disappointment was perhaps even comparable. Quistis' rapid advancement to instructor had made her something of a celebrity among the student body. It naturally hadn't taken long for her most ardent admirers to form their own unofficial fan club. Despite her own reservations, she still made it a point to stay on friendly terms with those members she knew.
"I know," Lindsay sighed. "But that's how we've all come to know you. It's just not right."
"It hasn't been an easy hurdle to get over," she admitted. "But I'm sure it's just a small setback on the road to better things. Anyway, have you seen Seifer? He's supposed to be assisting."
"Oh, yeah. His two friends said he couldn't make it. They're helping out in his place."
"What?!"
Quistis' heart leapt into her throat. She spun around, rapidly scanning her eyes over the sea of students. Within seconds, she spotted a flash of silver hair beside a tall mass of tanned muscles to the right of the stage.
"Is something wrong?" Lindsay asked innocently.
"Sorry," she apologized. "We'll catch up later!"
She tore across the quad, deftly careening around the students in her way. Her pace barely slowed as she drew closer to Raijin's bulky figure. The muscular young man carried a stage monitor over his shoulder. Fujin stayed at his side, keeping the attached wires from dragging along the ground.
"You two!" she called out. Both stopped in their tracks, and turned their heads to her. "What are you doing here? Where's Seifer?"
"He told us to take his shift here, y'know?" Raijin stated obliviously. "Think he was goin' to get a mop, or somethin'."
"Moron," Fujin spoke quietly. She averted her single eye from Quistis.
"What? Didn't he say he had a mess to go clean up?"
"Moron!"
Fujin abruptly kicked him in the shin. As the young man grunted in mild discomfort, Quistis spun on her heel. She darted for the staircase, taking the steps two at a time.
That reckless idiot is going to be the death of me!
"There was no time to wait for the meeting to adjourn. Every second wasted was only going to put him further out of reach, and increase the risk of him jeopardizing your mission. I took out a car from the garage, and raced into town as fast as I could. By the time I got there, the intercontinental line had already left. So, I commandeered an assault boat. I piloted it across the sea all night, down under the west end of the Horizon Bridge, around the cape, and anchored it in a small cove just off shore. I've been awake for well over 24 hours at this point, and I'm pretty sure the adrenaline is all that's keeping me going."
Her audience of four remained silent, their expressions each telling a story of their own. Selphie wore a wide-eyed stare; Rinoa, a look of dread; Zell, one of disbelief; and Squall, a completely blank stare trained to the carpet.
"I made my way on foot to the city gates. They only had a couple of guards on duty, nothing I couldn't manage. I snuck in, worked my way to the station, and waited for the train to arrive…"
The brakes of the intercontinental express screeched as it pulled into the terminal, rousing Quistis from her daze; she'd nearly dozed off against the concrete wall by the turnstiles. It had been a long and grueling voyage across the sea. The trip's total cost had amounted to 3,000 gil for the cheapest ticket into the station, an entire night's sleep, and what little peace of mind she'd managed to retain in the last week. Her brain was fried, her stomach empty. Her determination not to disappoint the commandant again was all that kept her functioning.
Pedestrians milled about the platform with their luggage, parting to either side as the train's doors opened. The stream of newly arrived passengers spilled out, and intermingled in short order. She scanned her eyes all along the platform's length. It was not long before the familiar grey coat popped into view, the young man wearing it aloof as she'd ever seen him. He sidestepped through the crowd with purpose. She moved from the wall to intercept him, preemptively engaging the sphere clipped to her belt.
Those bound for Balamb piled into the carriages, while the new arrivals formed a line to the security checkpoint. Quistis maneuvered herself around the tail end of the queue. She stepped directly into the path of the oncoming blonde, fashioning the most stern expression she could manage given her fatigue. Seifer stalled in his tracks. His eyes widened in alarm. An awkward pause lingered before that same familiar smirk overtook his face like clockwork.
"It would be you of all people they'd send," he spoke nonchalantly. "Or did you volunteer? Neither would surprise me."
"I came of my own accord," she told him. "The administration doesn't even know about this yet. So, I suggest you get back on that train quietly, and pray they don't have you expelled once we return."
