Adult-FanFiction.org : Final Fantasy

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
- 18
- 19
- 20
It has been four days since Imari's conversation with Scout. The human Shumi needed four days to think of the right words to say; how to ask to leave without sounding like an ungrateful ass. He really has come to feel like a true member of the tribe over the years. He's seen so much, and done so much. But he still craved being out in the world. He felt no need for village life every day.
A nod of affirmation and courage to himself, he stood from his modified bed and headed out to the Elder's home. He waved to the others he saw on the way over. He wondered if they knew what his purpose was for the visit? Did Scout tell anyone or hint around that something was going to happen? Do they care? He is only a guest. A mere human whom they rescued. This departure could have been a quiet desire of many villagers. No. Even as he wondered such things he knew it was only the knots in his stomach trying to make it easier on him so he doesn't feel bad.
He knocked timidly on the door. The first attempt fell-short of the door then he was sure to make contact after redoing his hand into a fist.
"Enter." Called Attendant through a small window after three minutes wait.
Imari hoped he wasn't interrupting anything. He entered the large home, and followed the attendant after a quick greeting. "Hello, Elder. How have you been?"
"Wonderful. How about yourself?"
"I'm in great shape, but mentally I'm kinda all over the place."
"That's too bad. I presume that's the cause of this visit?"
"Yeah. It's because lately I've been kinda missing a certain feeling... It's hard to explain."
"Just state your feelings."
"I'd like to move out of the village, please."
Elder smirked into a laugh after the "Please". It was such a strange thing to say. "Karver, as you are not a native Shumi, you are free to come and go as please. We have not kidnapped you, my friend."
"Oh, no! Nothing like that!" Imari waved his hands. "I just.. I don't know, it's like a weird calling."
"This could be good for you. You came here a young man with no name; your leaving could find that missing truth." He stood from his long chaise. "You will be greatly missed, your absence will not go unnoticed. However, we will always be a part of you. We hope you feel the same."
"I do. You guys are like my brothers. I'm gonna miss you all." He smiled warmly. He really will miss them.
"When do you see your departing date?" Asked Elder. "We shall have a feast prepared."
"I'm not entirely sure. I'll need to search listings."
"Keep us informed. And.. Keep in touch."
"I plan to. Can I still work as your carver?" He shook hands with Elder.
"That would be greatly appreciated. We get many orders because of your work."
"Naah, I'm no better than anyone else here."
Elder laughed heartily. "You have integrated as a Shumi, that's very evident."
That had been the nicest thing Elder has ever said to him. But the kindness didn't end there. Two days after he'd found a place in Winhill, the tribe surprised him not only with a feast but a party. They left the dome and danced and sang. They lit sparklers and set off fireworks. It was cold out, but none of it was felt due to the warmth in everyone's heart. They teased Imari about cutting his hair short rather than rocking the full Shumi of bald head. Imari decided just past the ears was fine enough.
When dawn came, Imari packed up his things. He strapped them to a Chocobo named Charger, then headed for the dome exit. Elder was there with Attendant and the four guards who usually stand at the entrance. He was given a bundle.
"I hope you find yourself, Imari Karver. I.K." He bowed to him. "If there is anything you ever need, call upon us. We will be there."
Imari smiled. He needed someone to change his mind. However his sudden flood of loneliness was overridden by a sudden thrill to get out there and see what awaited.
# #
Imari Karver has been all over the lands dividing Winter Island from the town of Winhill. It was an excellent little adventure. Sort of like a personal early or perhaps late birthday present to himself. He and Charger just enjoyed a good traverse of the land. They took photos in Lallapolooza Canyon, they camped in Hasberry Plains, Rushfall Forest, swam about in warmer climates at Mandy Beach. And when finally arriving in Winhill Bluffs he spent one more day outdoors just enjoying the land.
