Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the two weeks following the SeeD exam, Squall had tried his best not to fret over the results by focusing on his finals. Given that it was the end of the academic year, everyone—even those not in line to graduate—had been preoccupied in much the same manner. Of course, he'd been questioned about his part in the Dollet mission—by Instructor Trepe, Instructor Xu, and even Headmaster Cid—but though he'd been interrogated over and over, he still had no idea whether he'd passed and wouldn't until final grades were released, apparently.

What he had learned through these debriefings was that neither Zell nor Selphie had revealed any more about Ifrit and his abilities, despite both of them having witnessed Ifrit firsthand. At least, they hadn't said anything more to their instructors. Headmaster Cid knew the details, perhaps, but had hardly been concerned with Squall's newfound skills. In fact, his debriefing had been the shortest of all and mainly focused on everything except what had occurred on top of Dollet's communication tower.

There'd been nothing further to do then, except study and wait. Which wasn't so outside of Squall's norm, actually. He'd filled his days with workouts, classes, and exam prep. He'd made a few attempts at training, but booking a private area in the training center was usually in high demand at the end of the term, and given the reactions of what few people had already witnessed his power, he wasn't too keen on practicing in a social environment.

This changed once exams were over, however. While most students had taken to celebrating or making plans for their three-week break following the last of their finals, Squall had done very much the opposite. Both the training center and the library were open twenty-four seven, and with so many students preoccupied with doing anything except school related activities, it'd been easier to find privacy. Especially given that he'd flipped his sleep schedule upside-down, turning the night hours into his most productive.

Instead of working out in the mornings, he'd started doing so in the afternoons, prior to his continued peripheral classes in Balamb City on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays (these didn't end simply because Garden's academic year did). Following, or on days without his off-campus classes, he'd started sequestering himself in the library. Given that there was nothing in immediate need of study, there'd been far, far less people around than usual, which Squall always preferred. And once he tired of his research, he retreated to the training center, where booking private sessions had become significantly easier with so many less students around.

It'd now been two weeks and three days since the SeeD exam, Squall internally preparing himself for the news that his failure would require he take another year of cadet level courses. Which wouldn't be the worst thing, but seeing as he'd already been steeped in advanced classes and was an older student, he was running low on appealing options.

Maybe they'd let him take SeeD level courses if he made a special request.

Supposing it'd be worth asking, Squall sighed as he pulled his earbuds free of his ears and dropped them atop his desk. Sweaty and hot from his morning jog—which had actually been more of a sprint—he ran his hand through his hair and turned to the mirror hanging on the inside of his wardrobe door.

He'd been doing this a lot over the last few days, staring at himself in the mirror. Not due to any kind of vanity, but because he'd started noticing… changes. They were changes that probably wouldn't be evident to most people, but to someone as critical of his physical fitness as Squall, they were obvious. As obvious as his increased stamina and agility, as well as speed and endurance. He could run faster now, and for much, much longer. Though he was currently sweating through his tank top and joggers, he could probably run for another couple of hours at nearly a sprint, and that was post having completed one of the most rigorous workouts he'd ever put himself through.

He'd initially been paranoid that his increased physical capabilities would make working out pointless, that doing so would either have to be so extreme that he'd end up drawing attention to himself in order to get anything done, or that nothing would make any difference. Yet, as he stared at himself in the mirror, he was quite certain that his arms were more toned. His legs as well, and his chest was… wider. Which didn't make any sense, because there was a difference between workout results and literal growth. Yet, his t-shirts were fitting tighter on his shoulders, as were his jackets.

Was he… taller?

Does this have something to do with you?

We are quite spirited in our physical training.

Exercise doesn't make people taller.

By exerting so much productive physical energy, we accelerate our growth.

What?

In order to harness our power most effectively, physical strength is a necessity. Therefore, peak physical form is preferred.

Turning sideways, Squall continued to stare critically up and down his reflection. Based on where his head was lining up with the shelves of his wardrobe, he was definitely a bit taller. Only an inch or so, but still a significant change for a roughly three week period. Even after hitting puberty, he wasn't sure he'd grown so quickly over such a short duration of time.

So… my working out is accelerating my growth? Because of you?

Not accelerating. We are not aging. But we are stretching our limits.

I'm reaching my best physical form faster, basically?

Not best, but desired.

What do you mean? I didn't "desire" to be taller.

Ifrit chuckled, the feeling reverberating in Squall's chest. We cannot outwit our human genetics, little one. But we can work within their boundaries. If we are taller, it is because we would one day be so.

Then I'm just growing faster, like I said.

