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Snow Drift	By : Resting-Madness Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male > Irvine/Squall Views: 970 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own anything involving final fantasy 8, nor do I make money from this fanfiction. The only thing that's mine is the take on a plot that's been done by just about everyone.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
A month of searching and they found nothing but a boot. A soggy, moldy, ruined leather boot. It made Squall sick to his stomach to think that Irvine may be lying somewhere beneath the piss warm crystal waters of the ocean. Soggy, moldy, and ruined. His skin bloated like a boiled sausage that's been in the pot for far too long. This is what Squall has been thinking while in his room waiting for 1 o'clock. Evil. Living. Breathing, 1 o'clock. Leonhart began to wonder if he would ever see the time or date the same again?
April 6th 2010, 1 o'clock. Will it always equal Doomsday? Although, he can't really call it Doomsday, it's more like: the day-the-world-shat-itself. But, then again, in times like these Squall doesn't really care to think. And yet, his mind keeps talking to him like an alter ego that has a little too much freedom of conversation going on in his brain for his liking. The voice asked stupid and taunting questions like: 'What are you gonna do now that Irvine's dead?' and "What's it gonna be like when you die?" and "Remember when Seifer was supposedly dead?". But that's where he had his chortling little alter ego, because Seifer is in fact very much alive. Which means there's hope yet for Irvine.
Lack of a body does not make him dead. It makes him lost. And they need only find him or the other way round. Irvine Kinneas is very resourceful; he once walked into a bank that was being held up by some guy who was either strapped for cash, or just looking for kicks; out of nowhere he decides to pull his own gun out and hold the place up, as well. The man, confused, asked Irvine what he thought he was doing? And Irvine asked the very same thing. Later in the conversation of a dim matched to a wit, Irvine then says that they could hold the place up together and make more dough that way. When the man agreed, Irvine told him to go for the money whilst he kept his gun aimed at the crowd. And once said man turned around to do just that he was knocked out. See resourceful.
'Fuck!' Squall lifts himself to a seated position. Anger crossed his age-sharpened features that once looked almost like a young man with hidden kindness beneath his cool exterior, he now has the outer looks to match the inner. And a cool gaze once in while could chill through the bone with a mere glance. 'Look at me, I'm remembering things about him as if I intend to act like the rest of them.' Standing he heaved out a sigh of frustration and restlessness.
Squall Leonhart does intend to go to that mock funeral for a non-existent corpse. He's going to... He's going to... do something - - that's for damned sure. Tell them all to kiss his, and Irvine's, ass for wanting to believe that he's dead or... Or maybe he'll make them feel stupid for burying a boot. But as he passed by a mirror on the wall of his dorm room, by none other than the sometimes appearance obsessed sniper, Squall gazed at his reflection's appearance. His eyes skimming down his body that's dressed in a black suit with a black tie and dress-shirt. They didn't need to be told, but every cadet was wearing their ceremonial suit; Squall opted to go as a civilian. Hyne he suddenly felt ridiculous. Going over to his closet he pulled out another pair of clothes to change into. He's NOT going.
The air around Balamb town was stiff and cool for April. Birds seemed to sing with a bit more clarity then they had in March; the trees in bloom seemed like they gave enough of a damn to be a tree rather than an ugly, leafless - - for lack of better term - - corpse. The sun is out, but the thing with that is that the wind is a biting 60 degrees - - a common occurrence with the ocean surrounding the place and all. But for some reason, it seemed a bit more ominous than being just the temperature.
Students and cadets from Balamb Garden, Trabia Garden, and the Neo Galbadia - who are staying in the hotel - came from their residents to the funeral location; friends that the 19 year old made here and there in towns within each country - - some Squall a bit, and the others knew well enough. And others not so much, all came to pay their respects to the deceased.
Laguna Loire came. Selphie didn't so much as place a hand to her gallant-loving cheek in his presence, being too distraught over the whole situation.
As seats filled, everyone kept quiet and to themselves; they were either thinking of how to act or thinking of what to say to honor the fallen soldier. Most of them didn't seem as though they believed it. They checked the faces of others around them, waiting for someone to stifle a giggle over the cruel joke; however, the grim faces returned the curious eyes back down to their laps with the new knowledge that this is very much serious.