The sleepy town of Winhill was pleasant and inviting. His home, though he tried to find something small to fit a single person was large enough for four to live comfortably, granted they paired up with bedrooms. It's a medium sized home with two bedrooms, one bathroom, that's downstairs; a tiny kitchen that's about the length of a single wall and the rest of the downstairs space is the living room. Apart from the bathroom, a single closet is also downstairs. Every floor in the home is polished wood, the walls are polished exposed logs. It's a cabin. Its cozy and a beautiful little home.
He entered the place to a great surprise. Several members of Shumi had beat him to his home and set it up for him. They hanged photos of landscapes from all the places they had gone for deliveries. The main attraction was of Winter Island. He could have cried. In fact, he did cry, though not over the picture. His tears were shed from the joy his second closest friend, Cook, has evolved into a Moomba. He's lost his ability to speak, but he was somewhat the same guy. It was remarkable.
They talked and laughed, they ate a good meal, and said their goodbyes once letting it be known that they would see each other often.
Imari looked around his silent home. He smiled to himself. Happy and ready to see what life awaited him in this new situation.
March 2014.
Imari walked off the train after it pulled to a stop at the station. He's home after helping with a job in Deling City. He removed his robes from over his clothes as he reached town, carrying them over his arm. The thought had occurred to wear normal clothes, but when helping the tribe he felt the robes and hat were necessary. Like a uniform. He does still work with and for the Shumis creating and selling crafts. He has another job in Winhill making fishing lures. Odd, he knows. But, once you've learned how, it's easy work, and kinda fun. He wasn't good at it at first, almost got fired the first month. But as time passed, he got better. He at least knows the names of all types, knot styles, and the materials width to put on each hook.
He paused to watch some kids playing soccer in a field. He removed the wide, shielding hat. One kid pointed at him; he waved before continuing home.
"Hello, Imari!" An older man, though not elderly, waved to him when spotting the woodworker.
Imari raised his hand.
"Caught you laughing earlier; a good joke?" He questioned, lowering his voice when Karver was closer to him.
"I saw a couple kids playing war. It reminded me of someone." Damned if he knew who. He peeked beyond the open hood of the car; his neighbor had yet to get the old truck working. "I heard one of them say: "There goes that weird guy", am I so different from everyone else?"
His neighbor laughed. "Kids are a wonder. My nephew was the same way with my other brother. Hated him something fierce - we never did know why, they'd only just met that day it happened." He shrugged out an oil smudged hand. "Must have been enemies in a past life."
"I think it might be my work clothes." He started for his house.
"Wanna stop by for lunch? You ate yet?"
"Not yet. I was gonna grab a sandwich out." He opened the front door. Imari stepped aside when his pet bird seemed to try to race inside before him. "I'll come over."
"Perfect. I'll tell Beth."
Imari closed the door. Beth is his neighbor's daughter. She's visiting. And she's the same age as him 20, single - also, same as him. Brown hair, cool-blue eyes, and a nice figure to get distracted by. He looked. Who wouldn't. But once he felt the air of a set-up, he lost interest of pursuit. A looked after relationship is just creepy.
Pal chirped loudly in his ear, his beak pecked at his hair.
"Alright, ok. Don't eat me." He grabbed a granola fruit bar from the cabinet and pulled it from the wrapper feeding it to the bird.
Pal was growing more and more, it was interesting how much. He's searched countless books, but so far no bird has matched his feathered friend. He felt a need to protect the possibly endangered species at all costs.
"I'm going to go have an uncomfortable lunch. You stay put."
After using the bathroom, and freshening himself up a bit, he then went over to his neighbor's boobytrap.
May 2014.
"I know, I know. If I think too hard about it, it'll never come back to me." He says to the fussy animal.
But it has been coming to him, in little ways; at least, that's what he thought all the weird things about him were... flashes of who he used to be. Once when helping with a delivery, he and Scout saw a monster; but instead of reaching for the handmade bow and arrows they use for taking the creatures down, he held up arms as if holding a large gun. It caught him off-guard hard enough to get him sliced on the cheek by the whipping tale of a Glacial Eye.
