I embraced a dream
The night before.
The air was of musty pinks,
And there you stood, smiling by the door.
In your hands lay a white rose,
Scarred hands pricked by the thorns.
But you still smiled,


And through the ebony paints of the night,
I heard the soft songs of a nightingale.

I.
Dust danced with the light's rays, slicing through the tilted blinds of the window. The rays gently tickled the man's skin, and he blinked to reveal his deep brown eyes. He grumbled a bit under his breath, languidly bringing himself to his feet. He brushed golden locks away from his eyes, gently rubbing the back of his head. Seifer allowed air to seep into his lungs in a steady breath. The air was musty. He hated anything congested or murky looming in his presence. It crept soundlessly, blanketing his eyes in a sad loneliness; he couldn't see. He wished he could simply walk away from them, but just as he thought his eyes met clear air, white mists folded before his eyes again.

But he would walk anyway.

What the hell is wrong with me...

He muttered a few jumbled curses under his breath before shoving the wooden door and entering the sidewalk paths of Balamb Garden. The wind gently caressed his hair, and the blossoms by his side smelled of sweet nectar, but Seifer took no mind to it. He just simply walked for the sake of walking. Sometimes just laying the mind to rest spurred some sort of peace or at least a compromise with it.

He thought about talking to Fujin or desperately enough, Rajin. But what the hell could they do? Rajin could jump up and down zealously, clutching a putrid smelling trout in his hand. Fujin... yes Fujin was devoted, and at times he thought that she could understand the bitter emptiness swirling about in his gut. But she was far too cold to offer him any shred of light; she was too much like him. But something told him that there was something else that caused those invisible wounds, something far too deep-rooted for them to understand.

Wind blew against his gold hair.

Damn this wind

It softly whistled its way, ruffling the leaves in a sort of empty dance. The emerald blades allowed the wind to drag, pull upon them and then suddenly release its hold. They drooped alone. Seifer continued his walk. It didn't seem to do much good; everything around him smelt of loneliness, something lost and infinitely sorrowful.

His eyes met sapphire pupils, curiously glancing at a flower lying in her delicate hands. She fingered it tenderly, the cream petals of the blossom soaked in gems of dew. Seifer in response simply squinted his eyes in disgust.

"Damn Trepe,"he mumbled in annoyance but not without a trace of regret.

"Hello, Seifer." she coolly replied, continuing to finger the flower.

Seifer rolled his eyes, his steps rhythmically vibrating on the stone pavement. Damn Trepe. She always held a certain artificial tenderness in her eyes, always appearing as if she cared. Bull, pure bull. She pretended to care, only to earn respect, to elevate herself in social standing. She didn't care. Why did she have to ruin everything?

A distant voice mumbled in disagreement, but Seifer readily laid it to rest, continuing to walk away. Trepe glanced towards Seifer; a thin sheet of sorrow subtly entrenched her eyes as she continued to gracefully finger the cream rose. The wind whispered once more, delicately picking a single petal from the flower, offering it to the hands of the tired warrior. Seifer glared at the petal in his hands; he clenched his fist, about to crumble it in his very hands, but...

It was so soft.

Damn wind.

The wind too was soft that day and the air carried a scent of vanilla musk, something of a fairy tale only known in dreams. But then again, it was a faint fantasy embedded in a nightmare... five years ago. Flashes folded themselves before his eyes...


II.

***

A whipping crack echoed from the dark corridor. He heard an angry roar again; a faint whimper echoed from the boy's lips, but he dare not cry. That would make his daddy very mad.

A crimson trail slid down his lip; a tear intermixed with the scarlet rivulet. His mommy had already gone. He'd never gotten to see her eyes. Maybe they would have been warm; maybe they wouldn't be filled with flames. A similar thud crashed his shoulder once more. It didn't hurt so much now. He felt a slight amount of pressure against his back, but maybe his daddy wasn't mad at him now. Maybe he was hugging him tenderly- like his dream.

There were puffy white clouds filling the air, and in a meadow his father would embrace him, just about to whisper the words, "I love you." But just as the words were to echo from his lips, they slanted darkly into a sinister smirk. The white clouds darkened to ebony, and all he could hear was the pounding beat of his heart. And all he could see was hate. All he could breathe was hate.

