Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Devil in the Dark

Walking down the hall, she wanted nothing more than to turn around and seek comfort in him, but she would not fall into old roles, old traps. She had, and he had, moved beyond that point. There used to be a comfort in the certainty, but both had quickly learned that certainty was only an illusion. So head held high, she never turned around. Then again, seeing that she was putting her pride above Zell’s comfort was no great console either.

It was obvious that her friend just wanted to rest, but instead of turning around and facing her damn demons, she was intruding on his privacy.

Her actions, while under the pretense of hospitable, were more self-serving than anything else. Maybe it was a pride she refused to yield, or maybe it was seeking that belonging she had once known. In a way, her whole relationship with Garden was a paradox – her desperate need to be a part of something she didn’t morally agree with. It was juvenile rationale and she damn well knew it. She didn’t need to be accepted by Garden, by SeeD, or anyone else, but she always wanted to be acknowledged by them, which was the contradiction onto itself.

And here she was, falling back into that childish state of mind.

She wouldn’t.

Stopping abruptly, she had finally come to terms that continuing forward would only be for selfish reasons. Rinoa was just about to let out a thankful sigh, grateful that she caught herself, but apparently, Zell had heard her – her quiet, stealthy abilities certainly weren’t on par with her former comrade’s.

“I would think you’re just checking on me, but I know better.”

He grinned in such a fashion that quickly made her recall his nickname of “Mr. Know-it-all.” Truthfully, it suited him much better than chicken-wuss, but it never garnered quite the reaction and, the entire group, knew the reaction was truly what the name was about.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t.” She smiled, trying to dismiss herself.

“Three years.”

Zell responded before she could leave with a small bit of dignity intact. His tone was soft and remorseful. From that alone, she could tell how much her actions had affected him. They were almost best friends back then, inseparable at times.

“You know, you didn’t just walk out on him, you walked out on everybody. You were one of us, you were like our family.”

She could have blamed Squall, blamed Garden, but truthfully, there was some blame that could never be shared. If she had wanted, she never had to lose her friends. In the end, it was her choice because keeping ties with them was too painful.

She took the simple way out – they were a constant reminder of impossibilities.

Rinoa wanted to move on, even if that meant denying such a vital part of her life. It was what prompted her to skip Selphie and Irvine’s rehearsal dinner. Even worse, she had seriously contemplated missing their wedding. As painful and humiliating as that experience had been, she was glad that she had wadded through her shortcomings. She would have never forgiven herself if she had missed that day. With some things once done, certain actions or lack thereof, can never be taken back or forgotten.

“I don’t know what to say.”

She searched for an explanation, anything, but to give him some lame excuse would betray their friendship. She thought more of him than that; he was family and she loved him as such.

Most importantly, any truth she would offer would divulge too much. She wouldn’t betray Squall’s trust again; she would already have to tell him later that Selphie and Quistis knew the truth and most likely, Irvine by proxy. Had she known the truth, that this had been an elaborate hoax, she would have never said anything, but how was she to know? They had all been victims of the lie, and there would unfortunately be many more causalities along this road.

Maybe those admissions in his apartment would explain some of her underlying guilt. She had promised Cid never to say anything, but she had. It seemed like her own conscience held more importance than her promise – she hated this reality. Did Squall’s death trump her own need for closure, or had her commitment to the promise died along with him? It was easy to look back in hindsight and see her weakness, that by telling the others, she broke a promise. Now she would have to face that fact too.

Once again, she said nothing to Zell on the subject…at least, for now. There were a lot of fences that needed to be repaired and she would make those mends…she would. She just needed to find a balance which was comfortable to her.

“I just wanted to check…see if you needed anything. Then I realized that you just probably wanted to sleep.”

“Uh-huh, yeah,” he answered with a tone indicating his doubt. It would have been easy for him to drop the subject in its entirety, but in his line of work, rarely was anything ever accomplished with neutrality.

“Rin, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, and that part really isn’t my business… But I think there is something you really should have the right to know.... When he thought he was going to die, his only thought was you. His last words were for you.”

Rinoa was taken aback by his response and wanted to question further, but she knew better. She wouldn’t put him under any more pressure; she was certain that he had faced his own private battles over of the last couple of weeks.

