Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Retribution Nor Redemption ❯ Chapter 1

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

"Retribution Nor Redemption" and the general overall concept of "Retribution Nor Redemption" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2002-2003, as are the characters Kyrie Leonhart and Rodger Kinneas. The characters Seifer Almasy, Squall Leonhart, Quistis Trepe, Ellone (Leonhart?), Laguna Loire and Rinoa "The Great Big Bitch" Heartily (biased? me?) are copyright Squaresoft, as are the terms SeeD, gunblade, Trabia Garden, Griever, and probably a lot of other stuff I forgot to mention. Hell, if you played the game, you know. Enough said.
Background: Well. Here is the "anticipated" sequel to The Sins of Two Fathers. This won't be as much action as it will be psychological warfare, I think. Don't know what else to tell you. Beware bad language, sexuality and social outcasts having fun regardless of their status at the expense of others.

I had that dream again. She typed. She was sure he probably didn't want to hear about it, but she'd tell him anyway. He was her captive audience, after all. She waited for his response while pouring herself some coffee. Squall had been right; it was an addictive form of pure, liquid energy. Who knew energy was brown-black?
Of Hojo's lab? Appeared on the screen with a whining computerized beep.
Yeah. She typed back. Everything was the same. Except this time I think I saw Sephiroth as a kid.She sent the message on with a shiver. As an afterthought, she added, And it was damn disturbing.
The response came faster than usual. As a kid? That IS disturbing.
I can't imagine what his childhood must have been like. If my dreams are anything like Hojo's real lab. She typed, trying to shake the images from her head. It was like every awful horror movie mad scientist's torture chamber; only far too real. Things in jars, half alive, and humans with bits and pieces removed and replaced with wires, if at all.
They are.Assured the screen. Too accurate.
She really preferred not to think about it anymore. She'd have time for that later, during the assembly. How are you holding up?
Okay. But I'm still hungry.
She chuckled to herself. That must be annoying as hell.
Even through the thousands of miles distance, only computers to connect them, the sarcasm came through. Thank you. Your concern warms my prison.
She laughed. I'M not the one that chose to get imprisoned with a psycho.
And I can't even talk to the head. The screen complained.
That's what I'm here for. She joked.
It's almost 7. Her bedside alarm beeped twice to reassure her that was true.
She groaned. Yeah, it is. I guess I'll talk to you later. Try not to get too bored.
I'll do what I can. At least I can read stuff.
She was so incredibly glad she'd given him the computer. Take care, Cloud. She typed while getting up. She certainly didn't want to be late for this particular assembly. She just might be able to graduate with the rest of her class. Gently giving a tug to the little device located in the disk drive, she placed the communication transponder in her pocket. Lucky Cloud; she could use it to talk to him from any system-linked computer. Being granddaughter of the President of Esthar, she had a lot of access codes for a lot of said computer systems.
But, all was not perfect. She still didn't know if she had the grades to graduate. She could only assume that if she didn't, Quistis would have told her already. But then, the Headmaster still didn't like her very much. Mr. Sir Yessir was none too pleased when Quistis made the suggestion Kyrie and Rodger move in together in one of the larger, fancier than average doubles. Kyrie herself was shocked to have heard Quistis actually made the suggestion at all. But she certainly didn't mind in the least. Fact was, the Headmaster had said absolutely not, no way, not in this Garden, at no time. So they simply decided not to tell him.
It was best not to think about that man any more than she had to this morning, she decided. They'd have to go sit through a long, boring... well, whatever the hell. It didn't matter, they wouldn't be listening until the announcement about who was graduating. And even then they'd probably miss that part, so... what was the point? Ah yes, that's right. If you did not attend, you automatically did not graduate. That... sucked.
Kyrie strapped on Eleison and stretched widely. Too early, even with the second cup of coffee. And... where was Rodger? She walked by the bathroom and heard the shower still running. So, she knocked loudly on the door. "Rodger, ten til seven!"
The shower shut off instantly, then several thumps as he leapt out and tried to dry himself off while dressing. "Dammit..." he murmured.
"What were you doing in there?" she asked far too innocently, grinning from ear to ear.
"Planning your overthrow." He joked, dancing out on one leg as he tried to get his pants on mid-run.
"Riding bareback, are we?" she teased calmly.