"Interesting," he mused, not seeming fazed in the slightest. "So, you've abandoned your post to take matters into your own hands? My, doesn't that sound familiar. 'Do as I say, not as I do', is it?"
She had no response.
"What do you hope to accomplish here?" she impatiently changed the subject.
"What do you think? To keep my promise to those who depend on me. To help them fulfill their cause, and take a stand for something I believe in. That's why I'm here. It's a matter of honor."
"Honor? You're just an egomaniac who holds himself too highly."
"It's the truth," Seifer declared. He pointed his finger to her. "And what about you? Why take it upon yourself to come all this way? Why not leave it to someone else for a change? That's what I want to know. Why does it always have to be you?"
"Your meddling is liable to ruin Squall and the others' mission," she explained. "It's my duty as a professional and your superior to make sure you don't interfere with official SeeD business. Nothing more."
"That's a load of crap, and you know it!"
He thrust his arm into his jacket. It re-emerged with his gunblade. He pointed the weapon straight at her, holding it parallel to the ground.
"You think I haven't noticed? The way you always prop yourself up around me and Squall with that holier-than-thou attitude? Don't try to deny it. You've been at it since we were kids. Loving caretaker one minute, scolding nanny the next. Day in and day out, even when we're the same age! It's disgusting. That you have the gall to talk down to me like a misbehaving child. There's only one woman who has the right to speak to me like that, and you'll never be her, no matter how much you wish you could be."
A circle of onlookers had begun to form. The weapon aimed straight for Quistis' chest prompted an uneasy murmuring among them. It slowly dawned on her that resolving the confrontation without causing a scene would now be impossible.
"I'm sure Squall thinks the same," Seifer doubled down. "We're both grown men. We can look after ourselves without your constant nannying. And you wonder why you lost your license."
She lowered her eyes to the platform. An intense fury unlike any she'd ever felt began boiling up from the depths of her soul. She fought with all of her might to hold back the seething rage, but to no avail. Her hand moved to her whip's leather grip.
"I… I've had enough of you," she finally eked out. "I'm not your nanny… and I might not be your instructor any longer. But I'm a soldier, with a mission to fulfill, and a reputation to uphold."
She raised her eyes back up to meet Seifer's smirk. Her mind screamed with hatred as she uncoiled the whip with one hand.
"And for all your talk of being a man, you sure sound like a spoiled brat in need of a good lashing!"
In a flash, she cracked the whip on the platform's surface between them. The surrounding onlookers scattered in a frenzy, many dropping their luggage on the platform. Seifer's smirk faded away as he drew back his gunblade.
"This is your last chance!" she warned him over the erupting chaos. "You can either come back peacefully, or be dragged kicking and screaming like the angry little boy you are!"
"You'll regret that!" Seifer roared.
He charged forward. Quistis could have easily drawn her whip into both hands to parry the strike. Instead, she backpedaled out of its range. The audible detonation as it whizzed by assured her that she'd made the right call; sturdy as her whip's metal body was, a single pull of the gunblade's trigger would be liable to shear it clean in two. The moment he drew back for another attack, she went on the offensive. She launched into a flurry of swipes, the metal strap slamming into the concrete tiling with each blow.
Seifer backed off from the bludgeoning whirlwind. Formidable though he was in close-quarters combat, his one dimensional, brute force fighting style left him helpless at range. She precisely guided the spiked tip toward him with each strike. It took all he had to keep batting it away with the side of his blade. No matter his reflexes, Quistis' victory was assured so long as she maintained the distance between them. One misplaced step or mistimed evasion, and the battle would be over. She kept up the pressure, not letting him rest for a moment. She knew he'd tire out before long.
"Freeze!"
She stalled as she turned to face the gruff voice. A squad of Galbadian infantry closed in from the side, their drawn rifles swiveling between the two of them.
"Drop your weapons, now!" the soldier at the front demanded.
Quistis furrowed her eyes at the interruption, and quickly channeled her energy into a protective barrier. The troops opened fire the instant it shimmered before her. Their bullets bounced off harmlessly as she charged them. The spike at the end of the whip tore through uniform and flesh with ease; those who met the length of the lash were promptly toppled to the floor. As the last one slumped over onto an abandoned suitcase, a blur of grey bolted past her.