Pal didn't take it well, and attacked full force. It pecked and clawed at it with enough animosity to make a person wonder about the dangers of a bird. Thankfully he recovered from his stupor in time to take the creature down with Scout's assistance. The Shumi asked him what happened, he's usually cool headed about their sparse encounters with beasts. Karver could only say that it was another flashback.
Over the course of the four years there have been a few more things: he would say weird things, or crave specific things to eat; however, none of it never jogged anything hard enough to bring back the person that's hiding - if there's a person hiding - beneath his skin. So another year, another many days within it, he eventually just stopped having them.
Which is why he'd recently started staring at the clothes he'd hung up so carefully in his dressing closet. The hanger is resting on a little hook against the door so that the outfit sort of looks as if its standing against the door rather than is hanging. He kept trying to picture the owner wearing them. He wanted to find out who he was, who he knew, if he was with anyone.
Imari recently had his heart broken by Lynn Tildee. She told him he was fine as a friend, but he gave off a vibe she didn't click with. He was kinda like a shut-in. He couldn't help it! Shumi life. She'd be the same, if she lived there. But the misunderstood rejection brought about a loneliness in him he's never felt before. They were getting close, been on dates, travelled to Timber for a sports game. Which is why, after she dumped him he felt no like towards anyone else. It was so sudden.
He could understand her reason, though. If you don't fit, you don't fit. It still hurt. He wants the feeling gone. He had began to see a life with Lynn. He wants to be those people in Fisherman's Horizon that he saw once upon a delivery. A love and a child at his side; joking and happy. Sharing all the emotions together. A beautiful life with his family. Oh well.
"What would you like to do tonight before bed? Wanna sing? Wanna eat?"
The bird only hopped from foot to foot on the bed before tucking its head beneath a raised wing.
"Sleep, huh? Sounds good to me. I've got big plans for tomorrow." Standing, he closed the cabinet then returned to bed. Removing his pajama shirt he climbed beneath the covers wrapping an arm around the tired animal. "Goodnight, Pal." The bird made a sound before drifting off.
Imari had a dream, a reoccurring dream of the intense pain he must have experienced before his amnesiatic blackout. It hurt all over his body. The bright, blinding platinum light seared into his corneas. The acid of pain stung his veins. He woke up in a fit of tears, dry coughs, and a need to scream. After splashing his face, he grabbed his earbuds and drowned out his pain through music, leaving him distracted enough to rest peacefully.
...
It was eight twenty two in the morning when a woman stopped by Imari's place. The elderly woman had a big smile on her wrinkled face, and a load of pastries held by a basket resting on her arm. She hummed to wave off his helping her inside. Her hand shooed him aside.
"I brought you some of those danishes you like so much."
"Aaaw, thank you Mrs. Keaton." He greeted with a peck to her cheek after pulling her in for a hug.
"Anything for you, lad; you know, my husband doesn't like to eat my baking anymore - he has an irritable bowels when it comes to the sweet stuff."
Imari scrunched his face in distaste at the breakfast conversation, but said nothing while returning to the stove to flip his omelet.
Mrs. Keaton helped herself to a cup of coffee and a seat at the table. The large bird dipped its head to her for a pat which she lovingly offers. Imari often sees the woman over weekend mornings. He wasn't sure how it started, could be because he was new and on his first day in the home he nearly burned his kitchen down trying to cook chicken cutlets. This sad attempt promted to having the woman coming over some nights with food for him, or simply coming over with ingredients prepared to give a cooking lessons. After two years of teaching and tasting from the woman, he can now hold his own in the kitchen. Karver is great at cooking in the tribe, but he hasn't had much experience with frying meat having lived a near vegetarian lifestyle.
"So, Mr. Karver, what's a young boy like you up to today?"
"I'm writing a letter."
"To whom." She sips her coffee.
"A girl I like, but, I need a woman's opinion on it." Walking the plate over to the table; he set a second fork down beside the plate, in case the elderly woman decided to help herself. "I don't want it to be cheesy or anything. I wanna get my point across and get good results out of it."
Smiling, Mrs. Keaton pat the young lover's hand gently. "You're twenty three years old, and very handsome; any woman would want a guy as fine as you."
