Futureloop
Chapter Six - Back to Reality
By Devi Dee
Futureloop
Chapter Six - Back to Reality
By Devi Dee
He woke up in a strange bed under glaring lights with a pounding headache and instantly began to panic. The feeling only increased when he realised he couldn’t move his limbs; not because they were strapped down, but because the messages from his brain were getting bypassed somehow. Vague memories began to flicker back, before being chased away by a pair of steely-blue eyes and an almost whispered command.
(I’ve come to take you home.)
Is that where he was, home? Where was home anyway. He hadn’t had a real one in a long time. Not since...
Not since...
Seifer’s eyes adjusted themselves blearily, finally focusing up at the harsh fluorescent light above him. He remembered that light, remembered it from all the times he’d wound up in this bed, the same immobility spreading through his limbs as the sedatives wore off. Condensed Sleep in a pill; he wondered how long he’d been out. Probably a while; he really needed to piss.
So. Balamb Garden. Not in a million alcohol-soaked years had he ever expected to come back, yet here he was. Home, right?
He swung his legs lethargically over the side of the bed, earning a serious headspin for his efforts. Squall had messed him up badly this time. Either the young Commander was getting good, or he was getting sloppy. Neither prospect sounded particularly appealing. A thought twanged through the back of his mind, a brief flash of dream before unconsciousness. His head resting peacefully on leather-clad thighs, fingers caressing his face and a flash of emotion, warm and accepting, bringing depth to normally soulless eyes.
(next time)
A comforting fantasy, and one he could ponder the truth of later. But for now, nature called.
Doctor Kadowaki caught him on his way back to his Infirmary room, clad only in boxer-shorts and slowly-healing bruises. Seifer couldn’t help but smile as she angrily chased him back to bed; he supposed some things never changed. Arguing didn’t work, so he lay back down obligingly, and was brought a bowl of ice-cream for his trouble. He could barely remember the last time he’d been given ice-cream, but suspected it was probably the last time he had wound up in here.
He was sitting cross-legged in bed, sheets rumpled around his waist, licking the bottom of the bowl when a sour-faced SeeD came to see him; Garden Security by his uniform. Well, Seifer was still more-or-less considered highly-dangerous - even if the former Sorceress’ Knight looked slightly less than so half-naked with a blob of chocolate ice-cream adorning the end of his nose.
"You’re awake," stated the sour-faced SeeD. Seifer suspected he really meant ‘alive’, and didn’t sound particularly enthused about it.
"No shit," ice-cream was making him feel cocky. He licked the blob off his nose. "I’ve got blonde hair, too. Wanna make any more self-evident statements?"
The SeeD scowled even deeper, a gesture which made him look more ridiculous than anything.
"So what’re you supposed to be? Like, my ‘guard’ or somethin’?"
"Yes."
Seifer grinned evilly, watching the nervous look his so-called guard gave him. "You and what army?"
"You’re in the middle of Balamb Garden, do you really think you could get away with anything if you tried?"
"Hell yes; I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. You pansies are so fuckin’ scared of me you’d rather shit yourselves than fight." This he was not so sure of, but at the moment his mouth seemed to be running on a separate track than his common-sense, which was beginning to go into convulsions.
"You sound very certain."
Seifer shrugged. "Anyway, they don’t seem to be very keen on ‘guarding’ me if you’re the only person stationed here; and I’m guessin’ Leonhart’s only put you here under duress."
"What makes you think that?"
"A number of things. The fact that you’re obviously an idiot underling. The fact that Leonhart was the one to come and get me. But mostly the fact that my gunblade’s sittin’ over there in the corner. Now I know a few things about how to treat prisoners -" something inside him churned, but he ignored it "- and one of the things I do know is that you generally don’t leave ‘em armed."
"Think whatever you will, but I’m sure the Commander has... plans for you."
It was meant as a threat, but Seifer’s mind went into overdrive at the mention of ‘plans’, and none of the things he envisioned were particularly unpleasant.
(next time)
He licked his lips. "I look forward to it." He set aside his bowl and stood up, stretching lazily, not seeming to mind that he was more-or-less naked. He was a lot bigger than his would-be guard, and he was going to use it to his advantage, because if there was one thing Seifer knew how to do, it was be intimidating. His eyes fell on a pile of clean clothes and he began pulling them on. The guard watched him tersely.
"What do you think you’re doing?"
"Sneakin’ out before Doctor K gets back and has me laid up here for another two months. I’m gonna go stir-crazy, so I figured I’d go make my presence known to Leonhart."
The Seed sneered. "While you are here you will refer to him as ‘Commander’."
"Like fuck I will. I ain’t gonna call someone I used to tease for wetting the bed ‘Commander’." Seifer emerged from the inside of his t-shirt to see the confused look on the boy’s face. "How old’re you?"
"Why?"
"Why’re you so belligerent? How old?"
"Sixteen."
"Well, kid, I’ve known Leonhart longer’n you’ve been alive; so don’t assume to tell me what I should call him. I’ll call him Snuggle-Puss if I damn well feel like it, and he’ll just stare at me and say ‘...Whatever’ ‘cause that’s just the way things are. War or no damn War." This, at least, was true. It was why Squall had brought him back, after all. Seifer plopped back down on the bed to pull on a pair of well-worn combat boots. "Stole these from the Galbadian Army," he commented airily. It was strange to have someone to talk to after all this time, and he hadn’t quite realised how much he’d missed it. "Thought they were cool; you can’t buy ‘em anywhere. Army issue only." He finished doing up the buckles and stood, grinning at the SeeD again. "Perks of tryin’ to take over the world, I guess."
He registered the confused expression on the boy’s face. Obviously he had not expected his first contact with the infamous Sorceress Knight to be anything like this. Seifer picked up his gunblade from the corner of the room and gave it a few experimental swings before slinging it over his shoulder.
"Comin’?" he asked.
"What?"
"You’re supposed to be my guard, ain’t’cha? Well, I’m escapin’ so c’mon; guard me." He brushed past and loped quickly out of the Infirmary before Kadowaki caught him. In his entire life there were - with the exception of the War - only two people he’d ever taken any orders from; Matron and the good Doctor Kadowaki. Both of them cared for him, loved him even, and he respected that. Besides which, Doctor K’s bedside manner tended to be variant - a few painful shots when he’d first come to Garden had quickly taught Seifer that it was always best to be in her good books.
It felt strange to be walking around the place again, the feeling driving home with full force when he finally stepped out into the large promenade. For a moment, he just stopped and stared, taking in every familiar surface. He could see a few patches where repairs had been done,
(your fault, you realise)
cracks filled, glass replaced. There were also a few more pot plants, but other than that, it was Garden. Totally and utterly.
He exhaled in awe. "Fuck," he muttered. "I am home."
His companion snorted. "I doubt you’ll be staying long. The Commander’s already getting demands from various governments to hand you over."
"Professional immunity," Seifer muttered before realising it.
"Huh?"
