Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ In Dreams, What Nightmares May Come ❯ Chapter 2

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

[ two ]

"There's only so much a potion can do," Doctor Kadowaki explained, "and the more potent ones might kill him. I've sterilized the wound on his abdomen and purged the infections, the potion's taking care of the skin and organ rebuilding, and he's probably going to have another scar. The other things will just take time."

Quistis lifted an eyebrow. "What things?"

"Loss of muscle tone, virtually a complete absence of fatty tissues, a weakened cardio-vasculatory system, achlorhydria..."

"English!" Zell cried.

The doctor rolled her eyes. "He's been starving himself on top of getting into one nasty fight. I can't heal this with a simple spell or potion; the body just needs time to repair itself. Bedrest, food, and fluids is all he needs to recover. And," she looked meaningfully at Squall, "no stress, no fights. I've gone ahead and strapped him down as well. Don't give me any grief, Fuujin. It's so he doesn't try and get up and hurt himself even more.

"Now," she turned her attention towards the clean and potion-healed dark and light duo, "what happened to him? The more I know the more I can do."

They exchanged looks. "We're not sure, ya know."

Kadowaki peered at them suspiciously.

"We're not hiding anything, ya know! It's just..."

"...We're really, really not sure why this happened," Fuujin finished, her eyes still bearing the pink and puffy signs of her earlier outburst. Unfamiliar with stringing together words in rather unnecessary sentences (a few well chosen ones, as well as a punishing physical accompaniment, were always enough to get her points across), she stumbled a bit to explain their life as of the last year...




Warm sunshine with a cool, breezy air; Seifer wouldn't have admitted it, but the weather was definitely one of the biggest reasons why (after a relaxing trip to Fisherman's Horizon) they'd decided eventually to settle south of Winhill alongside a mostly abandoned beach. After the "bugs" had been cleared away (mostly stubborn fastitocalons and nest-protecting thrustavaevis), they'd managed to build themselves a fairly good home. Four rooms were enough: a larger one for both Fuujin and Raijin and a smaller for Seifer, one for bathing, and the last with a fireplace and a comfortable couch just large enough for three. It was primarily functional, and with Raijin's flair with cheap furniture and decor it became cozy. Things were... pretty good, considering...

...Considering that they were poor, on the run, and banned from every major city here to Esthar.

It really didn't matter that they were out of money; they discovered that Winhill was more than willing to let them take care of their substantial creature difficulties as long as they were out of the village before the sun went down. They paid in goods rather than gil, which still worked out fine since, as Fuujin tended to point out, "SHOPPING, LIMITED." Winhill's stores were rather mediocre (other than the flower shop) and the relatively nearby town of Timber was willing to let Seifer, and only Seifer, in at irregular intervals, depending on their mood. His wonderfully well-timed interruption of the former Galbadian President's attempt at televised propoganda gave him passage for brief periods of time; that is, until someone remembered he'd also been the one to take over that same President's army hardly a month later. The local police squad quickly became used to both escorting him to the edge of town, as well as patching up the bludgeoned citizens who'd attempted to make him pay for his sins against their fair city.

The three also became quite familiar with the Galabadian and the Estharian militaries and became a little disappointed when they stopped coming. Seifer complained about the lack of good action and his partners heartily agreed.

Still, oceanside living was spectacular (how could they have ever considered living the rest of their lives inside steel walls?), they had good company and they had good food.

The best of times...

...With the worst of times just around the corner.

A few weeks after the last Galbadian attempt had met their ex-Commander's "No Mercy" technique, almost four months since Ultimecia's defeat, Fuujin started realizing that the amount of food she was having to clean off of Seifer's plate was steadily increasing. At first she thought it was an insult to her cooking. After a swift kick to his shins, punctuated by a heartfelt "RAGE!", the food began to disappear again. All was well until Raijin commented that really, Seif, he was hungry, but he didn't want his portions anymore, ya know.

The duo began watching over him as he ate, convinced he'd possibly picked up some sort of illness either from the air or from one of local yokels. Three nights later he slammed Hyperion through their meager dinner table, as well as some of the floor beneath, and roared that if he had to spend one more fucking meal with two shitheads watching over his fucking shoulder he'd kill them both. Still, they continued to spy on him out of the corner of their eyes. Supposedly their well-meant gesture broke a bit of his resolve; he ate a little better as the days progressed.

