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At
an Arm's Length
A Final Fantasy VIII Story
by
Aligator
Chapter 19 - Ghost of a Chance
I
don’t believe in destiny | Or the guiding hand of fate
I don’t believe
in forever | Or love as a mystical state
I don’t believe in the stars
or the planets
Or angels watching from above
*****
Book in hand, Quistis hurriedly walked down the hallway to Selphie’s room. She couldn’t get the title of the fairy tale, or legend or whatever – she grinned to herself – out of her mind. ‘The Blue Fairy.’ Where have I heard of this? Oh, well. Maybe *they’ll* remember it, since I can’t seem to.
As she turned the corner, she unconsciously slowed down: the hallway in which Selphie resided was usually abuzz with activity, practically 24-7, and to keep going at her current pace would mean running over some cadet or another. But today. . . The hallway is empty?
Instinctively, her eyes narrowed, and she tucked a strand of hair that had escaped her sloppy ponytail behind her ear. Her pace slowed even more, as she looked at her watch. It’s only 9:15, curfew’s not for more than an hour.
Quistis reached her friend’s loudly decorated door. Her “IN” sign is up, *this* is a good sign, she thought as she moved to knock. She didn’t have to. The door inched open slowly. “Selphie?”
“Selphie?” She cautiously poked her head into the room. This isn’t like her. “Selphie? Are you in here?” Of course, she isn’t, dummy. She’d have answered by now if she were here, she berated herself and let herself in. “I’ll just wait here until she gets back,” she said aloud in her brightest voice. “She can’t have gone too far.”
The unnatural quiet that had fallen upon the whole dorm was starting to get to her, so she moved toward Selphie’s desk, which happened to house the room’s only source of light, a small tabletop lamp. Quistis seated herself and proceeded to stare vacantly out the open window.
The moonlight illuminated the grasslands just outside Balamb, giving them an otherworldly quality that seemed so. . . familiar. She moved, partially out of the chair to get a better look, when a seasonal gust of wind burst into the room, gently shuffling the multitude of papers that had been spread over the younger SeeD’s workspace.
Quistis sighed softly, as she knelt down to pick up the papers scattered throughout the small living quarters and return them to their place. The light on Selphie’s desk flickered off for the briefest of seconds and flicked on to illuminate a small snapshot that had, moments before, been buried beneath a mountain of SeeD paperwork.
Her eyes widened, and her heart felt as if something were squeezing it. It was a picture of her as a child at the orphanage. Before she was sent to the foster family that hovered on the very edges of her memory. Before she enrolled at Garden.
Her fingers traced its edge delicately, as if it could turn to dust. I must be about seven. And so must –
*****
Seifer.
Quistis viciously raked her free hand through what was left of her ponytail as she battled her way through all of the monsters who dared to cross her path to the Training Center’s most secret of secret places. Her Save the Queen crackled with an almost electric quality, killing grat after grat with such ferocity that the T-Rexes that normally stalked trainees simply stayed away.
By the time she reached her destination, she couldn’t distinguish the beads of sweat from the tears that ran down her face. She closed the door that led to the balcony and fastened her whip around the doorknob as a special precaution. Selphie and Irvine are probably turning Garden upside down looking for me. I don’t care.
“I don’t care,” she practically sobbed, sinking down in a spot illuminated by late September’s full moon. After pulling her hands into the sleeves of her sweatshirt to dry them, she reached into its interior pocket to pull out the photo.
It looked as if it had been staged by a photographer, but a little bit of a thumb intruding on its lower right-hand corner gave away its origin as a snapshot. Two, towheaded children silhouetted in the incomparable light that precedes sunset. Playing and unaware of the unblinking eye that recorded their actions for posterity, they were smiling. . . as if sharing a conspiratorial secret.
Why didn’t I remember?
Their faces tilted toward each other with a closeness that only hinted at their familiarity. Best friends. She had been reaching to brush dandelion fuzz out of his hair when his hand grasped hers gently, and Quistis noted that the girl was wearing a small sapphire and diamond ring.
Quistis fingered the necklace and cross she was wearing – the one that she had found in the cave. He was who left it for me, she thought as she struggled to see clearly through the tears that insisted upon brimming again. The necklace. The little boy was wearing the necklace that she was wearing today. The little boy was. . . is. . . Seifer.