The breaking blows on his back softened, and he could hear the clattering heels of his father's boots take him outside. The boy's sapphire eyes were heavy now. His body was numb, his mind floating in a languid mist. He heard screams behind the cold, wooden doors and his father's voice trembling with rage-

"....money?! ...." he couldn't quite distinguish the words, but something told him it was better off like that. Steel clattered against metal, wood, flesh. Screaming. They always screamed. But underneath the broken beats of his heart, he could faintly hear the soft melodies of a bird-a wordless song. And within the cold room as he heard howls and bullets break the air, the soft melody caressed him, embraced him.

The blond child scurried to a random corner, collapsing with drapes of darkness, strongly clutching those diminishing notes. The notes were softer and softer as his eyes closed before him; but he could still hear them.


Tire wheels grit against rocky pavement, sentiments randomly swirling and swirling about the air. The boy groggily opened his eyes; a woman smiled tenderly towards him, gently letting her hands touch his face. The boy blinked curiously; there were many questions he had left to ask, but his head throbbed, a thousand knifes piercing his veins.

He simply whispered, "Mommy? Am I in heaven...?" His eyes grew foggy once more, and the soft notes of the bird still echoed through his veins.


Deep brown eyes opened to light once more, and a woman kindly sat in a chair by the side of the boy.

"W-where am I?"

"In an orphanage-your new home."

"Home?"

"Yes...you can meet the others outside when you're able to-"

"W-what happened?." The woman simply smiled, a grave sorrow washing beneath that upward curve.

"Nothing."

"Um...what's your name," the child asked, confusion flickering in his eyes.

"Edea, and you?," she replied kindly.

"Seifer." he replied curtly. The woman slowly nodded her head, silently closing the door as she left. She looked back once, eyes sparkling with compassion, perhaps to leave one mark of warmth to the tired youth in bed. Seifer smiled sadly and sat erect, glancing at the window at his side. Dust played in light beams, clouding warm rays. He sat there for some time, simply staring at the particles, thinking.

--

Golden locks hugged a pretty face, blue eyes emitting with a calm happiness. Quistis smiled warmly, leaning against a weeping willow, letting her fingers run through the blades of grass at her side. News was that a boy was joining the quaint orphanage. She was lonely in the orphanage- her companions were nice of course, but they all hid so many emotions, masking them with an artificial smile. Well, she didn't blame them, but it was becoming harder and harder each moment to cope with solitude...so she simply tried to forget. But she was tired of being lonely. Every night she would sleep against a soft cushioned bed, staring blankly at the bare ceiling above her. She could faintly hear giggles echoing from the bunks next to her, but they weren't sincere. Those types of laughs tried futilely to blanket some sort of sorrow. Quistis was starting to do the same, but a constant prickle ripped through those sheets. She didn't know what quite made her think to find hope in this new boy ...maybe she was too lonely. Maybe she so desperately wanted there to be a chance that she even spoke over her own common sense. A heavy sigh left her lips. She stared at a blade of grass once more. She didn't notice the drops of diamond dew dripping down its side.

--

The blond boy finally willed his legs to the floor, cautiously walking to the gardens outside. His brown eyes caught children running past him enjoying a game of baseball, paying no heed to his presence. In a sense, he liked it better that way. At least he wouldn't reek of blood, feel the horrid sensation of bursting veins oozing that crimson liquid.Blood, father...

A black ball rolled down a nearby hill, gracefully dancing towards his ankle. Seifer knelt down, allowing his arm to strike the ball back over the hill; the ebony sphere sliced a straight path through the air and disappeared. Seifer glanced over the hill for a while. He stared at his hands once more, tracing the lines of his palm and the thick knuckles surrounding his fingers. He never knew he could throw like that; he never knew his arms could thrust with such power...His father never told him about this, never cared about this-

And a familiar shove pounded against Seifer's back.

No...it can't be- he's not here, not here-

His own deep brown eyes peered into another set of irises of the same hue. It was a boy. He skin was a trifle pale, his brown hair tangled as a tuft of weeds, and his eyes... his eyes were so... cold.

"So you think you're so special- throwin' a ball like that? Wanna show off or sumthin, punk?" Seifer breathed deeply. The boy's eyes, they were so familiar; the very hue of them, the cold mist flickering within them were so much like his-his father's...

Seifer remained still, quiet.

"You think you're all that, but ya wanna know the truth! You're useless! You can't do shit even if you wanted to," the boy sneered.

Seifer replied again with silence.

