Blind Sight
September 2003

 

The roar of cheering and applause echoed down the corridors of the coliseum, the ripple of noise easily reaching a lone figure that sat on the edge of a statue's pedestal.  The man was dressed in a black cloak with its hood raised to cover his eyes, the dark clothing merging well with the shadows of the hallway.  Leaning back against the statue of a nameless swordsman, he rubbed the underside of his left wrist in a nervous action.

"I don't want to be here.  Damn you all, I don't want to here," he muttered in the darkness.

In time, loud footsteps approached the man, the stride sounding strong and arrogant, most likely reflective of the person's character.  The cloaked figure never even glanced to the side when the approaching person entered that section of hallway.  Even without seeing the newcomer, the darkly dressed man knew that there should be a smirk on the blond fighter's face which would be cockier than his stride.  And being after the tournament, he figured the man should also be filth-ridden with gore, dirt, and sweat from the challenging matches of the final rounds.  Listening to each step carefully, the cloaked man waited until the other was in front of him before he spoke.

"You may die once you step beyond that doorway."

The warrior stopped at the quiet words.  "You aren't allowed in here."

There was no reply or movement at the terse tone.

"Heh.  Not a skittish guy are you.  Well, thanks for the advice, but a person can die anytime, anyplace.  Now, if you don't mind..."  Boot on floor sounded once again, and the fighter left the cloaked man behind without another word.

At the last faded noise of a footstep, the lone man sighed.  "There.  I warned him."

A woman's voice scolded him.  ::That was hardly a decent warning, lover::

"... ..."

::You are to protect him:: reminded a growled voice.

"But I hate that bastard."

The voices were silent after the venomous statement, obviously having no words that could change the man's mind.  Sitting there in the darkness while rubbing a thumb hard against the underside of his wrist, the cloaked figure waited for either the cries of death or the fighter's return.  Eyes staring at nothing, he wasn't certain which outcome would be best.


Seeing the light pour in from the open portal of the tunnel-like hallway, Seifer smirked with more amusement than typical.  Death indeed.  As if the recent champion of the southern realm would find fear in the weak warning that he may die once leaving the coliseum.  Running a hand through his short, spiky blond hair in the vague attempt to better his appearance, he readied himself for the onslaught of fans and sudden friends.  Of course most would only be after the prize earnings from the tournament, but he didn't care about that.  The rush of fame and glory was well worth the price, and it'd be safer to travel with less gold, anyhow.

Once the warrior stepped into the light of late afternoon, Seifer smiled his best as voices called out his name and two lovely women instantly attached themselves to his sides despite his current foul state.  The softness of their hands and the scent of lilac was appeasing to his senses, exhaustion quickly draining away from his battle worn body.  Already his mind was wandering to potential late night activities as he laughed at the unreserved attempt of flirting by one of the young women.

All of the sudden, there was the sensation of an icy breeze brushing along the back of his neck that made his hairs stand on end.  Normally Seifer would have pass it off as nothing, a simple chill from cooling muscles, but the words of the cloaked figure still rang in his ears.  Roughly he pushed the two women back into the small crowd, then dropped to the ground in a roll such that he'd rise facing the opposite direction.  Before he straightened fully, a large creature landed hard on the spot where Seifer had previously stood, the beast roaring angrily at the unexpected move.

Green eyes widened at the sight of the huge demon, its dark wings fluttering oddly with rage as it stared down at the man.  Everything about the creature was as black as night, including its scaled skin, too long claws, and a thin tongue that flicked out like a snake.  A large hand suddenly swiped down at Seifer, the blond easily dodging the sluggish, yet deadly attack.  Sneering, the man pulled Hyperion out from its sheath, the silver blade shining bright in the sun.  He barely noticed the demon's wince at the glare of white light from his sword, Seifer not caring to waste thought on anything but his attack.  The huge creature couldn't touch the sprinting man, Seifer easily moving in close and saving his sword for a single mortal blow.  He thrust the wide blade upwards, Hyperion piercing through the thin flesh under the monster's chin and further into its head.  With a final screeching call and in an attempt to escape the burning metal, the demon lurched backwards and forced Seifer to lose hold of his weapon.  Even so, the creature could only move two steps back before it dropped flat to the ground, twitching until dead.

