I slept, and did not feel so numb when I awoke. I showered, and thought about the previous day, finding it not so terrible as I had judged when I went to sleep. There were worse things than having a whole afternoon off, getting laid, and turning in early

Like finding out that the only girlfriend you ever actually cared about is bound heart and soul to your rival? I lifted my chin and let the water strike my face. Admit it, Almasy, you don't really care that much any more. If you did, you would have been looking for her in Timber or Deling. If you did, you would never have...I stopped that line of thought. You just wanted to make a scene.

I had to admit that there was some truth in that. I wasn't too comfortable with the idea of Rinoa and Squall, but no, I wasn't really that outraged. I did care about her. I wanted her to be happy. If Leonhart was the one to do that, so be it. Perhaps I had been so angry because everyone knew but me. I hated to be the last one to know.

I turned around and let the water pound on my back. I felt satisfied with the conclusions I had made about my feelings for Rinoa. Yet there was more to yesterday that was bothering me. I reached around and turned the hot water on all the way. Immediately, steam began to pour into the air around me, and I had to force myself not to turn around and turn the knob back down again. The water was scalding, but I made myself stand still until I got used to the new temperature. I needed that intense heat to relax my muscles. There would be fighting later that day.

I was bothered by my callous treatment of Lydera. You bleeding heart, I told myself. What you gave her was a hell of a lot better than weeks of waiting for a phone call that would never come. At least if she thinks you're an utter sod, she'll get over it faster. And maybe she wouldn't be so quick to jump into bed with complete strangers. Not that I was complaining, of course.

Some snide part of me wondered if I had rationalized my behavior enough yet. Another part of me snarled back, saying, yes, I have. If people can't deal with me, tough. Let them figure it out. I'm done thinking about it.

And I was. I stood there, feeling my blood rush to the surface of my skin in an attempt to cool my body temperature down. Not yet, I thought, and began to wash my hair.

There was one other thing about yesterday. I frowned as soap ran into my eyes. I couldn't seem to put my finger on it, so I tried my usual tactic; clearing my head of all thoughts and waiting for it to pop into my head. And it did.

That strange expression on Trepe's face as I looked at her for dismissal. What had that been? She had looked stricken. That was really the only word for it. I had never seen such an expression on her face before; always it was just that same cool mask, or a slight smile.

I understood that I was the cause, but I didn't have any idea why. Had Rinoa told her about our meeting in the Library? If she had, realizing that she had forced us to see each other again so soon after that unpleasant incident could have caused that look. No, that couldn't have been it. Rinoa had been there when Trepe sent for me, and I didn't think Trepe was vindictive enough to put either one of us in that situation. And some instinct inside me told me that Rinoa would keep that encounter in the Library to herself. It had to be something else.

I paused in my lathering as another possibility occurred to me. I had answered the phone out of breath, and showed up at Trepe's door only semi-clothed. That stricken look would be totally natural if Trepe had feelings for me. Could that be it? She had done it before; I didn't think there was anyone who didn't know about her infatuation with Squall. And I knew full well I was attractive, and charming when I put my mind to it. It was possible. But could Trepe really be in love with me? It didn't seem likely, but it was the only answer that I could think of.

I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair. My whole body was throbbing dully; if I didn't get out of the shower soon, I was going to collapse of heatstroke. So I turned the hot water all the way off, and the icy water hitting my overheated body felt wonderful. After a few moments, I turned the water off and grabbed my towel.

I returned to my room and dressed. I was prepared for the exam; there was no need for me to study.

As I walked toward the elevator just a few minutes later, I resolved to watch Trepe and try to see if my suspicions were correct. She wouldn't be able to hide that sort of thing from someone who was looking for it. My only worry was what I should do if I was proved correct.

 

In the next two weeks, I watched Trepe covertly for signs of infatuation. And I eventually concluded that my guess was wrong. She did not flirt with me, did not pay any attention more to me than was appropriate for mentor/student relationship. She did not sneak glances at me or even try to make conversation with me when we were sparring. In short, she was not in love with me. I was relieved.

And in those two weeks I noticed other things that made me revise my opinion of her drastically. I had ignored her after an initial assessment of her character, so long before when she had first been my Instructor. I had labeled her mediocre at best, and did not give her any thought whatsoever beyond scorning her occasionally for being as mediocre as she was. That label had stuck after the Sorceress War, and I had neatly fallen into my habit of not paying any attention whatsoever to her that was not required by my position as her student.

But watching her in my mission to discover the truth, I realized slowly that the old label did not apply any more. She was not a mediocre instructor. In fact, I couldn't find any fault at all with her teaching technique. Something had changed her, and I guessed that it had been the victory over Ultimecia that had provided that change. Trepe was no longer an insecure adolescent, too proud of a teaching position that she used as a tool to gain the approval of others. She was a leader and a teacher now in fact, not just in name.

She did not reach out to her students, did not try to be friendly with them. In fact, she discouraged the students from treating her as if she were at their level. She did not laugh at the frequent joking of the students, and when the class got too boisterous she deftly funneled their activity into more useful forms. She seemed utterly confident in her skills; certainly, she beat me to the ground regularly in our bouts. And I was no novice. She kept a strict curriculum, and somehow managed to convey without saying anything that if anyone should slack, the consequences would be dire. No one slacked. I found myself admiring her confidence, much to my surprise; what surprised me even more was that I actually found myself liking her. I appreciated the fact that she had apparently kept her word about keeping my secrets, and I positively enjoyed her silence. It was comfortable, much the same way that Fujin's silence was comfortable. I liked not feeling the need to make conversation.