It's never enough dad. "So you're not gonna speak, eh? Too weak, too stupid to do shit," the boy smirked, letting a hand loaf easily in his pocket. I was always nothing to you.

The brown-haired boy sneered again, allowing a blow to whip Seifer's gut once more, his eyes slanting deviously with that same contempt...that same condescension.

"Why," Seifer whispered angrily, clutching his hands into a fist.

"What kind of stupid question is that! Who is a weak person like you to say what I do...."the boy growled, a certain trace of sadness in his voice.

Stop it father... stop it. STOP! He allowed his hand to thrust towards the blond boy's abdomen now.

But he felt a tight grip press against his blow, and he reeled backwards, falling on the ground with a loud thump. The boy's eyes glared widely, rage boiling in his veins.

"No, I'm not the one who's weak," Seifer hissed, shoving his hands into his pocket. A watery film slightly wet his eyes- a tear of sympathy, but he didn't notice.

--

Sapphire eyes quietly viewed the brawl alongside the sloping hills of the orphanage. Yes, that Gabe was troublesome, constantly beating and taunting others. But the manner in which his brown locks drooped over his face, the way his skin remained gaunt and pale...its almost seemed as if he were ill, forever ill in the soul and body. Quistis felt sorry for him, but even more sorry for the new boy who had to face such turmoil in a new home.

And the blond boy felt infinitely sad...possessing some sort of inexplicable anguish.

Maybe, maybe she would talk to him. He needed a warm welcome at the minimum of course. The golden-haired girl glanced at her side, her blue eyes catching sight of a single white rose tucked in a bush of thorns. She plucked the blossom from its jagged home, a few trails of blood seeping underneath her skin. There was always something painful in every sort of beauty, wasn't there?

The girl walked over towards the boy, gently tapping his back. He sneered as he turned around, as if the slightest touch would taint his very being. Quistis remained calm, carefully offering the single white rose in her hands. Seifer glanced curiously at the blossom, noticing the crimson marks on her hands.

"It's stupid to pick a rose knowing that you'll be pricked," he whispered a bit coldly.

"Have you ever smelt a rose?"

"What does it matter," Seifer replied a bit annoyed, a trace of masked happiness seeping in his veins.

"Well, they smell nice- at least the air smells nice with them around," Quistis sighed. So much for a warm welcome.

"And why give me one," he stated simply.

"Well, you looked so sad..." Quistis allowed the petals of the rose to touch her nose, the sweet scent drifting within her body. Why didn't he wish to smell it?

"I'm not sad," he snapped. He hated pity... what good did it do to feel sorry for someone but never do anything, never try to do anything.

"I was just trying to be nice!" Quistis's usual barrier of calm burst suddenly. She threw the rose in his hands, simply forcing her legs to run in a distance. Why didn't he want to smell the rose? Why was he so rude about it?

Seifer smiled sorrowfully towards the retreating form of the girl, curiously staring at the flower in his hands. He hesitantly allowed it to touch his nose and breathed in the scent. There was something sweet and warm in that scent... something beautiful. He clutched tightly to the stem of the rose.

He suddenly dropped the blossom. Streams of crimson flowed down his hand and he muttered under his breath,"Thorns... "

--

The night was quiet, and tiny white diamonds embedded the sky. The moon was filled to the brim with a silver liquid, and blue eyes viewed the spectacle in wonder.

Deep brown eyes peered at the small girl and hesitantly walked over to her side. He rubbed the back of his neck muttering, "The rose smelled nice."

Quistis's eyes flickered with wonder, but she simply nodded her head, gesturing for him to sit nearby. Seifer slid his hand through his gold locks accepting the offer. She had been nice to him after all... or at least tried.

[Or is there something else?] his mind mocked.

It's nothing he growled back.

"What are you doing here?" he finally asked.

"Watching the moon."

"Why?"

"Just because."

"Oh."

Quistis glanced at Seifer's scarred hands, quietly chuckling, "I thoughts you said not to touch roses if they had thorns..." Seifer didn't reply. Quistis quietly touched his hands. His scars suddenly stung.

"NO!" Quistis shivered back, an expression of fear and wonder mixed in her eyes.

"I just don't' like people touching me, all right?" Seifer breathed firmly.

"Of course not...," Quistis replied coolly, letting her hands droop in her lap. Seifer stared down at his hands for a moment... they felt so warm...as if something indescribably soft had graced them. But his eyes met red scars and the moment vanished.