After first eyeing the thin smoke appearing from the sword's point of entrance, Seifer gripped the handle of Hyperion and placed his foot firm on the thick throat before yanking his blade out.  Half expecting the beast to jump back to life, the warrior flinched at the sudden noise of a gathering crowd.  He briefly glanced over the awed faces before turning his attention to the entrance of the coliseum.

The bastard had known.

His sword quickly sheathed, Seifer sprinted inside the tunnel and cursed the realization that he never thought to get a good look at the man's face.  The person could have disappeared without a trace by now, but the blond continued to run down the corridor on the off chance that his mysterious 'friend' was still lurking in the dark hallways.  Rounding a bend, he was rewarded with the sight of the cloaked figure, the man sitting in the same place as before.

Slowing to a fast stride, Seifer approached the unmoving man, and with one smooth movement, grabbed him by the throat and rammed him against the near wall such that the covered head flung back against stone.  Except for a startled gasp at first being lifted, the man didn't make a sound at the rough handling.

"Was that some kind of threat before?  What the fuck do you have against me?"

"... ..."

Seifer squeezed harder around the narrow throat.  "Talk."

"... ..."

Frustrated, the blond pushed the man to the ground and placed a booted foot on an extended hand.  "Who the hell do you think you are to threaten me?"

The cloaked man didn't move from his partial lying position, not even in a vague attempt to free his hand.  If he hadn't heard the man speak before, Seifer would have been tempted to believe him a mute.  But knowing of the soft voice, he was determined to get some answers.  Leaning forward heedless of the extra pressure he was placing on the slim fingers, Seifer pushed back the hood of the dark cloak.  The revealed fair complexion of the youthful man highlighted by thick, dark brown hair was an unexpected appearance.

"Who are you?" his voice softer in awed curiosity.

"Doesn't matter," came the bitter reply.

Frowning, Seifer removed his foot from its position, thus allowing the young man to slowly pull the injured hand close to his chest.  The large blond kneeled next to the prone man, then taking the other's chin in hand to force eye contact.  His frown deepened at the sight of milky white pupils set in gorgeous gray eyes streaked with blue.  Using his other hand, Seifer held it up before the stoic face, the man first wincing at its approach and then knocking it aside.

"I might not be able to see, but you smell."

A snort of laughter escaped the blond, but he tightened his hold on the chin.  "What does a blind man want with me?"

Stormy eyes narrowed.  "I warned you.  That's all."

"Some warning.  Why even bother?"

He sneered.  "Because you are everything."

Seifer was taken aback by the absolute venom in the voice, never hearing such cold hate before.  He trailed fingers along the fair skin as he released his hold, and then leaned back to look the man over.  From a distance, the darkness of the cloak had easily hid old stains of the worn, cheap fabric.  And now spread out on the ground, the thin body was more apparent under the thick material.

With a sigh, Seifer stood up.  "How about I treat you to some dinner and you explain this all in some detail?"

"No.  That isn't my job."  He clutched his ears as if to block out sound.  "Shut up!"

"Well, you don't have to get so defensive about it."

Growling, the brunet pushed up from the ground and almost regained his footing.  Seifer grabbed a flailing arm before the young man could fall back to the stone floor.  The man went stiff at his touch, but the blond didn't notice, his attention focused on the arm in his hold.  On the underside of the left wrist was a branding mark - the image of a cross with strange lettering that had been burned into the fair skin long ago.

"Hmmm, so you're an evil one," he said with an amused tone, his thumb brushing along the damaged flesh.