"Shit." He bounced back in, this time trying to take the pants back off--he'd forgotten his briefs.
Pure amusement. It was a thing they had together. Against everyone. Once in a while another person could share it with them; but it was always the same people, really. No one new, because no one new ever talked to either of them without being forced. They could handle that. They were both psuedo-celebrities and all that.
More or less completely ready, Kyrie simply sat on the bed and watched him go at it, dressing and drying and cursing himself for taking his time and being late. It was far from the first time this scene had taken place. And still she never failed to be greatly amused by it. He impressed her by, for once, not putting his shirt on inside out or backwards, then by putting his boots on the right feet. "More awake than usual, are we?"
He bounced around a little more before answering her, getting everything in relative order before they left. "Just dumb luck."
"Good. We can go with that today." She took a deep breath and walked to the door. The threshold. In a few minutes, they'd know for sure whether or not they'd have to spend another godawful semester being stared at. Or glared at, in the Headmaster's case.
Rodger gave her a tight hug from behind. "Here goes absolutely nothing."
"You said it." She agreed, forcing herself not to get nervous. Not that she had a lot to be nervous about, she supposed. After all, they had people on high authority to vouch for them. But then Headmaster Immorien was "greatly concerned" that they be "treated fairly". Asshole.
They walked out together amid the flood of other nervous students. It wasn't a pretty sight, really. Some of the most confident people were shaking and looking around like lost children. Graduation from Garden wasn't hard, per se, but many of them had hoped to continue their education in various secondary Garden programs in other places. Their grades would make the decision for them.
Kyrie and Rodger didn't exactly have the same concerns. They were less than interested in a continued education in Garden terms. Hell, Kyrie's grandfather was the fucking president of Esthar, they had jobs set up for them anywhere and anytime they wanted. Being graduates of Garden simply gave them some artificial clout among the "high breeds" of the world, frankly. And if they were interested in more combat training, Quistis was always available.
As if summoned, the instructor appeared from between the waves of students, waiting by the doorway to the assembly hall. Through the crowd she pushed, feeling rather that she was trying to get to shore in a raging sea. None of the students seemed to see her, much more concerned with their own futures. How rude, really.
"Quisty!" Kyrie greeted a little louder than usual thanks to the worried din around them.
Instructor Trepe looked dully at Rodger's hair. "Not quite ready this morning, are we?"
He looked up at what she'd commented about, not even remembering to have combed the mess, let alone really dried it. "Um... no."
Quistis grinned softly. "Well, I don't think anyone will notice. Unless they look." She took a quick glance at the rest of the crowd around them, then turned back to Rodger. "It appears you're in good company when it comes to hair style, anyway."
"I'd hate to be out of style." He remarked deadpan.
Kyrie grinned and elbowed him softly. "Do we slip you a few Gil now or what?"
Her aunt giggled and shook her head in mock disapproval. "I only wish I had say in this. I have a good feeling, though."
Those words were taken into careful consideration. Not that Quistis was a psychic by any stretch of the imagination, but she usually had a very good gut instinct. "I hold you to that." Kyrie joked.
The instructor only smiled knowingly. They both had the grades to get the hell out. The only thing that could possibly hold them back was the Headmaster's personal opinion. And should the need arise, Quistis would risk her job for them. Hopefully that would never have to happen, though. Who else would ever hire her? "Well, you two better grab a couple of good seats."
The couple breathed a collective sigh of hopelessness. Given that the gibbering of the worried students was only getting louder, they merely waved to Quistis and walked on. She gave them two thumbs up and waved back, crossing her fingers. She then hoped, seeing them disappear into the assembly hall, that it wasn't a misconstrued gesture... then started chuckling.

They sat in their usual place--far away from everyone else. The hall was meant to hold all students from all classes (though they were already planning an expansion for the next year), so it wasn't hard to find empty seats at all. They still seemed to remain in their chosen place, their very essence apparently keeping everyone at least five seats away in all directions. Not a bad thing.
There was a nervous rush of conversation from all around them as they waited for the lights to go down and the fires of hell to burst through the stage--or for the Headmaster to walk in. It was clear that the pile of rolled up papers at the central pedestal contained many tickets out, and many more right back in. It looked like there were plenty for everyone, but looks could be deceiving. The hall was utterly crawling with murmurs of the ones who thought perhaps they'd been ignored this time around.
