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FFVIII: Things Done For Love
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Seifer/Squall
Warnings: Angst, deathfic
Rating: PG
Summary: It was a depressing funeral. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fated_children.
It was a pretty depressing funeral on a pretty depressing day. It was raining. There weren't many people there. There was a woman with silver hair, all dressed in black for mourning, with an eyepatch over one eye. There was a big guy with her who kept his arm around her and looked more stupid than he really was. There were a few people who didn't quite dare to go up and spit on the grave, but that's what they were there for.
And there was the young SeeD commander, dressed in black leather and a white t-shirt like always, his eyes narrowed and blank. If you didn't know who he was, you'd've looked right past him. But everyone knew him then, right down to the crossed belts and the scar across his face.
He spoke to the woman dressed in black briefly and exchanged nods with Raijin. He agreed to pick something up that the man in the grave had left for him and then he left, with barely a glance at Seifer Almasy's grave.
Most people supposed that he was just there out of a sense of a duty to a former almost-SeeD, to a former rival.
----
"WANTED YOU TO HAVE THIS."
Fujin's words were always to the point and Squall nodded slightly, appreciating that even as he hated the way she already spoke of Seifer in the past tense, as he took the small bag she handed to him. "Is there anything else? You're welcome to come back to Garden, you know."
Raijin smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. "We couldn't. Wouldn't be the same without Seifer, y'know?"
"I understand."
And that was all.
----
Quistis watched him for a moment, then crossed the cafeteria to sit next to him, putting her coffee down with a little decisive click. "Are you okay, Squall?"
"No."
It was unusual for him to admit it, even when he was like this, but she had to admit that he looked rough. There were dark circles under his eyes that she hadn't seen since the few panicky days when Laguna had been kidnapped and SeeD had been hired to rescue him. And maybe his eyes were a little red, but she wouldn't like to have sworn to that.
"What's wrong?"
"A year ago yesterday, Seifer died."
Quistis frowned. "I didn't think you were all that close to him... he was just your rival."
Squall snorted softly. But he didn't bother trying to explain to her that that was why. They'd been rivals. They'd known each other better than anyone else ever could or would, body and blade and battle strategy. "He left something for me. Fujin and Raijin told me about it at the funeral and I went to them a week later to pick it up..."
"What was it?"
"A bag of letters. Letters he'd written and never sent." Squall's eyes went far away. "I didn't read them then."
"But you have now?"
"Yeah."
"What do they say?"
Squall shook his head slightly and stood up, leaving his coffee. "Quisty," he said, and the nickname startled her, because that was a Seifer thing to say, way back when, "Quisty, he was in love with me. That's why he went with the Sorceress. He wanted me to see him... he wanted me to save him. And I..."
He left the sentence hanging in the air and left.
----
Squally-boy,
I know what's going to happen. It's okay. Don't blame yourself or any of that. I probably deserve it. I did everything for stupid, selfish reasons -- but you should know that by now. Sorry I'm not around to fuck you up and give you the fight of your life over and over again. It'd've been fun.
If I survive this, I'm coming back to Garden and maybe I'll tell you.
But I don't think I will. Look after yourself. If I see you in the afterlife before you're at least fifty, I'm going to kick your ass from there to the end of time. You got that?
Love you, baby. Even if you hate my guts.
Yours sincerely,
Seifer Almasy.
----
It's a pretty depressing day, like the day of the funeral. Squall stands by the grave, his gloved hand on the top of the gravestone. He crouches down to look at it after a moment. He traces the letters and thinks it's ironic. 'Seifer Almasy, sorely missed'. The only people who miss him are Fujin, Raijin and Squall himself, and yet the words are true.
Squall misses his ex-rival like a severed body part. Sometimes he feels the phantom itch, too, the need to fight and the burn of that need.
"I do hate your guts, Almasy," he says softly, and he leans his forehead against the cold stone. He doesn't cry, because he's not that kind of person, but if he was Rinoa he'd be weeping and wailing and throwing a fit right there at all the unfairness.
The cold wind makes him shiver.
"I hate your guts because I loved you too. It wasn't like dying was your only chance."
Squall isn't sure why he's speaking to the grave. Maybe it's because Seifer so firmly believed in an afterlife. Maybe because Squall himself hopes Seifer will be lingering there, as a ghost or spirit or whatever.
Maybe just because he's sick of keeping it all to himself.
----
"UNEXPECTED."
Squall finds a smile for Fujin and offers her the bag back. "He said he couldn't ever explain to you why he did what he did. I've photocopied all his letters for myself. Don't worry about reading them -- I don't mind, and I don't think he would."
"What are you talking about?"
Squall looks up at Raijin and sighs softly. "He was in love with me. Those letters -- he wrote them to me almost every day since he was fifteen. The only gap is when he was under the Sorceress' control. He wanted to tell you and since he's dead, I'm trying to do what he couldn't."
"LOVE?"
"Yeah. Out of love."
Squall shrugs and looks thin and tired. Fujin invites him in for coffee and he goes in, and has coffee with Seifer's best friends, and wonders about how things could have been.
