Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ The Sins of Two Fathers ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

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

"The Sins of Two Fathers" and the general overall concept of "The Sins of Two Fathers" is completely copyright Orin Drake 1999-2003, as is the character Kyrie. The characters Seifer Almasy, Squall Leonhart, Quistis Trepe, Ellone (Leonhart?), Laguna Loire, Irvine Kinneas 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. Kyrie is mine, the rest are not.
Background: To be completely honest, I had no idea this was going to turn into a serious story. I started writing is as a free-for-all squickfic yaoi fan fantasy, but it got so out of my control that the characters are actually... endearing. What have I done?! Ah well. Lesse, there's a real obvious homosexual relationship, but they don't really do anything in this chapter, so... oh, there's language. You know me, I like my nasty language, so look out. Angst, I love putting angst everywhere. That's about it for now. I will warn you, though, that FF characters actually don't make up a lot of this story, especially not in the beginning. I will make it up to you all some day. Enjoy.

"So..." Seifer began, slicing meat for dinner. "Are you going to spread the news?"
Kyrie had been staring off into space for quite a while. It was an understatement to say that she still couldn't quite believe she'd made it into Garden, thinking it pretty obvious that their standards had dropped since her parents had been involved. "I suppose I might as well."
Her father glanced at her with a puzzled expression. "Aren't you excited?"
"Sure." She admitted in monotone. "Just... shocked."
Seifer made a small amused noise. "Shock" may not have been the word for it. "Floored" was probably closer to the truth. He knew she'd sent the papers off incredibly nonchalantly, though it were just another daily function. And, though he wouldn't admit it, he sort of knew how she felt. He never thought he'd have a chance in Garden. But of course, he never did get to be a SeeD. There was little regret of that, though, looking back.
"You'd better make a call to your grandfather soon." Seifer suggested.
Kyrie nodded, still quite stuck in a world all her own. It was a haze of shock, really. But it wasn't so unpleasant. "I'll do that now." She responded at last, getting up and walking zombie-like through the hallway and up the stairs.
Seifer chuckled as quietly as he could. He was happy for her. And he was sure she was just as happy for herself. But he did wonder how long it would take to kick in.