Seifer sprinted across the terminal through the ensuing pandemonium. He parkoured over the turnstiles with ease. Quistis quickly recoiled her whip, and bounded after him, hoping beyond hope she would be able to catch him before the situation spiraled even further out of control.
"So, that's why there were so many guards around the station today," Zell hummed.
"Starting a commotion like that wasn't ideal," Quistis acknowledged. "But he'd already drawn his weapon, and the attention of everyone else on the platform. There was no other option. I scoured the city for him, and eventually caught wind of the president coming in to make his broadcast at the TV station…"
"Ow!"
The howl echoed from around the corner up ahead. Quistis quickened her pace. The clacking of her boots reverberated through the narrow alley as she surmounted upturned gravel and piles of trash. She reached the end, and turned the corner. The side entrance to the looming TV station stood just beside. A young man with a blue bandanna and tan vest leaned next to the open doorway. He groaned in discomfort as she approached, clutching the side of his rib cage.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," he politely responded. He slid himself down the wall to sit on the pavement. "I'll be fine. Wish the guy who knocked me down was so considerate."
"Short blonde hair with a long grey coat?"
"You know him, ma'am? He shoved me to the ground and bolted on inside. I don't know what he's thinking. The security inside is bound to be tight with the president about to take the stage."
Quistis rushed through the doorway without another word. Seifer interfering with Squall and the others' mission would be disastrous enough. Openly assaulting a major world leader was on another level of irresponsibility altogether. Were his identity to be uncovered, the repercussions would be unfathomable; it could very well trigger a full-scale war between SeeD and Galbadia. No matter the risks, no matter how slim the odds, he had to be stopped.
She tore up the stairway at top speed, breaking stride only to maneuver herself around several fallen Galbadian soldiers along the way. The doorway on the third floor landing was propped open by one's body; a stream of crimson pooled on the floor from his gullet. She poked her head into the hallway, finding another strewn across the left hand side of the intersection. With a quick look in either direction, she stepped out of the stairwell and bolted down the hall.
It wasn't long before she came across yet another corpse, this time collapsed beside a door marked for maintenance staff. She stepped over, and ducked inside. A small storage room lay within, with a steel-runged ladder fixed to the wall. It led to an opening in the wall up above, from which she could faintly hear voices echoing down. She grabbed hold, and hauled herself up as fast as she could.
The low clearance gap at the top opened to a narrow, rusted metal catwalk. The scaffolding ran in a rectangle all across the ceiling of a spacious broadcast studio. Glaring spotlights were set at the front-most railing, all trained to the stage below. Seifer knelt by them. His eyes were fixed to the podium at the fore, now occupied by a blonde-haired announcer.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the world, President Deling!" he said, taking his bow.
On cue, the young assailant readied his gunblade; he emptied the magazine from the pistol-grip's bottom, drawing another from his coat pocket. The president took his place at the podium, adjusted himself slightly, and began his address. Quistis paid him little mind as she crept up on Seifer. She inched forward with care, putting the utmost delicacy into each step. Her heart pounded in her chest. If she could just knock him out, she could perhaps drag him out of the building before Deling finished his speech.
She flipped the whip's handle into a reverse-grip, forming a makeshift blackjack. Still, Seifer's focus stayed locked to the man below. Closer she crept, sidling her way along the catwalk. She moved in from the side, ready to strike, when Seifer's free arm suddenly lashed out like a viper. He caught hold of her wrist, yanking it upward. Quistis grit her teeth to resist crying out in alarm.
The force of the grapple toppled her over onto the catwalk. The metal scaffolding rumbled underneath her. She could hear the president cut off his address as Seifer bore down on her with his weapon. All went silent. Her heart skipped a beat. It picked up again in time with Deling a moment later. She stared into the young man's hate-filled eyes as the blade began to lower across her neck. She brought up the whip's handle with her free arm; the blade pressed into it in the palm of her hand, exerting pressure to pin her down.
"Stay out of this!" he furiously whispered. "This is my moment of glory! The moment I become a hero!"
"You're no hero," Quistis menaced back. She began pumping energy into her hand as quickly as she could. "I told you before, you're just a reckless fool looking for a fight. If only you could have taken that one lesson away from me."