"Let. Me. Go."  Seifer could hear the hint of desperation underlining the low voice.

"No.  You owe me answers and I'll get them one way or another."  Jerking the arm, Seifer pulled the man close and wrapped his arm around the tense shoulders to prevent unlikely escape.  "What's your name?"

"You have no reason to care."

"If I didn't care, I wouldn't ask.  Stop being so fucking difficult."

"... ..."

"Fine.  Have it your way, kitten."

His head snapped up, the icy glare not quite meeting green eyes.

"Until I get a name, that's what I'll be calling you.  Care to rethink your previous decision?"

Scowling, the man turned his attention in the approximate direction of the entrance and tried to move out of the strong hold.

"You're going to make tonight an utter joy, aren't you, kitten?" Seifer said dryly.

Receiving no reply as expected, the warrior turned them deeper into the tunnels of the coliseum so they could take a less public route out of the building and area.  He could care less what people thought of his companion, but he wasn't going to give the man an opportunity to disappear within the mix of numerous people.  While Seifer was mildly upset that his plans for the night were ruined, it had the potential to be just as interesting once he could figure out what would make the young man talk.


The brunet was beyond furious as he struggled against the bonds that held him to the corner of bed frame. Some time earlier, Seifer had dragged him to this inn and room, in the process rubbing his filth onto one of the only two pieces of clothing the smaller man owed.  The old cloak had been removed roughly from his body, leaving his chest bare and cold.  After a pause of examination, the warrior had thrown a shirt at him and ordered him to put it on.  Directly after, the brunet had been dragged to the front of the bed, ropes quickly binding his hands together and to the bed frame.  Seifer had called it a reward for the three near escape attempts made earlier on the way to the inn.  After mumbling something about a bath and food, the blond had left him.

"This is your fault," he hissed, pulling against his bonds one last time in frustration.

A melodic laugh echoed back.  ::He certainly is a determined one, this golden boy::

::A necessary quality for a true hero::

"Like hell it is."

A third voice joined the others, the tone older and wiser.  ::Calm yourself, child.  You must have a clear head to explain everything to him::

"Not my job."

The laughter was deep and slow.  ::If not you, then who would tell him of his destiny?::

"I want nothing to do with him."

::You know it is too late for that, child::

He bowed his head in part defeat.

::Protect him as best you can.  That is all we ask::

"You ask too much," he stated quietly.

Long after the voices stopped badgering him, the brunet was startled awake from a light doze by the sound of the unlocking door.  He straightened to a sitting position, but didn't bother turning in the direction of the opened doorway.  At the drifting smell of hot food, he bit his lower lip and willed his stomach to ignore the flavorful scent.

"I'm not even going to bother to ask if you're hungry."  There was the sound of a tray being placed on a table.  "I already ate downstairs, so we can completely focus on you for the moment."  The large man moved a chair next to the bed, sitting down with a sigh.  "Say 'ahn'."

Sensing something invading his space, the brunet flinched back.  "What?"

"If you think I'm releasing those bonds, you're insane.  I haven't forgotten that stunt of yours in the market.  I had to pay for all of that damn fruit you shoved me on."

He smirked vaguely in response.

"Go ahead and smile away, asshole.  Just remember, you're the one tied to my bed."

The amused look was quickly replaced by an icy glare.

"Aw, the kitten bares its fangs.  Cute.  Now, would you just eat something so we can move on to other forms of torment?"

Before the man could growl out some kind of retort, his body suddenly went limp and he slipped off the mattress edge.  The brunet closed his eyes, though he knew it wouldn't make any difference - the visions came without warning and without care of the situation.  Light burst through sightless eyes, giving him blurred imagery of the ever-changing future that always seemed to be full of pain or death.  As the vision played out, he struggled for air and clarity of mind until the abrupt end.

Eyelids opened slowly even though there was no difference in the darkness.  Then he realized someone was slapping his face gently.  It took a moment longer before he realized that it was the hated blond touching him.