A well-dressed man walked over to the podium with a book in hand, ready to speak; he looked as though this was just any other work day. Which, to him, it is; however, to everyone else this is something sort of new and very unpleasant. This was for Irvine Kinneas: full of life, live forever, invisible, flirty, Irvine. He's not the guy that walks around like he's keeping count for his miserable days on the planet. He's not the guy that slips a little something fishy into his own food so that he can, unexpectedly, die. No. Not Irvine. Their Irvine, Squall's Irvine... is someone who lives.
"Hey, where's Squall?" Zell whispered to Quistis, who was the one that went to their friend's dorm to tell him of the funeral time.
Dabbing her nose into a tissue, she shook her head without a word to accompany it.
"I don't blame him." Says Seifer. "I wish that I wasn't here."
"Seifer don't be so rude." Zell snips.
"Who's being rude? If anyone is being a shit-head it's Kinneas."
"Seifer Almasy, that's disgusting." Quistis chimed-in overhearing their conversation. "And if you're really going to act that way, than maybe you should leave."
"Gladly." He stands.
"Sit down!" Growl the two making the fidgety ex-knight take his seat in a huff.
"Would anyone like to say a few words about Mr. Kinneas?" Asked the director.
Taking in a nervous breath Zell stood and walked up to the podium. In honor of Irvine, he wore dark purple socks. A discrete dress code to them all, as they knew it to be their friend's favorite color, but they had to wear their military uniforms as a show of respect for a fallen, fellow soldier. He has his words written out. He felt that he'd forget most of it or he'd crack under the pressure when trying to remember it.
"I hate things like this... saying goodbye, and mixing it with nice things like that's all there will be - - this one instant and this one goodbye to someone you care about. It's weird! I can't say goodbye or treat this like it's the end - - ha, even with my morning amnesia, I could never forget about a guy like Irvine."
A scatter of nods went around, agreeing with Zell's kind words.
"I admit, at first he bugged me. He just seemed so full of himself, and too flirtatious when he should have been taking things seriously. But, I also remember when my feelings changed. When I considered him my friend.." He felt tears welling. "like how I'd sneak into his dorm or he'd sneak into mine early weekend to watch old cartoons together, and we'd just laugh the morning away. And... anytime Selphie would bounce down the halls in the way she does over the holidays saying: "tis the season", I'd say duck season to his rabbit season."
He snickered softly at images of Irvine in a winter sweater, his having complained for days about how cold it is. How the school should crank up the heat a little more. "When it comes to fun and goofing around, Irvine's like my best friend. But he was serious, too. The few times that I got to see that side of him, I really felt like I was being understood instead of talking to someone that was spacing out on me while I talked myself blue in the face. ...I honestly can't say goodbye to any of that, or him... I hope that none of you can." Wiping a hand over his cheek, he stepped away from the podium, sullen while returning to his seat where he received a comforting arm around his shoulders from his lover.
Rinoa stood next; her nerves were just as frazzled as Zell's. She took several steadying breaths before she could speak. "When I'd first met all the guys, Quistis, Selphie, Zell, and Squall I felt like an outsider. It was a cold place to be in, honestly; here you're with people that have a fine relationship and understanding of each other, and you're just a former client who had hired their time then went along with them everywhere else due to circumstances. And honestly, at first, that is how I felt it to be as well. But the longer I was with them, the more I got to know them and care for them as friends of mine. I was hoping that they had begun to see me the same way. I felt wanted and cared for, but... I don't know, it kind of lacked something."
She paused to think. "When we all visited Trabia they spoke about their past together, and I felt lost at that point; but Irvine shook those fears from me and made me think otherwise. Then, little by little I felt the feelings that they had for each other were projected towards me, as well. It was wonderful. So I'll always feel close to Irvine for helping me feel included and part of the team." She wiped a tear. "I like to think that Irvine's found everything he wanted, so leaving it.. he won't be sad or have any regrets, because he'll never stop seeing or loving the people dearest to him. He got to love them to the fullest and receive that same love. He wouldn't want us to be sad. He'd want us to keep on doing what we do that makes him love us." She stepped away from the podium with eyes spilling tears, cheeks stained with wet race tracks.