She walked into her room and gently shut the door. Not that she was concerned anyone would be listening, really; she'd always had plenty of privacy. It's just what you did as a female in a house of males, you close your door when you're in your room. She sat heavily at her desk and picked up the phone receiver. It hung there in her hand, chanting an annoying echo that signaled the line was free. Somehow she wasn't quite ready to hear her grandfather's perky questions. But then, he was probably busy at this time of day. She glanced over at the clock to be sure.
Well, it's now or never. She put the phone to her ear and dialed the extensively long number to bypass all other secretaries and assistants, directly into the President of Esthar's office.
After about five rings, a very tired, "Yeah?" answered the phone.
There was no doubt who that voice belonged to. "Kiros? Kyrie."
"Oh. Hello, Kyrie." He greeted warmly. "Do you want your grandfather?"
"Actually, I have to make this kinda quick..."
He snickered. "Okay, then. What can I do for you?"
She looked at the clock and calculated her arrival time. "Does he have any appointments for Wednesday morning? Roughly around six thirty?"
There were flutterings of paper on the other end as he searched. "Nope. Will you be visiting?"
"Just stopping by on my way to Trabia Garden."
"Congratulations!"
She lowered her voice, curiosity getting the best of her. "Between you and me, did he... say anything?"
"Heh. Every day for two weeks."
She honestly could not help but smile. "Good to know. How's everything with you and Ward and, well, everything else?"
"Oh, everything is fine, here. We're..." his voice dropped slightly, staring at all of the paperwork in front of him, "Kept busy."
"So I would assume." She joked. "Well, just tell everyone hello for me."
"Will do." Kiros chimed. "See you then."
"See you." Kyrie responded before lightly dropping the receiver.
Well, that wasn't so bad. She didn't even have to communicate with Laguna. Not that she minded it, but he was much easier for her to take in person. Where visuals could distract you from the endless stream of chatter.
She sat back and twirled her chair around with a heavy sigh, staring at her room. It'd be the first time she ever really left it. Not that she really had all that much to fill it with in the first place, but she wondered how empty it would be without her. Just a dresser, some pictures, some books. She'd have to take her most important possessions, of course.
She wondered, then, just how her parents would get along without her there. Probably a little better, she imagined. Not that she ever felt like a burden, but it seemed that way at times. Of course, she would have to leave right as Squall was actually making the attempt to talk to her; to know and treat her as a daughter. That's how it seemed to go, though. It was no big deal. She'd be back. She was close enough to visit often.
Old pictures of old friends and Balamb Garden were everywhere in the house. Faded memories of the happy times that used to be among friends. She closed her eyes and imagined them rather than searching for them; somehow she knew Trabia was going to be very different. That may not be a bad thing, but she'd hate to get lost the first day. Quistis would be there if she needed directions, though. And maybe, if she was really lucky, special treatment. She didn't really count on it, but it sure would be nice.
A soft knock on the door brought her out of her colorful imaginings; getting lost for several months in long, dark Garden hallways. "Come in."
Seifer stuck his head in the door. "Busy?"
"Not at the moment." Kyrie sensed something... "amiss".
"Would you care to join us in the living room, then?" her father asked just as sickeningly sweet as anyone who really wanted something.
His daughter daintily raised an eyebrow. "Oooookay."
"Excellent." Seifer flashed his teeth and took off down the stairs without her.
"Oh boy." She commented to herself, getting up. Maybe there were second thoughts on getting a ruby dragon for a pet. She crossed her fingers. Anything but a "family meeting"... As she came to the bottom of the stairs, she spotted her parents looking very... devious.
"Come here, Ky." Seifer suggested, too innocently.
Riiiiiiiight... she flashed him a small smirk before doing as he asked. She'd no idea what the hell could possibly be going on, but it was clear it had been planned. That wasn't always a good thing.
"I know of course that you're only going into the academic program..." Seifer began innocently enough, "But of course there are still monsters, and it is still important to have arms with you." He paused just long enough to allow Squall to walk up beside him with his hands behind his back.
Interesting words. Should she be excited or nervous, she wondered. Run for it, maybe? She looked from one set of blue eyes to the other, seeing mischievous smiles playing in them. Something very important, it seemed, had been planned. Interesting.
"And we know how much you appreciate our gunblades." Seifer continued, smiling. "But we thought it might be a little better if we had one custom made for you."
A lead weight seemed to bounce back and forth in her stomach. Had she heard what she thought she heard? A gunblade of her own? Custom made? She saw Squall's smile widen as he brought the thing he'd hidden behind his back out into her view, held out to her in both hands.
A gunblade. It was a gunblade. A bit smaller and shorter than either of her parents', but just as finely crafted. It was a combination of theirs, with the wide base of Squall's blade and the morbidly fascinating hook just beyond the trigger of Seifer's; but it was uniquely it's own weapon. Several thin triangles were sliced out of the inside of the blade itself to reduce the weight and resistance, making it look more like a piece of modern art than a weapon. On the side of blade right below the barrel was etched a likeness of Griever over the background of the Bloodcross.
Silence. Only a moment of it, but it was probably the longest she'd ever thought she'd experienced. "It... god, it's... so beautiful..."
"It won't shatter." Squall mused softly.
It might if I touch it... she thought, but said nothing. Instead, she took a deep breath and lightly reached toward the weapon. It was beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. And so... perfectly hers. She grasped the hilt and gently lifted it from her dad's hands. It was remarkably heavy, but in a good way; not so heavy she needed to use both hands. Just heavy enough to keep her muscles toned, and give her plenty of momentum when she needed it. As though no one else were in the room, she pointed it to the floor and thumbed the hammer softly. Precision. The smell of machine oil wafted through the air. Grasping the cylinder, she carefully pushed and popped it aside in loading position. Again, she discovered only absolute, oiled perfection. It felt so goddamn good. It smelled of new steel, clean oil, wood and leather.
"Satisfied?" Seifer questioned, amused.
Kyrie at last realized that she was not alone and snapped the cylinder back in. "Much more than that." She admitted triumphantly. "How..?"
Her father watched what a natural she seemed to be with the thing already. "We managed to find the kid of the guy that made ours."
"And he managed to find his father's partner and make this for us." Squall finished, an air of pride in his voice. It was no small task to have hunted them down.
Now, Kyrie was officially floored. She was very close to emotional, even. Close. Transplanting her gunblade to her left hand, she wrapped her free arm around Squall without thinking. "Thank you, Dad."
He seemed a little surprised at the sudden "overflow of emotion", himself. But he hugged her back, enjoying the incredibly natural touch. "You're welcome, Kyrie."
Seifer pretended to pout. "Hey, I helped, too."
Kyrie grinned and transferred her hug to him. "Thank you, too, Father."
"That's more like it." He lightly ran his hand through her hair and "fluffed" it. "We got you a nice leather scabbard and everything."
Squall took his cue, walking to the living room closet and getting out a long box. He yanked the top off and gently sifted through a few crinkling layers of packing paper before pulling out the black leather scabbard. "I hope this fits. It's non-refundable."
"Warms my heart." Kyrie muttered, graciously taking the scabbard and commencing it's trial run. The body was soft and flexible, but quite thick and certainly strong enough to support the blade. Three belts stuck out of it's side to attach to her thigh, and one more at the top end in case she wanted a fourth belt around her waist for extra support. She was glad to see that not only did they fit snugly, but there was plenty of room back and forth. You know, in case she chose to get fat or starve herself. She slipped her gunblade in with absolute ease, snapping the security strap in place over the hilt. "Have you been measuring me in my sleep?" she joked, taking a trial walk around them in a circle. It felt a little weird, yes, but not uncomfortable. A tightness and weight that felt very natural, actually.
"Hmm. That would have been a good idea..." Seifer trailed off. "Well, we did a good job." He grinned at Squall and kissed him softly on the lips.
Squall returned the affectionate peck. "Yes, I think we did."
Another mischievous look crossed Seifer's face. Without a single indication of what was to come, he walked up to Kyrie and simply threw her over his shoulder. It was something playful that he hadn't done since she was 10. And it showed quickly. "You're a lot heavier than you used to be..."
"It's all muscle." She quipped. "Muscle and gunblade."
"I don't think so..." he jokingly poked lightly at her side. "Wait--I feel scrawny ribs."
"Ow." She giggled. She couldn't help herself. It was a moment like none she'd experienced in such a long damn time. She lost herself to the bliss of it. The bliss of being the daughter, under the care of her parents. That's all it was.