Because we desire to be physically fit in a certain way.

So then, if being thin and sickly was helpful, I could become that?

Couldn't anyone?

Don't be cryptic.

Another chuckling laugh. Little one's excessive physical activity points us in a specific direction, that is all.

So… if I keep working out like this, I'm going to keep getting… bigger?

He wasn't sure if that was what he wanted. Looking like Raijin wasn't likely to be of any benefit, and he'd probably have to replace all his clothes.

We only grow to fit our desired physicality.

Then this will stop once I'm, what, satisfied?

We were not far off from being so.

Squall supposed that was true. He'd always made sure to be as physically capable as possible. And now, instead of waiting a few more years, he got to be a bit taller and a bit broader just a bit sooner. Which was what he wanted, he supposed. Not because being an inch taller satisfied his ego, but because it meant he was more suited to his weapon. His gunblade had been crafted based on an estimate of his chief potential form, and now he was meeting that potential. A relief, really, as it was harder to predict growth patterns in children without any familial background. But Dr. Kadowaki had clearly configured correctly when it'd come to him.

I'm betting you can't do anything about my eyes.

Our eyes work as they're intended.

The light sensitivity isn't so great.

We cannot alter our inheritance, little one.

Yeah, I figured.

Stepping back from the mirror, Squall supposed there were worse things than getting a growth boost from a fiery demon monster. Grabbing up his bathroom basket and robe, he headed out to the communal showers to get cleaned up. He then returned to his room, toweled himself off, and pulled on a black t-shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans. He lastly slipped on his boots, pulled on his jacket, and left for the library.

He'd be out past curfew, but wouldn't have reason to return to sleep until the dormitory opened back up in the morning. Until then, he'd preoccupy himself with his research and the training center.

Having reserved a table in the back corner of the library for the next few weeks (there'd been next to no competition after finals had passed), he'd set up a sort of study center, wherein he was reading about and taking notes on three particular subjects: One, the back side of their planet, though he was having a hard time finding anything concrete on this topic; two, SeeD para-magic and CF usage, which was one of his more fruitful endeavors given that he now had access to a much greater variety of texts on the subject, since passing his field review; and three, any and all records of giant monsters being used in combat. This last one often led him off the deep end into legend and fantasy, but there was truth even in myth, so he kept reading in the hopes of finding any trace of something similar to Ifrit, or even the thunderbird, Quezacotl. Yet, on this topic, he also found the Balamb Garden library to be lacking.

Still, he was intent on understanding as much as he could, and so dropped himself down into his chair as soon as he arrived to commence in his search. From what he'd gathered so far, he'd come to a developing conclusion on each topic: firstly, humanity knew absolute shit about the back side of the planet. Expected, but still disappointing. Next, he'd established that, though his power was significantly vaster than most CF estimates, his connection to Ifrit worked in much the same manner. Though CFs and whatever Ifrit was were different in some respects, they still had fundamental similarities. Due to the fact that everything he was reading was specifically about CFs and their para-magic, and not whatever he had going on, he had to draw a lot more conclusions in this part of his research than in any other, but it hadn't gotten to the point of yet becoming frustrating. And, lastly, he'd decided that if there'd ever been any record of beings like Ifrit, they either weren't anywhere to be found in Balamb Garden's library or had been wiped clean away. Which wouldn't be so troublesome if Ifrit wasn't so bothered by it as well. According to him, the last time he'd been active, the world had been well-aware of "guardians" such as himself, as well as others like him.

So why wasn't there any evidence? It was very strange, and left Squall exceedingly puzzled. But then, there wasn't much history of any kind from before the modern era in Balamb Garden's library. Myth and legend were sparse as well, none of the histories he found stretching back more than two-hundred years. And of the less precise accounts from further back, all he could really find were studies on different religious rites and cultural practices, nothing… specific.

Humanity is quite adept at destruction. Or so Ifrit said as Squall once again opened a book about various religions across the globe only to find it full of modern studies and assumptions.

"What do you mean?" Squall muttered aloud to himself, continuing to read with his cheek propped in his hand.

Though there has not been a time we can recall where we were completely unknown, there have been periods where humanity has been ignorant of its own history. Perhaps that is where we currently find ourselves.

"Because we destroyed it all?" Squall asked and flipped a page.

Perhaps. Or little one has simply not been exposed to enough of the world.

He said as much with a great deal of gentleness, like he expected Squall to react poorly to his assessment. Which was probably fair, and caused Squall pause in his rising offense—likely as Ifrit had intended.

We are not at fault for our sheltered upbringing.