And then the clear, crisp sounds of overpriced shoes began from the staff entrance. Headmaster Immorien walked in confidently, his lapdog, Assistant Headmaster Evaan, in his shadow. Footstep after footstep lead the room into utter silence, the entire collection of students watching, waiting--save Kyrie and Rodger, who were silently thumb wrestling to pass the time it took for the bloated bastard to start speaking.
The words from the Headmaster rolled over the room like thunder. "These next few moments may well determine your future."
Hushed awe erupted and fell. Kyrie won twice in a row and was going for the third. Everyone was waiting for a signal, an appraisal, to be told where to go and who to thank for it.
"Anna Arporoe." He called, holding out one of the scripts.
Ah, alphabetical order. Fantastic, they had plenty of time to kill. "Three times in a row." Kyrie whispered triumphantly. "You owe me... a muffin."
Rodger grinned, keeping his voice low. "I call cheating. Unfairness of some kind."
The booming names continued to rattle off until finally the Headmaster shouted, "Rodger Kinneas."
Taking a deeply comical breath, Rodger strutted up to the front and hoped for the best. He sensed the eyes of the whole room watching him, waiting for something to happen. Headmaster Immorien only handed him the diploma, giving his hand a quick shake and sending him on his way.
It was... very uneventful, really. The key out of the dungeon in his hand, and there had been no thunder. No earthquake, no natural disasters, no fires of hell; just paper. Not that he minded. It was his, and he had graduated. He put the rolled piece of paper under his arm, and continued with the thumb wrestling challenge.
After several more matches ("to the death"), Kyrie's name was finally uttered. It wasn't quite what she'd expected, either. Why, Mr. Sir Yessir seemed... what? Relieved? So did the rest of the room, frankly. And she herself was glad for it. Stepping up in her usual ensemble, Eleison included, she held her hand out and smiled as politely as she possibly could. She still hated his guts, his breath, the ground he stepped on and most of all him, but she'd sure as hell shake his hand to assure she'd be getting far, far away from him. Graduating. With honors in weaponry and combat, she discovered as she opened it on her way back to the thumb wrestling finals. Whoo fucking hoo. It paid to have dates in the training grounds. That and learning how to pick the lock on the door when they grew sick of restocking the monsters.
Taking her lead, Rodger ignored the rest of the room and opened his own. Wow, he'd gotten quite the excellent grade in algebra. How the hell did that happen? No matter; he had the diploma in his hand, and there was no way he was letting go of it. Out, they were out. They'd only to wait until the end of the day and it was official. Hell, it was official the moment the assembly ended. It wasn't as if either of them were eager to take part in the actual public ceremony, so why stick around an extra two days when they could get the hell out then?
Of course, they still had to move out of the dorm. That wasn't a big deal. It'd take a couple of days to get the house ready and actually transfer their collected stuff, but at least they wouldn't have to be in class during those times. Living in that house again would be... weird. Especially without Seifer and Squall... but now wasn't the time to think about it. Now was the time to win the thumb wrestling death match all stars challenge of a lifetime.
When all names were uttered that would be granted permission to move on, there were a couple of disgusted sighs. The Headmaster only assured them that another semester would somehow make them smarter and stronger, but most of them were already out of their seats and headed for the door by that point in time. Kyrie and Rodger in the lead, of course.
Quistis met them just outside in a faculty hallway, away from the student mob that was making so much noise that it was hard to think, let alone talk. She was leaning against the wall with a big, proud smile on her face, having heard everything.
"We graduate!" Rodger said in amazement. "We made it."
"And you know what that means." Kyrie attempted to lead her aunt into some sort of private party idea. Few things were more mind-blowing than watching Quistis drink everyone else to shame.
The older woman maintained her elegant composure. "Lots of celebratory rockin'?"
Kyrie and Rodger exchanged a shocked expression. Then she turned back to her aunt with a vibrant grin and stated, "You're such a classy lady, Quisty."
"Damn straight!" she giggled. "I suppose you two will be going out tonight to celebrate?"
"Possibly." Kyrie agreed. "And then we start moving the hell out of here."
The instructor nodded. "Well, let me know if you need anything."
"Not another crate for quite some time, thanks." Rodger could help but break up a little at the end of that sentence.