"By the way... I never asked you your name...."

"Seifer," he replied curtly.

"I'm Quistis," she quickly responded. A burdening silence echoed in the night air... a never-ending solitude. The winds whispered in gentle wisps allowing emptiness to flow about in endless swirls.

"It's so lonely...,"the blue-eyed girl whispered, a cold mist dissipating in the air. Seifer glanced at her curiously and a sort of tacit agreement was reached. For several moments, the two peered into each other's eyes, finding the same loneliness, an understanding whirling within the flicker of the eyes. Pain wrote itself in the very creases of the face, the very movement of the lips, the very way air exhaled from their lungs. No words were spoken, for they weren't needed; there lay a deep rooted pain, am anguish beyond words, beyond tears...

Something inexplicable occurred, a connection between two souls...and for the moment, they let it be like that-letting emotions flow their own course. The two children gazed up at the moon, examining it's fullness, its radiance...and for the time, everything seemed all right.

--

The morning breakfast was particular savory that day, pancakes shaped in perfection, thick syrup drenching the soft pastry in a sugary treat. Seifer sat alone in a wooden table towards the back of the cafeteria, slowly eating portions of the pancake. Quistis saw the blond boy in the distance, gingerly placing her tray next to him. She quickly consumed the food replying with a mouth full of food," Dhis ish goood!"

Seifer eyes darted to her food filled cheeks and her slurred words, a slight chuckle echoed from his lips.

"Whatch's sho funnyy,"she insisted, food still stuffed within her tiny jaw.

"Nothing,"Seifer replied coolly, continuing to consume his pancakes. Quistis shot him a dubious glance, continuing to gulp down the food. She hadn't any dinner yesterday night- so what was so funny about simply eating quickly? Well Seifer laughed, or at least wore some expression of humor... maybe it would be all right after all. The night's events yesterday had done something to both of them, and even though they couldn't quite explain it, its meaning would forever leave some mark in the soul. Quistis wore a satisfied grin, attending to her breakfast once more...

Breakfast like these became a daily ritual for Seifer and Quistis, and for once in their lives, they smiled. Of course it didn't occur quite often, but when it did, there lay a sincere joy in the smile, magnifying the value of the grin tenfold. Occasionally, they would watch the moon together, and all the while they learned confidence- Seifer in particular. He'd never felt such a positive emotion towards himself, and he wished to drench himself in it. Quistis had warned him to stay gold at heart, but the feeling of pride felt so warm; he bid her to take no concern, but Quistis wasn't one to settle her instincts so readily. One morning she questioned the need of this pride and he in turn replied, "To replace something I never had." She wasn't sure of the meaning of the reply, but instead she would simply tug her gold locks behind her ears, peer into the anguish swimming in Seifer's eyes and lay the question to rest. He was happy with that. At least he thought he was... Something within him ached to tell her, to pour some of the emotions burdening his child shoulders, but he couldn't bring himself to do such. Instead, he simply took pride in his growing skill of weaponry and sports, perhaps trying to compromise one for the other but failing miserably.

--

Seifer encountered Gabe many times, a growing rage pouring within his eyes, with every taunt slapped in his face. He would often curse insolent remarks about the child, but Mr. Kramer would constantly scold him that such words weren't for children. Along with that, he would wear a sorrowful expression in his face, almost pity for the pale-faced Gabe. He wouldn't speak of anything relating to the boy to Seifer but simply instruct him to behave better around companions his age. Seifer would pay no heed to the warnings, simply continuing to speak harshly of the brown-haired boy.

His father had taught him that.

Once he muttered that he loathed the child, and at this remark Mr Kramer wore a dangerous expression of pain and disappointment. Unable to conjure another method to lay the problem to rest, he asked Seifer to follow him to a secluded room. White walls shimmered with the blinding ceiling lights, and by the window rest a small boy tucked in a soft bed.

The boy's ruffled brown strands fell over a pale, white face.

Gabe?

"He has leukemia, Seifer."Cid slowly stated. The blond boy's eyes widened in astonishment, his legs gently sweeping him towards the room. He let his deep brown eyes rest on Gabe's face; he seemed so helpless, vulnerable; an evident stream of tears burned the sides of Gabe's cheeks.

He's afraid...

Seifer stuttered backwards, trembling slightly at the sight, quickly walking out of the door. Mr. Kramer, let his eyes wander to the ground, his lips curling to a distressed frown, "I'm sorry..."