Then...

Often the three took their separate ways around Winhill; caterchipillars and bite bugs were hardly threats. At dusk they'd meet back at their hovel to enjoy a meal together. Fuujin used her earnings to purchase food, Raijin to purchase any sort of household product or repair items that they might need, and Seifer maintained their weaponry and medical stock. As usual, both Fuujin and Raijin arrived one after the other, one with a basket full of vegetables and a Balamb imported fish, the other with some much needed boards to repair several holes in their roof.

Seifer was late.

It wasn't a big worry. Not at first. He'd probably just gotten caught up with maybe one of the larger breeds, or maybe had gotten waylaid by one of the more aggressive locals. Raijin set out to rebuilding the roof and Fuujin began preparing the evening meal.

A few hours later, Raijin's shin and calves were sporting more than the usual set of bruises after having asked a few too many times what the time was, when they were going to eat, and whether or not they should go out and look for their missing friend. He eventually fell asleep, sprawled out onto the couch after having spent the remainder of the evening watching the fire die out and flinching every time his restless partner passed him by.

Fuujin sat and stared at the door once he'd fallen asleep, expecting that her Knight (which he still was, Sorceress or no Sorceress) would come bursting in, boasting of some elynole he'd found wandering the outskirts of the town that he'd vanquished all on his lonesome. She waited...

And waited...

The day broke over the horizon and she waited...

She was busy disposing of the uneaten food, stiff from sitting and numb from worry and the lack of sleep, when he finally came home. The door slammed open, waking Raijin and causing her to drop a plate. A figure whose face was red and whose clothes were askew leaned against the doorposts. He took a few stumbling steps in, then ran suddenly back out. The sound of someone violently expunging the contents of their stomach floated in from a short distance away.

He'd been drinking.

Seifer, who'd always prided himself in how well he'd maintained his body, who'd always scorned the foolish, mind and reflex-numbing effects of alcohol, had been drinking. Not just a glass of wine or a mug of ale, it seemed (and smelled) as if he'd been binging all night. When he finally made it back in he yanked off his gunblade holster and his jacket, tossed them carelessly to one side, and collapsed onto the floor in front of his bedroom without saying a word. The both of them picked him up and tucked him in, put away his weapon and folded his jacket, then agreed that whatever happened they couldn't leave him alone.

Something was very, very wrong. But what were they to do? He wasn't going to listen to them, and they sure as hell couldn't force him to do anything.

The two nursed him out of a massive hangover, then questioned the motives behind his irregular one-man party. He'd answered with a weak laugh and a flurry of profanity. "Fuck, can't a guy go out for a good time once in a goddamn while?" He continued to deny any change in his well-being, and Raijin's tentative suggestion that he visit a doctor earned him a black eye.

Seifer didn't object to the extra company during their daily outings, but both his fuse and his appetite were decreasing at a slow, steady rate. The tension between them increased accordingly. Raijin was harried on both sides, for it was Fuujin and Seifer who'd set themselves up on opposing sides of this battlefield. When they did speak to each other it was either through him ("Raijin, tell Fuujin to get this shit out of my face." "Um, Fuuj..." "RAIJIN, SEIFER PUNISH." "Aw, c'mon, I'm not doing that ya know...") or in whipcord tones that lashed terribly from one end of the room to the other ("Leave me alone! I'm fucking fine!" "LIAR! SEIFER, IDIOT!" "Just stay the fuck out of my face, bitch!").

One day, he'd had enough. He was supposed to watch Seifer stay at home (which is what he did now more often than not some six months later, leaving the two of them to take up the slack), but he just couldn't. On top of having to watch his two best friends fight like cats and dogs he had to watch one of them slowly wither away. Seifer was finally visibly thin and obviously sick, coughing more often than he spoke. Winhill's resident doctor refused to see him, but the implications of this rude action wouldn't really hit them till a few days later. Fuujin was out scrounging for game in an effort to bring back enough caterchipillar spikes to purchase medicine, and Raijin decided he'd just sneak into town and buy a few things to cheer up the place. Maybe some sweets, some wine, or some new pictures would help soften things between them.

Fuujin came home to find Seifer face down in the sand, the ocean mercilessly lapping at his head.

Raijin swore later that her scream probably hit the Bluffs.




