Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Hero ❯ The Evanescence of Fame ( Chapter 1 )

((Feel free to skip this part. I won't mind))

You know, vanity is a terrible thing. I tried to rationalize that I needed to repost this as the majority of my other stories here are continuations of this, and the new readers deserved the whole story. But in all honesty, I did it for the reviews.

For those of you who have read this before, I admit there's nothing new here. I merely compressed the chapters together so people wouldn't be bothered with 11 Author Alerts for something they already read. And the fic is archived, by the wonderful people at Noire Sensus and The Deep End and possibly others as I was - and still am - so flattered anyone wanted to have the thing, I gave it happily.

If you haven't read it before, I should mention that this is the first fic in the Hero arc. "Happily Ever After" follows immediately and then "Once a Knight". The one shots you may tuck in where ever you like. There is yaoi, bad language, mentions of suicide and drug abuse, some violence and all that. You have been warned, unless you skipped this, which is what I would have done.

I don't own them. I would treat them better if I did.

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Hero

Part One : The Evanescence of Fame

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I never denied who I am.

People ask my name, I say, "Seifer Almasy", no hesitation and I don't mumble it either.

Turns out no one knows my name, really.

So.

I also don't deny that I was the Sorceress' Knight. Couple times right after, people would recognize me, call me names.

Beat me up.

I took it a time or two; I let them do it. Felt I owed them, felt I deserved it.

Then I didn't feel like taking it any more.

See, there's a natural order of things, a pecking order, a food chain. Nowhere in the equation was Seifer Almasy lets little pieces of shit gang up on him and beat him to snot.

So I put an end to that.

Okay, a little compromise here. Reality check. The scar faded to almost invisible - I'm a good healer - hair grew out, hair cut changed. I don't wear the trench coat anymore. But if anyone asks, Yeah, I was the Sorceress' Knight, whatcha gonna do about it?

No one's asked in a couple of years, though.

Balamb Garden is still there. Well, here and there, because it travels. They're rebuilding Trabia and (Hyne help us) Galbadia is up and running with even a few Guardian Forces under glass for emergencies.

I live in Deling City. I like the crowds, the noise, the weather. And it gives me a certain kick to pass the Presidential Palace and look up at my old room.

Yeah, the guy standing next to you in line at the grocery store used to command the whole Galbadian Army back when we were half a tick from taking over the world. Remember, back 3, 4 years ago? Why did we not take over the world again?

Oh, yeah, there was this High School kid from Balamb, the one with all the belts. No chest hair, no experience, no idea what he was getting into and no hope of him ever, ever giving up.

Sorry, Squall...

Don't miss the Garden. Glad I'm not a SeeD. Only hung around because I thought there was nowhere else to go. Too much of a coward to admit I hated everything about the place, too much of a chicken wuss to run away and see if there was something out here I might like better.

Still have my gun blade, so I guess I didn't hate everything. Don't carry it around much anymore. Like the trench coat, it was part of a romantic phase I out grew.

Recognizable, too. Why borrow trouble?

But old habits die hard. You hunt for guardians, for draw points as you travel. Memorize where they are. Keep yourself stocked up.

Slip off on weekends, days off, taking the gunblade into the wilds. Kill a few monsters for a little beer money, but mostly to keep the hand in, the edge on. And to draw off them, of course.

Sneak into Galbadia Garden in the dead hours, drain the draw points of curagas, restores, esunas, shield spells. Whisper to the GF's, trapped away. Take 'em out for a spin if they're willing. The GFs eat your memories but Hells, I don't have many I need to keep.

I'm an EMT now. A paramedic. I love it. The physical requirements were a joke, the classes fascinating. All you gotta do is keep calm under pressure, not gross out easily, and stay professionally detached.

As if I ever gave a shit.

That's what the spells are for, although, really, I don't use them all that much. I mean, if a guy has smeared himself and his car all along the wall, a phoenix down isn't gonna help a lot. And if you respond quickly and properly and get the client to the hospital in one piece, then you don't really need the cures, either.

Every once in a while, when a kid might be left an orphan, or maybe it's the kid himself, I whisper a little curaga when nobody's looking.

Help even up the score a little...