Well, he’d said it now, so he may as well elaborate. "He’ll keep me here, citing professional immunity. Garden’s a supposedly-neutral business venture; not a country. So long as I’m here and not causing any trouble, everyone else can moan and groan as much as they want to, but they can’t lift a finger about it. SeeD is employed in all sorts of different wars on all sides; if countries started demanding the handover of everyone who was on the opposing side we’d have nobody left. Obviously the Garden’s got rules about it."
"W- what makes you so sure?"
Seifer snorted. "I dunno what they told you about me, but I have failed this course more times than anyone else alive. All the theory-stuff I know by now; I bet I know more about this place’s rules than anyone else here." He began to head for the elevator. "Plus, I know Squall Leonhart. He wouldn’t’ve dragged me outta exile if he knew he couldn’t keep me. Despite what you lot may think, he doesn’t blame me for anything. Way he sees it, I was just doin’ what I’ve been trained to do my whole life."
The young SeeD looked outraged. Seifer figured he must have been still a student when the War broke, and doubted he’d had any real first-hand experience with it, except maybe during the
(my)
attack by Galbadia Garden. Like the rest of them, he only knew the figure he revered as the Commander; unaware of the man behind that carefully crafted façade. Well, Seifer was good with façades; especially Squall’s. He also realised that he would have to tread carefully, obviously there were some things he was expected to say - simply because of who he was - but there was also a reason Squall hid behind his Commander role, and Seifer would have to make sure that anything he said would only strengthen that position. He reminded himself that he was still the antagonist here, and that he’d better continue to act like it.
There weren’t many students out at this time of day - classes, perhaps, or maybe lunchtime - but the ones that were all treated him accordingly; baleful stares and hushed whispers. But there was one thing he did notice; he made them uncomfortable. Very, very uncomfortable, even from such a distance and in these bright, peaceful surrounds. They could sense him, sense there was somehow something off about him. Seifer had been hoping maybe it had faded after so long - Squall certainly hadn’t seemed to notice - but that was obviously a little too much to ask. He decided to leave it for three am, when he couldn’t sleep and needed something to mull over as he lay alone in bed. A good time for introspection; especially about immutable things like this.
They were alone in the elevator, which made Seifer feel slightly better. People were reacting badly to him out in the open; they’d be infinitely worse if they had to spend a few minutes with him an enclosed space. His young guard looked edgy but all Seifer’s talking had apparently put him at ease somewhat, which was a good sign. He still obviously considered Seifer dangerous, but not imminently so. Even still, it surprised Seifer when he struck up conversation again.
"You know, you aren’t what I was expecting."
"From you, I take this as a compliment. I think."
"I mean, we hear lots of crazy stories and stuff, but you seem kinda... I dunno... Not like the rabid, sadistic maniac you hear about."
Seifer snorted. "I am both a maniac and sadistic," he said, slightly sadly. "Though I’m fairly sure I don’t have rabies. I figure Doctor K woulda told me if I did."
The elevator pinged before he could get a reply, and he walked out into the office. It occurred to him he hadn’t been here in a while; mostly because there was now a giant metal steering column sticking right through the middle of the room.
A sharp-looking secretary stood up as they entered. "You can’t come in here!"
"Sure I can," Seifer grinned at her and she faltered.
"Uh... Then I’ll... just tell the Commander you’re awake, shall I?"
"Don’t bother," said Seifer, catching sight of a large ornate door with the word ‘Commander’ emblazoned across it. He steeled himself mentally, threw it open boldly, and walked in.
I never realised how much paperwork it took to run a Garden. As Commander this wasn’t my department - I was just around to bark orders in wartime - but as acting Headmaster, it was. Cid had gone on an indefinite holiday six months ago with Matron, citing that they had a lifetime of things to catch up on. I wished them well and threw myself into my new and un-asked for duties, at first mostly as an excuse to avoid all the parties and clubs Rinoa seemed to take almost perverse delight in dragging me to. Eventually I discovered that I quite enjoyed the work. Filing forms was far less stressful than making spur-of-the-moment decisions in battle, and it also meant that people left you alone.
Well, mostly.
"... and you should have seen the dress she was wearing, Squall. You would have died! Hanging out all over the place like some kind of cheap tart, and she had, like, all these rolls of fat bulging out around the straps and, uurrggh! It was so icky. So then I said ..."
Rinoa had perched daintily on the edge of my desk, after pushing aside carefully stacked piles of paper to clear herself room. She was nibbling rice crackers - she was, apparently, on a ‘diet’ - and a wide blanket of crumbs had accumulated around her on the table. I’d have to clean them up before the rats found them. Again.
I knew why she was here, even if she didn’t come out and openly say it. She was worried about Seifer’s return, and worried about me for bringing him. She’d tried scolding me for it but I’d simply brushed her off, telling her I was a big boy now and could make my own damn decisions. He made her nervous, she said. Gave off bad vibes. Would only bring trouble. Blah blah blah. I remember not so long ago she had gone giggly at the mere mention of him. What short memories we have.
She was ‘worried’ that we’d start fighting again - of course we would, that was the point, wasn’t it? But Rinoa would never understand that, and I wasn’t about to enlighten her. To her, this would be deemed ‘anti-social’ and she’d redouble her efforts to breed it out of me, never once listening to my protests that I didn’t want to bred out. I liked fighting with Seifer, I told her. Don’t be stupid, Squally-poo, he’s a big meanie; better he be dead. I almost hit her - I really did - but I couldn’t, because I felt sorry for her in a way. The road to Hell really is paved with good intentions. But I still wished for divine intervention to get her the hell out of my office when I was trying to work.
Someone must have been listening, because at that moment the door burst open violently and my very own piece of deus ex machina stormed in, grinning wickedly.
"Seifer!" Rinoa almost squealed, leaping off the edge of the desk, sending papers and crumbs flying everywhere. I groaned, but she didn’t hear me, instead trying to back away and hide behind my large leather chair. "Ohmigawd, Squall!" she hissed, frantically tugging at my sleeve. "Do something. Get him out of here..."
I sighed, and my gaze locked with glittering blue-green eyes, a brief thrill passing through me as I found a playful understanding there. Seifer wanted to have some fun with his ex-girlfriend, but he was asking my permission first. I nodded, ever so slightly, and he launched into a full-on attack.
"Rinoa, honey, baby, don’t you have a kiss for your old Seifie?" he leant forward across my desk, knuckles resting on the wooden surface, so he was only inches away from her frightened face. I noticed that despite his aggressive demeanour, he didn’t disturb so much as a scrap of paper.
"Squall..." Rinoa was frantic, frightened. Why? It was Seifer, for Hynesake. But, of course, that was the nub of the problem.
"Seifer," I growled and he met my gaze, gauging my intent.
Finding something he liked, he leant back and shrugged in that way he has; that dismissive, ‘well, I tried’ gesture. "Geesh, don’t we get cold quickly. Last time I remember you were gushin’ all over me, now your welcome’s makin’ Leonhart here look positively blamy." My thoughts exactly, but I wasn’t about to say so.
"What do you want?" she spat at him finally. Her hands had started to tremble where they gripped my arm desperately. I would have to break this up soon.