And I didn’t recognize him. . . When he came to Garden, I didn’t recognize him. He always looked at me with such. . . expectation. Oh, dear God, she looked skyward, tears spilling across her patrician features. Her face contorted painfully, in horror at a sudden realization: Hyne. Whoever’s up there? At least, in the beginning, he remembered.
*****
“Quistis!”
“Q!”
Selphie ran breathlessly around the corner, only to run into her boyfriend’s chest. “Oh, God! Irvine! Where could she be?” The worry and fear that had started in her stomach rapidly rose into her throat, choking her, “Where could she be?”
He pulled her close, enveloping her in an embrace so absolute that it caused her to exhale suddenly.
They stood there for a few moments in silence collecting their thoughts, when Irvine moved away suddenly. “That’s it!”
“Did you think of someplace we haven’t checked?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “Yup! Think of Garden’s exterior. . . there’s an extra balcony to the left of the ‘secret place.’ If anyone knows how to get there –”
“It’s Quistis!” she answered solemnly. “Let’s hurry. She didn’t look so hot, and that was four hours ago.”
*****
Finding the path to the hidden door would have taken a long time under normal circumstances, but tonight, for some reason, the Training Center’s humidity sensors were off the charts. It’s strange, this normally makes most of these critters sluggish, but it’s as if someone came in here and stirred them up, Irvine thought, remembering the T-Rex that had charged upon them when they entered the facility. Most unusual.
“YES!”
He looked up at Selphie’s shout. He looked at his watch. It was a little past 2 a.m.
The petite girl had already tried her master keycard to no avail and was attempting to manually force the door open as he finally joined her. “Quistis?”
“Quistis, please open the door,” Selphie pleaded, banging on the door. “Quistis?!”
“Quistis! We know you’re in there, open up,” Irvine commanded calmly. “If you’re not going to open the door, then we’re coming in.” The look in his eye caused Selphie to step back.
I know what’s next.
He moved so he faced the door at an angle and raised Exeter. She covered her ears. And a shot was fired.
Still no sounds of movement on the other side. They were going in.
The couple burst through the entryway to find their friend lying, curled-up and motionless, at the far end of the balcony. She was clutching the photograph.
*****
It was morning. She knew it was because she could see the light even before she opened her eyes. And she wasn’t in her room, either. A cowboy hat mounted on the wall signaled she had somehow ended up in Irvine’s room, even before her gaze fell on the marksman and the messenger girl sleeping uncomfortably upright in the recliner-style chairs that flanked the couch where she must have spent at least part of the last night. Any hopes she may have had for a quiet escape were dashed when a half-open blue eye met her’s.
“Don’t even think about it,” a weary voice uttered. “At least, not until Selphie sees you. She – we were both worried about you. Neither Selphie or I wanted you to find out this way.”
Her own small voice answered, “Wh- Why? Didn’t you tell me?”
“Edea. . . Matron. She was sure you’d remember on your own in time. . . that this was all for a reason.” He sat fully upright. “Hyne, I’m sorry. Both of us are.”
“I know. . . I was just in shock. I –”, a look of immeasurable sadness crept into her eyes, causing them to darken before she buried her face in two shaking hands. “I. . . I didn’t remember him, but I think he – he remembered me!”
Irvine’s eyes darted toward Selphie and received a reassuring nod in return. He then moved to the couch, gently placing his arms around Quistis in a hug. Selphie sat down on her other side and hugged her two best friends in all the world.
In frustration, the brunette sighed. All we can do is let her cry.
*****
Two days later, Quistis Trepe – who never fidgeted – stood fidgeting outside Cid’s office. She knew what this was about: she had placed her name on the active duty roster. She wanted out of Garden. . . a short furlough from everyone who knew her, a situation where she could bury herself in work and not think.
I think too much.
The door to the Headmaster’s office opened suddenly, and she scrambled to stand at attention.
“Good morning, Quistis,” Cid greeted her in his customary brisk manner.
“Good morning, sir.”
He motioned toward his office, and she followed him in. “So what is this I hear about you requesting a long-term mission?” He seated himself and nodded for her to do the same.