Seifer had noticed the energy beginning to charge up in her palm. He released her, and backpedaled out of the way. A pair of raucous metal screeches followed, breaking Quistis' concentration. To her horror, she felt the surface of the catwalk begin to dip beneath her. She rolled across to the other side and turned to look back. He'd sliced clean through the scaffolding's support beams, one after another. The section of grated flooring creaked sickeningly before snapping off altogether. It fell to the stage below with a thunderous crash, destroying the podium Deling had just been standing at.
Not wasting a moment of the studio crew's stunned silence, Seifer leapt down. He landed hard on top of the debris before charging to the rear. Quistis looked on in shock as the president was wrangled from the curtains. She had failed. The situation had escalated well beyond her ability to influence. Her only hope now lay with the three SeeDs stationed elsewhere in the city. With a heavy heart, and even heavier weight on her conscience, she unfurled her whip, and descended into the fray.
"I tried my hardest. I really did, but… I can't stop thinking about it. That maybe if I'd been just a little quicker, or handled things differently…"
She stared down at the rug they sat around, pleading with herself to maintain her composure.
"Maybe I am a failure, after all," she whispered in shame.
"It's not your fault."
Quistis abruptly raised her head, hoping the voice's distinct timbre hadn't deceived her. Squall lifted his eyes from the rug. They peered into her own with what seemed to be, unbelievably, a look of sympathy.
"You did everything you could. But whenever he sets his mind to something, it's impossible to talk him out of it. I know that better than anyone. If it were me, I probably couldn't have stopped him either. So, don't take it personally."
She could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, so considerate they were. His attitude was a far cry from the way he'd acted the night of the ball, regardless of his matter-of-fact tone. Deny it as he might, there was clearly more to him than the uncaring husk he made himself out to be. With a sidelong glance to Zell, she could see she was not alone.
"I won't pretend to know everything that goes on in his head," Squall continued. "But he's always operated by his own code. There was nothing that could have stopped him. Nothing except… the sorceress."
Quistis felt her skin crawl. The image of the slender, masked woman was still burned into her retinas. She'd studied the legends of Hyne, fabled creator of all mankind, and the women said to bear his magical gift. Never could she have imagined the myth to actually hold credence. She would have much rather believed it to be a hallucination brought on by her lack of sleep.
"What's going to happen to him?" Rinoa weakly mewled.
"He may already be dead," Squall bluntly answered.
"That's…!"
She jerked her head up, barely managing to hold back her anger. She continued in a harsh whisper.
"That's terrible! Why would you say that?!"
"Because it's the only logical outcome. That magic we saw her perform was far beyond anything a SeeD could do. If it came down to combat, he'd have no chance."
"Even so, I can still hope he's alive!"
"Hope all you want, but reality isn't so kind. Things don't always work out the way you want them to. That's why, as long as you keep your expectations grounded, you can take anything."
And he's back…
Rinoa stared irritably at him. She opened her mouth to fire back, when footsteps started up the stairs outside. The bedroom door creaked open moments later. Agnes stood in the frame.
"We've just gotten word that the extra battalions are withdrawing," the old woman said. "Only the soldiers normally stationed here will stay on duty. If you're gonna leave town, now's your best chance. You know how persistent they can be."
"Any chance we can get to your boat, Instructor?" Zell asked.
"I highly doubt it," Quistis said. "We can't just walk right out the front gate. They're bound to have extra security. Seems like our only option out of here is by train."
"Sorry to impose, ma'am," Selphie started. "But could we stay a little longer until the intercontinental line comes back tonight?"
"No can do, hun," Agnes shook her head. "I told those soldiers where they could take it, but they'll be back with a warrant. Colette's just gone to pull the kids out of school, so we've got a consistent story. If you're gonna leave, it's got to be now."
"So, what's the plan, Mr. Leader?" Rinoa directed her ire at Squall. She rose to her feet and stretched. "Is there a safe place you can take me? This is an order. An order from your client, remember?"
Squall's eyes furrowed in frustration at the jab. Quistis already knew the exact procedure they were to follow in such a scenario.
"Garden Code, Article 8, Line 7," she recited, hoping it would jog his memory.
She'd already memorized the passage in question: 'In the event that returning to the assigned Garden is not possible, report to the nearest Garden'. Even now, the months she'd spent studying for her instructor's certification continued to pay off.