Leaning back in his chair, Squall slammed the religion book closed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

"You have a round of secret exams you're preparing for back here?" It was Instructor Xu's voice, Squall flicking his attention to where both she and Instructor Trepe had walked around a set of bookshelves and were making their way over. They were both wearing their formal dress.

Leaning forward on the tabletop, Squall pursed his lips and didn't satisfy her with a response. Instead, he silently watched them, wondering what he'd done to deserve being bothered by two instructors when classes had long since ended.

"You've got at least ten books here, all of them stuffed with notes," Instructor Trepe commented as she picked up the nearest one. "'Mysteries of the Other Side,' hm? Bit fantastical, isn't it? Entertaining monsters and myths from the back side of the planet?"

Squall just stared at her and, very flatly, asked, "Can I help you with something?"

"Ever the charmer, this one," Instructor Xu said, smiling to herself. "We spend the whole day hunting him down and this is the attitude we're greeted with."

Squall was not amused.

"You can, in fact, do something for me," Instructor Trepe said as she dropped his book back upon the stack where she'd found it. "I've come with orders."

Squall frowned.

"Well, they're not so much orders as they are instructions," she corrected and held up the manila envelope she'd previously had stuffed under her arm. "I have your final exam results, Mr. Leonhart."

Startled some by this announcement, Squall sat up straighter. "You said they'd be delivered to our dormitory mailboxes." He'd been checking his every morning and night.

"So I did," she agreed. "And most students in your graduating class got theirs this afternoon. Except for you and your class salutatorian."

"Those results we have to deliver personally," Instructor Xu added.

Squall glanced between them suspiciously. "Why me though?"

"That's cute," Instructor Xu said as she side-eyed Instructor Trepe. "He's not putting the pieces together."

"Because he knows it'll get him all kinds of attention, and he hates that."

"Ah, of course."

"Just tell me," Squall snapped.

"Isn't it obvious?" Instructor Trepe asked as she dropped the envelop on the table in front of him. "It means you're valedictorian."

Staring down at the envelope, Squall took a few seconds to digest this news, before uttering a very unimpressed, "Oh."

Instructor Xu shared another look with Instructor Trepe. "'Oh?'" she mocked.

Instructor Trepe shook her head and was very defeated.

"That means I passed the SeeD exam, right?" Squall asked as he glanced back up at them.

"You can't be class valedictorian if you didn't," Instructor Xu made clear.

Squall flicked his gaze back to the envelope, pretending like this news didn't drop a wave of dizzying relief down his whole body. Instead, he said, "Alright," and pushed the envelope aside for inspection once they'd left him alone.

He'd made SeeD then. He'd graduate, finally. After all these years of work, he'd done it.

Was it really so simple? It felt almost… too simple. Not easy, but… lackluster.

We are not pleased?

Squall… wasn't sure how to feel, he realized.

"He said 'oh' and 'alright,'" Instructor Xu mocked. "He's valedictorian and doesn't even care."

"You could open the envelope, Squall," Instructor Trepe urged.

"I will," Squall replied. "Later."

Instructor Xu scoffed.

"Well, then, 'later,'" Instructor Trepe said rather sharply, "you'll find out that you've also been awarded the Silver Medal of Valor for your conduct during your SeeD exam."

Silver Medal of Valor? He knew there were two medals of valor—silver for cadets, which was rarely bestowed as they didn't often perform in a manner deserving of such an award, and gold, which was relegated to SeeDs.

"But I didn't follow orders," Squall said by way of responding.

"You followed your squad leader's orders," Instructor Xu determined, "and in so doing, apparently saved the lives of one of your own squad members, another cadet, and likely dozens of Dollet civilians by putting yourself in harm's way."

"Well…" Squall slumped in obvious discomfort. "Okay."

Instructor Xu actually laughed at him.

"You'll be formally awarded by the Headmaster during your graduation ceremony," Instructor Trepe continued, an announcement that caused any of Squall's previous relief to instantly evaporate. "Before your valedictory."

"Before my what?" he asked darkly, his whole body going rigid.

"Before your speech," Instructor Trepe clarified quite happily. "You're valedictorian. You have to write and give a speech during the graduation ceremony."

Squall just stared at her, finally beginning to feel something now. Shock and horror, mostly. "I'm not doing that," he made perfectly clear.

"Oh, yes you are," Instructor Trepe said quickly, even going so far as to point sternly at him. "You're one of the most celebrated cadets to ever reach SeeD. You will write a speech—and it will be a perfectly civil speech—and you will graciously accept what is a very, very high honor directly from the headmaster."