Quistis was next. She had more composure over herself than Zell and Rinoa, refusing to cry in front of the crowd. But she planned to let the floodgates open the moment she got back to her room in Garden, where she can be alone and feel the pain of loss. The woman can't help but think that the absent Squall is off doing that very thing right now. But he'll probably be by later to pay his respects in private, rather then be amongst the others who will listen to his private thoughts and feelings for his lover.
Squall does not like to share when it comes to that emotional storage shed he calls a brain.
"He's got the biggest mouth I've ever come across; if he were a student of mine back then, I can't imagine how much gil would be wasted on headache medicine from long days of telling him to be quiet or stop misbehaving. But the only thing bigger than his mouth was his heart. He may not have known it from the reactions his flirting received, but Irvine's flirting was always harmless and sweet, it made you feel... I don't know, appreciated and appreciative that someone noticed little things about you - superficial or emotional, he picked up on it. It really helped just to be seen and heard... I only wish that I'd taken more time to get to know him as he'd grown rather than his younger self, so that I could tell stories instead of: if I' this and that. I hope that the Heavens treat him well."
Someone the Orphanage Gang doesn't know went next to speak about the deceased. Telling sweet stories of how he and Irvine would sneak out of their dorm at night and head down to the kitchen in order to swipe a tasty treat from the fridge or cubberds, to eat and talk. He spoke of how Irvine always laughed and was either in on or the starter of a lot of trouble that went on in Galbadia. That he was not one to take authority with a serious face. The guy was very sweet, and ended it the same way Quistis had ended her eulogy before walking back to his seat.
Seifer sighed in a rather annoyed manner when Zell gave his shoulder a shove, telling him to go next. Walking up to the podium the ex-knight leans heavily on the sturdy wood giving the microphone a tap with his index finger before speaking in a clipped tone. "Irvine's a bastard. And to be frank, I hate him now. Because the one thing I liked about him is that unlike everyone else I know, he's never bothered me. He never insulted me, or got in my way - like Trepe said... I would have liked more time with him." He shrugged nonchalantly. "But it doesn't matter now, because I hate him on the count that his being dead has caused him to do the one thing he's never done.. and that's bother me."
Seifer's words got mixed reactions as he took his seat smiling at the chatter he'd caused. Zell glared at his boyfriend; he was sure that if Squall was present, Seifer would be sporting a black eye for sure. Selphie, full of sniffles and sobs, went next. She's visibly shaking, and for a moment everyone thought she might return to her seat rather than say anything, but the girl cleared her voice, giving her head a quick shake, as if asking her nerves to obey her and stop acting up until she's ready.
"He was... he was, to me, that one person. Like Seifer was saying; Irvine, out of everyone I've ever come across, he made me uncomfortable. He made me quiet, and..." She sniffled again. "thoughtful," She laughs a second after saying that. "Before Irvine came to Balamb I was all over the place, bouncing off walls and talking a mile a mintute. ...But Irvine kept me grounded enough to want things... to want a home, to want friends, and stable memories that don't go flying all around when something else fun comes along. That's why I started my journals on the computer, to keepsake things, and people, and places dear to me. So that I'll never forget them. So yeah, it's weird to say it, but, Irvine gave me calm. He gave me the courage that I didn't know I lacked to stand still and slow down." She smiled. "And when the thoughts I had hidden away that I'm a girl with nothing to lose surfaced, I beat them away with the mighty force that, yeah I do. What I have is awesome, a life, friends, family... Irvine showed me that, just by being around and remembering me even when I didn't remember me. So now, the happiness in my head" that made the girl begin to cry so when she spoke her words garbled in her throat. "exist in my heart, too."
Matron walked over to the sobbing young woman and held her. The embrace was perfect. Such a tiny gesture felt like a mountain's love just from the care Edea Kramer has for all of them. When Selphie was sure she'd be all right, she gave her second mother a nod before returning to her seat. The tiny mountain took the stand next. With a voice calm like the ocean in summer, and gentle like the breeze on a warm fall afternoon, she spoke about Irvine.