What was really great, regardless of being quite lazy and meaningless, was just laying there like lumps on the dorm bed, watching television on the same computer screen that Kyrie had originally hooked up. Technically Rodger still lived in the other dorm with his roommate. But he hadn't even seen that guy in well over a year, let alone kept any of his things in there. Life was good when everyone was just a little afraid of you.
"Let's take the Jet to Esthar tonight." Kyrie suggested after a particularly awful soap opera. "I want to tell everyone before they hear it from... well, the rest of the world. Then we can eat."
"Okay." Rodger agreed eagerly. "I like the Jet."
"You like the lingerie store that took over Cloud's old shop, is what you like." She teased. He just stared at her for a period of time in suggestive silence. "Alright. Me too."
"At least I don't spend money there." He threw back.
"That's right." She agreed seriously. "You make a lot of suggestions, though."
Rodger let a smug grin cross his face. "Aw, you just want to see Mr. Valentine." He spoke the man's name breathily.
"Vinnie." She corrected in good humor.
"But you like to call him Mr. Valentine." He continued to tease.
"I'd like to call him a lot of things." She grinned.
Oh, this was getting raunchy. "Like... 'Master'? Or maybe 'slut'?" He winked at her.
"Little bit of both, lovely." She couldn't even pretend to be shocked. This was too amusing. "'Bitch' is still yours, though. Always will be."
"I feel loved." He responded, getting his things together. Hell, they may as well leave right away. Why wait? Thanks to the new Jet train, they could make it there in about twenty to thirty minutes depending on the weight of the passengers. The past four years had seen quite a growth in business on Esthar, let alone in the city itself. So if Laguna or Vincent were actually busy, they could wander around without getting the least bit bored until they were available to bother. Hell, maybe they could even convince Kiros to wander around with them before he finally had a nervous breakdown. They'd tried before, without success. Either way, it might be fun to watch.

With a Jet leaving for Esthar every hour, they arrived right on time to catch the early evening shuttle. Not too shabby for having taken their sweet time in getting there. They even lucked out with an almost empty train, meaning a faster arrival time. With all of this luck, they were starting to get nervous that something was going to go horribly wrong with the train.
Strangely enough, they arrived safe and sound at Esthar Station to the sounds of some already celebrating students wandering around. It was obvious most of them had been to the station's bar on the other end. They gave the drunks a wide berth, making their way down the other end and to the Presidential Estate.
Kyrie didn't even bother presenting her card anymore. The guards knew who she was. If it wasn't obvious enough by Griever around her neck, they were quite sure to see Eleison at her side. It was like being known without being famous. And she found she didn't mind so much. She was neither the hero nor the villain; she just was.
By now, even Rodger had learned his way around in the great and fantastic maze of hallways. It took quite some time and effort, but he had been able to memorize most of it. Besides, he was sure that if he ever got lost, he could just start screaming. Someone was bound to hear him.
Up lifts, down hallways, darting between "paper boys" that were hired over Garden break to aid in the paper work--it was much less like a maze and more like a sadistic sport. Seemed people were actually being put to use around here for once. It was rarely a busy place.
As expected, they ran into Kiros in the hallway right in front of Laguna's office, in the middle of a dozen or so tasks. He looked a bit surprised rather than stressed or annoyed (a rare occurrence to have any other sort of look to give), and actually took the time to greet them. "Ms. Leonhart, Mr. Kinneas. You two weren't expected."
"Hence this being referred to as a surprise visit." Kyrie joked. Every time she looked at him she could just feel his heartbeat going at light speed with all of the things he put upon himself. If that man didn't sit down and relax soon, or at least get a decent night of sleep--
"I'm afraid I must get some more paperwork done for a visit from the Trabia government." He sliced off her thoughts instantly, already beginning to walk off down the hall.
"I'm changing my pool decision to heart attack." She whispered.
Rodger gave her an amused look. "I'm still convinced it'll be bleeding to death by paper cuts."
"Think we ought to tell him that even Laguna is in on his death pool?" she pondered out loud, turning to knock on the office door.
"Some day." He agreed. "Just let me put money on death by broken heart, first."
Instantly as the door opened, Laguna's voice enveloped them. "Kiros, for Hyne's sake will you just calm the f--oh! Kyrie! Rodger! Come in!" He stood up from his piles of paperwork instantly and held his arms out.