"She doesn't even notice me." Imari replied. Taking a slice from his eggs he chews it thoughtfully.
"You're kidding? Is she blind?"
"No. I don't think so, at least, I mean... I've been going outside to get my mail at the exact time she comes out to get hers. She's never once said hello."
The wispy laugh came from the old woman's throat. "Hyne bless you, son." She laughed again. "Why not make the first move and say "hello" yourself?"
Imari shrugged. "I don't wanna come off as too pushy; she's probably already caught on that I'm grabbing my mail when she does." Shaking his head he frowns. "She probably sees me as desperate; and no letter in the world will make a difference."
"Who is this girl?"
"Denise McMahon."
"Denise - there's your first problem; my husband wrote me love notes, and that was many ions ago." She waved her hand through the air. "Its too old-fashioned. Women today - your Denise especially - they want a power taker, an assertive male."
Chewing a sweet pastry he nods. "I'm not sure if I can be that guy, though."
"Tell you what, the Westons are having a costume party at their mansion next week." Standing she grabbed the shawl that she'd taken off when entering the home. "I happen to know that your crush is going as Alice from that movie. Why not dress as a character from the same? Its a good conversation starter."
"But I'm not invited." He turned in his chair then stood to see the woman to the door.
"Oh, you're invited. My invite said: plus one. Evan has a bad hip, he can't come with me - not to dance, anyway. So I'll invite you."
Thinking it over, he grins. "You'd really do that for me?"
"I'd really do that for you." She grabbed his chin giving his head a shake by it. "You're like the nephew I've always wanted."
Snickering, he asked. "Why nephew?"
"Because my son is an angel; why would I trade him for you?" She winked teasingly. "I'll call you on the day. Get your costume so you'll be ready."
"Okay."
"Bye, bye dear."
"Bye." Closing the door he strolled over to the table with pep in his step and a firmer appetite. "This is gonna be great; I can go right up to her and ask her out. I'll keep my nerves back by getting the sort of costume that covers my face a bit - not much - but a bit."
The bird chirped in response. Finishing his breakfast he placed the dishes away after cleaning them. He then marched up the stairs to dress for the day. He has to get to the market quick, because he's running out of food. After he put everything away in the pantry; he grabbed his uniform. He's going to Dollet to help with some more deliveries. He's already done with his carving work for the month. Apart from the twenty for the order, Imari made three special ones just on a whim: one Chocobo, a wolf, and a lion. They were so finely crafted you'd swear the little brown carvings were going to come to life and move around; they'd be blind right now, because they're missing their eyes.
For the personal three he's crafted, Karver wanted to use some life, shadow, and water stones from the village to really give it some flare and individuality. One was for him, another for the Shumis once he sees them, and three would be for Denise, well, if she agreed to go out with him. Giving presents isn't old-school, is it? Although, he sorta questioned giving the woman the lion, but something about her presence felt noble to him.
Later that evening.
Imari Karver slipped a purple t-shirt over his head he slides an arm through the sleeve then brushed his hand down the wrinkles; kicking out of his pajamas and boxers he paced to the dresser then stepped into a new pair of boxers and from the drawer, beneath his underwear drawer, he removed a pair of brown jeans. Once he's zipped, a quick glance in the mirror and he approved of his look.
He then heads downstairs to grab his sneakers. He didn't bother brushing his hair, he's got it kept up in a nappy braid down his back, unable to really take care of it properly. The stuff grew like a weed, he even had it cut right up to the base of his neck... but over time it grew back like no change had been made. He does though keep it to a good six inches rather than the twenty four it had been back on Winter Island.
"Are you coming with me?" He asked the bird.
Graceful, large, wings flap rapidly lifting the bird from its perch and it flew over to its owner ready to take its place upon the young man's shoulder.
Snickering, Imari confided. "Its a boxing match everytime you come over and land shoulder first." Patting the bird's head, he added. "You've really gotten big. I wonder what kind of bird you are? I can't say that I've ever seen one like you before." He stepped outside.