They'd taken her outside to practice with her new weapon before seeing her off. It was relatively important she learned how to draw quickly, let alone use the thing. Bullets, bullets! she thought, but wound up not having to say a thing.
Squall stepped outside with a small, dark red box in his hands. "I think we have some spare bullets for a little shooting before you go..."
Ah, bullets. Kyrie held her breath as she watched the box open. "You'd better. I'd hate to find out I have a crooked sight at the wrong moment."
Seifer laughed. "Irvine did that once. Remember?"
Squall grinned in spite of himself. "It sure as hell wasn't funny at the time."
The blonde threw his hands up in the air and exclaimed, "Not a hell of a lot was!"
The brunette chuckled. "True." He picked through the box and handed six shining silver bullets to his daughter.
She took them into her outstretched palm, nearly sighing with the cold metal finally in her hand. Lovely. Her first actual shoot without one of her parents holding her up so she wouldn't fly from the recoil. At least, she hoped so. To feel the jerk of her shoulder all on her own two feet... Mechanically, she popped the cylinder out and loaded slowly, one by one. Each one was a silent prayer; I hope I survive this... I hope I survive this...
Snap, clink. She was ready to rock and roll. Give me something to shoot at...
Her parents grinned knowingly at one another. She was a natural. Seifer put his hand on her shoulder to show support. "Just make sure you aim for the woods, that's all."
"Shouldn't I have something... specific to aim for?" Kyrie could hardly contain her excitement.
"Let's see how you handle recoil first." Her father suggested.
Oh, damn. She thought. She wanted to shoot something, dammit. But it would be nice to know how much power this baby had. And, hopefully, she could handle it. Sensing her parents moving a step back, she lifted the blade and aimed for nowhere in particular; just into the woods. Both hands first, until she knew. Both hands locked, her eyes were level, her breath was still. She squeezed smoothly.
Recoil was, in fact... delicious. Perfect. Harsh, yes, especially for her small frame. But it was enough to feel the weapon. The crack of the gunpowder and the instant smoke that tore just for a moment at her sinuses added the the effect; she knew this was a killer. But she also knew it was safe in her hands. Something secret, something sweet, had just been exchanged between weapon and master. She was set for life and she knew it.
Dropping her left hand, she took another breath and squeezed again. It did hurt just a bit, in a jarring sort of pain that ran up the length of her arm. It was really impossible to explain; but it wasn't bad pain. The jarring wasn't a permanent thing, she was sure. Only until her muscles could effectively evolve to her purpose.
With another long, delicate breath, she lowered the blade to the ground and paused to take it all in. She could handle the recoil, alright. Now it was time for... "Target?"
Her parents exchanged a glance. She had a genuine lust for her weapon, alright. A love they both knew quite well. And it was a sense of pride that filled them to the brink of some sort of emotional overflow. Wordlessly, Squall disappeared into the house for a moment, gathering a number of cans and bottles. To hell with the food and drink they wasted now. To hell with having to shop for twice as much next week. Their daughter was becoming a marksman true to their heart.
The silence continued as he carefully placed the targets; some on the ground, some on stumps and logs, others on rocks. There was a good variety to choose from. Kyrie watched with harsh concentration on her face. Her aim usually failed before because she couldn't hold the other gunblades long enough to really trace anything. This time, it was all hers, she was sure. She waited until her dad walked well out of range behind her, then lifted the blade again. Eye along the edge. Bottle in sight. Squeeze.
Zing! Miss. Off just slightly above and to the right. She surprised herself by instantly adjusting for her mistake. Another squeeze, and the bottle gushed in a flurry of shards. Not a dead-on center hit, but damn close. She could learn this quickly.
Another breath and she had already squeezed again. She hit the can on the highest stump, but only in the lower left corner. Overcompensation. She'd have to look out for that. Pausing to clear her thoughts and learn from her mistakes, she aimed one more time for another can on the ground. It splattered to almost a dead-on hit. Close counts in battle. But she still wasn't completely satisfied.
Empty of rounds and unwilling to waste more, she lowered the blade again and let her muscles relax. That was still damn good. She looked at her hits and misses, already working out the lessons in her mind. She was glad all Gardens retained their training rooms. She was going to need a lot of time there.
"That was fucking great, Ky." Seifer's even voice was one of pride and, she thought, maybe a little surprise. Hell, she'd shocked the hell out of herself, too. It just hadn't sunken in yet.
"Why thank you." She responded tonelessly. Had she really done that? Wow. "And now I get to clean it up, right?"
Squall stepped forward, staring at her accomplishment. He hadn't picked it up that fast. But then, he didn't have parents who were experts, either. "I think we can take care of that."
His daughter glanced at him, coming out of her trance just a little. She was still amazed, but a mild form of acceptance was settling comfortably. She was getting too hungry to do battle with mental inadequacies. "Where do I buy bullets?"
"Trabia and Esthar both have good weapon shops." Squall responded, seeing the confident pose Kyrie was still striking. Apparently they'd all been blown out of the water somewhat.
"It's just a regular, run of the mill rifle shot." Seifer added, staring to pick up the remnants of the food left untouched. "Pretty versatile."