It wasn't as if he didn't see them just a week earlier; and a week before that, and so on. But Laguna had a way of making them feel like the most welcomed visitors he ever had. And, frankly, Kyrie didn't really mind. Free coffee, a number of pastry treats and some interesting conversation were always sure to come of a visit to the estate. She walked up and gave him a hug, feeling the familiar creaking of her spine and ribs at his monstrous squeeze.
"You too, Rodger." Laguna joked, holding his arms even wider.
"No thanks, Sir." He put his hands up in defense. "I'd rather not have my back popped again. Twice in a row."
The president made a dismissing gesture. "None of this 'Sir' stuff. Just Laguna, you know that."
"Yeah. I do, Sir." Rodger grinned, taking a seat.
Laguna put his hands on his hips and regarded the two of them. "Well, don't keep me in suspense."
"We made it." Kyrie announced proudly.
"Excellent!" Laguna clapped his hands together, causing a few of the papers to scatter to the floor. He stared at them, hands on his hips, shaking his head. "All the technology in the world and we still need to keep paper files."
"Work to do, Sir?" Rodger teased.
"I'm afraid so." The president sat back down at his desk, measuring the piles of paper with his eyes. "And this is going to take a bit. It's just for the visit, though. I'm sure Vincent is in need of some entertainment..."
Kyrie caught Rodger's almost lewd glimpse, but pretended not to have noticed. "I guess we'll go bug him for a while, then."
"It was good to see you both, though!" Laguna assured. "I'm sure we'll see more of you two when you get moved into the house."
"What? Once a week isn't enough?" his granddaughter joked.
"Afraid not." Laguna admitted. He rose and walked around to hug her before she could take off without the sentiment. "But you two stop by on your way home, okay?"
"No problem." Rodger assured, already on his way out the door.
"Get back here!" the president joked. "I owe you two back breakers!"
"Gotta catch me first!" Rodger called from halfway down the hall.
"You'll just have to do it for me." Laguna winked at his granddaughter.
"Back breakers. Gotcha." She didn't dare comment any further on that point. "We'll be back."

Finding Vincent's office was even more of a mind-twisting experience. It was a lot easier to get there from Laguna's office than it was from the entrance, but they still seemed to get lost from time to time. It was sad, really, that they hadn't learned all of the turns by now. Maybe it was even more sad that they were building yet another edition onto the estate for yet more paper filing purposes. At least seeing the construction area gave them an indication of where they were.
After a count of how many water coolers they'd passed, they were finally quite sure that they'd found the proper office. Kyrie knocked, knowing that that seemed to be more her style than anyone else's. With no response, she buzzed. Still nothing. She and Rodger looked at one another, wondering if they'd gotten lost again, when she felt a heavy, cold WHUMP.
After the initial start, Kyrie turned with a laugh. "Dammit, Vincent, I'll never get used to that."
He only grinned, taking his cold metal claw off of the side of her neck. All of that silent stalking and assassin edge from years passed put to good use, eh?
Rodger kept his mouth shut about certain details, as he always did around Mr. Valentine. It was later that he'd get his fair chance to tease. "Slow day?" he inquired.
Vincent opened the office door with a touch of the keypad, motioning them in before him. "Not really. But one does need entertainment from time to time. Unfortunately, the two of you came along."
Kyrie pretended to be hurt by that comment. Vincent had been working for her grandfather almost ever since she'd introduced them, head of an intelligence office doing mostly training for field work. He'd since cut his hair and gained a bit of color and... emotion, actually. Snappy dresser and attractive personality... once you got past the cold stares (Kyrie, of course, could toss them back without a second thought). He really seemed to enjoy the work. It gave him something to do with a good amount of privacy.
"Well?" Vincent inquired, as if he needed to ask.
"We, are, graduating." She responded triumphantly.
He sat back in his desk chair, his eyes bright with a smile. "I thought as much." He admitted wryly. "Seems that was good money spent."
Kyrie smirked at the joke. She'd grown to appreciate the man more and more. Even though he often got quite a few sharply edged jokes in on her. Lucky it was a friendly competition.
"No faith in us at all." Rodger sighed, pretending to be heartbroken.
"What, no gift?" Kyrie joked.
"Of course not." Vincent responded seriously, sitting forward and leaning the slender fingers of his right hand against the metal ones of his left. "You're both living in sin. You ought to be ashamed."