Imari loved the air in May. Crisp then warm. It was soothing, if not jarring you alert by sudden temp shifts.
The party came sooner than he had anticipated. He almost refused to go, but Mrs. Keaton was not going to let him back down if he really felt strongly for this woman. But couldn't the elderly woman understand it from a man's point, of how hard it is to say things to a woman? There's always that sense of failure looming; that she'll laugh - worst of all - she'll tell her friends, and it will go from laughter to a laughing stock. Maybe it was good that he was talked out of writing her a letter - or at least sending it, as he's written several letters. Having read them over during the course of his waiting out the party, he realized that they're kind of too much. They sound like the build-up to a proposal, when all he'd like are a few dates here and there.
At the current time of 9:12 pm; Imari stood before the long mirror in his bedroom looking himself over. The March Hare stared back at him; adding, bucked false-teeth, the look was complete. Laughter can get to a woman too, right? The door bell rang and down the stairs he went to answer it.
"Nice! You're a bee, right?" He surmised by the black and yellow.
"I'm a honey bee." Corrects Keaton.
"Of course, my mistake." He smiled.
"I see you chose... I'm not sure.. Goth? Very cute look on you, the light blue compliments your eyes."
"But my eyes aren't..."
Cutting him off she bellowed. "Let's go my dear, time is wasting... and this grandma wants to dance a little before her date ditches her."
"I promise I won't ditch you - for long." He adds as a joke receiving a playful pop to the arm.
...
The mansion is beautifully decorated in masquerading masks as large as the manufacturing company could make them; glass diamonds hanged from here and there, gold curtains have been hung only to make some parts of the home known as off limits, though, you can clearly hear a few sneaky couples behind them making out in the dark cover the curtains provide. Long tables littered with the most delicious looking food are lining one side of the room; some of the dancers carry plates of tasty morsals around the dance floor, so they can eat and don't have to stop moving to the up-beat live music.
It all reminds Imari of something very familiar, but he can't recall what or from where as he totters about the floor with the elderly woman, who hasn't let her age show one bit since they arrived.
"Don't be afraid to dip me, Imari. I won't brake."
Doing as she discreetly asked, he laughs right along with the delighted woman who's straightened back up. "Don't look now, but the girl of your dreams is over by the punch bowl. Go on and give her an invite to a dance."
"Now?"
"No, when the music stops - yes, now." Releasing her grasp of his hand, she waves him away. "Now shoo, shoo."
Back straight, shoulders back, head high, Imari walks across the room over to the refreshments. Casually he grabs an empty glass from the table. He remembers exactly what he'd planned to say and do. "Its nice to see similar taste in costumes." He says in a dry voice. Maybe he should have drank some punch first. Turning, he grabs the ladel, pouring the bright yellow liquid into the glass.
"Hm?" Asks Denise.
"You're Alice, from the movie?" He points to her clothing. "I'm March."
"Oh! Oh, yes. My son thought it'd be cute." She blushed.
Shocked by that, he inquired. "You have a son?"
Nodding the woman points him out on the dance floor. "He's visiting from college - freshman. Me and my husband were just thrilled to know that he's gotten himself a girlfriend; he wants to settle down as an engineer. You wouldn't happen to know of any good places he might find a job, do you? I've noticed how handy you are at making things and fixing them."
Sunk, Imari's tone lowers; he can't believe that she's married - and with a kid in college to boot! How could he be so stupid? So blind. Hn. That's love for you. Or he should say a crush, he didn't exactly love her yet. Yeah, that will keep his heart from keeping him awake with tears tonight. Three years, alone. Wasted pining. What kind of life is this?
A flash of that couple from F.H. went through his mind. The cute cheerful mother, handsome father caring for his weeping son. Adorable little guy, but he sure had a funny reaction to him. Like he was seeing a ghost. Who was it he said he reminded him off? Arwin something or another. He wanted his: they-look-cute-together, romantic, happy ending. And now its been shot to hell, his heart pieces wasted on an older than her appearance, married woman. This was so embarrassing! Oh Hyne, good thing he never gave her the notes or any hints he likes her.