"Dunno, really. I wasn’t the one who brought me here, so I was hopin’ your sweet little honey-bunch could fill me in as to what he’s doin’ disturbin’ my retirement."
Rinoa’s grip tightened, and I wondered how much longer it was before she began cutting off the blood flow.
"Rinoa, settle down. Seifer, back in your box." I sounded tired, frustrated. I turned to my girlfriend, "I need to talk to him. Stop being juvenile."
Seifer gave a low chuckle at that; god but it made him sound sexy.
"Juvenile! Squall! He tried to kill me."
Seifer scoffed. "Did not. I was just tryin’ to help you achieve your true potential as a Sorceress," he made a big, airy gesture with his gunblade. "As is my duty as Sorceress’ Knight."
Rinoa glared at him. "You’re not my Knight," she held me closer, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind who she meant. I resisted the urge to groan in embarrassment.
"Now you’re just into semantics; the principle’s the same."
I knew for a fact that she had no clue what the word ‘semantics’ meant; hell, I barely did. Seifer was a lot more intelligent than he let on, and he knew how to use this to his advantage.
"Rinoa, go," I told her curtly before Seifer could bring out any more big words.
She looked at me, the door, and Seifer who stood between them.
"Oh for Hyne’s sake; he isn’t going to bite you." I wasn’t about to order Seifer out of the way, or escort her to the door. She was going to have to get used to seeing him around sooner or later.
To prove me wrong, he made a small biting gesture at her when she hurried past, receiving a whimper for his efforts. When she’d gone, I sighed. "That was uncalled for."
"You didn’t seem too intent on stopping me." He was keeping the ‘g’s on the ends of his words. Interesting.
"..."
"Don’t tell me you enjoy watching your dearly beloved scared shitless," he smirked, pulling up a chair and flopping down into it tiredly. He could switch personas so quickly, it was unnerving. One moment he was the rabid, egomaniacal Knight, the next the defeated, vulnerable boy. I began wondering if he had some kind of imbalance.
"Not really."
("She’s going to have to get used to you sooner or later.")
"It’s going to be like that with everyone, you know," he sounded strange. Flat, perhaps. Defeated.
("People are sheep. They’ll get over it eventually.")
He leant his head back, closing his eyes. "So..." he finally said.
"So?"
"What’s going to happen to me?"
Ah, that. "I’ll reenrol you in classes, have your stuff moved back into a dorm, get you settled back in."
"People won’t like it."
"Fuck them."
He sighed. "You really don’t get it, do you?"
("...Whatever.")
"No, not ‘whatever’: People. Won’t. Like it. It’s going to be hard, Squall. Forget that I tried to implode time; I attacked Garden. Not just this one, but Trabia, Matron’s white ship... even Galbadia’s in shambles. Or was, I dunno. It’s not important. What is important is that I fucked with the family. It’s not exactly a forgive-and-forget thing."
"So you won’t stay then?"
There was a long pause, then he sighed again. "No. I’ll stay. What other choice do I have?"
We just sat there in silence for a while. It was a nice feeling. With Rinoa it was always a mile a minute, and even Zell seemed to be constantly on a caffeine high - though he at least appreciated a good, long silence. Sitting here, just being, was nice. I could get used to just being.
("Seifer, I missed you. I’m glad you’re back; please don’t leave me again.")
Some things I just couldn’t say. Didn’t even know how to. Didn’t have to, and it was the latter part that was the most comforting.
Before I really registered it, I had risen, walking around the desk to stand in front of him. He didn’t open his eyes until he felt my weight settle into his lap, arms wrapping around his sides.
"Don’t get any ideas," I told him. I think he was surprised, but I wasn’t sure. This wasn’t the way we usually played, when I never made the first move. But right now, I wasn’t playing.
For the first time in forever his embrace was hesitant, uncertain. I realised that he was still badly injured, and so not exactly keen on off setting my emotional self-defence mechanisms again. I just curled up tighter around him, nuzzling my face into his neck, accepting of his small advances. Fuck emotional distance; I was a big boy now, and this was... nice. There really wasn’t any other way to describe it. The embrace was beyond friendship, not quite sexual, extremely comforting and just... nice. I could get used to this too, I realised.
I don’t know how long we stayed there, or how long we would have had the intercom not began buzzing angrily. I broke the embrace to flip it on, though I didn’t quite go so far as to get out of Seifer’s lap.
"What?"
"Commander? Are you okay? Is, uh, Mister Almasy still with you?" It was my secretary. I never could remember her name.
"Yes and yes."
"Oh. Well then, Captain Dincht is here to collect him."
"Okay." I switched the intercom off, settling back down onto Seifer’s shoulder.
"Uh, not that I’m being unappreciative, but shouldn’t you get off?"
"It’s only Zell."
"Oh. Okay." His voice had a strange texture to it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was pleased.
The door banged open and shut and the room’s energy level instantly went through the roof. I swear, if you hooked electrodes up to Zell you could power a small town. I watched him bound in over Seifer’s shoulder, saw his huge grin when he saw us. He didn’t say anything, but he seemed to approve.
"Man, Seifer, you’ve been back for like five seconds and already you’re harassing the staff and causing general mayhem," he said when he’d bounded into our vision.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Well, this idiot here scared off the last guy I sent."
"You sent?" Seifer raised an eyebrow quizzically.
"Zell’s head of Garden Security."
"No shit. Well you suck, Chicken Wuss. All my efforts and I only get one pissy little guard? Kids who come here on excursion get watched more than that."
"That’s ‘cause they break shit and run around like maniacs," Zell grinned, apparently unphased by, once again, being called Chicken Wuss. "You, on the other hand, are a guy who’s just gotten up from a three-day coma. One shot of Sleep or Stop and you’d drop like a stone. All I needed was one pissy little guard, dude. One pissy little guard who happens to be a specialist in status-altering magic."
"I’m impressed, Chicken," he said, and actually sounded sincere.
"’Course you are. I rock! Yeah!" Zell did his little victory-dance thing. "Anyway, I was supposed to be takin’ this burden on my time to his dorm."
Seifer snorted. "I’m not a retard. I did live here for most of my life, so I think I can find my room."
"Whatever, but that’s totally not the point. The point is that you need an escort else we’re gonna start gettin’ student riots, so if you can stop molestin’ Squall for a while I can get my job done and actually get some hot dogs before they sell out."
I took this as my queue to get off, feeling a slight twinge of sadness as I did so. It was cold standing by myself again; Seifer gave off a lot of heat. He rose with a grunt, shooting me a quick glance. The expression there was strange, sad maybe, regretful? I wasn’t sure.
"Excellent, well, let’s go sunshine." Zell began bounding around Seifer, harrying him out the door. He turned to me before leaving. "And you will be coming down to join us for dinner, yeah? Otherwise we’re all gonna come up here and make you eat something. Again."
I held up my hands, giving in. It was true; I had been keeping bad eating habits. Mostly it was just to avoid the crowds in the cafeteria. I usually didn’t mind bar the fact that Rinoa was constantly trying to get me to ‘socialise with the student body’. I didn’t know why; the very phrase made my stomach turn.
