Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ The Bloodcross Key: Arc 1: Shattered Knight ❯ Chapter 5 ( Chapter 5 )

Part 5:

He scooped a handful of damp sand, shaping and patting it into another section of his sandcastle's wall. The grains gritted his cold fingertips as he scraped and dug and formed his creation with quiet diligence.

Soft, hesitant footsteps crunched behind him. He sighed. Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone?

"Hi."

Squall could almost hear the smirk he knew to be on the blond boy's face. Seifer. Why couldn't he just leave him alone? What did he want? Did he enjoy constantly tormenting him? The cute, irritating blond boy always found him. Somehow. When Squall most wanted to be alone. Needed to be alone. Was alone. Lonely.

But he could take care of himself. He didn't need anybody. Not Sis. And not Seifer.

He continued building his castle. And hoped the other boy would go away. If he stayed, the pain might become so intense Squall might break down and actually enjoy the Seifer's company. Even crave it. Need it. Want it. And then what would he do? What would he do when someone came and took the boy away? When the boy tired of him and left him alone. Again, alone.

He couldn't bear that. It was far more simple to just keep Seifer away, keep them all away. Then there would be no pain. None that he didn't already know and accept for himself. The easy pain that he controlled, not someone else. And not some troublesome boy.

"Umm...Squall, that's a pretty good castle," the older boy said, then took a smug pause and collapsed on the sand next to him. "Need help?" The arrogant tone sent a hot flush of anger to Squall's pale cheeks.

Help? Why would he need his help? Why would he need anyone's help! He could do just fine by himself. He had to. Alone. Always alone...

Squall clenched his teeth, grinding back the anger. The frustration. The loneliness. Shifting to turn his back to Seifer, he continued patting the sand, forming his wall. Maybe the pest would finally get the silent message and leave.

The other boy was quiet for a few moments. Not moving. Damn! A growl, the shuffling of sand, and a dark shadow loomed over him and his carefully crafted castle.

"Why? Why do you always ignore me!" Seifer yelled.

Squall nearly jumped at the abruptness and intensity in the voice behind him. But he shut his eyes and shut out the anger quaking in the air between them. If he continued acting like Seifer wasn't there, didn't exist, then he would go away. And Squall could be alone again, in peace.

He wiped his arm across his face to brush away the errant bangs hanging in his eyes, and to brush away the errant tears. Damn sand. Why else would his eyes water?

Pat, pat. More of the wall solidified, becoming stronger and stronger under his determined hands.

"Why?" Seifer screamed again.

Suddenly, a blur of pale legs, and dark blue, and his castle erupted in a flurry of dark clumps and gold-beige dust. Squall spun around, glaring at the blond fury destroying what he had worked so hard to build.

Damn him! Damn Seifer! Why couldn't he leave him alone. Just leave him the hell alone. Instead of ruining everything!

Squall lunged at Seifer, knocking him to the ground with a solid, satisfying thump. "I hate you!" he hissed, as he blindly pounded the blond with his sandy fists. He cared little for where or what or how hard he hit. He just wanted Seifer to go away. To punish him for destroying his wall. "Why can't you leave me alone!"

Blow after blow warmed Squall's fists with blood and soft flesh. Seifer fought back, frantic hands striking his body with a force too weak to interrupt his frenzy. Warm hands. In a perverse way, he savored the touches as Seifer's hands slapped against his skin to deflect his blows, or pounded against his chest to force him away.

Through the flurry of his fists, he glared into Seifer's face: the smirking lips bloodied, the vivid red set the ice blue eyes to a glowing brilliance. Smug, even lying flat on his back being beaten to a pulp, like he was getting what he wanted And in a strange way it was what Squall wanted too, a perverse neutral ground where he was no longer alone but could still claim the safety of his precious solitude. It was in that, Squall realized: Seifer had already won. He needed the blond after all.

But as he studied Seifer's eyes deeper, he realized something more shattering, more destructive to his crumbled fortress. He discovered the pain...

...He discovered the truth: An adorable, blond boy, head bowed shyly, a faint, sweet smile on his lips, slowly walking across the sand. A timid hello. Pouting, pink lips, and a nervous glance at him sitting on the beach, building his castle, alone. The dejected sigh and fall of precious tears onto the darkening sand. Trembling hands. Rejected. Hurt. Wounded. Bleeding. All within, far deeper than any blow could reach.

"No!" He screamed. "No!"

Squall awoke with a start, a cry on his lips, his breath ragged and silver tears falling from his aching, blue eyes. He flung the tears from his face with an agitated hand.

Why the hell was he crying? It was just a dream. A stupid dream! But a dream anchored in what he knew had to be the truth. The truth of a child's memories, clouded by the years of using the guardian forces he had needed to become a SeeD and needed to save the world. Yet, he had lost a portion of himself in the process.

And a truth he slowly realized tore at his soul. To never see the sun-haired boy with the sea-blue eyes and warming smile -- a smile twisted into an arrogant smirk through the years -- created a deep ache in his heart. How much of the shy little boy had he destroyed all those years ago? A little boy, alone, like himself.

He could have ended both their loneliness so simply. Without even a word. Just a smile, or a look, or simply acknowledging Seifer's existence, would have been enough. But he had been afraid. Afraid of losing another. Afraid of the pain that when Seifer was adopted, his sun would be gone. Just like his Sis had gone. And he would be alone again. Far easier to wrap himself in the cold dark of loneliness than fleeting warmth.

However, his plan had been flawed and so much precious time wasted. Seifer and he were the only ones to never find a new home. And part of that was Squall's fault, he knew. If he hadn't been so cold to Seifer, rejecting his attempts at friendship, perhaps the blond could have found a family. Someone who wanted him. Wanted to love him.