Almost as if reading her thoughts, he replied, “I won’t give details. Ask him if you want the specifics. Just know I was there and I know how final we both thought it was… I also know how hard he fought just to have this opportunity to be here, to see you again.”

She nodded silently, unable to vocalize a response. It was then that Zell closed the door, leaving her standing alone in a moment of ambiguity. Wiping away the tears that had fallen, she regained the composure to which she had held earlier. As she turned back towards the living room, towards him, she tried not to overanalyze Zell’s words. The more she contemplated them, the more she could guess the nature of Squall’s sentiments. Yet, just to know they had been said, that she was the one spoken to in his final breaths, was overwhelming.

If the situation had been reversed, she knew what her final words would be. The problem was that no matter what she felt in both her head and heart, she couldn’t find the strength to confess them to him now. Of course, that certainly didn’t mean she didn’t feel them, rather that she couldn’t admit to them, nor categorize them neatly in her mind.

Gathering herself, she walked out into the living room. He was standing near the boxes; the scene made her momentarily tense but she would push through it - as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He must have either heard her or sensed her presence, but either way, he turned around and seemed to distance himself physically from the boxes. A quick expression passed by his eyes and on his face, one she believed she had recognized as uncertainty or possibly doubt. However, given the years of distance, she could no longer rely on old tells.

For his part, he felt uncomfortable being caught looking at his life reflected in the constraints of cardboard. He didn’t want to admit his own mortality and weakness, especially not to her. It was instinctual to move away from the boxes rather than to openly discuss the meaning within them.

Again, neither seemed ready to take that step and all it represented.

What surprised him, and so much had over the last twenty-four hours, was her next action. Wordlessly, he watched as she drew nearer to him. There was only a brief moment of hesitation in her actions, but her overall demeanor remained firm. She walked up to him, locking eyes at one point, and once again placed her arms around his waist.

He was utterly confused by this action, just as he had been confused by many of her actions in the past. He silently placed a comforting hand on her back, unsure what had happened in that short of time to garner such a response. Not that he was complaining, not in the least, but this was far from the response Zell usually had on people.

In some ways, maybe her reasons were better left unsaid.

“Don’t say anything,” she instructed softly. “I just wanted… needed to do this.”

She remained that way until she regained her emotional footing and then she simply added a soft ‘thank you’ under her breath. Although he had no trouble hearing the whispered statement, he didn’t comment or even understand its true meaning for that matter. Again, maybe some mysteries were better remained unsolved.

Just as suddenly as she had reached out for him, she released her grasp. Her previous demeanor returned, the one marked by maturity and caution.

“Squall, I’m going to go upstairs and shower so we can get started on the mission. While I’m busy, feel free to grab something to eat from the kitchen. You have or make anything you like; you’re welcome to any food in there. Just…well…make yourself at home.”

And then she walked upstairs, leaving him once again by himself, yet this time, he didn’t feel alone.

Twenty-four hours ago, she would have never pictured herself in this spot. Well, physically this spot was in the middle of a public parking lot, but that is not where her thoughts rested. It was like waking from a bad dream, one where you could still feel the lingering emotions. It was as if a part of her accepted the truth as factual, but the other part struggled amid the denial. Just like a dream, she had been falling in her mind but now she had awakened with a rapid heartbeat and hurried breath.

In her hand, she held a set of keys. Right now, they were also acting as her security blanket, holding onto them tightly enough to leave an impression on her palm. In the back of her mind, she hoped that she wasn’t drawing much attention to herself, but her paranoia was most likely confined to her own thoughts. Every building, every sound, ever person that she passed, seemed to make her nervous, but this was Timber, not Deling City or Esthar - people pretty much kept to themselves. Honestly, nobody was even paying her the least bit attention - what few people were walking about.

Rinoa tried to act natural since it was simply a walk after all; the act in itself was nothing that held significance.

After she showered, dressed, and left her house without much ado, specifically in regards to Squall she headed the few blocks toward the Timber Maniacs’ building. Before leaving the house, she had hastily mentioned that he could use the shower in the master bedroom to freshen up. It was only stated only as an offhanded remark, allowing minimal conversation in return. She wanted to say so much more to him, but again, just like those first few moments after waking from the dream, her thoughts were not lucid and neither were her words. Her mind was still in a perpetual state of haziness, clouded with the words of Zell, Zone… and most especially, her former knight.