"Are you all right?"

"No," came out the quiet groan.

"Shit, I thought you were dying right in front of me.  What the hell was that?"

"You can't stay here."

"I... Excuse me?"

"Someone will try to kill you tonight.  You can't stay."

A pause.  "Think you're some kind of seer or something?"

"Or you could stay.  I don't care if you're stabbed to death."

::You can't mean that.  Sweet lover, why must you be so difficult::

"I don't care," the brunet reiterated, words hissed out through clenched teeth.

He was grabbed suddenly, awkwardly helped back onto the mattress without his bonds undone.  "We're staying.  Let's see who wants me dead, hmmm?"

"... ..."

"For now, you should eat."

The dark-haired man shook his head tiredly.

Without warning, a large hand gripped his chin to force his mouth open and a piece of bread was quickly shoved inside.  "Good kittens follow orders."

Reluctantly, the brunet chewed on the bite of food.  "Only bread."

"You need something warm to eat."

"I couldn't handle it."  The visions always tore him apart inside, destroying the careful equilibriums of his body.  Though he was starving, the seer knew anything he ate would most likely end up on the floor, leaving him nauseated and hungry at the same time.  But bread was relatively safe, and if the warrior was willing to be forceful in his demands, the brunet could yield that far to the larger man.

There was a grunt of understanding before more bread was placed at his lips.  "You hate me.  Why?"

The dark-haired man chewed silently, not caring to explain his anger.  On a logical level, he knew he shouldn't focus his hate on the warrior who was equally trapped in the invisible web of fate.  But it was so much easier this way and much more satisfying to direct his resentment at something physical.

"My name is Seifer Almasy, by the way."  At the brunet's huffed laugh, the man continued to say, "But I suppose you should know that if you're truly a seer."

The young man shook his head, resisting to explain that it doesn't work in the way he believes.  No, there were easier methods to get the man's name, one being the crowds cheering his name at the last several tournaments.  Truly Seifer was a rising star on this continent, which meant that the idiot was drawing unwanted attention to himself.

"Come on, kitten.  Tell me your name and I'll give you some water."

There was a moment of silent debate before he surrendered to his thirst.  "Squall."

"Now that wasn't so painful, was it?"

His glare was cut short when the rim of a cup was placed at his lips.  He felt like a child being helped like this, and he could sense the larger man smiling at this entire situation.  At least Seifer was competent in giving the necessary aid, no water being spilled onto the man or bed.

Once all the bread had been finished in unexpected silence, the blond man declared it time for sleep so that he would be prepared for the attack he still didn't truly believe was coming that night.  Bound to the bed, Squall couldn't move away when the larger man laid down on the thin mattress, and the warrior was then asleep within an incredibly short time.  The brunet wasn't going to allow himself that same luxury, but the combination of soothing breaths and the exhaustion from both stress and the visions were too overwhelming to resist.

~ < > ~

His eyelids slid up heavily, and he reluctantly viewed the ruined world before him.  Skies were hazy with thin clouds as the permanent sunset made everything red and deep with shadows.  This time he stood near a crushed coliseum, large blocks of stone strewn about by some immense force.  People and animals laid dead on the ground, victims of a meaningless battle.

::You don't want this to happen::

Squall turned at the feminine voice, the one that mockingly called him lover.  Blue-gray eyes settled on a young girl, the skin of half her face torn away by either demon or a scavenging animal.  The odd half smile of exposed teeth ruined the child's attempt to be serious.  He used to wake up screaming from these dreams, and then would mourn over the potential loss of these unknown people.  Now he was just numb, almost bored by the gruesome and overdramatic scenery.

"Can't you get a bit more original here?"

::It's not about being original::

A man who owned the growled voice in this dream walked haltingly up to the girl, taking his place beside her.  Squall dully wondered why the torn leg didn't fall off as the corpse moved.