Pairing: Seifer/Squall
Warnings: Angst, deathfic
Rating: PG
Summary: It was a depressing funeral. For
fated_children.It was a pretty depressing funeral on a pretty depressing day. It was raining. There weren't many people there. There was a woman with silver hair, all dressed in black for mourning, with an eyepatch over one eye. There was a big guy with her who kept his arm around her and looked more stupid than he really was. There were a few people who didn't quite dare to go up and spit on the grave, but that's what they were there for.
And there was the young SeeD commander, dressed in black leather and a white t-shirt like always, his eyes narrowed and blank. If you didn't know who he was, you'd've looked right past him. But everyone knew him then, right down to the crossed belts and the scar across his face.
He spoke to the woman dressed in black briefly and exchanged nods with Raijin. He agreed to pick something up that the man in the grave had left for him and then he left, with barely a glance at Seifer Almasy's grave.
Most people supposed that he was just there out of a sense of a duty to a former almost-SeeD, to a former rival.
"WANTED YOU TO HAVE THIS."
Fujin's words were always to the point and Squall nodded slightly, appreciating that even as he hated the way she already spoke of Seifer in the past tense, as he took the small bag she handed to him. "Is there anything else? You're welcome to come back to Garden, you know."
Raijin smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. "We couldn't. Wouldn't be the same without Seifer, y'know?"
"I understand."
And that was all.
Quistis watched him for a moment, then crossed the cafeteria to sit next to him, putting her coffee down with a little decisive click. "Are you okay, Squall?"
"No."
It was unusual for him to admit it, even when he was like this, but she had to admit that he looked rough. There were dark circles under his eyes that she hadn't seen since the few panicky days when Laguna had been kidnapped and SeeD had been hired to rescue him. And maybe his eyes were a little red, but she wouldn't like to have sworn to that.
"What's wrong?"
"A year ago yesterday, Seifer died."
Quistis frowned. "I didn't think you were all that close to him... he was just your rival."
Squall snorted softly. But he didn't bother trying to explain to her that that was why. They'd been rivals. They'd known each other better than anyone else ever could or would, body and blade and battle strategy. "He left something for me. Fujin and Raijin told me about it at the funeral and I went to them a week later to pick it up..."
"What was it?"
"A bag of letters. Letters he'd written and never sent." Squall's eyes went far away. "I didn't read them then."
"But you have now?"
"Yeah."
"What do they say?"
Squall shook his head slightly and stood up, leaving his coffee. "Quisty," he said, and the nickname startled her, because that was a Seifer thing to say, way back when, "Quisty, he was in love with me. That's why he went with the Sorceress. He wanted me to see him... he wanted me to save him. And I..."
He left the sentence hanging in the air and left.
Squally-boy,
I know what's going to happen. It's okay. Don't blame yourself or any of that. I probably deserve it. I did everything for stupid, selfish reasons -- but you should know that by now. Sorry I'm not around to fuck you up and give you the fight of your life over and over again. It'd've been fun.
If I survive this, I'm coming back to Garden and maybe I'll tell you.
But I don't think I will. Look after yourself. If I see you in the afterlife before you're at least fifty, I'm going to kick your ass from there to the end of time. You got that?
Love you, baby. Even if you hate my guts.
Yours sincerely,
Seifer Almasy.
It's a pretty depressing day, like the day of the funeral. Squall stands by the grave, his gloved hand on the top of the gravestone. He crouches down to look at it after a moment. He traces the letters and thinks it's ironic. 'Seifer Almasy, sorely missed'. The only people who miss him are Fujin, Raijin and Squall himself, and yet the words are true.
Squall misses his ex-rival like a severed body part. Sometimes he feels the phantom itch, too, the need to fight and the burn of that need.
"I do hate your guts, Almasy," he says softly, and he leans his forehead against the cold stone. He doesn't cry, because he's not that kind of person, but if he was Rinoa he'd be weeping and wailing and throwing a fit right there at all the unfairness.
The cold wind makes him shiver.
"I hate your guts because I loved you too. It wasn't like dying was your only chance."
Squall isn't sure why he's speaking to the grave. Maybe it's because Seifer so firmly believed in an afterlife. Maybe because Squall himself hopes Seifer will be lingering there, as a ghost or spirit or whatever.
Maybe just because he's sick of keeping it all to himself.
"UNEXPECTED."
Squall finds a smile for Fujin and offers her the bag back. "He said he couldn't ever explain to you why he did what he did. I've photocopied all his letters for myself. Don't worry about reading them -- I don't mind, and I don't think he would."
"What are you talking about?"
Squall looks up at Raijin and sighs softly. "He was in love with me. Those letters -- he wrote them to me almost every day since he was fifteen. The only gap is when he was under the Sorceress' control. He wanted to tell you and since he's dead, I'm trying to do what he couldn't."
"LOVE?"
"Yeah. Out of love."
Squall shrugs and looks thin and tired. Fujin invites him in for coffee and he goes in, and has coffee with Seifer's best friends, and wonders about how things could have been.
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