About how Irvine, to her, a Mr. You've-got-it. She smiled sweetly. Anytime anyone had wanted something, he'd just be right there to get it, or help hold it or carry it. Edea's words had them all imagine the skinny little six-year-old holding the heaviest end of something with all his might. No regard for himself, though, he would tell everyone else to be careful, while in the same instant playing with the other kids as hard as he could. You couldn't tell Irvine was anything but a happy little boy, until something was too much for all his might to hold back.. then he would just sneak somewhere to cry and cry, until he'd felt better.
"I first saw that, and thought: it's so sad to see this boy hiding his pain like this. So, without his permission I scooped him up and held him." She laughs then. "He fought me like a baby Chicobo caught in a fence, insisting that he was playing a game and making up a story. But I held him... and when he knew he was stuck, he told me his sorrows. And though he never said it out loud, he was very grateful that I had listened to him. Irvine was a young man but... a part of me will keep seeing that crying boy who smiled for me; not because he wanted to go on hiding, but because he knew he no longer had to." Nodding she says softly. "Every side of him will always be loved, and always missed."
...
Squall rests his back on the cold wood of the peer beneath him; letting the full of the sun warm his face. He can't go to the funeral, he just can't. All those people gazing at him, listening closely to his every word. Wanting access memories and information they don't really care about, nor need to know. All of them hungry for what he's saying, interested only in the words being said just because they're from his usually closed mouth. It's sick.
'I hate funerals. I hate the way the world acts: sobbing, remembering - - Those weirdos who manage calm and collected, but later they freak out taking it out on anything in their path.' He frowned a little more deeply. 'Hn. I guess I could fall into that catagory. No... I'm not gonna do this to myself - - it's bullshit! Irvine's dead... Yeah, right. There is no body. Why am I the only one paying attention to that?!' He closed his sun-brightened metal-blue eyes. 'This is all so damned surreal. The thing I hate the most, I guess, is that once it's over - really over. People don't look at the large scale of it the same way anymore. It's no longer the lack of someone being around. It's more of a quick "huh, that reminds me of so-and-so, imagine that". Then they move on with the rest of the day as if it's nothing more than a memory.'
He glared angrily at the sky. If clouds were able to feel, they would hurry by, to avoid the death glare. 'You say, I'll never forget this person or that person.. and sure, that's true... But, it's only for a short time. But when you just brush them off because to you its been long enough, its almost as if you've lost respect and care for them. The most the dead get for this wonderful memory they've given you is a scoffed out: "huh".'
Opening his eyes, he sat up. 'Not me. I'll always remember and honor Irvine. I'll do good by your memory until you come back and can do it for yourself. He's lost, but he'll be back. I know he will. They'll laugh, whisper about me... But what do they know? They love him as a friend, I know him intimately - - not just through sex, but in every way... I can answer any question about him, I'll bet.' His shoulders sag. 'Listen to me... if I knew him all that well I wouldn't need to prove it. Why does it have to be the greater the love the greater the loss? Why can't it be that losing them is easier, so you don't have to feel hollow and alone; then later on, when you're ready, you can feel the loss.'
Standing, the downhearted young man dipped his head and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his blue suit pants; with heavy legs he left his sitting place to go back to Garden. The funeral should be over by now. Everyone was going to Garden in order to eat and politely gossip over what happened. Give out empathy. Maybe he shouldn't go back to Garden just yet. He isn't ready to answer the dumb question of: Where have you been? When it should really be: Why didn't you go to your own boyfriend's funeral?
Why? Why?! Because, honestly, he might have socked whomever was the first to say: You showed up. No. He'll just take a walk for a little while, and decide what to do. How to feel... Then he'll return to Garden and sleep. Sleep always freed him from the outside nightmares.. Even if he had to be reminded of the ones roaming inside.
Ellone stood at the end of the road watching Squall slowly walk along, as he's taking his time to exit the docks. In her arms, bundled up, was Kait. He sleeping or very comfortable in the young woman's arms; he's not moving about or grabbing for things he can reach with his tiny arms.
Squall saw his sister. He wanted to continue by without a word, but he would never in his life snub his big sister. Especially right now. He's longed to have her back in his life so much, that he would never forgive himself for being rude to her. So instead of swirving out of her path, he met her face on.