I watched them leave, before sitting back down in my chair, busying myself cleaning up the maelstrom of displaced papers and crumbs left there. Then I picked up a wad of paper and settled down to read. Bureaucracy, after all, waits for no man.
"Fuckin’ hell, just bein’ on the same planet as you makes me tired."
Zell grinned. "Hot dogs, man," he said. "Hot dogs and caffeine give me the energy to live!"
"You sure it’s just caffeine, Chicken? I don’t think our dear Commander’ll be very happy when he catches you with a nose full’a dust..."
Zell lifted up his jumper, showing Seifer the t-shirt underneath.
"’I’m not on drugs; I was just born this way’?" Seifer read.
"Birthday present. Payback for gettin’ Squall that ‘Warning: Does Not Play Well With Others’ shirt."
"I’m glad you can be so candid about your personality defects."
The elevator binged and they stepped inside. "We’re workin’ our way through the whole group. Damn, I guess that means we’ll have to get one for you too now, hey?"
Seifer groaned, thinking that the last thing he needed was a t-shirt covered with Zell-brand humour. Before Zell could start sprouting slogans about world domination, he decided to change topic, switching to offensive. "So what made ‘em think putting Cry-baby Zell in charge of Security was a good idea?"
"’Cause I’m good at it, stupid," Zell poked his tongue out at the taller blonde as they stepped out of the lift. "And don’t even try; it won’t work anymore."
"Try what?"
"Rilin’ me up, man. Call me whatever the hell you want, but I know you still lur-rve me," he attached himself around Seifer’s waist in a crippling embrace. Despite their obvious size difference, Zell was stronger than Seifer, which meant there was no way he could wiggle out of the embrace by force.
It didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try. "Ack! Gerrof!" He was aware of the odd looks they were getting from the passing students and was suddenly grateful for the small martial artist’s attentions. If the head of Security didn’t think of him as a threat, the students would eventually catch on. He hoped.
Zell shrieked with laughter as Seifer’s hands began tickling his sides. "Hey, no fair!" he exclaimed, leaping out of his tormentor’s reach.
"Yeah, well. You asked for it, Chicken. And I don’t ‘lurve’ you; except oven roasted and surrounded by potatoes."
"Hah hah. You wanna eat me you gotta catch me first, fatty." He poked Seifer’s stomach. "Too much exile makes Seifie unfit."
Seifer growled lowly, though Zell was right; he really wasn’t in very good shape. Well, relatively for him, anyway. The bruises left by Squall were testament to that.
They walked in silence for a bit. Eventually, Zell said, "You know, I never used to get you, but you’re really not so much of an enigma as you like to pretend you are."
"Oh? Pray do divulge the inner secrets of my soul to me then, master."
Zell snickered. "’Master’ now, ey?"
Showing considerable restraint, Seifer just rolled his eyes. It probably wasn’t such a good idea to pick fights with the head of security, even if he was an idiot...
Zell continued. "It’s like with Squall, right? People just don’t get Squall, they think he’s antisocial and doesn’t say much and stuff. But Squall is, like, the most talkative guy I’ve ever run into, he’s always got some speech churnin’ round in his head, he just doesn’t say it out loud. You gotta know how to listen to the things Squall doesn’t say, rather than the things he does. It took me ages to work it out, but I figure you’ve known all along, hey?"
"Good detective work, Chicken. When’dja figure all this out?"
"Some time between whippin’ your ass and gettin’ stuck in Time Compression."
"Huh. Life-or-Death situations; gotta love ‘em. So what’s this got to do with me callin’ you ‘Chicken Wuss’, Chicken Wuss?"
"Simple. You and Squall are like, evil twins or something, so what applies to him applies to you. ‘Cept where he says nothing and ignores people, you run your mouth and beat them up."
"And you know this for a fact, do you?"
Zell just grinned. "I’m not as dumb as you pretend to be."
"That’s yet to be seen," Seifer smirked, but there was something behind it. A connection, of sorts, and suddenly Seifer could understand why Squall liked the hyperactive boy so much.
They reached the dorm block halfway through an argument about something they’d done when they were little and Zell lead him up the flights of stairs onto the staff level.
"I know I deserve it, but why up here?" Seifer asked as they walked down the lush corridors. It occurred to him that he’d never really been up here, except maybe to cause trouble.
"’Cause this is where we are. Partly to keep you out of the rest of the students’ rooms for now, and partly ‘cause you’ll be close to Squall," Zell wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. "You know, not even Rinoa has rooms up here."
Seifer’s stomach turned over in a not entirely unpleasant way. He buried it, instead etching his face into a sneer. "Hyne on a pyre, what the fuck has Leonhart been tellin’ you?"
"Zip all, as usual. But I infer things, remember?"
"And just what, exactly, did you ‘infer’?"
Zell pulled a pass-key out of his pocket and tossed it to Seifer. "That fighting isn’t the only physical thing you and our dear Commander get up to. I’m still working out the details, though," he grinned lecherously, brandishing altogether too-sharp canines. "But I ain’t blind, I see the way Squall gets all googly when your name comes up. There ain’t many things he gets googly over, so it’s probably good that he’s got one so close." Zell spun on his heel and began sauntering off down the corridor. "The only folks in this wing are the rest of the gang, so you’ll be cool. Get settled in - we’ve already moved up all your stuff. Dinner’s at the usual time, but I guess you know the drill, hey? See ya round." He waved airily over his shoulder.
Seifer watched him go before turning his attention to the key in his hand. It looked like it had some serious high-level access attached to it; a staff key. He felt vaguely strange knowing what it inferred - after all, technically he wasn’t even a student here anymore - and slightly irked at the same time. Squall must have pulled some serious strings, he realised, to get all this together, but why? Why bother?
(Why do people buy diamond collars for their dogs? Because you’re his latest little treasure and he wants to spoil you. Leave you indebted to him so you can’t pull out again; can’t leave him alone. His fear of whatever people might read into him doing these things is far worse than his fear of being alone again.)
He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind, instead swiping his card against the lock and pushing the door open. He gasped a little at the room beyond; considering what he was used to, it was big. And it had a double bed.
(fighting isn’t the only physical thing you and our dear Commander get up to)
He repressed a small shudder, suddenly wishing that he was back in Centra drowning his life away in the bottom of a bottle, only the cockroaches to keep him company. It dawned on him that he was in way over his head. Again. Was he so easy to lead around? It had been the same before, as well, with Ultimecia. All she had to do was dangle a few promises of love and power in front of him and he would have followed her until the end of the earth; more-or-less did, and he had the scars to prove it. Now was no different, bar the fact that the eyes that haunted his soul were steely-blue instead of fiery-gold. He pinched the bridge of his nose angrily, flopping down on the bed.
God, man, when will you learn how to live your own damn life?
The bed was soft and comforting, much better than he’d grown accustomed to in the ruins of the Orphanage. Well, fuck it all. If being Commander Leonhart’s emotional kick-toy meant he got a good night’s sleep and a decent wage, then count him in. Squall was the fucking Ice Princess, but at least he was familiar territory.