Kyrie sat between her parents on the couch, looking at but not paying attention to the television. How she'd been tricked into such an arrangement was beyond her. She hadn't sat in the same chair with her parents for years, let alone between them. They must have taken advantage of her full stomach right after dinner. That and her continuing astonishment; did she really shoot that well? It wasn't perfect, no, but it would do. She didn't mind honing a skill she would certainly use. It wasn't like... algebra.
Weird. Just weird. By that time the next day, she'd be in Garden. She may not even have access to a television. What a horrible thought.
Strange though it felt, it was kind of nice to just... sit and stare at the moving box. News was the only thing on at the time, but even that wasn't so bad. Not a lot had been happening in the world the past couple of days. The newscasters were so desperate for stories that everything was a human interest story followed every 10 minutes by weather. Sure "We're doin' fine" and "The weather is the same as it was 10 minutes ago" didn't make much of a news program, but... come on.
News was followed by some not so entertaining sitcom. But it was funny, at least. Especially in all the places it really didn't need to be. It was just pure cheese. With bad acting on top of that. But that was good watching when you just want to zone out from reality for a little while.
"How do you think they're gonna make up this time?" Seifer pretended to be very interested.
"I bet they'll kiss!" Kyrie whispered, as though it were some big secret.
"Maybe some make-up sex." Squall suggested with a chortle.
When it came time for cop dramas, the three of them cheered on the criminals with abandon. "Blow his brains out!" Kyrie suggested.
Seifer laughed. "I'm so glad you know the difference between TV and 'real life'."
His daughter looked at him, acting bewildered. "Real what, now?"
A whole hour spent on a criminal who could have easily been taken down with a bullet. But no, no, they "didn't want to play that way". It was another sappy ending that caused them all to moan with disdain. Cheap "the ending is so sickeningly sweet and good that the violence is excusable" ending.
"It's getting late, Ky." Seifer begrudgingly announced during the credits. "And you have a long day ahead of you."
She felt a little bit surprised. Sure she ought to get some sleep if she was going to leave... really early in the morning. But she hadn't really thought of that beforehand, was all. "Yeah, I guess so." She relented.

She sat there in the dim light, staring at her weapon. Her gunblade. What an amazing thought. She never thought she'd get one of her own. And it was so beautiful. So perfect. A delicate savageness carved into it. She had no name for it yet, but she had a feeling that would change. She'd give it the first name that really chimed. It could wait for a name as long as she kept holding it once in a while.
What a funny thought to have, she mused. But it wasn't so crazy. Just a few short years ago when magic had been a large part of the world, the weapon and it's master were bonded in a thousand ways she probably couldn't imagine. Maybe she retained some of that, thanks to Squall. Maybe even thanks to her mother; though she hesitated to thank her mother for anything.
She glanced up at the clock, sliding her new weapon into its sheath. Getting late, of course. And still she hadn't gotten a bit of sleep. She felt she operated a little better on a slight lack of rest, actually. It just seemed to make things easier when you didn't quite know what was going on. It also seemed to boost the adrenaline when you needed it most; although she still had to experiment with that to make sure it wasn't a one-time thing. So it was clear that she had better get herself to sleep.
On a whim, she placed the gunblade next to her under the covers. It wasn't so crazy.