![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
FFVIII: Theory
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Quistis tries to use Seifer and Squall's rivalry. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
15_minute_fic; ended up writing for more like thirteen minutes.
It wasn't just the gunblades. It was everything, everything they ever did, whether it be tests or fitness training or the compulsory dance classes. Squall showed it less than Seifer did: he'd try to come out on top, but you couldn't see him trying. Seifer, you knew he was trying, because when he was in classes with Squall his scores would skyrocket, and if the two of them went into the training center at the same time and weren't fighting each other, the monster population would take a serious hit -- and would take a long time to recover.
Quistis knew about it. It was the talk of Garden, after all, that fierce and unrelenting rivalry between them. She'd watched them fight more than once, teaching one or both of them something or other. Every instructor got involved with them, because no one teacher could take them one on one.
She oversaw some of their fights. Even when Seifer didn't fight dirty and literally introduce a fire spell, there was something about their fighting that was bright-hot, fury unleashed like a match dropped in a puddle of petrol. Squall's jaw was clenched tight, his hands tight around his gunblade's gripped, and he fought like a man inspired, his eyes alive with emotion his mouth never betrayed. He was beautiful like that -- and Seifer no less so. Oh, Seifer could've been so much.
He was a genius with a gunblade, after all. His movements in battle were never wasted, and he was fast -- his gunblade light to allow that speed of movement. It was like real fighting, to watch them, though at that point it was like a pact between them -- draw no blood. It was real in a way that the carefully choreographed fights of less skilled weapon users wasn't. There was something raw about it, something that spoke to some secret part of everyone who watched and caught them up in the excitement of it.
He had to be a genius with a gunblade, of course, Quistis knew that -- to keep up with his rival. But -- all the same -- there was a beauty about watching him fight that transcended the fact that for him, it was a game.
So that's the theory Quistis worked with when she agreed to take Seifer into her class -- because no one else would have him, too, and because she had something to prove. Squall, of course, was in her class already, quiet and reserved and a model student. She hoped that somehow Seifer would spark him into greater motivation, greater emotion, but really she was hoping that Seifer would fight to be as good as Squall.
She thought that, maybe, Seifer didn't pass his SeeD exam because he was waiting for Squall. Or, at least, waiting for a challenge, something to rise to. As it was, he could've easily passed, if he'd obeyed orders and maybe actually worn his uniform instead of his civvies -- a thing which lost him ten marks right from the get go every time.
She thought that Seifer wouldn't be able to stand not passing when Squall Leonhart did.
She was right, to an extent. He worked, enough to keep on top of things, and he and Squall fought as fiercely as ever, and he seemed to pay attention to his studies more. But something -- some fire, some spark -- seemed to be lost between them. She could've hated Squall for his coldness in blocking Seifer out and denying him the challenge he needed, as much as for ignoring her. So much for her theory.
She wasn't surprised though, when Squall passed and Seifer didn't, that he just had to break out.
She wasn't surprised to stand at Squall's side and fight against Seifer, every step of the way.
She wasn't surprised that, at the end, he scorned all the hands offered in friendship. She wasn't surprised that his anger had made him easily led, a puppet on a string. And she could only mourn, now, that her theory had been right after all, that he'd do anything, anything, to keep up with Squall. It seemed monumentally unfair that he'd become such a villain to offset such a hero.
He'd always had so much potential.
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Quistis tries to use Seifer and Squall's rivalry. For
15_minute_fic; ended up writing for more like thirteen minutes.It wasn't just the gunblades. It was everything, everything they ever did, whether it be tests or fitness training or the compulsory dance classes. Squall showed it less than Seifer did: he'd try to come out on top, but you couldn't see him trying. Seifer, you knew he was trying, because when he was in classes with Squall his scores would skyrocket, and if the two of them went into the training center at the same time and weren't fighting each other, the monster population would take a serious hit -- and would take a long time to recover.
Quistis knew about it. It was the talk of Garden, after all, that fierce and unrelenting rivalry between them. She'd watched them fight more than once, teaching one or both of them something or other. Every instructor got involved with them, because no one teacher could take them one on one.
She oversaw some of their fights. Even when Seifer didn't fight dirty and literally introduce a fire spell, there was something about their fighting that was bright-hot, fury unleashed like a match dropped in a puddle of petrol. Squall's jaw was clenched tight, his hands tight around his gunblade's gripped, and he fought like a man inspired, his eyes alive with emotion his mouth never betrayed. He was beautiful like that -- and Seifer no less so. Oh, Seifer could've been so much.
He was a genius with a gunblade, after all. His movements in battle were never wasted, and he was fast -- his gunblade light to allow that speed of movement. It was like real fighting, to watch them, though at that point it was like a pact between them -- draw no blood. It was real in a way that the carefully choreographed fights of less skilled weapon users wasn't. There was something raw about it, something that spoke to some secret part of everyone who watched and caught them up in the excitement of it.
He had to be a genius with a gunblade, of course, Quistis knew that -- to keep up with his rival. But -- all the same -- there was a beauty about watching him fight that transcended the fact that for him, it was a game.
So that's the theory Quistis worked with when she agreed to take Seifer into her class -- because no one else would have him, too, and because she had something to prove. Squall, of course, was in her class already, quiet and reserved and a model student. She hoped that somehow Seifer would spark him into greater motivation, greater emotion, but really she was hoping that Seifer would fight to be as good as Squall.
She thought that, maybe, Seifer didn't pass his SeeD exam because he was waiting for Squall. Or, at least, waiting for a challenge, something to rise to. As it was, he could've easily passed, if he'd obeyed orders and maybe actually worn his uniform instead of his civvies -- a thing which lost him ten marks right from the get go every time.
She thought that Seifer wouldn't be able to stand not passing when Squall Leonhart did.
She was right, to an extent. He worked, enough to keep on top of things, and he and Squall fought as fiercely as ever, and he seemed to pay attention to his studies more. But something -- some fire, some spark -- seemed to be lost between them. She could've hated Squall for his coldness in blocking Seifer out and denying him the challenge he needed, as much as for ignoring her. So much for her theory.
She wasn't surprised though, when Squall passed and Seifer didn't, that he just had to break out.
She wasn't surprised to stand at Squall's side and fight against Seifer, every step of the way.
She wasn't surprised that, at the end, he scorned all the hands offered in friendship. She wasn't surprised that his anger had made him easily led, a puppet on a string. And she could only mourn, now, that her theory had been right after all, that he'd do anything, anything, to keep up with Squall. It seemed monumentally unfair that he'd become such a villain to offset such a hero.
He'd always had so much potential.