Well, had been.
Seifer’s mind drifted back to this afternoon, slumped defeated in the comfortable leather chair in the Commander’s office. Hearing soft footsteps on the plush carpet, feeling warmth and weight as Squall lowered himself into his lap; straddling his hips. It had almost given him a heart-attack. Squall Leonhart, who never let himself get close to anything, was coming on to Seifer Almasy, who threw himself into whatever he saw. It was unheard of. Then it got even more bizarre when Zell had arrived, and Squall still hadn’t moved. And Zell hadn’t even been surprised. In fact, if Seifer didn’t know any better - which he didn’t - he would’ve said Zell was actively trying to get them both together.
What the fuck was he getting himself into now?
And where did Rinoa fit into everything? She and Squall were obviously still together, or at least she thought they were. But Seifer had seen that the glassy film of indifference in Squall’s eyes had gone beyond just the surface, so far down that he’d just sat there and watched as Seifer ripped into the already terrified Rinoa. He found himself feeling sorry for the girl, she liked Squall - that much was obvious - but Squall was with her... why? Not totally out of duty because there had been something there, but it was no where near as deep as it should have been considering what he’d heard about their relationship. Squall loved Rinoa in his own way, but she bored him, irritated him. She wasn’t a challenge.
Was that it? Was that all that Seifer was, a challenge? Well then, so be it. He could live with that, was used to it, in fact.
Seifer sighed and closed his eyes. He was still fairly injured - how long had Zell said he’d been out; three days? Shit, that was too long. And he was still sore, even today’s minimal exercise had worn him down. It felt good to rest his eyes, though. And that’s all he was doing, resting his eyes. He’d get up in a minute and pack Hyperion away, check that all his stuff was still here, maybe brush his teeth. He’d do all of that, but in a minute. After he’d rested his eyes.
He woke up with his back in the dust and a weight on top of him, foreign lips hungrily devouring his own. He returned the kiss eagerly, his hands running up and under leather to touch smooth, silky skin. The weight moaned and began to grind down on top of him, against his groin, and it was his turn to cry out. He pulled his mouth away, breaking the kiss, and was left staring up into warm grey-blue eyes. He reached up a hand to caress the face, half hidden by unruly locks of hair the colour of melting chocolate.
"What’s this for?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
The dream-Squall on top of him just snorted. "I haven’t seen you in a long time; I miss you. And I’m horny." He grinned playfully, still such a strange expression even after all this time, and ground his hips down again.
Seifer closed his eyes and moaned a little louder this time, feeling himself getting harder. "Don’t," he managed. "I have to go to dinner in a minute, the last thing I need is a giant boner. People would talk, you know."
Squall frowned. "People?" His eyes widened in recognition. "You’re back at Garden."
Seifer nodded. The Squall in his dreams seemed to know pretty much everything he ever did or would do, but he was a separate entity of some sort; not connected to Seifer’s thoughts or day-to-day experiences. He needed verbal briefings on the things that happened in the waking world.
"How long?"
"Just woke up. You beat the crap outta me pretty badly..."
He felt an un-gloved hand caress his cheek tenderly. "That was the last time," Squall noticed the look of disbelief etched on Seifer’s features and continued. "I’m not kidding; test it."
"I just woke up from a coma, I don’t want to go back into one." He shook his head sadly. "Here is the only place you’ve ever let me touch you. Assuming you really are you and not a nice fantasy I’ve created."
"If I was a fantasy would I have this?" Squall gestured to where Wark, Seifer’s stuffed chocobo, sat watching them. Seifer had given it to the dream-Squall just before coming to Garden as a boy, worried the other children would tease him for owning the battered old thing. He could move some objects through the dreams - his choker had been the first testament to that - and this fact alone made him suspect they were something more. The Squall here knew, but he refused to tell; saying it would break future continuity and that Seifer would find out soon enough.
He sighed. "I guess not."
"Then try it. I sat on you today, didn’t I? In my office."
"Yes..."
"Most people would take that as a pretty big fucking hint, you know."
"But, Rinoa..."
Squall waved a hand lazily. "Forget it; spoils of war. But the War’s over now, time for us to start living our own lives. And I... want... you," he punctuated each word with a kiss. "Not her."
Any further protest Seifer was considering was cut off by another long, passionate kiss. "I want you," the dream-Squall whispered into his ear, the warm breath causing his stomach to curl in pleasure. "Please. You never come visit me anymore, I don’t know when I’ll next get to see you." It was pleading, desperate. Beautiful. The sort of voice Seifer wished madly Squall would use for him in the real world. He’d kill to hear that voice outside of this dream-desert; had killed, in fact. He’d done many, many bad things for love.
Before he could protest, Squall had rolled them over so Seifer was covering the smaller man’s body with his own. There really was very little option as he reached down to loosen the multitude of belts his lover wore, down to the buttons of his leather pants. He was already hard as Seifer began to stroke him, slowly at first, teasing almost, but he increased the pace rapidly, not wanting to wake up and leave Squall unsated. The grip on Seifer’s back tightened, pulling them closer, Squall’s neck arched in pleasure, breath coming in short, ragged bursts. He had never been much of a moaner; the quieter and more submissive he was, the more he was enjoying himself.
Lazily, Seifer wondered how long it had been since he’d visited. Six months maybe. Or longer, even. He couldn’t find the way if he was drunk, and there had been an awful lot of that recently. When he was a boy he spent every night by the side of the unchanging, adult Squall. It puzzled him that while he grew older, his companion didn’t; but then again, this was his dream, and Squall was just here to keep him company. Or maybe it was the other way around.
Squall gave one final gasp as he came, releasing all over Seifer’s hand. He began licking the come off absent-mindedly as he watched a soft smile play across his lover’s lips, cheeks flushed with afterglow.
"Thank you."
Seifer shrugged. "Now you know I’ll be back," he smirked. "You owe me."
Squall looked up at him, a strange light playing in his eyes. He reached up to stroke the other’s face. "Next time we won’t be lying covered in the dust," he said cryptically.
"Fuck, what is it with you and your prediction shit?"
"Have I been wrong yet?"
"No."
Blue-grey eyes just sparkled mischievously at him. It occurred to Seifer that he’d probably seen more expressions on Squall’s face than anyone else alive; even if the Squall he’d seen them on wasn’t exactly real, per sei.
"You should probably get up now," Squall told him when he yawned, stroking his scar affectionately.
Seifer nodded, leaving a kiss before he went. The last thing he heard before waking was a whispered promise.
(next time)
Well, so much for just ‘resting his eyes’, Seifer thought ruefully as he yawned and sat up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. He’d been dreaming, again. Something nice, but he couldn’t remember what. Whenever he tried to pinpoint anything it vanished, leaving only disjointed threads; dust, baking sun, the creak of leather. He shook his head to clear the whisps away; dreams were dreams. Something he hardly ever had and almost never remembered. It wasn’t really important.