You shouldn't have to grow up this fast...

Seifer made periodical visits to the secluded corridor, once in a while listening to the mumbles underneath Gabe's breath. The blue-eyed Quistis would often accompany him, concerned in his worry. Seifer in turn would simply stare at the emaciated body of Gabe simply replying, "He's scared."

That evening, as purple, pink, and orange hues kissed the sky, the same words echoed from Seifer's lips. Quistis nodded her head, again hesitantly allowing her small hands to touch Seifer's cold fingers. It was the first time she allowed herself to take such a risk after that memorable night under a full moon.... Strangely enough, Seifer let her warm hands soak the coldness out of his veins; he himself grew frightened of the terrified gasps released from Gabe's throat. The pale boy choked upon air, as if it were sandpaper slowly grinding the throat. He slowly opened his eyes to face Seifer hoarsely replying,"I knew you were here." "Then why?!-"

"My strength is goin' away-I just hafta to say sorry..."

Seifer gulped his astonishment, "You were scared, weren't you?..."

"Yea...,"he paused for a second, "Live Seifer-don't end up like me, try not to," Gabe grinned and closed his eyes to sleep. He never opened his eyes since, and a dry film of water crusted Seifer's eyes.

It was raining outside the following week. It seemed a bit trite of nature to pour its sorrows on days where agony was greater than tears, but nature worked as it did. Quistis walked outside, drops of clear diamonds collecting on her eyelashes. Seifer followed her for the sake of doing just that. She grinned slightly, swirling around in circles, celestial tears gracing her face.

"You shouldn't dance now..."Seifer sternly growled.

"Then what are you supposed to do?" she replied, her cherubic voice ringing the air.

"..."

"Live." Quistis replied quietly. The flicker in her eyes was hesitant, but finally Quistis resolved to hold his hand; her head motioned to the steady raindrops pouring in the garden. The boy shook his head in indecision...but, but a part of him wanted so badly to go with her in the rain. It was the part of him that peered into her blue eyes, the part of him that felt happy with her presence. He accepted the offer, slowly gliding through the watered mud of the garden. And they walked. The soft pattering of the rain felt refreshing against his cheeks, and as he glanced at his companion, he whispered the single word, "Live" once more. The rain continued to fall and it felt as if a sea of warm emotions suddenly embraced him at that moment. Once, he believed there was a place, a limbo between what were dreams and what was real...and there lay hope, a tangible hope--And at the moment he felt he was there, in that realm just by standing there next to her.

Gabe would have feared this.

The rain poured more softly now, and it almost seemed like it held its position in the sky.

Seifer understood Gabe strangely, for he had felt the same kind of fear in his life before...And in the brown-haired boy's last words, he said to live. Seifer glanced at his hands-they were hard. Weren't a child's hands supposed to be soft, tender? The other hand that clasped the girl's hands was remarkably warm though; her hands were strong and yet possessed the lightness of a feather. She was pressured with life's adversaries early in life as well, but she retained what most children were supposed to hold :innocence. Maybe he could absorb some of that, just by merely clasping her hand and walking through this rainy path.

Time stopped.

--

And it began again.

They say after a rainfall, a rainbow striped with vivid colors graces the sky, and a soft blue hue kissed with sunshine swirls in the heavens.

But as the rain subsided, it seemed that the skies turned grayer; the clouds rumbled steadily within the heavens.

A storm was gathering.

A gentle light flickered within a room, two cedar chairs hugging the sides of a broken brown table. A white and black board lay on the table, the figures of horses, kings, queens, and pawns gracing each square. Chess. Quistis had claimed the ivory pieces, and Seifer settled with the ebony. At first, the two carelessly moved their pieces, quickly allowing their knights or pawns to thud on the chess board. But as pieces were sacrificed, their minds gradually fell onto those single figures, as if the world's fate fell within the shoulders of a single move. But Seifer still saw it as a game, carefully moving his ebony pieces in accordance to Quistis's moves. But to that golden-haired girl, it seemed her life was fated in those very pieces. Beads of sweat matted her hair and forehead as she poured her mind to the game.

"Check," Seifer would hoarsely reply. Quistis in turn would nod silently, placing her knight to defend the king.

"Check," he would repeat again, and she would sacrifice another piece in the name of the king.

The game continued in that way, until the only two ivory pieces gracing the board were the king and the queen. Quistis stared blankly at the carved figure of the queen, tenderly touching it with her fingers.