::You must explain everything to the golden one::

Cold flames blazed in Squall's eyes, his teeth clenching at the sound of the older man.  He didn't turn at the voice, knowing it would take on the warped image of his father.  Last time the deep green eyes had been plucked out by crows along with visible brain matter from a cracked skull.  The sight had almost made him cry.  Almost.

"In case you haven't realized, I don't know everything."

::You know more than us, lover::

"I don't," he said in a defeated tone.

::But you see while we cannot::

"Then, what's this!" he yelled while spinning with arms spread wide, forgetting that he didn't want to see the man behind him.  Anger drained away quickly at the image of his father, the man's torso torn by what looked like large claw marks, various blackened organs slipping through the deepest wounds.

::The most likely future if your hero fails::

The strength gone from his body, Squall slumped to his knees upon the blood red earth.  He couldn't cry anymore, the tears used up earlier in his young life.  And screaming meant nothing in this deadened world.  So he sat quietly as he waited to awaken into darkness.  Meanwhile, the voices in their stolen bodies looked down upon him without mercy.

~ < > ~

He woke up abruptly, and hearing the droning tone of his unwanted bed partner, assumed it was still late at night.  Given that, Squall figured something must have waken him.  Then he heard footsteps approaching their room, the steps too careful to be a natural stride.  Someone was trying to not make any noise, and obviously was succeeding at not waking the supposed warrior.  When there was a click of someone testing the doorknob, Squall decided to kick the larger man awake.  He had to give the blond some credit for not making a ruckus at the abrupt waking, instead tensing into immediate readiness.  The seer didn't need to say anything in warning, the door suddenly bursting open with the crash of breaking wood.


First awakening in the darkened room without apparent reason confused Seifer, thus the following loud intrusion through the locked door was almost welcomed.  A man hidden in the shadows of night rushed towards him, the blond rolling off the bed and onto the floor before the raised dagger could touch him.  From a crouched position, he kicked at the man's leg, unexpected strength making the attack useless.  Seifer was forced to retreat from a slashing blade, and then was bewildered once again when a thrown punch didn't seem to affect the man, let alone disarm him.

"Use your father's dagger, idiot!"

Seifer didn't have the time to be either surprised or offended as he dodged another attack, the passing gust of the blade easily felt along his bare chest.  Reaching back with his left hand, he grasped the handle of a small dagger that he always kept sheathed hidden at his lower back.  He slashed the blade in a wide arc before him, the intruder screaming at the wound across his stomach.  As the man stumbled backwards, Seifer took the chance to kick him completely off balance and onto the bed.  At the next moment, the blond was straddling over him and his dagger was buried to the hilt in the man's throat.

After a few calming breaths, Seifer stared at the man beneath him.  "The fuck... He should be dead."

"Isn't he?" came the almost bored voice.

"Hell if I know.  I killed him in one of the tournament matches.  It was two days ago, I think."

"... Are there markings on his body?"

Ripping the torn shirt open, green eyes narrowed at the sight of red lettering that had been sliced by his blade.  "I can't read it."

A heavy scoff.  "They're runes, not a true language."

Seifer looked up sharply at the man.  "How'd you know?"

"... ..."

"Don't you fucking close up on me now.  How did you know?"

When there was no reply, Seifer pulled the dagger out from the corpse before stepping back off the bed.  Circling around, he grabbed the shirt he had worn before lying down for sleep and slipped it on before getting his pack and Hyperion.  Equipped with the possessions that he cared most about, the blond grasped Squall's arm before slicing apart the rope bonds, and then forcefully yanked the blind man to his feet.

"Don't think you've been spared from explaining this to me.  I'd just rather not talk with a days old corpse in the room."

"We should leave the city."

He glared at the brunet.  "What do you know?"

A dark eyebrow rose in disbelief.  "You've been attacked twice in one day here, and you want to stay?"

"And you knew about both attacks beforehand."