Briefly, he wondered why his mouth tasted of Squall, overlaid by something else. An odd, rich flavour. Familiar, but...
Whatever. It wasn’t important. He noticed with a satisfied grin that he had his own bathroom and he immediately set about cleaning himself up, glancing quickly at the clock as he did so. It was 1840, which meant there was still another twenty minutes before he had to go downstairs to face the dining hall. Now there was a trial he could do without, and he briefly considered simply not going. He was sure nobody would miss him if he wasn’t there, right?
His train of thought was derailed by noisy voices out in the corridor. One was definitely Zell, the other he pitched as Selphie and a third he didn’t really recognise, but the Galbadian accent suggested it to be Irvine. The voices hushed when they passed his door; avoiding him? He didn’t blame them, at least not until the door chime buzzed.
Puzzled, he opened the door, only to be immediately bowled back into his room as Selphie launched herself at his torso.
"... the hell?"
"Sei-ii-ii-ii-ii-fie-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee!" came the excited shriek. "Welcome home!"
"Uh..." he looked down into a huge smile and excited eyes. "Thanks..."
Irvine slid over and disentangled the excited girl. "Come on, honey, let go. I think you almost gave him a heart attack."
"I’m sorry!" she squealed. "It’s just isn’t this so-oo-oo exciting! Everone’s finally all back together again! It’s just like old times... only now everyone’s taller, but still!" She was jumping up and down, and the sheer weight of her enthusiasm made Seifer feel dizzy.
He turned to Zell. "Is she... okay?"
Zell shrugged. "She’s just, y’know, excited."
"This is just great! Oh! Oh! I’ll have to talk Squall into letting us have a festival! Yeah! A great big festival to welcome Seifer back to Garden! You’ll help, won’t you Irvy?"
Seifer gave a pained expression. "Uh, that might not be such a good -"
"And we can have great big banners and balloons and, oh, we can get a band and..."
"Uh..."
"Just let her go, man," said Zell. "She’ll run out of steam eventually."
"I’m glad." He watched Selphie list out all the things she was going to organise, smiling at the harried expression Irvine gave as he tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to calm her down.
"I guess it’s good that someone around here’s excited to see me..."
"Hey man, we all are. Like the lady says, with you back it means we’ve got everybody back again," Zell flashed his canines in a grin. "The whole damn Orphanage Gang. The six of us together again."
"Six? What about Rinoa?"
Zell waved a hand dismissively. "Rinoa’s Rinoa, but no matter how hard she tried she’d not gonna fit into your spot in our gang. She isn’t tall enough, for starters."
"You guys are really... into this whole ‘Orphanage Gang’ thing, aren’t you?"
"Hell yes! You don’t just ignore coincidences like that."
"I guess not..." he paused. "So what’re you doing up here?"
"Visiting you, silly!" Selphie took a break from organising the next festival long enough to punch him playfully in the shoulder.
"And making sure you come down to dinner with us," Irvine drawled. "You being there is practically the only sure-fire way to get the Commander out of his office." He winked conspiratorially and Seifer felt a flash of what, if he didn’t know any better, he would have called embarrassment. Was it just him, or was the entire world trying to set him up with Squall? What, Rinoa hadn’t worked out so they’d all turned to the next most obvious target? It was sort of creepy.
"Hey hey, earth to Seifer..."
"Huh?" he flashed a weak grin at Selphie. "Sorry, I was just thinking."
"Ooh, thinking, hey? Careful or you’ll turn into Squall..."
"Hey, just ‘cause I think don’t mean I’m gonna turn into the Ice Princess. Lots’a people think, Chicken, you should try it sometime. Might find it fun."
"Fuck you, Seifer."
"Many more appealing than you have tried."
And that’s how it continued. All the way out of the Dorms and into the Cafeteria. It was strange, Seifer thought, how naturally everyone fell into a rhythm; like nothing had ever happened, like they’d all been friends for years. He’d expected it to be more awkward, to have to deal with resentful eyes and bitter remarks, but everyone seemed almost supernaturally good humoured about the whole affair. Selphie didn’t even seem terribly angry about him blowing up Trabia Garden; sad, maybe, but then so was he and maybe she saw that. Maybe they all did. And Seifer was still Seifer, after all, and so spent most of the way down picking on Zell. He still said the same things, still found the same old buttons to push, but this time Zell understood - finally understood - and took it good-naturedly. Though he still managed to inflict some accidental property damage, especially when Selphie and Irvine joined in the fray. Seifer would have been the first to admit his experience with social situations had been fairly limited, and he found this one new and strange, though not altogether unpleasant. For once he was with people who saw him not as an enemy, or a superior, but as an equal. Who could dish back as much as he could give out and still walk away smiling.
It was very fucking weird. But he figured he could get used to it.
It was still a little early when they reached the Cafeteria, but there were a few students lurking about. They gave Seifer odd looks as they passed - as usual - but being flanked by Zell, Selphie and Irvine meant nobody was going to try anything. They found Quistis already sitting down at a table, and Zell and Irvine immediately set to work dragging two others over, forming one big, long row.
"Hey, you’re up," Quistis commented when they arrived, fixing Seifer with a wide smile. "I heard rumours, but I’ve been hearing a lot of them lately. So, how do you feel?"
"Shit." He took the chair across from her, Zell flopping down next to him. Selphie sat next to Quistis, and Irvine at the end between Zell and Selphie.
"I heard Squall left you in quite a state." She raised one delicate eyebrow at Seifer, and he recognised the expression. It meant she was going to start Finding Things Out.
He rubbed his scar thoughtfully, then shrugged. "I’ve been living more-or-less by myself for, what? A year or somethin’. I’m outta shape."
"So what’s it like to be back, man?" Zell queried, poking him in the side and hitting a bruise for his efforts.
"Aah, fuck. Do that again and I’ll kill you," Seifer reached out with a lazy swat, which Zell dodged easily. He sighed. "It’s kinda like I never left, really. ‘Cept now my room’s bigger. But, Garden is Garden, y’know?"
Everyone nodded, they did know. This was their home as well; Zell was really the only one who’d had much of a life away from it.
"Hey kids," Irvine drawled, pushing up his hat slightly to get a better view of something over Seifer’s shoulder. "Don’t all look now, but here comes the SS Heartilly. And she’s towing an iceberg."
They all looked, of course, and there was Rinoa forcibly dragging a very irate Squall through the thickening crowds. They seemed to be arguing.
"All’s not well in paradise?" Seifer commented.
"Of course it isn’t, man. If it was, you wouldn’t be here."
There it was, that creepy feeling of being set up again. And now everyone was looking at him like he’d just grown three heads. He tried to think of something wry to say and failed miserably. Fortunately, and for the first and only time in his life, he was saved by Rinoa who’d spotted them, dragging the sullen Squall along behind her.
"Hey gu -" she cut off abruptly as Seifer turned to face her again. "Seifer!" It was almost a squeak. Obviously she hadn’t noticed him before, and this thought amused him somewhat. He wasn’t an easy guy to just miss.