"I won't," Squall maintained, nearly adding, "and you can't make me," but stopped himself short, supposing that would sound rather childish.

"You will," Instructor Trepe repeated, putting her hands flat on the tabletop as she leaned closer. "You will get up on that stage and you will say nice, inspirational things, understood?"

"I am not doing a speech," Squall maintained, hoping his rising distress wasn't as obvious in his voice as it was in his throat.

"Yes, you will," Instructor Trepe said, like her insistence could somehow construct such a horrible reality. "You will write it—and I know you can, because you're a very good writer—and you will stand up on that stage and represent the best of Garden in front of all our patrons, clients, and student parents. And the Garden Master."

It just kept getting worse.

Mouth gaping like a fish, Squall's voice dropped as he said, somewhat weakly, "I can't do that."

"Squall, you baited and fought a massive robotic spider," she insisted. "I think you can write a short, eloquently written sendoff speech."

But those weren't the same things at all!

"I don't want to hear any excuses," she added with a tone of finality. "Graduation is at the end of the week. Write your speech and have a draft to me by Thursday morning, alright?" Leveling him with another severe look, it was clear she wasn't going to hear any further objections. Not that Squall could form any, given how closed up and dry his throat had become.

"Remember," Instructor Xu said. "Make it inspirational."

"And be nice," was Instructor Trepe's final order. They both then stared down at him for a few more seconds, before finally turning and heading back around the bookshelf the way they'd come.

Squall, meanwhile, was far more rattled in that very moment than he had been at any time during his SeeD exam.

We are frightened. Very, very frightened.

"Fuck," Squall muttered, hands nearly shaking as he placed them spread atop the table. "Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Fuck!" A speech?! In front of… hundreds of people?!

No way! No fucking way!

Grabbing hold of his envelope, Squall ripped it open and, rifling through all the paperwork, hoped for some kind of list of other students also getting awards. But everything inside pertained to only him, leaving his gut twisting even worse than it had when he'd been nearly sick on the boat to Dollet.

"Oh, fuck," he repeated, pausing some in his seat as he tried to gather enough of his thoughts to come up with a plan. "I… need to do something." Standing, he banged his knees under the table, swore loudly enough to draw in the attention of the only other student nearby, and bolted from the library, envelope in hand.

He wasn't sure where he was going or what he was looking for, but he'd get there and he'd find it. That was the only option at his disposal.

Unfortunately, or perhaps to the betterment of his frantic mind, he was pulled up short as he exited the library. Standing there on the steps leading down onto the main path were Instructor Xu and Instructor Trepe again, as well as none other than Seifer.

"I wouldn't have expected to see you hanging around the library with finals over and done with," Instructor Xu was saying, standing a step or two up from Seifer. "You're usually off the island by now."

"Well, I would be," Seifer assured with a smarmy grin. "Only, I haven't gotten my exam results yet. In fact, that's why I was looking for you, my dear instructor." He turned his attention to Instructor Trepe. "Was wondering how long you intended to keep us waiting."

"All results have been distributed as of this afternoon," she said, arms crossing over her chest. "I'd try checking your mailbox, just like everybody else."

"What can I say, I was getting impatient," Seifer reasoned. "Can't blame me, can you?"

"Are you expecting something in particular?" Instructor Xu asked.

"My squad were the ones that cleared the communication tower," he reasoned.

"And that's worthy of praise?" Instructor Trepe asked. "Allow me to alleviate you of any delusions. Per Headmaster Cid's orders, you're to be disciplined at the start of the upcoming term for your irresponsible behavior."

Though Seifer's smile faltered and his eyes flicked back to only temporarily meet with Squall's, he pressed on with his typical over-confidence.

"That's a bit harsh, isn't it?" he asked. "If it weren't for that spider, my squad and I would be heroes."

"Heroes?" Instructor Trepe snorted out a laugh. "Please. You were only looking for a fight, as usual."

"Now, that hurts," Seifer said and placed a dramatic hand on his chest. "Those are rather cruel words for an aspiring student, aren't they? Not that a mediocre instructor such as yourself would know any better."

Instructor Trepe baulked back at this comment, while Instructor Xu visibly bristled.

"Oh, don't be so stuck on yourself, Seifer," Instructor Xu snapped, voice scathing. "You alone are being charged with taking responsibility for abandoning your assigned post. You have to follow orders exactly during combat and you know that."

Though Seifer's smile remained in place, something in his eyes went hard as he said, "Isn't it the squad leader's duty to take the best possible action? That's what I did."