Squall smirked.  "Maybe you should leave me behind.  Bad luck and all."

"You sound entirely to happy about that idea.  No, I'm not letting you out of my sight, kitten.  Deal with it."

With the room already paid for until the end of the week, they had no difficulties with the unplanned departure in the middle of the night.  Gripping tightly onto the borrowed shirt that the blind man wore, Seifer was anxious about his surroundings as he passed through the darkened city.  First attacked by a demon and then by a supposedly dead man... it simply wasn't normal in any sense of the word, and this potential seer was his only source for answers.

Before the blond could place his focus into making his captive talk, he led them deep into the surrounding forest and away from the main road that they would use during the light of day.  Not bothering to build a fire given the little amount of night left and the potential of someone searching for them, Seifer simply forced the blind man to sit on some mossy, relatively softer ground.  After dropping his pack to the side, he stood over the man and glared downward in a habit to use his height against others, not caring that the other wouldn't be intimidated by the effect.

"Explain everything."

Clouded blue-gray eyes crossed slightly as Squall looked at nothing.  "Everything is quite a lot to explain."

Growling an insult at the man, Seifer then spoke in a slow and threatening tone.  "How about we start with what role you have in all of this."

A pale hand raked through dark hair as the blind man closed his eyes tightly and shook his head, mumbling a quiet 'no' as his fingers clutched harder at his hair.  Before Seifer could question what the man was saying 'no' to exactly, Squall spoke in slightly clearer voice. 

"Not my responsibility.  I refuse..."

Seifer glared down at the man.  "What isn't your responsibility?"

Stormy eyes snapped open wide as if the man had forgotten the other presence with him.  "Nothing," he whispered.

Seeing something akin to suffering in those sightless eyes, Seifer knelt down in front of the man as he decided to change his tactic to something less forceful.  "Listen, I've dealt with a lot of weird shit today and I just want to know why this is happening all of the sudden.  Frankly, I can't be too certain whether you are here to help me or to lead these freaks my way."

"It's not sudden," Squall said, the voice rather weak.

"Sorry, but I think I would've noticed dead men attacking me before."

The blind man grinned an odd smile.  "Already forgot about your father?  And there have been others, but you're protected by your blades."

Green eyes narrowed.  "That is the second time you've mentioned my father.  What do you know of him?  And how did you know about the dagger?"

"I've 'seen' it."

"So you do claim to be a seer.  Why should I believe you?"

Squall shrugged, obviously not caring whether the fighter believed him or not.

"Then see the future.  Tell me what I'm about to do."

The blind man scowled at the order.  "It doesn't work that way."

"No, of course not, because then it would be proof.  But go ahead, try to explain to me how it does work."

There was a period of silence in which Seifer thought he wouldn't be getting a reply, but then the soft voice spoke.  "I have visions.  It's nothing I can call upon willingly."

"So, that fit of yours... you really were having a vision?"

The brunet nodded.

"All right, then why me?"  When there was no reply, the blond took the man's chin into his hand and forced something close to eye contact.  "Come on, kitten.  I know that these visions could certainly be better spent on kings, so why are you chasing after me?"

"... Because you are the 'Hero'."

Blinking in surprise, Seifer eyed the man for signs of sarcasm.  "Well, that's the last thing I'd expect out of your mouth."

Huffing, the man said, "I don't think you are a hero, but you are the 'Hero'."

"And the difference is...?"

"One involves your damned ego and the other involves destiny."

Mouth open without a sound, Seifer stared at the blind man until standing abruptly.  "Don't you dare give me that shit.  I don't have any fucking destiny aside from what I make for myself."  Looking into uncaring eyes, the blond continued.  "I could leave you behind right now and you'd never find me.  I don't need this destiny crap and I certainly don't want it."

Squall pressed hands against his ears while his eyes closed tightly.  "Stop it.  Shut up," he hissed.