“Well. . . sir. I haven’t been on a long-term assignment since before the War, and. . .” she gave him a winning smile, “quite frankly, I feel the challenge would do me some good. . .” Please just once, let this go my way.
“Agreed. And I have just the mission for you.”
Her blue eyes flashed in surprise, and then narrowed. This was *way* too easy.
“Actually, you were requested specifically. . .”
She shifted toward the edge of her seat.
“. . . by the President of Esthar.”
“Sir, with no disrespect, if this is a baby-sitting assignment or some ruse concocted by Ellone or Matron to observe me like some kind of . . .”
“You’d have no part in it,” Cid finished for her. “I agree with you, and I’d back you up, if it were only the case.” He spread the contents of a file folder across the desk. “Take a look.”
She picked up page after page in shock. “Incident reports?”
“Yes. They’ve been having some serious security breaches, and in light of the assassination attempt you and Irvine foiled earlier in the year, they’ve got reason to be paranoid.”
She frowned over the top of her glasses at him, “And nobody else is security certified? You know I’m trying to move out of that sector and into diplomacy.”
“But there’s no one more qualified than you,” Cid grinned. “I’m not being mean. I’m paying you a compliment. And so is President Loire.”
He proceeded to gather the papers and place them back in the folder. “Besides, part of your mission is to beef up their security without anyone on the outside finding out. With your personal ties to his stepdaughter, no one will think it strange that you take up residence there for three months. You depart from Garden at 3 p.m. tomorrow.”
They both stood and shook hands, and Quistis left the office with a dazed look of disbelief on her face.
*****
A little more than 24 hours later, Quistis was making her way through the train’s dining car back to the SeeD cabin. Every few steps, the modern, high-speed contraption stopped at one of the many stations on the way to Esthar’s governmental quarter.
Another hour and a half, she sighed, pulling out the photograph of her and Seifer. She smiled to herself. Selphie was so relieved that I wasn’t mad about everything. I was never mad. I was just. . . thrown.
Even so, she didn’t stop to check-in with Edea before she left, and she didn’t know where to begin when she saw Ellone. They both knew. I’m not mad.
No. That’s a lie. I’m mad at *myself* for not remembering sooner. She fingered the pendant that adorned her graceful neck.
The PA came on, announcing her stop. No time for being melancholy now. I’ve got a job to do.
*****
Two days into her stay, the blond SeeD was in one of her morning briefings with Kiros, when Ellone and Selphie – of all people? – burst into the conference room.
“Happy Birthday to YOU!!” They sang gleefully.
“What a bad girl, you’re not supposed to work on your birthday,” the head of security said with a wink, as he managed to gather his papers and head for the door in a fell swoop. “I’m just going to have to report you to Estella.”
Selphie nudged Ellone. “Who’s Estella?” she whispered.
“His wife,” replied Elle, as she turned to look at her stunned little sister. “Surprise?”
*****
I should have known *all* of this was coming, Quistis thought to herself as she surveyed the crowded ballroom, later that evening. I got off way too easily last year, and Selphie didn’t throw a fit when she found out about my assignment. Of course. . . that’s because she had a backup plan. She smiled at Ellone, who danced by on the arm of a rather handsome officer from Ward’s army regiment.
Even surrounded by the throngs of people, she stood out. Her hair was half-up, half-down, and the portion that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back contrasted attractively with the deeper gold shade of her elegant, column-cut cocktail gown.
She circled the room’s perimeter, partly out of habit, and considered each of her friends from Garden. They had all made the trip to be there for her. Not even ten minutes into the party, Zell and Tara bounded up to her, in part to excitedly report that the trail to the book’s origin was rather convoluted. Squall, thanks to Rinoa’s gentle prodding, came despite the fact he still had a hard time facing his father.
She giggled to herself when she saw Irvine pretend to almost drop Selphie as he “dipped” her on the dance floor. Even Xu and Nida made it. But there’s still one person missing.
Quistis shook her head as if to clear it and grinned as she saw some of her new acquaintances. Estella, in particular, caught her eye, and enthusiastically raised her glass. “You’re getting our gift later,” the olive-skinned woman shouted above the din, lightly punching Kiros for effect. He played injured and pouted. Definitely a match of equals, Quistis smirked.