"Please, calling yourself a squad leader is a joke," Instructor Xu rebuked. "We gave you grace after your last two exams, hoping maybe you'd finally learned your lesson, but you still refuse to get it."

"I get it just fine," Seifer muttered, voice almost dangerous as his smile finally dropped away. "I'm not a machine. Unlike the rest of the cucks at this school, I actually evaluate the situation and make the best decisions based on the circumstances. That's what real leaders do."

"You're not a leader, Seifer," Instructor Trepe said, finally regaining her bearings. "You're a selfish liability and you'll never be a SeeD."

Her claim—which sounded very much like a public announcement of Seifer's exam results—did manage to finally kill the last remaining dregs of Seifer's arrogance. Once more, his eyes flicked Squall's way, yet didn't linger. But in the few seconds they'd shared, Squall had seen it: a flicker of fear, or something very much like it.

"Did you really think otherwise?" Instructor Trepe continued, when all Seifer did was stare silently up the stairs at her, his lips pursed tight. "You disobeyed direct orders and, in so doing, endangered your squad and created a hazardous confrontation that ultimately resulted in the deaths of dozens of civilians."

Which Squall thought was an accusation too far. Yes, Seifer certainly had a track record for poor decisions, but putting the deaths caused by the spider directly on his shoulders was somewhat of a stretch. Even though their squad had ended up where they shouldn't have, it was still Galbadia that had set the weapon on them and then allowed it to rampage through the city.

"You've taken three SeeD exams now and done abysmally each and every time," she continued heatedly. "We're still in the midst of debating whether or not you're facing expulsion, so it was never in the cards that you'd make SeeD. And you're certainly no hero. Quite the opposite, in fact." Standing a bit straighter, Instructor Trepe wore an expression of defensive indignation as she stared down her nose at him, before lastly pushing her glasses up on her nose and marching past him down the stairs.

"Your evaluation is in your mailbox," Instructor Xu said to him as she trailed Instructor Trepe. "I suggest you take it to heart, assuming you still have a place here at all."

With that, she stalked off as well.

Watching them go, Squall said nothing, instead holding his envelop tight in-hand as he loitered somewhat stupidly just outside the library doors. While Seifer, hie gaze trained on the stairs, visibly ground his teeth together. And so they stood for some long, heavy, bloated seconds in silence, the setting sun casting an orange sheen across the sky overhead.

"Well," Seifer eventually started as he climbed the rest of the way up the stairs. "If I'm the fuck up, then I guess that makes you the shining star."

Squall scoffed, his envelope crinkling some in his hand. "You had to have expected this."

"It is pretty typical," he said, hands in his pockets as he prowled closer and leaned in with a sardonic smile. "Even when we're both screwing around, you always escape with a goddamn blue ribbon in your hair."

"Don't pin this on me," Squall told him strictly. "They were your orders."

"And you followed them," Seifer countered. "Funny though, I get the feeling that if it'd been the other way around, you'd still be standing here an exceptional, mindless example of a perfect little soldier."

"I'm not mindless," Squall said coldly. "And I'm not a soldier."

"You're Cid's little soldier," Seifer accused and poked him hard in the chest. "His prized orphan; his pride and joy. Doesn't matter the rules you break, because you've always been the favorite."

Eyes narrowing into a glare, Squall shoved Seifer's hand away. "I never asked to be."

"And yet it's true—you don't even deny it. It's been that way since we were kids and Cid dragged us into this dump. Though, I've always wondered why, because as far as I can tell," Seifer raised his arms in a rather defeated manner, "you're just as much of an asshole as I am."

"Maybe, but I'm an asshole who follows orders."

"You do not." Seifer laughed. "You and I, we're always on the same wavelength. Don't pretend otherwise."

Squall supposed maybe that was true. "Fine. The difference, then, is that I don't make a fucking production out of every move I make. If you'd just shut up for once, you might actually get somewhere."

"Where the hell am I supposed to want to get to?!" Seifer asked, staggering back and spinning dramatically as he gestured around the clearing. "This place is a goddamn prison! This—" He yelled up at the sky. "This fucking life is a prison!"

Squall rolled his eyes. "Well, you're probably getting kicked out now anyway."

Turning on him, Seifer said, "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You'll just sail off into the fucking sunset as some renowned SeeD, Balamb Garden's first gunblade specialist. Exactly as Cid wanted this whole time."

Stepping closer to Seifer, and frustrated despite himself, Squall shoved him rather harshly by the shoulder and said, "It didn't have to be this way, you know. It could have been both of us. You're the one who screwed everything up."

"Like that isn't what you wanted?" Seifer asked and shoved him back.