"If you're going to ask why I didn't go.." He starts to say, but is cut off by seeing her shaking her head.
"I came to take you with me, while I look around for an apartment for me and Kait."
"An apartment? Did Mrs. Dincht ask you to leave?" He wouldn't believe that if he'd seen it. The woman is practically a foul-mouthed saint. She'll get her hands dirty and fix you dinner at the same time. She'd never tell Ellone and the baby to leave. But he had to ask, to be sure.
"No. It's nothing like that. I just don't want to be a burden to her." She looked fondly at the child in her arms. He's gotten so big for a nine month old. "I just feel that as Kait gets older, we're going to need more space to ourselves."
Squall, again, feels that stab of guilt run through him. He's turned his big sister into a single mother without even meaning to. There's something! "I'll make sure that Kait's missing mother is found, her or one of his aunts or uncles - even an older cousin, so that you're not stuck with him for too long."
"Squall, he's not a problem, really. I just would like a nice place to stay that's just for me, that's here in town; so that I can be closer to you right now." She smiled. "You're going to need me, Squall." Ellone laid it out for him. He's not a child, he can take the truth. "I thought that your not showing up meant that you were taking things badly. I can see you're holding up, but, for when you're not... I want to be here."
"Thank you for being concerned, but I'm not gonna come undone - - I've been away from Irvine for long periods of time before. We're not joined at the hip. Until he comes back..." He dared her to correct him, continuing when she does not. "I'm just going to think of him as just being on a long mission." He shrugged. "No big deal."
"Squall..." She starts to say.
Their attention was taken from each other when a black towncar drove up beside them. The window rolled down but not quick enough to prevent the passanger inside from popping his head on the upper frame.
"Ow." He admits before laughing it off, rubbing his head. "Ellone! Hi! Hey, Squall!" Laguna greets them. Holding out a finger to ask for a moment, then popped the door open stepping out of the heater warmed car into the cold of the Balamb peer. He shivered a second from the temperature change.
"Elle, here you are. I thought I lost you after... well.." He trailed off, hand scratching shyly at the back of his head not knowing how to bring up the subject of the funeral. "Do you need a lift? It's chilly out." He held himself in a hug as if to show just how cold it was. "Oh, you can come too, Squall; are you going back to Garden with your friends?"
"No. I've decided to walk around for a bit."
"Come on, it'll be fun riding together - talking. Get to know each other a bit."
"I said "no". I have more important things to do." He crossed his arms over his chest as if to say: ask me again, if you dare.
"Right, wandering, you said something about that." He sighed sadly.
If a clown were to riding a bear, who's riding a unicycle was to pass by it would look less awkward than Laguna and Squall talking to each other. With the way Squall Leonhart not Squall Loire brickwalls the man at every attempt his father makes to have them be pals. Squall may not want him as a father but, Laguna hoped, his estranged son could at least look at him as a friend, right?
"I really wish you'd reconsider." Laguna stated. "But, you said you've got other things to do. So, I'll see you around. Come on, Ellie."
"Okay."
Eyeing Squall with a sad expression, Sis walked over to the guy she will always think of as a little brother, planting a kiss on his scarred forehead before she turned to get into the car. Laguna held Kait for her, handing him back before climbing in himself once she and the baby were situated.
"Bye, Squall." His father said softly.
Rolling his eyes to the bright blue sky, Squall says in a voice low enough to hope that it wasn't heard. "Wait."
Before he knew it, he, Ellone, Laguna and Kait went searching for an apartment for her and the baby to stay in. By the time they found a nice sized two bedroom apartment, they had a small lunch together at Crab Lure, then Squall was dropped off at Garden shortly afterwards. Exhausted and drained of company and pleasantries, he fell fast asleep.
...
"Squall? Hey, Squall? Wake up." A southern accent whispered before it says in a louder tone. "Hyne, if I want you awake then why the heck am I whispering? Squall? Get up, darlin'."
Opening his eyes, he smiled up at his boyfriend; it was a simple happy smile, just for Irvine. The one he always gives him when they're reunited after time apart. "What time is it?" He sat up, instantly alert, never wanting to be drowsy a day in his life. And if he is, it'll be when he's alone. Don't ask him why, it's just really lame to have sleep fog clouding you when you wake up.