 

One warm day, after spending the morning in the ruins of Centra, Trepe programmed the skimmer for the old orphanage. After eating lunch on the beach near the lighthouse, she set us free for an hour to look around, telling us to meet in the meadow next to the house for practice. Students and SeeDs wandered off in small groups or singly, some heading directly toward the field, others trekking across the sand to explore the abandoned lighthouse. There was no need for it anymore; no ships visited ruined Centra.

I stood on the beach and listened to the surf roll in as I looked toward the small stone house. It was falling into ruin, much like the rest of the continent. I remembered that it had been old even when we lived there before, so many years ago that even the newly restored memories of my past seemed hazy and far away when I tried to reach those early times. I decided to climb the beach and see the house. Who knew what might be hidden there? Perhaps some remnant of my childhood that I would be glad to discover. There were more impossible things, I was sure.

But after climbing the cracked stone stairs and peering into the dusty interior of the house, I knew that there was nothing there for me. This decrepit house with its crumbling walls and decayed furniture did not hold any gem of revelation. By the time I had reached the orphanage, I had already lost my innocence. The pattern of my personality and life had been set some time before, with some event that even the shock of being ripped out of Time Compression could not restore to me. I looked at the stained walls and fallen stones and felt nothing, just decay and death.

My eyes began to adjust and I realized that I was not alone. Trepe was standing in the center of the room, not quite facing away from me. Her arms were folded, and she gazed around the room much as I had just a few moments more. Somehow I felt certain that she felt differently about this house than I did. She looked like she was experiencing nostalgia, heavy and sweet. I watched her, and found myself wondering what experience had led her to the orphanage. Had hers scarred her as mine had me?

A few moments later, she turned to me, and asked, "Ready?" I nodded and led the way to the meadow, glad to be away from the gloom of the dead house.

The hour wasn't up yet, but everyone was present. Perhaps they felt what I felt, the heavy feeling of mortality hanging in the air, and did not wish to bear it alone.

Trepe paired us off for practice, and I headed to the far end of the field before turning to her and drawing Hyperion. We practiced in silence for quite a while, longer than we normally did without resting. Just as I began to feel really fatigued, she signaled for me to stop and dropped her whip gracelessly. She fell back into the tall grass a moment later with a sigh, and I realized that she was nearly as tired as I was. I must have been improving, then. Good.

I joined her in the grass and closed my eyes. I felt as though I should clutch my racing heartbeat in both hands and urge it to go faster, to never give in to that final irresistible cessation of movement. But soon enough my pulse slowed, and pleasant lethargy replaced that slight feeling of desperation. I could see the sunlight, filtered red through my eyelids. I was content to lie there in the sun and not do anything.

Trepe's voice was soft, almost slurred. "Was this what it was like?"

The question washed over me, and became the final answer to one thing that I had not been able to figure out. Even after watching her carefully for two weeks, I still could not figure out her personal opinion of me. She was very careful not to let her students know what she privately thought of them, another thing I admired her for. So she didn't hate me.

With only mild surprise, I found myself answering her.

"No. Now I'm just so tired that I don't want to move. The other time, before..." I stopped, unsure how to continue. The flavor of that experience in the field outside of Balamb was so complicated I wasn't sure I could put it into words. I shrugged mentally and tried anyway. I was tired, and would probably ramble on worse than Raijin, but I didn't think she would mind.

"It was like I was paralyzed by the beauty. All I could do was watch. Petals, floating everywhere. I couldn't have gotten up if my life had depended on it. Paralyzed by beauty. And joy. And peace. I didn't even know, not until Fuj woke up and told me. She crawled over to me and burst into tears. Fierce Fujin, crying like her heart would break." Her heart had been broken, I knew. How painful had it been to her, to see me lying there dazed, with tears in my eyes? As painful as what had happened next?

"I managed to look at her. I said, 'Why are you crying, Fuj?' And she cried even harder and whispered, 'Because you are.' The only time I ever heard her speak without shouting." Hadn't there been another time? I wasn't sure. "And I was. I didn't even know it until she told me. I don't think I ever had, before..." I stopped, wondering about that. Surely I had cried as a small child. That's what children did, after all. Screamed and cried.

My mind returned to Fujin, weeping. This wasn't a subject I liked to think about, but I was tired and could not seem to push the thought away. She had said, on hands and knees, "Because you are," and collapsed into a sitting position, turned slightly away from me. She had covered her face with her hands, and I vividly remembered her slight shoulders shaking, as if in a gale.

I remembered struggling to lift my hand, finally succeeding after what felt like centuries. Touching the back of her arm, gently. Feeling something, a great tidal wave of emotion. There wasn't any way to label it, love, devotion, desire. It transcended all of those petty comers, eclipsed them. And I knew that I had come home. With Fujin still alive to share it with me. There could be no one more fit.

But at my touch, she bent forward and pressed her cheek silently into the grass, looking away from me. My hand slid from her arm and I could not find the strength to reach any further for her. She stayed that way for several moments as I struggled to speak. But I could not, and soon she stood up shakily and bent to check on Raijin. My head seemed to turn of its own accord to face the sky, and although I raged at my inability to act, the ecstasy crept back in and I could think of it no longer. Later, I could not bring myself to think of it at all.

"She slipped away from me," I murmured, and suddenly remembered that I was not alone. I opened my eyes and looked at Trepe. She was asleep, glasses askew on her nose.

I let her sleep for a while, and when my thoughts became too much for me, I shook her awake.