"I don't 'want' anything," Squall rebuked. "You can have your glory and your photographs and your fucking show. I never 'wanted' any part of it."

"And that's your problem—you don't want anything, and yet here you are, with everything."

Squall released a barking laugh at that. "Everything? You think this is everything?"

"Everything we were ever allowed to want."

Squall didn't even know how to respond to that, and so didn't. Instead, he scowled and, head shaking, made a go of shoving past Seifer, their shoulders knocking. He half-expected Seifer to retaliate, to grab him by the shoulder or his shirt and start a fight, as it wouldn't be the first time they'd beat on each other for no redeemable reason.

Yet, that wasn't the way it went, no matter Squall's goading instigations. Instead, as he left Seifer behind and started down the stairs, he heard him clear his throat and say, "Don't disappoint me now, Squall."

Though he paused, Squall didn't look back.

"I'll never forgive you, if you do," was the last thing Seifer said. His steps retreated, Squall waiting until he was certain Seifer had left to finally glance back over his shoulder.

He was gone and Squall was alone.

Staring back at the library only a few moments longer, Squall eventually yanked himself around and kept going, his envelope remaining crinkled in his hand. Now plagued by not just distress, but irrational anger and something like bitterness, Squall supposed he looked about as approachable as the spider weapon that was causing everyone such a headache. Yet, ironically enough, that didn't work in his favor, because what he needed in that moment was, in fact, to communicate with others, not drive them away. A rather foreign concept to him, but true nonetheless.

Yet, what was he supposed to do, approach everyone he met and ask if they were part of the newly graduating class of SeeDs? Yeah, right—he'd never get any answers that way.

What he needed were students he knew were graduating, like…

Like the other members of his squad, more than likely. Nida, Zell, and Chloa. If he had made SeeD, then there was a good chance they had too. Especially if Seifer was being held responsible for everything that'd gone wrong.

But what were the odds they were even on campus? And if they were, where was he likely to find them?

Growing more and more discouraged, especially given that his only real options were to walk aimlessly around campus in the hopes that he'd run into one of them, Squall was on the verge of creating a mental map of where he should start when, lo and behold, he heard someone calling his name.

For the first time since meeting the other boy, Squall was thankful for Zell's noisy, nosy presence.

"Squall!" he shouted again.

Bracing himself, Squall turned and watched as Zell jogged up to meet him. He was wearing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, his hands wrapped as if he'd only just been training.

"Dude!" he started, somewhat winded as he wiped sweat from his brow. "I've been trying to talk to you since the SeeD exam! You avoiding me?"

We avoid everyone.

If we can help it, yes.

"Which I don't get if you are," Zell continued, frowning now. "You're the one that bailed on me the night of the exam, remember?"

Was Squall supposed to feel bad about having done so?

Whatever. Didn't matter.

"Zell—"

"But that's all over and done with," Zell plowed on. "I gotta tell you about what happened when I…" He dropped his voice to a whisper. "When I showed the headmaster that crystal we found in the cave. You remember the one?"

Of course he remembered! But that was very much not Squall's current concern. "Look, Zell—"

"He let me keep it, can you believe that?" Zell hissed, leaning in closer. "So I get to have a CF and a GF."

"Zell, will you—A what?"

"Oh, GF," Zell said and grinned. "That's what I've decided to call her, because she refers to herself as a 'guardian.' I'm not entirely sure what she's supposed to be guarding, because she's not always very coherent—she gets kind of distracted sometimes—but anyway, I thought, since we already have companion forces, then this other variety could be called guardian forces. Or GFs for short."

"Alright." Squall… really didn't have time to be worrying about all that. "Fine, whatever. Listen, did you get your exam results?"

"Oh, yeah!" Zell said, expression brightening. "I got a look at 'em just before I went to work out. You and me are gonna be the best SeeDs out there, especially since we both have—"

"Then you passed?"

"Well, yeah. I don't think the headmaster would have let me junction my GF if I hadn't—"

"Do you know who the class salutatorian is?"

Zell finally took a moment to pause, a look of confusion crossing his face.

Annoyed, Squall clarified, "The student with the second highest overall scores."

"I know what a salutatorian is," Zell snapped. "And no, I don't. Why?"

Squall growled. "I need to find them," he muttered, before swerving past Zell and making his way down the path leading around Garden's central building.

"Hey, wait!" Zell was walking at his side within the moment. "Didn't you hear anything I just said? I got to keep that crystal we found. And now we're the only two students in the whole Garden with GFs."

Squall wasn't sure what Zell was expecting him to say.