The couple looked at one another for a moment. Rodger's laugh ultimately broke their eye contact. "If that's not the worst kind of pressure..."
Vincent grinned like a shark. Just trying to be helpful. "I do hate to inform you two that I've got quite a bit of work to catch up on before the Trabia visit..."
"Laguna got rid of us, too." Kyrie faked a sob.
"At least someone appreciates you." The man indicated Rodger with a subtle tap of a clawed finger on the desk.
"Who?" the indicated boyfriend asked.
"Damned if I know." Vincent grinned. "But shall I assume I will see the two of you after the storm of filing and paper has passed?"
"Not after that." Kyrie joked, crossing her arms.
"Suit yourself." The former Turk invited.
"Ah, but that makes it far too easy on you." She used a slightly threatening tone. "Maybe I should get a job here."
"You are welcome to." Vincent said seriously. "But only if it's on the other side of the building."
"You are a cold, cruel man." She grinned.
"Then get out." Vincent joked, pointing toward the door. "And don't bother coming back until the stars have exploded."
"Alright." She agreed, getting up and walking out.
Rodger just shook his head, trying to stifle a chuckle. He knew too much to begin with, but this was just funny either way.
"And Kyrie, Rodger." Vincent called. "Take care."
"You, too." She gave him a middle finger of appreciation and ducked out into the hallway.
"And I thought our relationship was fucked up to the vast majority of the world." Rodger joked when they were well out of range.
"Yeah." She agreed. "But you and me, we don't have the same kind of sexual tension."
He laughed. And laughed. And had to stop walking and lean against the wall for a moment as he continued to laugh.
"Now that just hurts." Kyrie nudged him, feeling his laughter spread like a disease.
After the bout of insanity was finally over (and several of the guards had come to see what all the noise was about), the two of them heard Rodger's stomach growl. It was actually likely that the sound could be heard through the walls. Once or twice a week, they escaped Garden for food. Now it was time to fill up.
"Oh, cafeteria visit." She commented happily.
"I'm not sure we can find our way there." He was still giggling, wiping tears away from his eyes. "Sexual tension." He repeated before falling into another round of chuckles.
"You heard me." She teased, making an attempt to lead the way.

The cafeteria in the Presidential Estate was one hell of a fantastic departure from the one at Garden. Firstly, there were several little restaurants off to the side, each with their own inside and outside eating lounges. Then there was the central area, where you could take something from the restaurants to eat, or get something delivered to your table from that day's regular menu. Such a nice place, with nice food. Today, it seemed, most people were busy with the paperwork. There were a few full tables, but for the most part the place was really abandoned.
As they entered, there was a man off to the side that caught Kyrie's eye. Probably because he had been looking at her with an expression of recognition. In the space of all of two seconds, she went through her mind to place him as a threat or enemy, but came up with nothing. He looked friendly enough, and he was already in the process of walking over. Well, what the hell. New people were always welcomed. Until they said something stupid or fucked up in some way.
"Miss Leonhart." The man greeted warmly, holding his hand out.
There was something distantly familiar about this man. From an old photo, maybe? He was about her parents' age. She reached out and shook his hand, noticing an officer's pilot badge on his uniform. "Sir?"
He smiled, nodding slightly. "I'm Nida Matsuro. I attended Garden with your parents," he nodded to Rodger, "And served under Squall Leonhart during the war."
Her eyes lit, recalling the name. She'd heard about him, as well as seen some pictures. "You flew Balamb Garden."
He nodded again, the smile growing even wider. "Ah, so you've heard of me." He chuckled quietly. "I thought, since I was grounded here for the time being, I would come by and congratulate you on graduating. And offer my condolences. But that's somewhat depressing, don't you think?"
She thought she could get along with this guy. "Most definitely. Do you have time to get a bite to eat?" she invited, genuinely interested in a little more conversation.
Nida simply beamed at the suggestion. "I would love to. That is, if Mr. Kinneas wouldn't mind."
Oh, would he ever be teasing Kyrie about this later. But for now, he would remain his polite, charming self. The self she insisted he didn't show her anymore. "I don't mind at all. It would be nice to have someone else agreeing with us about... anything."
"Yeah, just smile and nod your head, and everything will be alright." Kyrie joked.