"Fuck you if you don't--"

"I don't care what he decides!"

Confused, Seifer glared at the brunet.  "Who the hell do you think you're talking to?"

There was no reply, the blind man instead standing up with some effort before he removed the shirt from his too thin body, the article of clothing then held out in front of him.

A pale eyebrow raised, the blond asked the man, "And what's this about?"

"I can leave you just as easily as you can leave me.  Take back your shirt.  I don't want to be accused of stealing it."

"What, you're just going to wander the forest shirtless?"

The shirt was tossed forward, almost hitting the large man in the face, before the brunet turned sharply and walked away with hands held in front of him.  Clutching the shirt angrily, Seifer followed quickly behind, grabbing onto a thin shoulder before the smaller man could stumble upon a fallen log.

"Idiot, you shouldn't walk off like that."

The brunet knocked the hand off of him.  "I've come this far on my own."

Straightening, the fighter suddenly realized the truth of that statement.  "Hn, perhaps, but that doesn't mean you couldn't use some help.  Listen, sorry 'bout yelling at you.  It's been a long day, and well, you're freaking me out a little bit."  Sighing, he asked, "Can't I just help you reach the next town?  Where you can buy some clothes?"

The blind man scoffed, but otherwise held his tongue.

"Shit, of course, no money.  Hell, how did you get this far, anyway?"

"I don't need you," Squall said with a soft, but forceful tone.

"Yeah, yeah, I know.  But you've got me.  I'm heading to Hiels next.  What about you?"

Biting his lower lip, the man nodded.

It took a moment before clarity of the situation came to the blond.  "You're following me, aren't you?  In case you have something to warn me about or some crap like that."  He scratched his short blond strands with a large hand.  "I still don't get it.  Why me?  I mean, surely there are others that can better use your supposed sight.  I can pretty much handle myself without your vague warnings."

Squall shook his head.  "I only see your future."

"Foresight can work like that?  Focusing on one person?"

"Apparently," was the droll answer.

Though still skeptical, Seifer was already tired of that line of conversation.  "Well, since you seem fixated on me, we might as well travel together.  Though I'm telling you now, if any trouble comes our way, I'm not going to risk my neck for you.  Understood?"

With an odd smile, Squall said, "Do you really think I'd want to be saved?"

Looking over the too thin body and milky pupils, the blond responded, "Hn, but you're still alive for a reason.  I have a feeling that you're harder to kill than you'd let people believe."

Slim arms encircling his bare chest, the blind man bowed his head.  The sudden youthfulness of man became apparent to Seifer as he watched Squall carefully.

"So, are you going to be a good kitten and let me help you to Hiels?"

"... If you wish to keep an eye on me that badly."

Smirking, the blond wasn't surprised that Squall had caught onto that benefit of him keeping the blind man nearby.  The idea of a stalker didn't sit well with Seifer, and this way he could also better observe Squall to discover the truths behind the young man.  Though as a traveling companion, Seifer feared that the brunet would be severely lacking in that area.  With a loud sigh, he decided that there was no way around it at this point.

"Well, it's getting a bit lighter out already.  We might as well get walking."  Without warning, he grabbed an arm and pulled it out such that he could place the shirt in Squall's hand.  "And would you just put this on already?  I'm not poor enough that I'd hunt someone down for taking a damn shirt."

The blind man held the piece of clothing loosely before he reluctantly nodded and placed on the shirt too large for his body frame.

Grunting his approval, Seifer moved to retrieve his pack and then turned to face the seer.  "So... how exactly do we do this?"

 

{Continued}

 

Author's Whining -- And I finally manage to post the first chapter of this fic.  Wonders will never cease.  Anywho, I really haven't a clue how often I'll be able to update this fic since it's hard for me to write for some reason, but I promise to not let it go unfinished... it just will take me some time since this is also a rather long fic as planned out in my head.  As always, I beg for your patience.  Thankies.