"They're really rare spirit crystals," Zell continued. "Isn't that wild?"

"I guess."

"We should train together," Zell persisted. "I've been trying to get more practice in, but there's no place in Garden where it's safe to materialize something that big—everyone would see. And, obviously, we have to keep this kind of thing secret, like we're supposed to with CFs, you know? That's what the headmaster said anyway—to treat it with the same discretion as we do our CFs. You don't have a CF though, do you? I only saw the one crystal assigned to you in your file."

"Why are you looking in my file?"

"I had to sign off on it when I junctioned your GF into your necklace before."

Squall supposed that checked out.

"It's crazy though how different the power level is between a GF and a CF. Not that you'd know, but I get how you were able to do all that crazy stuff during our exam now. I mean, I don't have, like, any practice, so I wouldn't really want to try jumping off any cliffs or anything anytime soon, but I can definitely feel a difference. Which makes me feel a little bad because I really like my CF and I don't want to make him feel bad even though Boko and Quezacotl seem to get along fine, except that Boko is more like a pet and Quez is more like, well, she's not really a pet, but she's not really a person either. I don't know, it's hard to explain, really, because Quez can talk, but with Boko, it's more like feelings and now they're both always tied up with each other and it's honestly a little confusing, but—"

"You don't happen to know where Nida and Chloa might be, do you?" Squall asked, rounding his way up the path toward the quad, because that was, unfortunately, where he was most likely to find the highest population of students.

"Uh, nope! No idea. I don't really hang out with them much. Do you?"

Obviously not.

"Nida was cool I thought," Zell prattled on, "But Chloa was, well, you were there. She always seemed nice in class—we have the same homeroom—but we never really talked much. She was acting totally different during the exam though. I think probably because Seifer was there. Oh, hey, do you know how Seifer did, cuz of everything that happened? I swear, if he made SeeD after…"

Not wanting to discuss Seifer, Squall picked up his pace and did his best to drown out Zell's droning chatter. He set his sights on surveying each and every group of students they passed as they got closer to the quad, as well as any lone stragglers. Unfortunately, Squall didn't recognize any of them. A few he thought looked a tad familiar—like they might be in his homeroom—but he wasn't confident enough to act based on a general sense of familiarity, especially as the frequency of this feeling grew, solidifying that there was no way he was actually recognizing anyone.

Would he really have to resort to asking any students he crossed paths with? That'd ruin his whole day worse than it already was.

"Wait, hold on!" a feminine voice practically begged. "It'll be super fun, I promise!"

"Bro, stop," Zell suddenly hissed and grabbed Squall by the arm, sufficiently halting his march. "Let's go back."

Yanking himself free of Zell's grasp, Squall asked, "Why?"

"Selphie's been harassing me to join the Garden Festival Committee since the exam," he muttered and nodded toward the entrance to the quad, where Selphie—dressed in her formal cadet uniform—was standing in front of a cutely painted "Join the Garden Festival Committee Today!" sign as she made attempts to hand out flyers to passing students. She wasn't having much luck based on the way a group of girls veered away from her.

Eyes narrowing, Squall stared hard at Selphie. If he and Zell had made SeeD, then there was a good chance she had too. Especially given what Cid had previously said of her performance back at Trabia Garden.

"No, don't—" Zell's warning fell on deaf ears as Squall started off again, heading now directly for Selphie. He obviously wasn't very well acquainted with her, but at least knew her name, which was more than he could say of most other students.

Besides, going to speak with her had the added bonus that Zell finally broke away, turning to not-so-slyly go back the way they'd come.

"Squall!" Selphie said, smiling wide upon noticing him and holding up one of her flyers. "Do you want to join the Garden Festival Committee? It'll be super fun! We'll get to plan all kinds of concerts and dances and social events both here in Garden and in Balamb City! We had something similar back in Trabia and I thought it'd be the same when I transferred here, but it turns out that Balamb's Garden Festival Committee dissolved two years ago and no one took over, so now I'm gonna restart it!"

"Sounds great," Squall said flatly.

"So you'll join?! I really need all the help I can get!"

"Sure, whatever. Listen," he said far too strictly, because he had the feeling he'd be in for as much of a fight when it came to getting his point across to her as he had Zell. "I need to ask you something."

Surprisingly, Selphie immediately lowered her flyer and, cocking her head curiously, asked, "What is it?"

And so Squall thought he had an in to get this conversation done and over with as soon as possible. Except, then, she asked—

"Are you okay? You seem really upset." Her eyes fell to the envelope in his hand. "Did you do okay on the exam?"

"Did you?" he asked quickly, disregarding her other concerns. "Did you pass the SeeD exam?"