The cake had already been cut, and several guests had already stopped her to present her with gifts, but at 11:00 p.m., the bash showed no signs of slowing down. She made a pit stop by the bar and helped herself to another glass of champagne, and then quietly slipped out to a deserted balcony just off of the ballroom, itself.
Laguna Loire’s leg was starting to cramp up, so when another fast song came on, he took the opportunity to rest, inconspicuously, at a table near the band. He was waiting for the attendant to bring him another drink when he was tapped on the shoulder.
“President Loire, sir?”
“Kinneas, that you?” Laguna groaned. Yep it is, the younger man had abandoned his normal attire in favor of a tux and a black cowboy hat.
“Yes, sir.”
“Call me Laguna. You’re making me feel old.”
“Yes, sir. Have you seen the golden girl recently?”
The fortyish gentleman grinned, “Quistis? Not recently. . . why?”
“Well, like half of the guys in Kiros’ squad want to dance with her at midnight,” he threw up his hands, “Don’t ask me. And Selphie’s in the process of screening them. . .”
“I’ll look for her, but I’ll also give her a chance to avoid being thrown to those wolves.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Laguna rolled his eyes. He didn’t even have to think about where he would go, if he were her. He knew where he always went to escape during functions like this.
Sure enough, when he snuck out of the party and onto the balcony, she was there, looking out at the skies above his garden. Irvine’s description couldn’t have been more accurate. She looked like one of the stylized portraits of famous movie stars that had been so popular during his youth.
He didn’t want to startle her, so he cleared his throat rather loudly before he approached her hiding place. Laguna started brightly, “My men are starting to wonder where the most beautiful girl at the ball has escaped to.”
“Rinoa? She was dancing with Squall, the last time I saw her,” she answered.
The fatherly man frowned and his heart broke into a million pieces as he stared at her in shock. There was no obnoxious smirk on her visage and no sense of irony in her tone. She really doesn’t *realize*. . . she doesn’t think of herself in that way or think others. . . A lump formed in his throat, but he pressed on.
“It’s a shame that our city lights prevent us from really seeing the stars here,” he sighed.
“But your garden makes up for it,” she turned to him and smiled.
But it’s a sad smile, he thought. It doesn’t travel up to your eyes. He continued to look at her as she watched the animal residents of the garden scamper in the shadows created by the topiaries and hedges.
He had only known gotten to know her in the last few days but had already come to the conclusion that she was an extraordinary girl who was going to become a remarkable woman. . . if she gives herself a little more credit and half a chance.
When it came to work, she was the consummate professional. Confident, collected and charismatic. People just seemed to want to do things for her.
But *she* doesn’t think she’s deserving. She’s one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met, inside or out. What Raine and I had hoped an eventual little sister to Ellone would become. . .
“Quistis?”
“Yes, sir.” Her attention shifted from the scene in the distance to the gentleman with whom she shared the balcony.
“Pardon my asking, but which birthday is this for you?”
“Twenty-one,” she answered quickly.
“You don’t look a day over eighteen,” he chuckled. “Don’t grimace at me. You’ll take that as a compliment someday. I just realized that I hadn’t given you my gift, that’s all. I was wondering what passes for a successful birthday gift among twenty-one-year-olds, these days.”
“Sir –”
“Laguna,” he corrected her.
“Laguna, you’ve already done so much, the party and. . .”
“That’s not what I mean, kiddo.” He continued, “If you could have anything in the world, what would you wish for? If you could do whatever you wanted, what would you do?”
Her long lashes blinked in confusion. “That’s a hard question to answer. . . on the spot, I mean.”
“Take your time. Think about it. We’re not in a hurry here.”
Some long moments passed. And he noticed her manicured nails playing with the delicate chain she wore as a necklace. “There’s not really anything.”
“Quistis,” he sighed. “The wheels in your brain are turning too quickly for you not to be thinking of anything. Seriously, if you could do anything? See anyone?” He noticed her face flush and tears well slightly in her eyes.
“Here, here.” He pulled out a clean handkerchief and handed it to her. “Tell Uncle Laguna.”
She gave him a funny look through her tears. “Uncle Laguna?”
“I almost got a smile from you. Now tell me.”
