Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Lightning. ❯ Chapter, The Sixteenth: In Which Zell’s Class Centers. ( Chapter 16 )

Eoko: Okay, I’m sorry. -_- If I don’t see Kitty every day it seems, for whatever reason, I seem to forget what day it is, and thus when I have to update this fic. Anyway, since I forgot yesterday and Kit’s away today I won’t bore you with babble. Here’s the chapter.

Chapter, The Sixteenth: In Which Zell’s Class Centers.

Zell was busy spending his Tuesday making a mess of Seifer’s room. Actually, he was busy looking through a large number of books that were spread all around. He wanted to find the simplest explanation for the techniques and moves he was going to be teaching his class.

Of course, he would be demonstrating, so they would see the move, but a straight forward explanation was always useful.

Seifer had left the insane little blonde alone for a few hours to train, coming back to find the room even more of a mess than it had been when he left, and Zell standing in the center, working on perfecting the moves to match the descriptions.

The taller blond leaned against the door after it had closed, watching the little fighter. He always seemed so much older when he was practicing or fighting. He looked a great deal more serious as well. Seifer was sure that after seeing Zell like this, no one would even think to question him.

Half way through a move, Zell turned to face the door. Spotting Seifer he stopped and smiled. “Hey, good work out?”

“Not really. Just the training center, you know. How about you? Have fun wrestling the tornado that came through here?”

Zell looked around and grinned nervously. “I’ll clean it up.”

“You had better, or I’ll leave it and come live in your room. You’ve been at this for hours. You’ll do fine. Now pack these up while I take a shower.” And with that Seifer went into the bathroom.

Blue eyes looked over all the books around Seifer’s room. He didn’t need to be going over all this again. He’d been reading these things for the last four years. He’d been practicing and using the techniques for nearly as long. He’d been in martial arts since he was seven. But teaching a whole class… It was stressful. He didn’t know Quistis had done it, and how she was doing it again.

He started closing the books and piling them up. He could return several of them to the library, the rest he decided he’d keep, just to have so he didn’t freak out or anything over some little tiny matter that really wouldn’t do anything in the long run.

Seifer walked out of the bathroom a few minutes after Zell finished tidying up, a jade towel slung around his hips. “That looks better.”

“So do you,” Zell commented, turning to look over his shoulder. “Grat blood just doesn’t complement your eyes.”

Seifer snorted and walked over to his dresser to find some clean clothes. He dropped the towel to pull on a pair of boxers and Zell, of course, looked. Sure, Seifer was his friend but he was a very good looking man as well.

Zell grinned to himself, going back to the books, sorting them between keeping and returning. They spent the rest of their day hanging out, watching television, going for a walk, Seifer telling Zell he was going to do fine teaching the class time and time again.

- - -

It was Wednesday morning and an unsightly hour at that. Especially when you didn’t have missions or classes because you were teaching one that ran in the evening. Zell paced the room.

Well, he wasn’t pacing exactly. He was heading to his door before he thought better of it and moved back toward his desk or bed. In one hand a little card was trying to avoid being worried to death between his nervous fingers.

Zell took a deep breath, tore a rectangle of tape off of his tape dispenser and fixed it to the top of the card before heading out of his room. He glanced up and down the hall then headed off, carefully to Irvine’s.

He didn’t want to be caught sneaking around there, especially if anyone found the note. But wearing the helmet in and out of his room was just about as dangerous. He looked around the corner of the hall that lead down to Irvine’s dorm… no one was around.

Zell lifted up the little card, looking at it once more before moving quickly down the hall to stand in front of Irvine’s door. Another quick glance around and he stuck the note to the side closest to where it opened, and at Irvine’s eye level.

As soon as that was done he zipped off down the hall and headed to the cafeteria for breakfast. He was almost positive not a single person saw him anywhere near Irvine’s dorm with the note. He could write off any other reason for being there as his common teasing, but if they knew about the note, he’d be in trouble.

- - -

Anasha, and Harada were meeting Irvine at his dorm, and the three were going to head to the quad to work on Zell’s morning stretches in the fresh air. The two girls were chatting as Harada knocked on the door, neither of them noticing the note until the door started to open and they looked up to greet Irvine, white catching the corner of their eyes.

“What was that?” Anasha asked, looking to where the door had disappeared into the wall.

“I dunno,” Harada replied, looking at the same place.

Irvine craned his head around the door, cocking a brow at them. “What are you, like, lookin’ at?”

“Irvy, close the door, there’s something on it.”

Another cock of the brow before he leaned back into his room and hit the button to close the door.

“Okay! Got it!” Harada said excitedly, and Irvine opened the door again.

“I’m almost afraid to read it… will you? Please?” Irvine asked, eyes clearly displaying the desperation in his voice. He didn’t need written abuse from the Blonde Brigade now too.

The two girls leaned their heads together and read over the note. “Who’s Rubedo?” Harada asked.

“Isn’t he that weird guy that sang with his motorcycle hel- hey!” She squealed as Irvine plucked the note from their hands.