"I can't."

"Do what?" Seifer arched an eye brow.

"The queen-I can't get rid of her for the king."

"Well, you hafta - that's the way the game goes."Seifer replied, a bit curious at her sudden reaction.

"No," Quistis whispered as a clear sheet of salty liquid burned her eyes. She allowed her fingers to catch a single tear, rubbing it in her fingers. Seifer stared at the salty drop.

She was crying.

And he couldn't bear it. It was all right for anyone else, but she couldn't. It wasn't right for her to wear such a pained expression, to carry such sorrow in her eyes. No, she was the one always softly smiling, softly dancing in the rain...

"What's wrong?" he gulped a bit unsteady.

"Mummy did the same thing," she replied softly. Seifer's allowed his eyes to soften slightly to concern, his small cold hands hesitantly touching hers, his eyes asking her to go on.

"Dad- he wasn't a good man...but mummy still loved him."

Why?

She would often see her father leave the house at night, wearing a bulky, black trench coat. She once stole a glance within the heavy pocket of the jacket, finding white powder sealed in plastic bags. She wasn't sure of what it was, but the next night her father would come home with paper money in his hands. Her mother's eyes always carried some sort of sorrow, and she would hesitantly touch her father's cheek with love. He would sneer in response, pushing her away from his sight. Quistis remembered seeing her mother cry silently in her room after such an incident, whispering something about change and...drugs. The blue-eyed girl didn't know what was so wrong with drugs-weren't they also called medicine? One winter night, when the air was particularly cold, the sky particularly dry and somber, she caught glimpse of a bulky man carrying a gun. She was staring at the spectacle from a foggy window, and she wasn't quite sure of who it was. But then she remembered a clattering crash breaking through the wooden door and silver tears piercing the air. The bullets rang through woods, through flesh, and a pool of blood and debris lay on the floor. Quistis simply huddled in the corner of the room, hiding under the bulky drapes of the window. Her breath pounded, and the stuffy drapes pulled over her face as if suffocating her. She slowly allowed her blue eyes to stray away from the curtains, focusing on two figures running into the back of the room. A bulky man roared into the corridor, screaming her father's name, allowing bullets to pierce his skin. Her father felt crimson liquid dripping from his hands, but it wasn't his blood. It was her mother's. She whispered a solemn "I love you" before basking into an eternal sleep. Her father held a stern expression on his face, but Quistis couldn't see the dry tears folding in his soul. Her father forced his legs to take him away.. and he kept on running, too afraid to look back, too afraid to truly see her blood, too afraid to see his daughter's sad blue eyes....But Quistis never knew. She only saw the bullet that had married her mother's heart and the hot tears burning her cheek.

And she was crying now.

"You can tell me if you want," Seifer spoke slowly.

"I-I want to forget,"she whispered.

Seifer nodded solemnly in understanding, simply speaking, "You can forget or forgive...live." A strange sadness overwhelmed his brown eyes, but he tried to lay it to rest.

"H-how would you know ?"she mumbled, tears still trembling down her face.

"B-because h-he," Seifer faltered. He let his eyes rise, meeting her blue pools.

She's crying.

He couldn't see her cry, see those tears burning down her face. And all the while, she thought she was alone. He had known loneliness, he had felt the scarring words of his father, and he had felt the sensation of his own blood streaming down his face. He had known nightmares, but now...now, for once in his life, he felt as if he were living in a sort of dream -one of those dreams where the sky was a bright blue, a place where he could dance on soft white clouds...a place with her. She had to know that she wasn't alone, that it wasn't their fault, that they would be okay...

"He beat me, Quistis," tears threatened to sting his eyes, but he allowed a cool sheet to mask them. Quistis gasped, her trembling hands caressing his small, cold hands, her lips whispering, "It's not your fault."

Seifer blinked, "It's not your fault either..."he hesitated for a second but spoke his heart anyway.

"You won't be lonely, because-"

Quistis wore a curious expression as he spoke, "I'll be here..."

Quistis slowly smiled, gently wiping the tears from her face, softly speaking, "And I will too." They smiled at each other for what was an eternity, and they knew an unbreakable bond had melded two souls.

At least for the moment...