"I don't know. I wanted to make sure you're up and dressed for my 'becoming SeeD' party." The sniper grabbed the lapels of his formal jacket between thumb and fingers making a face as though he were the most grand person in all the world when he cleaned up.
And to Squall, he really was. He loves the way Irvine sees fit to tie his hair back in a braid while seeing that his tresses stay slicked off to one side. Irvine is so handsome. He wanted to be handsome, but anytime he hears a compliment about his looks people often say: "So beautiful". It's mixed with long ignorant stares that he doesn't want. Squall likes how defined his face is turning out now.
No more baby curves, no more pouty mouth and puppy dog eyes that makes people turn their head hard enough to snap their neck. He has yet to hear his lover call him handsome, but he doesn't hate hearing Irvine say that's he's good-looking. No swearing like he's thinking about it lecherously. Just a plain and simple: you're good-looking.
"I won't forget; you put up post-its everywhere."
"That I did. I feel kinda cheap about getting the position, I mean, I belong to Galdbadia; and y'all just took me in like that." He snapped his fingers.
"Helps when Matron is the headmistress."
Irvine snickered with his - - eternally, non-laugh laugh. "I guess that's true." He knew how Squall meant it. Matron knew how good Irvine was at what he does, so why not make him a SeeD? He's SeeD material.
Standing from the bed, he walked over to the mirror where Irvine is admiring his reflection. Beside him, Squall cocked his head at their relefection. Glancing over, Irvine smiled as he wrapped an arm around the his boyfriend's shoulders.
"Cute enough to get hitched, right?"
"I don't know about that." Replied Squall. "I was just thinking about something."
"What?"
"It's not important. I just wanted to know..." His words are chopped off when his boyfriend's embrace loosened around his shoulders. "Irvine," But it was pointless to say, through the mirror he saw him fading away. Fading with the dream he's waking up from. And, though futile, he whispered. "Irvine."
Eyes open, he looked around his dorm room. Though he hadn't expected the person that it is, he knew that someone would be there. "What are you doing here? I don't feel like talking."
Laguna pushed his side sweep of hair behind his ear, glad the rest had been pulled into a low ponytail that rests along his back between his shoulder blades. "Squall, you may not think you need this, but I think you do... to talk." He explained. "It's hard losing someone close to you - I mean, I don't know your relationship, or you personally.. but I know what it's like to lose people. I've lost two people very important to me, the worst one was the love I never really got to know... it hurt.."
"Irvine is not dead." Squall cuts in. "Irvine's on a mission, lost somewhere. When he comes back you'll all feel really stupid."
Laguna laughed at that. "It's amazing when you're on the other side of denial." He recalled how he felt when his mind righted, and he was informed about Julia's death. "It's kinda scary. Well... I don't think talking to you will be easy when I wanna do so, maybe, someday, you'll willingly come to me to talk? I'll be here - - well, there for you anytime." He stood, giving his leg a quick rub; the nerves forever tightening when his emotional nerves do. "I'm sorry for bothering you. Have a nice sleep." He hobbled to the door. "I... I just kind of thought it would be nice to talk to someone who can actually understand your pain, rather than say they know when they really don't. Imagining pain, and truly knowing it are two differnt things, Squall. Remember that. See ya."
Squall looked after the man. Laguna had such a sad expression on his face, that he felt a pang of guilt for putting it there. He seems to be disappointing everyone all over the place. He let his friends down when he wanted to continue searching, though, they knew it was futile; he'd let Ellone down by not wanting to talk to her about Irvine. And now he's letting Laguna down, because the man wants to sympathize with him over something they both have in common, though, to Squall they don't.
He can slowly feel that this whole 'Irvine's dead' thing is going to put him right back in that same place he'd been two years ago. And he just wished that people would stop expecting things from him. Covering his face with the pillow, he took a deep inhale waiting for sleep to take over. He'd rather be in a place where everything makes sense and is normal. It'd be just his luck he dreams about giant robots, that hold you hostage in its metal chest.
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Snow Drift