/Irvine,
Maybe I’m being too bold, but… I like seeing you.
We only ever meet on a whim, by total accident…
If you, maybe, wanted to hang out some time,
give me a call. Just tell me where and when and
I’ll come find you, okay?
~ Rubedo
555-3363/

Irvine blushed lightly and pocketed the note, looking up at the two girls. He cleared his throat and stepped out into the hall. “So? Are we goin’?”

Anasha tilted her head to the side, Harada grinned, and the two linked arms with the cowboy, minus coat and chaps, and headed for the quad.

- - -

Zell sat at the front of TRA. It was about fifteen minutes until class, but he wanted to be there early, before all the students. Didn’t want everyone to be milling about in the hall waiting for him to get his arse into gear.

The class started coming in at about five to four. Zell was happy to see that they had listened to him and were wearing appropriate clothing, or, appropriate enough. Despite the flexibility they offered, Zell would not chose brightly colored spandex, like the tight-pants wearing guy and a few girls were in. Okay, so he could let the girls off, but Mr. Uber-gay was going to be amusing.

The Cadets and Irvine were the last in, or so Zell thought doing a quick count of the heads in the room. He reached over for his attendance list and began to call out names.

“Amyas Ace, Terry Alfang, Adeline Amarado, Amber Amarado, Dante Anastagio, damn that’s a lot of A’s.” Each named was followed by some way of saying they were in class.

“Anasha Birch, Illo Ditermin, Amaeo Doome, Alyse Eotwawki, Rikan Fawns, Alicia Inglacias, Ken’ichi Yukio, Irvine Kinneas, Mashiro Kano, Sheylan Lancaster, Ricky Morten, Feliz Navidad, Rikusa Harada, Hiro Satry, Takahashi Kinki, Yayoi Kinkuchi.”

Zell looked the list over once more. Everyone had shown up, that was good. “Okay, there are a lot of Centrians in this class, so let me ask now. Do instructors go by your first or last names?”

The last student to be called raised his hand, and Zell nodded to allow him to speak. “Our instructors go by our last names. Only close friends go by our first. And our last name is written first on the roll call.”

“Well, of course. To make it more difficult. So, you’re Yayoi then?” the teen nodded. “Okay, great. If I call you ‘yaoi’ I swear it’s not on purpose.” The class giggled, chuckled and laughed. Yayoi made a face like he’d gone through that for quite a number of years. (1)

“Alright then, everyone into your pairs and spread out, Irvine, you can find a free spot at the front. We won’t need to do any pairs work right now.”

Everyone, including Zell, got to their feet and spread out around the room. “If you’ve had any experience with martial arts, or dance, right off the bat, you’ll have this easier- unless you really sucked during that, and then you’re just like all the other beginners. Girls will have this easier also, because their center of gravity is lower to the ground than it is for men. Short men have a bit of an advantage- yay me. Tall men are going to have problems until they get the basics down.”

Irvine and about five other males in the class frowned. Goddamn center of gravity.

“I want everyone to close your eyes- yes, I know this sounds lame. Do it anyway. Now, slowly move so you are standing on one foot.” Zell waited as the class slipped, fumbled and constantly dropped back onto two feet. “If you’re losing it, try slower. Focus on the three points of the foot on the ground: the big toe, pinky toe, and heel. They are your anchor.”

Most of the class was finding their inability to do this task rather amusing, and really, Zell was too. But it was time to gather them back together for another go. He clapped his hands twice. “Okay, open your eyes and back to two feet.”

“I know, that seemed incredibly stupid and pointless, but it isn’t. It’s fundamental. Watch.” Zell closed his eyes and drew one foot off the floor immediately, not wobbling a millimeter. He lifted onto the tip-toes of the foot on the ground, then bent at his knee, leapt, flipped, and landed back on the same foot. He returned to both and opened his eyes.

“I don’t expect you to be doing things like that, but the key in balance, to center yourself in your surroundings and be aware of them.”

Okay, so now the class was staring too much to pay attention. Another two claps of the hands. “Eyes closed, again. Slowly. Very slowly. Be aware of yourself, of your feet on the floor, of the floor. If one foot gets tired, slowly switch to the other.”

Almost half an hour later, the majority of the class was doing much better with the centering exercise, which pleased Zell quite a bit. The more they did it, the faster they could use it. He walked over to Illo and lifted a hand.

“Touch me and die, Zell,” Illo said, eyes not even flicking open.

“Good,” Zell said grinning. “Good. You’ve done this before.”

“Yes, but I’m not saying where.”

“Ballet,” Harada said, stretching her free leg behind her and upward. She didn’t lose her balance or hit anyone.

“Harada!” Illo hissed at her.

Zell chuckled. “I should call you Rikusa, right?”

“Mhmm.”

“If I need other students to perform demonstrations for me, I’ll asked you two I think, alright?”

“Sounds good to me. Hn, Zell, over to the right.”

Zell looked over to his left, which was Illo’s right, and headed over to the wobbling student to give him a few more tips.