"How long ago was this?"

"About a month ago." Fuujin responded, too exhausted from her extended speech to act annoyed that Rinoa had interrupted her.

"It took you guys a month to get from Winhill to here?" asked an incredulous Zell. "Why didn't you just take a freakin' car or the freakin' train?"

"We didn't have any money, ya know," Raijin replied while Fuujin fought the urge to kick the boy, "and we didn't wanna come here at first, but we ran into some problems..."




"IN, NOW!"

"For the last time, no," replied the gate guard. "Now leave before I'm forced to shoot."

This was their second attempt at savlation - Timber. Their first instinct had been to head to Galbadia Garden, where they hoped to find some sympathetic ears. As their former base, Raijin suggested that they might have a few remaining supporters, or at least some people who might be more willing to "forgive and forget" (ya know). If anything, SeeD medical facilities were substantially more equipped than some small-town doctor's office (even the dent Fuujin put into the Winhill doctor's door couldn't get him to help them). Deling City might match them (Esther might surpass them, but that was a near-impossible destination), but the new President would probably let ruby dragons trample over his fair city before he'd let his people be reminded that his government had willingly aligned themselves with the Sorceress.

Bullets bit the ground in front of them as soon as they were in range. A few seconds later, Galbadia Garden's special air attack unit had been dispatched and they were forced on to make an exhaustive run for the cover of the nearby forest.

Seifer, slung sack-like over Raijin's shoulder, remained comatose up until the first night they made camp somewhere in the desert between the Garden and Winhill. He immediately demanded to know what sort of stupid idea this was, bringing them in the middle of nowhere just because he'd had a fainting spell. Amazingly, the duo found that their beloved leader was rather light-hearted about the whole deal, breaking the first joke they'd heard in months. They laughed for a while, remembered past glories and spoke of future endeavors, and ignored Seifer's occassional cough and wayworn appearance. Afterwards, they slipped into their bedrolls confident that the next morning would see them marching merrily straight back to their oceanside home.

Even Fuujin's well-meant, but miserably over-enthusiastic, kick to the backside couldn't wake Seifer up the next morning.

Though it slowed them down quite a bit, the remaining part of the ex-Disciplinary Committee trio decided that it was best to stick to offroad trails. Between Seifer's well-known scar and gunblade, Raijin's exotically colored skin, and Fuujin's eyepatch the three of them were just too recognizable. Possibly the local militia might tempt glory by doing what the government's own troops were unable to do: apprehend the infamous Knight and his two High Commanders. In their current hungry, trail-beaten state, down one man and lacking any Guardian Forces, their chances of making it through such a battle was slim.

Coming to Timber had only a slightly smaller risk factor. It took them nearly a week to reach the small town, over moutainous terrain and lakeside forests, harrassed day in and out by the dangerous wildlife. The days in the desert had taken their toll on Raijin, and despite his objections Fuujin aided him in hauling their friend between places. Seifer drifted in and out of consciousness, and they spent his waking minutes in the shade away from prying eyes where they forced food and water down his throat. Though his eyes were open and he reflexively chewed and swallowed, he seemed not to realize much else.

Finally, they reached the train depot, only to be halted immediately by the stoic men who attended the town's gates. Fuujin shouted, Raijin pleaded, and still they were unrelenting.

"Look," the right gate guard finally said, sighing, "it's not safe for you here. We let the Knight in because he could handle himself. One good look at your sorry asses and every wife who lost a husband and every father that lost a son is going to take a potshot at you. It's for your own good."

"RAGE!"

The man on their left cocked his gun.

Her dark companion laid a comforting hand on her arm. Seifer was once again slung over his shoulder allowing Fuujin room to handle things if the situation turned ugly. His voice trembled slightly, the hardships of the past days wearing on his usually steadfast spirit. "C'mon Fuuj, we're not gonna get anything here, ya know. We gotta go somewhere else."

"You know," began the right guard as they walked away, his volume a little louder than would have been necessary to talk to his gate companion, "the passenger train leaving at five today is gonna have a cargo carrier attached."

"Izzat right?" replied his partner.

"Yup. Hear it's just a buncha fruits they're importing over to Balamb, not a lotta important stuff. Not even one damn guard on the whole caboose."

"Shame."




"Those were some damn good fruits, ya know."