... Hey, I have Fuujin and Rajin again. Not the same ones, of course. The originals got out while there was still time, thank Hyne, and are happily everaftering somewhere near a good fishing spot. I'll always have a soft spot for my original posse - after all, I lost my virginity to both of them... But they were made for each other although at first only ol' Seifer the Matchmaker could see it. Okay, maybe the real reason I have a soft spot for those two is that they are one of my few proven successes. I have a picture of Alma in my wallet. Two years old and already a heartbreaker. I sent the entire contents of my savings account for them to set up an educational fund for my little goddaughter. I told Fuu, Law School, Beautician School, anything please Hyne except a Garden. I threatened to teach Alma to turn tricks first. Fortunately Fuu agreed with me. And fortunately for my health, Raj understands my sense of humor, y'know.

My new posse... Fuu is 5'10"easy and about 140 pounds of solid muscle. She moves like a panther. Quiet, kinda like Squall - when she's not talking shop she doesn't talk at all, except the occasional witty/sarcastic remark that can sting enough to leave the scent of ozone behind.

I think Fuu knows who I am, or at least suspects. She asked about the scar once. Well, her exact words were, "Cut yourself shaving?"

"Had a little trouble plucking my eyebrows," I said.

"Try hot wax."

I caught her looking at me after that, with the 'I know you' look. I waited for her to say or do something about it, but it's been over a year so I guess she isn't gonna. I told you, once your nine days and 15 minutes are over, no one cares.

And they say we have memory problems...

Rajin is a good kid, from somewhere in the sticks. Four inches taller than I am and more if he's stand up straight, dammit. He's as thin as a greyhound, all legs and arms and big sad eyes and when he talks, which is always, his deep bass voice rumbles almost incomprehensibly. He's a Professional Grade worrier and can drive you completely insane if you listen to him, which I don't.

We got a call about a messy car wreck and moved out. Raj drives, not well but very fast. Fu is usually shotgun. I'm the one with the extra initials and the license, so I sit in back and check stock.

When we got there it didn't take a rocket scientist to see that whomever was in the red sports car was pretty much a goner. Not a lot of room left in that baby for healthy body parts.

Do gooders and ghouls hovered. Someone had spread flares, the pinkish light giving the wreck a festive look. Raj and Fuu grabbed the kit and ran to the brown truck, where the Everhelpfulls had at least enough wit to leave the victim alone until we got there.

Me, I checked the sports car, just in case the driver was a midget and somehow survived.

And fuck me if it wasn't Squall Leonhart, deader than hell.

I cast phoenix without even realizing it.

His chest heaved and his eyelids fluttered.

Alive. Okay then. Time to inspect the damage.

Squall's legs were pinned under the dash and were pretty much a mess. Although he was wearing his seat belt - can you imagine Squall not wearing his seat belt? - he'd taken a good hit on the side of the head, possible from something bouncing around in the car with him. Squall was covered with glass and not all of it was safety glass from the windshield. I could smell beer and maybe brandy.

Squall, Squall, you know better!

Somehow I got Squall out, casting discrete curagas to keep him stable.

Fuu appeared at my side. "The Other One's stable." She sniffed as she helped me secure Squall. "He's going to jail."

Annoyed, I said, "You don't know that."

"His blood alcohol will be high... c'mon, I can smell the booze from here. He was doing over 100 - and the brown truck has local tags, he's from what is that? Esthar?" All the time Fuu was talking, she was handing me the correct vials, taking notes on the PDA. "As soon as he's out of the hospital, he'll be some happy guy's new roomie at D-District."

I cringed a little at that. It's not like I was really protecting Squall... just avoiding scandal. Payback.

Figuring Fuu knew anyway, I cast esuana on Squall and let her take him away. To be on the safe side, I pumped a few curagas into the old duff from the brown truck, too.

And then, as we pulled away, Squall's car inexplicably burst into flames, with a little help from our old friend Firaga.

No, I don't only stock healing spells. And don't look at me like that. What's the point, now?

So all the evidence was destroyed. Two days later, nothing in the news. I figured I hushed it up - or Laguna Loire and the Gardens did. Either way, my Good Deed of the Year was out of the way and lookee, I've got the rest of Autumn and all of Winter to coast.