After another five minutes Zell was back in front of the students. “Alright everyone. Open yours eyes slowly. I think you’ll find the room quite bright all of a sudden. Now, since I don’t want to overly bore you with techniques like that, we’ll move onto something more practical.”

Zell pulled out several boxes and stood behind them. “Wooden training swords for those that use sword-like weaponry; skipping ropes for all those following Quistis and Selphie too much; plain, light poles for staff, pole, swallow and halberd users. Shurikens and blaster edges will get frisbees- cool, huh? And,” Zell turned to look at Irvine. “Irvine gets a baton, since all he’ll be doing is pointing it at me.” Zell grinned. “Alright, find you imaginary weapons.”

Zell walked up to Irvine and handed him the baton, eyes laughing the whole time.

“What’s, like, so funny?”

“I feel like I’m five again, pretending toys are weapons. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

He turned back to the class to give out his instructions. “Alright. Here’s what I want you to do. Each of you knock your partner’s weapon from his or her hand five times. Then switch. When you lose your weapon, I want you to do the first thing that comes into your mind, within limits. And please, lose the weapon easily since this is to determine reaction after losing it. I’ll be observing to see where we stand as a group. Ready? Begin.”
Zell went back to Irvine and knocked the “gun” from his hands. The first thing Irvine did was look where the “gun” had gone. “Wrong,” Zell said gently, his hand in a loose fist near the sharpshooter’s face when he looked back.

Irvine bit his lip and went to get the baton.

The second time Zell knocked it away Irvine focused on not looking at it, but was paying too much attention to that to miss Zell’s move again. “Give me a moment to watch the others, Irvine.”

Zell made a quick circuit around the room to catch the last moves of the first partners and first moves of the second. He then returned to Irvine.

The cowboy looked him in the eyes, getting a little fed up with this. Who cared about the baton? He was going to lose it anyway, so he might as well focus on what to do after. As soon as it left his hand Irvine swung the opposite hand toward Zell, who caught the fist in his palm. “Good.”

Zell made a move to Irvine’s right and he stepped away from it without even realizing. “Very good,” the fighter said, and Irvine had to smile a little. Why wasn’t Zell always like this? Instructor Zell was a lot nicer than teasing, bastard Zell.

Irvine pulled his hand back and retrieved the baton while Zell went back to the front of the room. “Alright. Now, all of you either looked at your weapon when you lost it, or wanted to look at it. You look at your weapon, you’re dead. It’s that simple. Near the end you reacted better, but that was because you completely disregarded your weapon from the beginning.”

“You can’t forget about your weapon. You have to constantly be thinking. You have to ask yourselves questions. At what angle was I hit? At what strength? What type of surface am I on? In what direction has my weapon gone?”

He picked up a wooden sword and held it in his hands. “If an attack comes from below and forces the sword up,” he arched it and held it where it would land in the ground. “And you were on terrain that was soft enough, or your weapon was sharp enough to go into, it will stay there, and after disposing of, or escaping from the enemy, you can retrieve it.”

“You do not have to look directly at something to see it coming. And you will feel the direction in which the weapon leaves your hands.”

Zell put the sword away. “Alright, now I want you to put the play-weapons away and line up in a straight line, on the far wall, facing me.”

Zell went to the center of the room and waited for the students to line up. “After this, I suggest you have a long bath, shower, or get a professional massage. I’ll pay for the massage if you go to Relax and Sea in Balamb. We’re going to spend the rest of class working on the roll dodge. It’s pretty much just a summersault where you roll on your shoulder instead of your back. It’s quick and easy to get back to your feet. So, now I’ll demonstrate, once quickly, once slowly.”

He turned his back to the students, took two quick steps and then tucked and rolled on his right shoulder. He came back to his feet, grinning over his shoulder before executing the same move at a slower speed, commenting on where the roll should start and end to minimize irritating the muscles.

“Obviously, if you’re in the middle of an adrenalin rush, you aren’t going to feel any discomfort at all while doing this move. However, by the end of today, you should be fairly sore. Now, I want you all to work on the first part of the roll, which is the tuck, contact and roll to the point you land on your butt. Start slowly, remember to tuck your chin right against your chest, and alternate from right to left. Begin.”

By the time class was over everyone was quite good at the roll dodge, and were rubbing their shoulders, no matter how macho they acted. Zell was smiling brightly and handing out Relax and Sea business cards, which all had ‘Sent by Zell Dincht’ written on the back, ensuring that the bill would be put on Zell’s tab, and that the card would be taken at the counter.

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1. The WHOLE name thing: Alyse is short for “Apocalypse”, Amaeo is short for “Armageddon”, Eotwawki is “End Of The World As We Know It”, Doome is self explanatory. Fawns is “Fucking Arse/Ass With No Sense” because I don’t like him, and Kit also says because he fawns over Irvine. Centrians are from the Almaj Mountains and Lolestern Plains, and follow what little I know of Japanese stuff, and then shit I made up. Ricky Morten is a Duh too as is Feliz Navidad. And Amarado is suppose to sound vaguely like “Amaretto”.