"Your son should move to Fisherman's, if he's interested in fixing things. They have the best guys there for that sort of job."
"Oh, wonderful!" She beamed at having never thought of the place. "I'll be sure to tell him. And by the way, don't be a stranger. I've seen you everyday getting your mail. We always seem to go out at the same time, but you've never said: "Hello". I'd always assumed that you were shy."
"Nope. I'm not shy at all." He looked out onto the dance floor at the elderly woman who's giving him a thumbs up. His head shook slowly causing her to comically slap a hand to her forehead.
"There's my husband, I've got to go. What's your name, by the way?"
"Imari Karver."
"Well, it's nice to meet you Imari. Say 'hi' sometime." Walking away Denise joins her husband for a drink out on the dance floor. Not knowing of the broken heart she took with her. But he'd managed to carry on. Returning to his date, he told Mrs. Keaton that Denise was married; the woman held him close to comfort his feelings.
"You've still got me, nephew." The elderly woman gave him a nudge with her bony elbow.
"Yeah, let's mingle. Shall we?"
"Let's shall."
It rained that night, after the party, Imari found himself sitting in the window of his home staring out at the rush of water along the glass. His head hurt, his heart hurt - but mostly his head, though, it wasn't because of Denise. There's something about this picture that seems familiar. The rain, as hard as it can be, coming down all around the home... but beyond the rain and the dew.. outside in it stands...
A loud screech from Pal alerted his attention. The bird had made a noise because of a boom of thunder followed by a bright flash of lightning that dispeled the serene wet sky into a dark forbodding place.
"Ahaha. You're afraid of a storm but you'll attack a monster head-on." Shaking his head he moved away from the window. "I'll never understand you." The fussy animal seemed to calm down when receiving a pat on the head. "Come on, let's get some sleep. I just want this night to be over."
...
At the Saber home. They're getting ready for bed but for some reason Mrs. Saber can't keep her mind from wandering back to the man that her husband was speaking to at the refreshments table. He looked so very familiar, like someone she had gone to school with at Galbadia in her younger years. What was his name? Oh! That's right! Irvine Kinneas! He couldn't be, though, Irvine Kinneas died four years ago. She'd heard about it over the news. It must just be some weird coincidence.
But, damn, it'd be a big coincidence.
June 4th 2014.
Imari, whistling as he waits, stares out at the glassy ocean before him. He's fishing. Pal is seated behind him on the other bench built into the boat, its sharp eyes are glaring out over the water as its planning on doing a little fishing of its own. Imari recovered completely from his long time crush, he could always love again, right?
"How are they catching fish?" He asks the bird when seeing an old man pull up a catch laughing and cheering for himself. "Maybe we're in the wrong spot."
A few screeches sound from the bird before it lifts up into the air then dives beneath the bobbing water, popping up with a fish in its beak to land back on the boat.
"Sweet. We'll eat good tonight with you here."
The bird chirped at him before digging into its catch.
"Oh, then don't share," He waved it off. "I'll just... I'll go buy some fish." Grabbing the oars, he rows the boat back to the dock.
Imari is on vacation. He figured he could use a nice fishing trip and relaxing stay in a hotel for a while to clear his mind. He was also kind of hoping to see that sweet little kid again. He'd scared him without meaning to. He felt he should clear things up. The kid had been carrying a stuffed clown with him; since his love interest blew up in his face, he wanted to give the wooden lion to someone who would like it more.
His brothers have the Chocobo, and he kept the wolf for himself. Besides, a lion is always the favored attraction at the circus. It was strange, the wooden lion. He felt so calm and serene when looking at the thing. The Sculptors were out of water stones, and he had to use a wind stone for the eyes of the lion instead; and the strange clear blue hue of the stone had a hidden gray color in back of it. He could almost swear he's seen those beautiful eyes before.
Climbing from the boat he looks at his gluttonous best friend with hands on hips and a cocked head. "Are you planning to stay there and eat? Or can I carry that to the hotel for you, your highness?"