I was refilling the packs and turning in reports. It had been a fun filled weekend for those of us in the rescue biz. Rajin was checking on patient status - he likes to follow up on each of "our" patients. I think he writes those near miss disaster stories for Dental Office magazines - you know the ones with the little joke on each page and at least one Heart Warming Sob Story per issue? - If Raj doesn't, he should, because Fuu and I hear each patient's story despite all efforts to stop him.

Rajin rattled them all off, trivia, successes, a few failures to wince over. Fuu and I worked and ignored him until he got down to, "They're sending John Doe over to Charity."

"John Doe doesn't narrow it down much, Raj," I said, not looking up. If he's going to talk all the time, he should at least make sense.

"Exploding sports car? Head on with a brown truck? Mr. Gimmel, by the way, is doing just fine and went home yesterday."

"Why would they send him to Charity?"

"Because," Raj said, shocked I would ask a question he knew the answer to, "he's poor and hurt and they don't know who he is."

"They don't know who he is," I repeated, and it's a sad thing to be repeating after Rajin.

"I guess he doesn't remember anything."

"Can't trace the car, it totally burned up in the explosion," Fuu said.

Was that a dig? Didn't matter, I was on to other things.

Like, 'they don't know who he is.'

Pardon me, but that just pissed me off.

Squall saved the planet, for Hyne's sake. You'd think someone would recognize him! He saved you, and that fat bastard standing next to you, and all the people in Galbadia and the whole world from Galbadia, and me, and from something you can't even begin to understand enough to be afraid of.

Squall saved you all when he was 17 fucking years old and 4 years later no one even knows who the Hells he is?!

No one misses him?

I decided what I was going to do. I scooped up the replenished packs. "Let's get back to the party," I said.

"Too bad about him ending up at Charity," Rajin said, speaking of Squall as he followed me. "He had a real nice car, though, so I bet somebody's looking for him."

"If for no other reason than to get the next car payment," Fujin said, following him.

On my way to the back of the ambulance, I absently brushed my hand over the shiny white hood. Just the faintest breath of bolt curled out. I know what I can do to your VCR. The diagnostic computer in the engine hates me.

We got in, we got settled, but before we can get going, Raj had to dick around under the hood.

"Service engine soon light is on again. Can't see anything wrong, though."

"I don't want to be in the back with a full Code Red and have this bastard drop its transmission in the middle of the road."

Rajin started her right up. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about it."

I didn't have to. Raj worried about it, with a little help from Fuu and her natural pessimism. By the end of the shift, Raj was whining to the boss and old Number 3 was taken off active duty.

Since I'm such a swell guy, and I live right around the corner from the Mechanic's, I offered to drop Number 3 off on my way home. Save me a bus ride, I told the boss with a shrug.

Ain't I the Boy Scout?

On the way, Number 3 and I made a little side trip back to Galbadia General. There I slouched over the counter looking bored and tired until I could nab a nurse who is also tired and at the end of her shift and anxious to go home.

"Supposed to cart John Doe to Charity?" I asked her.

"Paperwork?"

"They said you had it."

She wasn't a trauma nurse, she didn't know me, but I had the badge, the uniform, the attitude. She grumbled around, couldn't find it, and wrote up a halfassed transfer slip and sent me off to fetch John Doe, Room 611.

Squall was pretty out of it, but I hit him with a Sleepe, just in case. Wheeled him out, threw the papers in the dumpster, took him home.

I layed him on my bed and left to drop off the ambulance.

He was awake when I got back.

"Still resistant to status effects, I see," I said cheerfully.

Squall's color was up, chest heaving, eyes flashing. "I have no idea what you are talking about." He sounded out of breath and angry.

Squall actually looked pretty sweet, all vulnerable and exposed in his little hospital gown. He tried to sit up, but he couldn't.

"Get me out of this bed," he said.

Then it hit me. I have an old Captain's style waterbed. High off the ground, high wood sides. Kinda mushy because I'm a big guy and I need a new mattress. And here's Squall, a rigid cast on each leg.

There is no way he can get out of that bed without help.

So there I was, Seifer Almasy, evil Sorceress' Knight with my newly kidnapped major rival mostly naked and helpless on my bed.

It was all I could do not to rub my hands together and chortle.