--

A gathering was held in the cafeteria the next week. It was morning, and a cool breeze kissed the sun's radiant light beams. Edea Kramer stood on a wooden pedestal, clearing his throat as she spoke, "We have a new companion here today. I will ask of you all to give a warm welcome to Squall Leonhart...." A boy of the age of twelve quietly sat in a chair next to the instructor. His ebony locks carelessly fell upon his face, and his handsome eyes flickered with mystery, intrigue.

Quistis stared at the boy in wonder, immediately sensing a strange pull towards the youth. Maybe it was the way the light bounced off his hair, or perhaps the solemn expression flickering within his deep eyes which intrigued her. She scolded herself for acting with such superficiality, but she simply couldn't help it. Seifer saw the manner in which Quistis stared at the new boy, an indescribable emotion of fire overwhelming him. He glared at the raven-haired boy with a strange sort of green sensation flickering steadily in his eyes. Quistis took no notice to it but simply stared at Squall, a bit of a dreamy expression rendering her face.

Mr. Kramer finished the weekly announcements, gesturing for the children to attend the specified activity of the day: an archery contest.

The grass was soaked with rain, and a musty odor filled the air. Seifer grit his teeth, pulling a bow from the equipment basket. Squall did the same, tightly holding the arrow on the string of the bow. He squinted, his eyes focusing solely on the red central circle of the board ahead of him. He quickly let his arrow fly, and it sliced through the heart of the wooden board. Quistis smiled, approaching the handsome Squall, congratulating him on the well-aimed shot. He in turn smiled shyly, thanking her for the compliment.

Seifer let his fingers tangle through his golden locks, growling, "I can do much better than that!" Squall quizzically arched an eyebrow, a bit shocked from the rage burning in Seifer's eyes. Seifer squeezed his eyes, focusing on the target with a flaming beat of the heart. His arrow split the center, hacking Squall's previous shot in half. Quistis didn't reply, simply staring at Squall's hair and admiring his handsome face. Her heart continued to scold herself, but her eyes never faltered from his image. Strands of contempt tied Seifer's veins, and the archery match continued, heat pounding within Seifer's very being.

It seemed that there lay hundreds of splinters of wood kissing the center of the board. Squall and Seifer repeatedly let arrows slice the air, each piercing the heart of the board. Night was swallowing the sun now, and a million white specks dotted the sky. Cid Kramer insisted the game to halt, but both viciously opposed such; Seifer in particular. Quistis pleaded them both to come inside the orphanage, and with her gentle pleas they acquiesced.

Seifer mumbled a long string of curses as he went to bed that night. He didn't dance on clouds in his slumber.

--

And he awoke, expecting the gentle blue eyes of Quistis to welcome him ...

But-

he only saw dust bounce with the light of the window.

A short wisp of pain whipped within him as he approached the glass window. He squeezed his hands into a ball, his eyes intently watching the activities outside; it all looked like a picture, the window serving as the frame, the laughing chants of the orphans the painting itself. Two to be exact.

A blue-eyed girl graced with a delicate frame walked alongside an ebony-haired youth; her eyes seemed so mesmerized by the very manner he walked, the manner he grinned slightly towards her. Seifer growled angrily underneath his breath.

Damn Squall..

With rage in his eyes, he grabbed a soft pillow in his side, punching it until his hands throbbed. He glanced towards the window once more; yes, it all seemed like a picture, except he was simply viewing it, wishing to be there all the while.

In the rolling green hills of the orphanage, Quistis stared towards the window; her blue eyes caught sight of the image of Seifer. She sighed heavily. She had tried to wake him up early that morning, but he simply mumbled in his sleep, growling about how utterly wretched Squall was... Why did he hate Squall so much? Seifer and she were friends, and why would he care so much about her being friends with another boy? But Quistis didn't take to notice the subtle whispers within her that so desperately hoped that he did. She smiled bitterly, focusing her attention on Squall once more. Squall simply shook his head a bit carelessly as Quistis continued speaking.

Seifer turned around, eyeing a dry rose partially tucked beneath the mattress of his bed. He had saved that white rose the day she gave it to him. She didn't know. The cream petals crusted in a brown hue, withered in brittle shards. He stared it for sometime before simply laying in his bed and glaring at the ceiling with his eyes wide open.

--

Seifer grew to lie on that bed more and more each day, steadily embracing himself in cold sheets as she grew more distant. He supposed he preferred them; at least he could never lose cold sheets, and the numbing effect was quite useful. But then again, every moment he saw Quistis chatting with Squall, a strange sort of wound reopened, and the cold sheets would slip away, leaving heated blood curdling in his veins. But he could easily gulp that down. The invincible Seifer wasn't going care about some girl and her feelings. Nope, he wouldn't care.