She inhaled sharply, “I don’t know what Elle’s told you about my past. . . I mean, everyone else seems to know more about it than I do. But I think I may have really hurt someone – repeatedly – and I didn’t realize it or mean to do it, but . . . I think I did.”
“Who was he?” Laguna prodded gently.
“Seifer.”
He looked at her. No one this young should carry such a burden.
“I didn’t remember him when we came to Garden, but he did remember me. I’m almost sure of it. He didn’t understand why I was doing this to him, and I didn’t understand why he acted the way he did because I didn’t know.”
She was working herself up. “But you were a child, yourself, Quistis.”
Her chin jutted up, and her eyes darted to the side in a vain attempt to prevent a total break down. “But during the war I hurt him again. . .”
“Quistis, you can’t blame yourself. . .”
“He was possessed, and I ran into him, and he caught me off guard. He sneered at me, and I –” By now she was quietly sobbing. “He looked at me for a split second, totally lucid and threw down his sword and ran away.”
“Quistis.”
The concerned look on her elder companion’s face caused her to involuntarily take a deep breath and compose herself. “I’m sorry. I never answered your question.”
Laguna nodded.
“If I . . . could do anything. . . I’d apologize to Seifer,” she finally said in a strained, but low voice.
Laguna smiled warmly, yet sadly, as he embraced the youngster. “I’ll do everything in my power to give you that chance.”
She pulled away slightly and looked at him as if he were joking. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll do everything in my power to give you that chance. It might not happen right away, but I’m pretty persistent.”
“Sir, that’s too much.”
A sparkle appeared in his eye, and the corners of his mouth twitched up slightly. “But you’ve got to promise me to do two things on your own.”
She tilted her head.
“One: Be the best Quistis Trepe that you can be. I don’t mean maintaining your image. I mean being the strong, funny, smart and dazzling person and great friend that I know you can be. Life’s too precious and short to worry about things you can’t change. You need to trust that somehow. . . things will work themselves out. And two,” he pulled a small, translucent pouch tied with ribbons and tossed it to her.
She looked at him questioningly. “Daffodil seeds?”
“Elle mentioned you liked them,” he smiled. “If you ever decide to leave SeeD, please consider putting down roots here, so to speak.”
“Thank you,” she whispered in awe.
He placed one hand on each of her shoulders. “You and I are more alike than you probably will ever realize. Now, it’s getting cold, and it’s getting late.”
She half-laughed as she attempted to clear her face of the tears she had shed. “Oh, dear.”
“I’ll let you in on a secret. If you don’t want to go in through the ballroom, you can use that staircase, it’ll take you to the hallway where your suite is. I can make your excuses for you.”
Gratefully, she thanked him and started toward the far end of the patio.
“And Quistis?”
She turned around.
“We’re family. This is our secret.”
She grinned. It was the first real smile he had seen from her. “Thank you.”
He watched her trot off and stood for a few moments before he picked up her abandoned glass of champagne.
It’s flat. He took a sip anyway and looked toward the sky. He didn’t know quite why, but he felt protective of Quistis – as if she was as much his daughter as Elle was. “Raine, she’s in love with the bastard. She doesn’t know she is, but she is.” He finished off the glass. “He’s trouble, but I want to fix things for her. Is that the right thing to do?”
Just then a small, cyclonic gust of wind swept across the balcony depositing a selection of brightly colored autumn leaves at Laguna’s feet. He bent down, with a little difficulty, and picked up what appeared to be a few petals from flowers that were mixed in the pile.
They looked like the flowers that Raine used to grow in her garden in Winhill. He smiled up to the sky again and whispered, “You always were the romantic, weren’t you?”
*****
But
I believe there’s a ghost of a chance
We can find someone to love
And make it last
To
be continued. . .
Next week: Chapter 20 – Push It
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Official Disclaimer:
AT AN ARM'S LENGTH © 2002-2004 A.L.
Roberts.
FINAL FANTASY VIII © Squaresoft. They own these characters,
I’m
just borrowing them for a little bit. Buy their games, and give them your
money! Lyrics from the song "Ghost of a Chance"
©1991 Neil Peart/Rush. (Song appears on their album Roll the Bones.)
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