The pilot smiled in good humor. "I'm very good at that by now." He indicated the table right next to them that, by sheer coincidence, was a three-seater.
Kyrie sat to the man's right, and Rodger's left. "How did you know we graduated?"
Nida smiled shyly and pointed to the announcement panel at the other end of the cafeteria. The three of them just caught the end of one of the repeating messages "from the office of the President": "Kyrie Leonhart and Rodger Kinneas graduate from Garden! Congratulations, kids!" A bunch of happy flashing smilie faces followed before the next message flashed across.
"Well." She commented. "Word travels fast here."
"It sure does." Their usual waitress giggled, walking over. She was a sweet woman, polite. Not quite "one of their kind" but accepting all the same. "Congrads, you two."
"Thank you, Liz." Rodger greeted in a flirtatious manner, as he always did. She was at least twice her age, but that's where the joke came from.
She gave him a smirk and took out a note pad. "Okay, what will it be?"
"Usual." Kyrie responded.
"Me, too." Rodger added.
"Whatever they're having is alright with me." Nida decided. There were few things that were even close to as bad as some of the stuff he'd had to eat at various bases from time to time. As long as it wasn't rations, he didn't care what it was.
"Just a minute, then." Liz nodded and bounded back to the counter.
"So you escape the Garden cafeteria often enough to know the waitress." Nida commented, knowing the feeling.
"The food has not improved." Rodger stated dryly. "It may have gotten worse over the years."
"It may be the same food." Kyrie suggested with a shudder.
"Here comes the annoying question." Nida warned, sitting back and getting comfortable. "What do you two plan on doing now?"
They looked at one another for a moment before Rodger answered, "Sleeping in for about a week. Then we'll see what happens."
The pilot laughed at that. "Big plans, then."
"Well, now, we'll be making our own meals from then on." Kyrie added. "Or at least that's the plan."
"Oh. Do either of you cook?" he glanced three heaping plates of burgers and fries being carried out toward them. It was enough to make his stomach growl for the first time in weeks.
"Well, no." Kyrie admitted. "But the house has fire insurance, just in case."
Nida chuckled. "That is important."
Liz presented the plates carefully so as not to spill any of the french fry mountains. "Back with the sodas. Do you want a soda, Mr...?"
"Matsuro." He smiled kindly. "Sure."
"Ketchup? Salt?" she inquired.
"Nah. After weeks of military fodder, I'd just like to have something that doesn't taste like lettuce. This is fine."
The waitress nodded and sped off again. In the back of her mind, she worried. Two of them could be confusing enough. But three?
"So you're in a similar food situation." Rodger grinned, checking under the bread. Once in a while he'd get pickles. It was a random thing, and he didn't mind either way, but... it was odd.
"Really, don't remind me." Nida joked. "Garden was nothing compared to a military base. Especially in the pilot's quarters. I guess they want you to stay as light as possible or something."
"Then dig in, Mr. Matsuro." Kyrie invited.
He gladly did so. Hell, he could barely acknowledge the waitress as she came back with the drinks. It was so good to eat real food again. Real meat. And fried foods. And sugary, caffeinated, ice cold beverages. Heaven. He was still filling up on fries when he caught a glimpse of the announcement panel again, then glanced at his watch. "I really am sorry to be rude about this," he apologized, "But I'm all of a sudden late for take-off."
"I'm sure we'll see you around." Kyrie grinned. "Best burgers in Esthar. And Trabia, for that matter."
"Yeah, don't worry about it." Rodger agreed. "The fact you sat with us willingly says a lot."
Nida laughed so hard he had to cover his mouth for a moment to keep it from echoing across the cafeteria. "Well, thank you both for the company, and good luck. Let me take care of this." He dug into his pocket for a handful of Gil.
"Oh, we can't--"
"Yes you can." He cut Kyrie off politely. "Graduation present from a friend of the family." He gave them both a warm smile and paused only to bow and wave before rushing off. Hopefully no one was waiting for his landing spot.
"What is it with you and the cute guys?" Rodger teased instantly.
She pretended to be serious about the middle finger she gave him. "With fame comes opportunity."
"Yeah." He rolled his eyes, "subtly" putting an arm over her shoulder and drawing her closer. "Same goes for me."
She scoffed. "With fame comes you? I think not." She grinned, snatching a fry from his plate.