"IDIOT." In their seated position, Fuujin traded a nice, satisfying kick to the shins to a slightly less gratifying smack to the back of the head.

Doctor Kadowaki wiped a hand down her face, exasperated. "So what happened afterwards?"

"Not much, ya know," said Raijin, rubbing the sore part of his skull. "Seifer hasn't woken up since we got off the train. He woke up once while we were in it and ate a little bit, but that's it, ya know. We kinda just camped out in the fields where the grass was taller so no one could see us, then just headed here. We weren't about to go into Balamb, ya know, even though I wanted to say 'hi' to some people..."

"What was all of that about the Sorceress?"

Squall's softly spoken question had most of the room's occupants looking in any direction but his, trying to avoid the irascible demeanor of their current Commander. Fuujin's turmoil was a near match however, and she met his harsh gaze with her one good eye. "I don't know," she replied, her tone steady but rough from frustration and having to endure a long telling. "This is the first time I've heard of it." At seeing Rinoa, standing as close as she could to the wall behind Squall, her face twitched slightly in an attempt to avoid a contemptuous sneer. To her joy, the peevish, would-be Sorceress huddled a little closer to her pretty-boy Knight.

"He didn't wanna tell us nothing, ya know."

"Waitaminit!" Zell cried, waving a hand up in the air. "You said he didn't wake up. What's up with... you know.." He drew a line across his belly.

"Oh yeah," Raijin said, rubbing the back of his head in discomfort, "guess he did wake up once..."




Since Balamb Garden had resettled back into the Balamb Plains, it was logical therefore to head in that direction. If that failed, their last possible resort was to head to Esthar, where before their execution the dopey, kind-hearted President might at least treat them to a bath, a meal, and a doctor. Then have their brains blown out.

Unfortunately, before Balamb had lifted off, a good deal of the wildlife that was settled in the Training Center had been let free. Many of the members of Garden's Enviromentalist Club had convinced the former Commander Cid Kramer that it would be cruel to subject the animals to the rough and tumble experiences of a portable home. He managed to negotiate the keeping of a few of them - at least those who had been hand-raised by SeeD keepers and were therefore unfamiliar with their natural habitat - but the rest were allowed to go free.

Not excluding the T-Rexaurs.

While they were hiding admist the tall grasses, Raijin stumbled upon a cache of large, cat-sized eggs right near the inside of the nearby forest. The taking of them was later labelled by Fuujin as possibly the most monumentally stupid decision he'd ever made.

Once back at their tiny encampment, Raijin cracked one open as a meal. He'd been intending to eat it raw, and even courteously offered the other two to Fuujin and his unconscious leader. The girl outright refused ("DISGUSTING.") and Seifer gave him the silent treatment, much to his chagrin. Out of the pieces of bespeckled shell fell a small, lizard-like creature, still attached to its yolk, covered in embrionic fluids and letting off a gut-wrenching smell. Upon looking closer at its tiny forearms, long tail, and mouth full of teeth that, though not completely formed, were definitely showing dagger-like development. Cold, terrified realization dawned on the both of them just as Mommy T-Rexaur let out an undefiably angry roar from a place far too close for comfort.

They attempted to run, and they got a good maybe fifty feet before she managed to get within striking distance. Raijin was forced to abandon Seifer's limp form to the relatively safe cover of the grasses so that he could help in defending the three of them from the twenty-foot tall beast.

It was a perfect example of futility. They were bereft of magic and of guardian forces, leaving the both of them to rely on merely their wits, their strength, and a single weapon. Though Raijin would have had no problem hefting Seifer's gunblade, the skill required to use it was lost admist his third year SeeD weaponry training (barely passed). Raijin's weapons were his fists, and Hyperion was far too complex a tool to be utilized at a whim. Fuujin's Shuriken surpassed excellence in defeating human foes, but against a T-Rexaur's thick hide it was trying pit her own flesh against a sewing needle. The scratches she made drew blood, but not nearly enough to kill.

They tried. Raijin made himself the dummy for attack, flailing and shouting to get the beast's attention, socking it in the snout when it tried to dive in for a bite, and allowing his partner to slice it up from behind as much as possible. They wore it down slowly but surely, but their own reserves were taxed at a greater pace. The loose dirt and bristly rushes worked against them as well, harrowing movement and scratching them endlessly. Sooner or later they would lose, but they would give it hell before they did.