Taking one last bite, the bird holds the dead fish between its talons then flies beside his owner back to the hotel.
In another part of town.
"You are aware I'm gonna kill you, Seifer." Threatens Squall taking a battle stance with a wooden sword as his weapon.
He, Seifer, and Zell are at the gym. The two gunbladers are about to do battle for the second time in a long time since Seifer took it upon himself to wake him up early that morning with a butcher knife at his throat. The scuffle was of thrown fist and pillows, while the madman sliced and slashed at the air attacking him. The scuffle lasted for fifteen minutes before Squall could finally bust the blond in his mouth, giving him a split lip, and possible loose tooth.
However the severe brutality, Squall wasn't completely angry about the challange, more of the fact that Seifer couldn't just wait. No, he had to attack him in his own home; only for the bastard to have to sit down to breakfast with him and Kait while they waited for Quistis to come over to babysit. Rivals. The only thing they're good for is letting off steam, because they allow you to go far with them just so they can show what they've got. And for Seifer, he'd better hope its a lot because Leonhart was fit to kill.
He was having a wonderful dream about himself and Irvine, only to have the malicious laugh of the ex-knight pull him from his sleep and have the the gleam of a knife in the rising sunlight from the window cast a nasty flare in his eyes.
"Let's keep this clean." Says Zell.
"I can't wait to show you my two sword techniques, Leonhart. Its even better with the real things, but wood will have to do for now."
Squall could imagine that Seifer had some wood; the male sometimes would have to hide an erection due to the adrenaline rush of nearly become a filet by Squall dozens of times in the past. Fighting can do that to you. It's never sexual, and never would be. Simply something that rivals understand.
"Rules?" Squall asked.
"None."
"Figures."
Turning his head as though he were watching a verbal tennis match, Zell rolled his eyes to their verbal and silent bickering. Hand raised like he's about to release drag racers he lowers it steadily saying. "Aaaand... fight!"
Seifer's strong arms whirled the two wooden swords through the air over his head like they were connected as a naginata, and without warning one of them shot out aiming for Squall. Just as he moved his mock blade to brush it out of the way the blond was on him like a shark smashing his fist into his face sending him staggering back a step before he caught his balance. Licking blood from the corner of his mouth he growls before launching from his kneel into a full assalt.
His sword swung downward then back up only to be dodged by a leaning back which then had to bend more as the sword sliced through the air lower by the waist. Straightening Seifer sliced his own blade through the air at his rival; who ducked and popped back up to stab him in the chest with the tip of his sword.
"Point, Squall!" Shouts Zell, who's watching from the seat of exersize equipment.
"Whose side are you on, Dinky?" Mutters Seifer; landing a few good whacks to Squall's shoulder. Recovering his other sword he really brings on the heavy.
"I'm just watching." Defends the shorter blond. Hearing a phone ring, he got up from his workout to grab it. "Hey, Squall, your phone's ringing."
Grunting as he fends off another attack, he asked. "Who is it?"
"I don't know. I've never seen the number before." Zell then informed. "Voice got it. They left one."
"Then its probably some idiot selling something. Just delete it."
"You sure?" He listened to the message.
"To whom this may concern, I think I may have..." The phone went dark.
"Crap, your battery died." Shrugging, he dropped the phone back into the bag. "Hey, you guys, Ma thinks we should have a beach party - she wants to make paella."
"Alright."
Seifer who's now getting his licks asked. "When is it? I have a mission one of these weeks."
"Tomorrow, but we have to get some seafood at Fisherman's market."
"Okay." The two say in snyc.
Zell could already taste his mother's cooking again. It's been a while. He's thinking about spending some much needed alone time with the woman some day soon. Between being an instructor at Garden and still taking missions, he's been busy. Besides, he doesn't wanna miss another day away from someone he cares about... after what happened to Irvine. Maybe he should visit him as well? He's got a lot of exciting new stories to tell the man - well, teen since he never grew up with them.
Sometimes he could swear, though, that he hears the cowboy laughing at his comments... like he might still be alive.
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Snow Drift