"Well, yeah, of course, but—"

"I need to know who our class salutatorian is," he made clear.

"Oh, really? Why?"

"I just need to know. Do you have any idea who it is?"

"Sure." She smiled.

Squall waited. There was a pause, until he was forced to ask, "So, who is it?"

Still grinning, she pointed a finger at her own face. "It's me!"

For a second, Squall was caught completely off guard, mostly because he couldn't tell if she was being serious or not. But why lie about something like that? Then again, she was a little odd. But that was perhaps a rather hypocritical thought to have, all things considered. And Cid had specifically praised her performance back at Trabia Garden, so perhaps it actually made perfect sense.

Or he was just so desperate that he'd rationalize anything if it got him what he wanted.

"I need to discuss the graduation ceremony with you," he started, his words rolling along at the same pace as his thoughts, which made him feel a little rushed and off-kilter, but the sooner he dealt with this, the sooner he could stop stressing over it.

"Oh, really?" She adopted that head-cocking curiosity again.

"There's a speech at the end of the ceremony—"

"That's the one by the valedictorian," she said smartly. "My speech is at the beginning."

Squall froze. "You also have a speech?"

"Yup! The salutatorian gives the introductory speech—that's me—and the valedictorian does the farewell speech. I'm guessing that's you." She pointed at him.

Shoulders slumping, Squall sighed.

"But…" she leaned in, "I'm also guessing you don't want to do it? And you thought maybe you could get me to do it instead?"

Staring at her, Squall didn't bother trying to justify himself. Clearly, she was perfectly capable of deducing where his thoughts were going.

Humming, she shifted her weight from foot to foot, before finally saying, "I guess I could do both."

Almost like he'd encountered a rare and very skittish animal out in the wild, Squall eyed her cautiously, not wanting to do or say anything that could upset this development. He was very good at upsetting social interactions, so needed to be extra careful.

"Really?" was what he decided was the safest thing to say.

She shrugged. "I don't mind. You saved my life, after all. Least I can do, since you're clearly terrified at the idea."

Straightening defensively, Squall had to hold himself back from saying something nasty in response. That would certainly do him no favors.

"We'd better not tell anybody though," she continued. "I don't think our instructors would like it very much. I bet I could spin it for humor." She smiled again. "A lesson in delegation from our esteemed valedictorian! A very important facet of being a SeeD."

She could simply not bring him up at all, but perhaps that was too much to expect.

"I don't care what you decide to make it about," he decided instead.

"Just so long as you don't have to be the one saying it?" she asked.

"That is my preference."

"No problem!" She gave him an exaggerated thumbs up. "But you have to help me write both speeches in exchange, okay? Since we'll have to get them proofed by our instructors and they'll probably be able to tell if I write them both."

"Fine." Squall had no issues with a bit of necessary subterfuge.

"Great!" She raised her arms in mock celebration. "And the other thing too."

Squall frowned. "What other thing?"

Smiling even wider, she whipped her flyer up and flashed it in his face. "The Garden Festival Committee!"

Sighing, Squall put both his hands on his hips and cocked a skeptical eyebrow.

"You just said you'd join," she sing-songed.

"No, I didn't."

"And I quote," she cleared her throat and adopted a deeply fake, masculine tone, "'Sure, whatever.' That counts."

Glancing up at the sky, Squall feigned debating, despite knowing he had no choice. Because he'd do just about anything to get out of giving a speech in front of a massive auditorium full of people. "Just one year," he stipulated. "And you can't make me get up in front of anyone," he added quickly, as she'd already seen right through that particular failing of his character.

"Of course not," she said, her expression turning quite serious. "I'd never make you do something that makes you uncomfy."

That was… a nice gesture, he supposed.

"I'll do all the front facing work," she continued. "And you can make more posters!" She pointed at the sign propped up beside them, which was pink and yellow and littered with glittery flower stickers.

"Are you sure someone else wouldn't be more suited to making posters?" he asked, because he wasn't really the "artistic" type.

"Unfortunately, we're pretty low on options," she said. "We don't have very many members."

"How many are there?"

"Well, first there's me." She pointed to herself. "And now there's you!" She pointed at him.

Squall sighed. Again.

"Unless you wanna hand out flyers?" She held her stack out to him.

"I can make signs," he begrudgingly agreed.

"Super! We can meet up tomorrow to work on my graduation speeches and I can give you all my stickers and glitter paint!"

Glitter paint?

He'd finally become a SeeD only to be forced to suffer the affliction of pink and yellow glitter paint.

Just great.