"So, we head for Galbadia Garden?" he replied.
"Precisely. I've been there several times. I should be able to explain our situation to them."
"Then let's get going!" Rinoa declared. "The line bound for Dollet stops just east of there. It's almost noon, so we should make it if we hurry!"
The others all rose to their feet, thanking their host as they filed out of the bedroom and back down the stairs. Zell cracked the front door open to check for patrols. Quistis turned back once more to Agnes by the base of the stairs, bowing in appreciation of her goodwill.
"Just take good care of Rinoa, you hear?" she smiled back. "You've got guts, young lady. So, keep your head held high."
"Yes, ma'am," she replied. The words of encouragement warmed her heart as she stepped out after her compatriots onto the cobbled road.
Rinoa took the lead as they forged their way through the midday streets. They stuck to the back roads when possible, keeping a constant eye out for approaching soldiers. Though only Quistis had been caught on the broadcast, it stood to reason that the station's security camera footage had been reviewed and disseminated among the patrols. Selphie concealed her bulky nunchaku in the back of her yellow outfit. Squall had only the cover of his comrades to keep his sheathed gunblade from sight.
The walkways were sparsely frequented compared to when Quistis had arrived that morning. The crowds began to thicken only as they came to the local continental terminals, situated further down the station's length from the Timber – Balamb line. From their vantage point opposite the arched entryway, Quistis could see the train sitting idly at the platform. Swarms of passengers were already boarding.
"Psst!"
She turned her head towards the whisper. A young man with a goatee stood in the shadows of the adjacent alley. He stepped out to meet them, his frantic eyes focused squarely on Rinoa.
"Zone!" the girl lit up. She rushed over to him, and wrapped him in a tight hug. "Is everyone alright? Have you bumped into Watts?"
"Yeah, most of us managed to get out," he assured her. "They're regrouping at the Aphorora. I figured you'd all be leaving town. I knew it'd kill you to come all this way just to find out the tickets were sold out."
"Are you serious?!" Selphie moaned.
"We'll do whatever it takes to get on that train," Squall declared.
"R-relax!" Zone assured him. He held up his right hand and rummaged through his pocket with his left. "I planned ahead and bought five, right here."
He withdrew his hand from his baggy blue pants, and fanned out a set of ticket stubs to them.
"Zone, you're a lifesaver!" Rinoa exclaimed. She practically yanked the slips from his hand.
"No problem. One for you, three for the SeeDs… and the last one was gonna be for me, but…"
The man turned his eyes to Quistis, a mix of sadness and obligation coming over him as he looked her up and down.
"Watts told me about you, and what happened in the studio. He wanted me to thank you for all your help. The last ticket's yours."
"I can't take that!" she insisted.
She knew the immense guilt she'd feel leaving this poor young man stranded, especially after he'd gone to such lengths for them. No matter how incessantly her mind screamed at her to take the offer, her conscience would not let her.
"Ow!" Zone suddenly doubled over; he clutched at his midriff as he fell to one knee. "My stomach!"
The cry sounded forced; he was clearly putting on a performance. Squall snorted in derision as he turned his head away. Rinoa knelt by her friend's side, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Thank you, Zone," she gave him another hug. "We'll see each other again, okay? We're all gonna make it out of this mess, and liberate Timber together. I promise."
"I know," he replied, still faking the stomach pains. "Now get going. The train's about to leave!"
Rinoa released her grip, rose to her feet, and started across the plaza to the Timber – Dollet line. The rest of the group followed after. Quistis stayed a moment longer, her eyes unmoving from the hunched-over young man.
"Why?" she asked incredulously.
"Because it's the right thing to do," he smiled back. He finally gave up the charade, and straightened himself out. "The honorable thing to do."
"Honor," she muttered.
She understood now just what a powerful force it was. It had impelled a self-serving delinquent to take a stand for something bigger than himself; a disgraced instructor who'd always lived her life by the rules to pursue him far across the sea; and now, a young man to give up his only passage out of the city to a complete stranger. A faint smile crossed her lips. Her fatigued and conflicted mind finally felt at peace.
"Thank you," she softly spoke, turning at last to follow after her comrades.