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The Sins of Two Fathers	By : wickedorin Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 687 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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- 2
- 3
"The Sins of Two Fathers" and the general overall
concept of "The Sins of Two Fathers" is completely copyright Orin Drake
1999-2005, as are the characters Kyrie and Rodger and some more random
people that don't matter as much. The characters Seifer Almasy, Squall
Leonhart, Quistis Trepe, Ellone (Leonhart?), Laguna Loire and Rinoa "The
Great Big Bitch" Heartily (biased? me?) are copyright Squaresoft, as are
the terms SeeD, gunblade, Trabia Garden, Griever, and probably a lot of
other stuff I forgot to mention. Hell, if you played the game, you
know. Enough said. Oh yeah, and there are plenty of spoilers
everywhere for everything. That about covers it.

        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.

The Sins of Two Fathers

Chapter 2

by Orin Drake
        "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." He suggested.

        She 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.
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The Sins of Two Fathers