Squall seemed to visibly perk up at that, and sat down next to his supposed rival. "Sit down, Rinoa," he said, not turning around to face where she was still hovering, eyes flittering nervously around the table.
"But..."
"Geesh, Rinoa, it’s just Seifie," exclaimed Selphie, her voice perky but a wicked gleam in her eye. It almost made Seifer shudder; this was how these people treated their friends. He wondered if there wasn’t something else to it; payback, maybe, for all the times Rinoa had dug them into trouble with her inexperience. She hadn’t been bred for a mercenary’s life; the others had.
"But..."
"Sit down." Such a simple statement, but from Squall it became more of a decree. And Rinoa obeyed - what else could she do? Taking the seat at the head of the table, leaving Squall between Seifer and herself. It occurred to him that he was causing problems, but looking around the table he only found a sort of wicked amusement; they were enjoying this. So, he played along, reclining back lazily, a lopsided grin spread out across his face. He looked more ready to invade Trabia than eat dinner, and Rinoa fidgeted.
Briefly he wondered if she could sense his presence more so than the others. She was a Sorceress, after all, and he was still a Knight in every way which mattered - never mind the fact that his mistress wasn’t going to be born for another few hundred years, maybe longer even. He hadn’t exactly gone through a training course on how the whole messy business worked. Instead he’d just sort of constantly left it on his to-do list and then - what with compressing time and all -never really gotten around to it. Ultimecia would have known - she seemed to know just about fucking everything... maybe Edea, or maybe there were books on it somewhere. Esthar, probably; Odine might know. He made a note to go on a fact-finding mission as soon as he got settled in, but for now Quistis was taking orders and Rinoa was "helping" - any excuse to get away from the table and away from him. So he ordered the salad and received a table full of strange looks.
"What?"
"Since when’re you a vego?"
"Since I had to start killin’ and skinnin’ my own food. Vegetables are easier, besides, after the Cry the monsters ate most of the Centran wildlife." He winced slightly as he remembered an ill-fated experiment with a Geezard; he’d been throwing up for weeks, and had lived on vegetables and the occasional fish ever since.
Zell made a face. "Eeuurrgh. Vegetables..."
"You have the tastebuds of a six-year-old," Irvine declared.
"That’s not all he has of a six-year-old..."
"Ack, shut up! Go back to Centra!" He poked Seifer in the bruise again.
"Fuckit, Chicken!" Seifer roared angrily, before proceeding to tickle Zell until he fell off his chair.
"Well... at least they're not hitting each other," Irvine lamented.
Squall just shrugged.
They lasted twelve minutes after the food arrived before they started throwing it at each other, reminiscing over long-forgotten dinners as children with cries of "Yeah, well remember the time that..." and "Only because she said..."
Rinoa just sighed, poking at her food dejectedly and trying to ignore the bewildered stares of the students as they watched their most senior faculty members - not to mention exulted heroes, and a villain, of the War - acting like a bunch of children. This was a kind of magic in itself, and she marvelled at it, despite her envy. The six of them had a bond, all right, and her Sorceress’ eyes could almost see the filaments of it, wrapping thin and gossamer around them, binding them together. Their auras all humming the same tune; she’d heard it before, only not as strong. All it’d needed was the thick bass rumble of Seifer to complete the symphony.
Seifer...
He certainly didn’t look much, especially not now with two beans shoved up his nose, enjoying the disgusted reactions he got upon eating them. But he felt wrong; she could feel Ultimecia in him still, no matter what the others said. And it frightened her, but no where near as much as the way Squall acted whenever he was close to the gem-eyed Knight. She hadn’t seen Squall so alive since, well, since the War, really. He didn’t seem very different outwardly - he was still stoic and frigid - but she could see something stir under his blue-grey eyes, and whatever it was, it was more than he’d ever given her. Was that why Seifer unnerved her so much? Was she jealous? That was just stupid, though; after all they were both guys and they’d both dated her. But there had been hints, subtle innuendos the others had dropped off in conversation. Things she’d ignored at the time but she now saw as warnings, and she suddenly began wondering exactly what the relationship between the two scar-faced youths was.
"Hey, Rin. Heads up!"
She pushed the thoughts out of her head, looking up quizzically only to be hit in the face with a small tomato. It was followed by riotous laughter, except from Selphie, who just looked innocent, and Squall, who just looked bored.
"Don’t," she said, wincing at the whine creeping into her voice, painfully aware of the look it elicited from Squall.
"Gee, sorry. It’s just you look like such a mopey-guts," Selphie teased. "Join in; food fighting is fun!"
"And against the rules," Seifer pointed out. "But who’s gonna expel us?" He ruffled Squall’s hair. It was meant as a joke, but Rinoa saw the look that passed across those grey orbs and it was all she could do not to cry.
Instead she managed a weak smile. "I’m sorry, I guess I just haven’t been feeling very well."
Instantly she got a wave of disinterested sympathy. No, she had not gone to see the doctor. No, she didn’t need a painkiller, or a Curaga. She was just a bit tired, is all, but she’d be okay, no, an Esuna wouldn’t help. Nobody asked her what was really wrong, and she tried not to meet Seifer’s eyes at all; the predatory curiosity there was more than she could handle.
They went back to talking excitedly amongst themselves, and she poked her food a little more. Eventually, she excused herself. It was all she could do not to run out of the Cafeteria, away from the laughter and experiences shared a lifetime ago. She felt the eyes of students on her as she went; the rumour mill would be flying tomorrow, What Made The Sorceress Flee The Table? Film at eleven.
As soon as she was away from the others she broke into a run, not sure where she was going, only that it was away. Alone. She stopped when she reached the edge of the Garden, the gentle waters of the tropical Horizon Ocean lapping the side of the strange vessel. Squall had left them parked here for a while, saying that the students enjoyed the distraction of the hot sunny days and gentle sea. Strange words for a man who was never distracted himself with anything. Well, almost nothing. She leant against the railing, feeling small and afraid and most of all very, very lonely. Cursing all the events that had brought her here; brought him here. It was stupid and irrational and more than just a little selfish, but right now she didn’t care. She just wished...
The thud of heavy combat boots beside her jerked her back to reality. She turned, face hopeful, only to be met with a familiar steel choker. She looked up further, into those strange, predatory eyes, almost blue out here in the moonlight.
There was a moment’s awkward silence.
"You can feel it in me, can’t you?"
"Huh?"
"Ultimecia." Straight to the point, as usual. A year spent alone had taught Seifer the importance of not mincing words.
"I... I don’t..." she didn’t know how to answer.
He just sighed, leaning over the railing. His eyes cast out to some far-flung point on the horizon, viewing deep into a world she’d never understand, nor would she ever want to.
"It’s okay," he said. "I know. Why do you think I’ve been avoiding people all this time? It’s not as bad as it used to be, but I guess you notice it more than the others, huh? Strangers and Sorceresses..." he trailed off, brows furrowed in thought. He’d grown shaggy around the edges, she realised. Always so immaculate before, now there were escaped strands of hair falling out of his hasty ponytail, and a faint trace of gold running down his cheeks, stopping just below his jaw line. She supposed he hadn’t been so bothered with his appearance with nobody else around to see, and now that there was he wasn’t quite back in the habit. Or perhaps he just didn’t care as much anymore. It was strange, a reunion with an old friend who’d changed beyond recognisability. But he fit in so well with the others; why not her?