Just as both of Fuujin's arm gave from the stress, just as Raijin's foot met the soft, yielding patch of mud that sent him reeling to the ground, just as the T-Rexaur dove in for what looked like the first meal of the evening, a blast of fire hit the side of the beast's head. Suddenly more afraid that the commotion had caught the attention of either the Balamb militia or the Garden's SeeDs, the duo looked towards its source.

Seifer was standing there, one hand outstretched, Hyperion in one hand, and a familiar smirk on his face.

What followed was the greatest, most elegant, and skillfully deadly Fire Cross anyone had ever laid eyes upon. The fire he'd summoned up from beneath the earth using his weapon's Ifrit-based power shot up and consumed the T-Rexaur as if hell itself had come to claim it. Though her flesh was charred from head to toe, her eyes melted in their sockets, the thing continued fought for life, stumbling a few steps as flames licked its scales from head to toe. Seifer rushed forward, intent on finishing his technique with a clean slice from bowels to neck.

It was there that the rush of adrenaline ended, and the tables turned.

A claw, black and bloody, lifted on the T-Rexaur mother's foot as it fell, finally, from its grievious wounds. With exhaustion creeping back into his limbs his reflexes slowed, and he was unable to pull back from the beast's last, wild attempt to take revenge upon its stolen children. A ragged, ash-covered crevice opened up on his belly and his own blood splashed across the tall grass.

Too stunned to cry out, the duo rushed to his side. No tears shone in either of their eyes, only a grim determination. They wrapped their beloved friend in strips of bandages that Fuujin had stored for their journey, tying pieces of spare clothing to them when they ran out. He was bleeding, he was dying, and he'd slipped back into unconsciousness without giving them words of assurance, unable to hear their words of praise.

Balamb Garden's bright, spiralling structure was just down the road and they would make it. All of them. No matter what.




Raijin looked distinctly uncomfortable. "It's my fault, ya know, except we were just so hungry..."

"AFFIRMATIVE," responded Fuujin to all of his statements.

"May I make a suggestion?" Quistis began, then continued when Squall made the briefest of nods. "Taking into account Seifer's actions when he saw Rinoa, some of us should concentrate on finding out what sort of effects on the spirit that being the Sorceress' Knight may have entailed." She gave Squall a piercing look. "It could be your future at stake as well."

"I volunteer," said Rinoa, tentatively stepping out from behind the SeeD Commander.

"Me too!" piped Selphie. "I'll get Irvine to look into Galbadia Garden's library, too."

"Yeah, me too," murmured a reluctant Zell. There were some things that could make a lengthy library visit worthwhile...

"Fine," Squall said. "Someone contact Esthar as well; talk to their President or see if you can get ahold of Odine."

"I'll do that," said Quistis.

"You two," he continued, pointing at the ex-Disciplinary Committee, "are to be confined to a dormitory until further notice."

"Aw, c'mon! We haven't eaten real good in a long while, ya know, and we wanna say 'hi' to some old pals."

"AFFIRMATIVE." Though no one in the room believed that the rather solitary Fuujin had some 'old pals' worth revisiting, she was definitely eager to consume something worthwhile. That, and being imprisoned in a dorm would mean the closest thing to entertainment would be beating up her dumbfuck of a partner. She at least knew where all the weak links and hidden stashes were in the Disciplinary Room, providing that no one had bothered to search for them after they'd left.

"Whatever. I'll call Esthar, Quistis, you watch these two. You're not to go anywhere unescorted, including the bathroom."

"Ew!" Selphie cried. "Glad I volunteered for the library!"

"Reconvene three days from now at 1600 hours here to report."

Rinoa presented a puzzled query, "Why here?"

"If Seifer's awake the first thing he needs to hear is what's going on." He looked at the doorway to his rival's hospital suite, his expression blank and unreadable. "And I don't want confidential information about the Sorceress repeated twice."

The dark-haired girl flinched. Sometimes he forgot...

"All right now, shoo!" Doctor Kadokwaki began waving hand and clipboard at the individuals in her office as if they were children, no matter if they were SeeD and whether they held rank. "I have a patient to care, and despite his past mistakes I do want him to get better, so go on and get this over with as soon as possible."