But no one wanted the cocky, temperamental bully Seifer had become, always demanding... no, commanding attention. It seemed that for Seifer the world was designed purely for his own amusement. Squall had thought it had only been the blond showing his true nature, but the hurt in the shattering blue eyes revealed the truth. And to think, after all these years, Seifer still cared, still sought his friendship, his company, in little hidden ways. And still....loved him? And as before, all Squall ever did was turn his back and reject him.

How much of Seifer's arrogant antagonism had been the only way left to him when friendliness never worked; how much was a mask to hide from the world feelings which would only bring him greater pain? Not just feelings for Squall, but for anyone or anything, leaving himself vulnerable to a world that experience would have shown only brought pain.

Part of that experience was in Squall's own cruelty through coldness. And how much was merely Squall's perception of Seifer? Sure, Seifer was brash and confident, but as his memory unclouded little by little, Squall realized the blond never truly was the bully everyone thought he was. He spat insults and smartass comments, always with his cocky smirk, but he never actually harmed anyone. And he never seemed spiteful -- although, at least with him, Seifer may have been justified if he was. No, Seifer actually had been rather cheerful, amused, in his own arrogant way.

Seifer was the only one who could break through his apathy and icy walls to touch his emotions, flare his passions. Not even Rinoa, who everyone had convinced him he should love, truly touched his heart. Only Seifer. Only Seifer challenged him, motivated him. Only Seifer accepted him as he was, didn't try to change him. Only Seifer understood. And he had taken it all for granted.

He thought Seifer would always be there since he never actually showed he cared, never even knew he cared. He just danced their warped little dance, thinking it safer for them both. But it wasn't. And Seifer was gone anyway. And Seifer had still taken his heart with him, without either of them realizing it.

Squall buried his face in his hands and cried. Cried for a friend denied so many years; for what could have been; and cried for a love lost before he had known it existed; and mostly, he cried for Seifer. Which was all the same thing.

****

Squall hadn't been aware that he had fallen back to sleep until the incessant banging on his door jolted him awake. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand as he waited for his heart to slow it's pounding in rhythm with the urgent tempo on wood. Swinging his legs off the bed, he staggered sleepily to the door, rumpling his chocolate hair irritably.

"Squall! Open up!"

Raijin. Squall growled to himself. What the hell could the big guy want? The last thing he needed right now was more bad news. He flung open his door, greeting the burly young man with a scowl.

"What do you want at this hour? Normal people are trying to sleep?" he grumbled, crossing his arms across his bare chest.

"Ya can sleep anytime, ya know. This is important." Raijin shoved a small envelope at Squall.

"What's this?" His brow lifted as he snatched the scarlet paper, its satiny finish slick under his fingertips.

"A lead."

"Seifer?" Squall gasped, glancing up at Raijin's rugged face.

Raijin nodded, a hopeful gleam in his dark eyes. "It's not much, ya know, but it proves he's still alive."

Squall slid the small card from envelope: gilded edges and a satin cross, exactly like Seifer's, red as blood, catching the light from the hallway. In flowing red and gold script was written: "Your Key to a Knight Fantasy" and a phone number, and under the number in tiny print: "Ask for the Bloodcross Key."

"Where the hell did you get this?"

"Believe it or not, Rinoa, ya know."

Squall's storm blue eyes widened. "What? Rinoa? How the...?"

Raijin shrugged his broad shoulders. "She said she found it at a society party her father made her go to..."

"But, how...?"

"If ya want details, ask her, ya know."

Squall peered down at the card in his trembling hand. Could it be? Could they have found Seifer? He hurried into his room, flipping the light switch on the wall as he dashed past it towards his dresser.

"Have you tried the number or gotten an address?" he asked while quickly rummaging through his a drawer, distractedly gathering some clothes.

"Yeah. The number called a recording and asked to leave a message..." The rhythm of Raijin's boot tapping the floor oddly matched the hammering of Squall's heart.

Squall turned, tugging a pair of well-worn black leather pants over the black cotton boxers he had been sleeping in. His eyes narrowed at the larger boy, nervousness stealing his voice to barely above a whisper. "Did you?"

Shifting his stance, Raijin's foot quieted its tapping. "Uh, no... we didn't..." he replied, biting his lower lip.

"Why the hell not! Seifer could be dying...who knows how..."

"Squall..." Raijin rubbed the back of his thick neck, like a world-heavy weight pressed upon his shoulders.

"I thought you were his friend..."

"Squall..."

"I thought you wanted to find him..."

"Squall! Shut up a minute, ya know! There's something you need to know..."

"What?" Squall snapped.

"You're not going to like it, ya know... Fujin nearly broke down her closet door after she found out."

The brunette's brow arched into a strange, curious scowl. Closet? "What the hell is going on, Raijin?"

Raijin paused for a deep breath, his eyes sharp with uncharacteristic seriousness. "Seifer's at a place called the 'Palace'..."

"You telling me he's been on a fucking vacation?" It would be just like the bastard too. If Seifer had caused him to worry over fucking nothing, to even cry over his sorry ass, he'd kill him himself!

"N...no... Not even close. They're....uh... ya know..."

"No, I don't know! Now tell me!" Why the hell wouldn't anyone ever get to the fucking point?

"They're .... selling him."

"Selling him? Like a slave?"

"Kinda. More like a ....prostitute."

Squall suddenly felt very cold. And almost faint. A prostitute? Seifer?

"You ok?"

No. "No," he whispered weakly. "So, where is this Palace, so I can get Seifer and have Ifrit blast it into rubble?"

"We don't know yet. If we had left our name and number, details were supposed to be sent. But if me or Fujin had done it, they'd have been suspicious and who knows what they'd do to him."

Squall was silent for several moments. "You're right. But maybe I can."