"But anyway, I just want to apologise."
"For what?"
A shrug. "Just in general, y’know? I’ve done some pretty shitty stuff, but I’m... better." He said it as if wanting to destroy the world was some kind of temporary illness.
One question. "Why?"
And suddenly, the haggard stranger on the railing was gone, and there was Seifer Almasy again, looking for all the world like he’d just thrown them all into D District Prison. He turned to face her, arms spread wide, half shrug half apology, smirk firmly in place. "Please, I’m a professional. I can’t break confidence."
A gasp hitched in her throat. "You... you know something, don’t you?"
He cocked his head to the side, seemingly considering this. "I might," he said finally. "But, we’ll see. Who the real winners are when the curtains are down and the audience has gone home." He leant in close, his voice threatening and low and she had to repress a shudder. There was something...
It was gone when he pulled back, turning to go, casting a friendly glance over his shoulder as he did so. "Anyway, everyone’s upstairs setting a bad example for the students. Come on."
He didn’t turn to make sure she was following, but she did. What other choice did she have?
I almost cursed when she came back with him. I don’t know how he managed it, but I suppose if there was anyone who could draw the Princess out of a hissy fit, it was Seifer.
He’d gone to find her after dinner, an unusual concern in his eyes. I don’t know if it was for her specifically or just a general neurosis about not being accepted back, and I was personally hoping for the latter. She was Rinoa, after all. If she couldn’t look after herself by now, then there really was no hope.
The rest of us had gone back to the small common room at the far end of our little stretch of corridor to relax and consume alcohol in, of course, direct violation of normal Garden policy. But, as Seifer had said at dinner, who was going to expel us? We’d ignore all the students breaking curfew, and they’d ignore us having a few bottles of Galbadian sake on the top floor of the Dormitory block. Zell had sat down in front of his console and was challenging everybody to games of Hyper Fight 4 on the wide, flatscreen TV. That was how it started. You should see us all trying to play video games after a few bottles of alcohol; it’s not a pretty sight. Especially since Selphie can beat the rest of us drunk, blind and with one hand tied behind her back. I was flaked out on the big, soft black leather couch I’d bought last time I was in Esthar; genuine hexadragon hide, or so the label said. Irvine was slouched rakishly on a cow-hide beanbag cheering on Selphie while Quistis sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the wall. It was the usual routine, bar the fact that Rinoa wasn’t here to hang off my every move. Well, for a while, anyway.
Seifer threw my feet off the end of the couch when he returned, sitting down in their place and downing the rest of my sake. Rinoa took the arm next to me, ignoring the space between Seifer and myself - seems that she still wasn’t comfortable around him. Well fine, so I scooted over to let her sit. She instantly snuggled up possessively against my side, burying her face in my shirt. If I had been feeling kind I might have noticed that she looked like she’d been crying, but I was not a nice guy; especially not with my thigh gently brushing up against another set of leather-clad legs, causing me to think uncharacteristically unfaithful thoughts.
Seifer noticed, but said nothing. Of course.
Two bottles later, Seifer took the now frustrated - not to mention thoroughly sloshed - Zell’s place in front of the TV and proceeded to be beaten by Selphie for a few rounds before she slapped him angrily on the arm.
"What?"
"Stop losing!"
"I can’t help it!"
"Can so! You’re losing on purpose."
"Am not."
"Are to."
"Am not."
"Are to."
And so on, right up through the next round which lasted a record time of seven seconds as Seifer, so caught up in arguing, forgot that he was supposed to be losing and beat Selphie without even paying attention. A few more rounds of that and she threw up her hands in frustration, conceding defeat and going to settle down next to Irvine on the bean-bag, leaving Seifer along in front of the console. The abandoned controller looked, for the first time in ever, rather inviting, so I disentangled myself from Rinoa’s deathgrip and - rather shakily - threw myself down on the floor in front of it. History held its breath as, for the first time, Squall Leonhart engaged in a round of Hyper Fight.
Seifer just regarded me evenly; we both knew the rules, and just because it was a video game didn’t mean that they’d changed any. I picked a character I quite liked the look of and watched the screen impassively as a non-committal voice with a deep Galbadian accent told me to commence. So I did.
And, as usual when I battled, there was nothing else. And, as usual, we were even; neither gaining any particular upper hand for long. For an hour and twelve minutes there was nothing else in the world bar the flash of the decreasing health bar and the press of buttons under my fingers. I heard the bemused utterances of the others as they watched, amazed, but not really expecting otherwise. How could they, considering who was playing? Seifer shouted curses and obscenities, I remained silent, and neither of us noticed everyone else slip off to bed.
I felt Seifer shake my shoulder gently.
"What?"
"It’s 0200," he said. "Everyone else left."
I looked around; he was right, we were alone. Finally. I let my gaze trail over him as he yawned and stretched languidly. Don’t talk to me about sexual repression; I practically wrote the damn book on it. I was horny as hell and sitting alone in a darkened room with the object of my lust. And I had no freaking clue what to do about it. He noticed my stare, and returned it levelly.
"So..."
"So..."
This is the point at which we fling ourselves at each other, madly declaring our love and fucking each other senseless until the morning, when someone - preferably Rinoa - accidentally stumbles upon our tired and naked bodies curled up together on the floor, ensuring all sorts of wacky hijinks as we navigate the emotional fallout thus ensuring.
"I guess I should get some sleep, else Doctor K’s gonna put me under house arrest in the Infirmary."
"Yeah."
If only life was like a comic soap opera.
He stood up, stretching the cramps out of his legs, and turned to go. He got most of the way to the door before I stopped him.
"Seifer?"
"Yeah?" He cast a glance over his shoulder.
("Fuck me.")
"Come see me in my office tomorrow morning. So I can figure out where to reenrol you."
A pause. "Alright. Night Leonhart."
"Yeah. Goodnight."
And then he was gone, and I was alone again. So I sat there in the dark for a little while, just thinking about things. When I finally made up my mind I sighed, and went to bed - my own bed. Some things would just have to wait.
Notes: Whew. There, 11,000 words of social life down. Now we can get back to the actual story. Okay, so the planned Violence didn’t exactly pan out; but we got a bit of Rinoa-bashing instead. I actually wound up feeling a little sorry for her; she does kinda get the burnt end of the stick here, but oh well. Such is life. There’s another chapter of "normal life" to get through, a sex scene (yes yes, you heard right; an actual sex scene) or two and a little more angst before the actual plot gets fired up here. Note, if you will, Seifer’s comments to Rinoa about Ultimecia; this Gets Important Later. Yes kids, this has been foreshadowing. Wow, for once I actually know where I’m going with a story. Well, kinda. All up (including all the author’s notes) this story’s been 26,000 words. Shyte... I need to find something more productive to do with my time.