But then why did he always carry that dry, white rose?

The sky was silver that particular day...No, it seemed more gray. And it was raining. Hard. The heavens seemed angry that day, or perhaps infinitely sad, or even a mixture of the two. A flame burned within Seifer and so he went out to the rain, perhaps to share the same fiery fury, the same sadness.

Heavy clear drops pounded on his face, forcefully sliding down his cheek. He closed his eyes for a second, allowing the rain to take its toll. A delicate hand gently touched his shoulder.

No...

He slowly turned around and opened his eyes; sure enough he meet tender sapphire irises. He sneered.

"What do you want?"

"Why have you been avoiding me, Seifer?" Seifer laughed bitterly in response.

"Me, avoid you?" A certain pain flickered in Quistis's eyes; she knew the truth very well...she just didn't want to speak it.

"Tell me, what am I to you," Seifer growled underneath his breath. He could never depend on anyone in his life; they all just ran away, forgetting that he ever existed, just another scent whipping the air in a fleeting moment. He wished they cared. He wished thatshe cared, but he couldn't' tell her that, he couldn't wait for her.

"Y-you're a friend Seifer, and you're really important to me," Quistis dared not speak anymore, much to afraid to lose any shred she had with him. But she already knew she lost him...

"Friend...you say a friend?" he muttered bitterly.

"You're important to me."

"Rotten eggs are important to you. You never did care- this whole thing was just some kind of act you pull with every other guy, isn't it?" he replied darkly.

A single tear rolled down Quistis's cheek. Or was it the rain? Why couldn't he understand that what they had between them was special, unbreakable? Why...? How could she tell him? How...?

Seifer angrily pulled out a dried, browned blossom and threw it at the ground. He furiously stomp on it, whooping wildly each time his feet met the brittle rose. Quistis looked down solemnly until he was finished, until he walked away from her. She gently picked up the crumbled blossom, trying to lift it to her nose. There was no scent.

Seifer turned away- his feet felt like air.

He was running.

Within the traces of warmth still faintly flickering within himself he knew he was a coward for running. But for the moment that's all he could do. He ran, hoping she wouldn't follow, and yet breaking within that she wasn't.

The rain was hard down his face. And so he embraced the heaven's hot, angry tears, still running.

Run...

For a moment he thought he could almost hear his bird's soft song.

Or was it an echo he left behind?

***

III.

The bird's song was stronger.

For now, five years later, she was here.

For every time he had tried to run, she would come back, somehow, sometime.

Seifer stared at the soft, cream petal for several moments, the wind continued to sweep softly on the gift. It seemed to sing a sad and sweet ballad, and through the flicker in Quistis's eyes, it seemed that she heard it too.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her eyes slightly filled with water.

"You never did care for me did you?"Seifer spoke harshly.

"No...I did, I was just so afraid-"

"Afraid of what, Quistis! Afraid of what?!"he yelled a bit harshly.

"That you'd leave too...and that I'd be lonely."

"You are now," Seifer darkly whispered.

"I-I just hoped you would remember-"

"Remember what?!"Seifer scowled furiously rubbing his feet against the ground. Her blue eyes were so sad...He hated seeing them like that, seeing such pain flow in those blue pools- an empty sea. But he had promised himself that he wouldn't care...

"The promise."

"I'll be here..."The bird sang insistently.

"..."

"It's so lonely now," Quistis laughed a bit sadly. Tears started to burn her eyes, and they gathered into a single drop of anguish gracefully falling onto the white rose in her hands. Her hands started to tremble...

She saw fog.

And for a few moments, she saw Seifer.

Seifer, the blond boy with those pained brown eyes staring at her with concern. Tears continued to melt her cheeks and she let her arms swing around the blond boy, sobbing like never before.

She sobbed the dry tears she had held for these five years, she sobbed the loneliness away...sobbed it all away.

And the golden-haired man trembled underneath her touch, slowly tracing her blonde locks, slowly feeling that gentle skin he had missed five aching years.

He wished her tears away...

He wished he could run away.

But some unknown force held him still by her side.

And there he was again, in a place between dreams and what was real.

But he didn't forget to breathe, to live. And for once he was happy he hadn't forgotten.

The bird continued to sing.