Then again, if she were basing her sanity on the last few weeks, there was no comparison. She would take this confusion over the pain. At least she saw light now, no longer the all-consuming darkness.

Rinoa continued to casually walk until she reached the van, which Squall had been correct about; it was easily identifiably amid the other vehicles. At first, she thought that Zell leaving it in a public lot seemed like a careless move. Now as she saw the other cars and a few delivery vehicles contained within the lot, it was an almost brilliant idea – hidden in plain sight.

Quickly, she turned the key to open the door and jumped up. Unfortunately, as the air wafted from the vehicle, it did have a slightly distinct odor, which was sadly nowhere reminiscent of a floral nature. She surmised that it could have been so much worse, as it was nothing that several spurts of air freshener and a few hanging deodorizers couldn’t handle.

Still, it was in relatively clean order, figuring that the duo had made it their makeshift home, not to mention Zell being the last lone inhabitant. That fact alone explained the half-opened bag of potato chips on the dashboard, the empty bag of pretzels on the passenger’s seat, and the…well, there was a small list that she could name, but it was irrelevant. Still, she doubted Squall would have left it in such a disorderly state without a huge protest.

Glancing in the back, she couldn’t hide her surprise. Even though it was rather compact in size, it appeared to be suited head-to-toe or rather door-to-door in technical advances. There were so many electrical components and monitors that she didn’t even venture to guess their usage.

The idea of two grown men eating, sleeping, and generally living in here was rather disconcerting – especially given that one of those men was Squall. If it had been someone like her and Selphie, it would have been plausible. Though, if that had been the case, by now there would be pictures of friends and stickers of Chocobos and Mogs plastered for a more home-like atmosphere by now. Cid would have been absolutely thrilled with Selphie’s redecoration process; Rinoa could only chuckle at the mental image.

After adjusting the seat, she started the van and then finally drove it out of the parking lot. Before leaving the house, Rinoa had grabbed her garage remote. Luckily, she had a two car garage, which, until this point, the second space had been a rather wasted investment. She guessed that the van would barely fit lengthwise but it would keep it off the streets at least, plus all Garden’s mobile resources would only be a few steps away. Honestly, she believed that living in here would be difficult, though she doubted the ‘van from hell’ quite lived up to the name it was unluckily knighted. It was more likely that the ‘hell’ was in reference to stress and the combination of its inhabitants.

On her short journey back, she found that there was a newfound excitement in her mood. Of course, she loved her job, but there was a nostalgic feeling about working with the guys. This mission was quite a bit different from Ultimecia. Honestly, saving a few politicians was unlike saving the world. Five years ago, the group’s strength lied in their physical abilities more so than their mental ones, but now the opposite held true. She believed that the maturity and experience gained throughout the years would be vital, but most importantly, they would be doing this together.

Maybe she was finally finding her way through the haze. There may be more ups and downs, but the fog was starting to lift. She had been so lost last night even before her former knight’s arrival; the whole evening was a whirlwind of uncharted discoveries. Edea had said that the sudden severing of connection between sorceress and knight could possibly drive her mad, but what about a sudden reconnection? Could that too cause instability? Could her mood swings and emotional lapses be rooted in such? Still, for the first time in quite a while, she discovered an optimism that had not been felt in quite some time.

It was as if their future was once again left unwritten, that there were no scripts to follow but only endless possibilities.

After Rinoa left to shower, Squall took that opportunity to grab a bite of food. Searching through cabinets, he found a frying pan and then grabbed a few eggs from the refrigerator. It was great to be eating something other than pre-packaged meal rations or sticking his hand in a bag of Zell’s annoying chips. Nobody could chomp as loud as his comrade, although maybe it was merely magnified by the silence that was usually found between them. It was annoying as hell. The commander made a mental note to ban Zell from any and all foods that had the either of the words crunchy or crispy printed on the outside.

Still, it was a welcome change to be in kitchen semi-stocked with food. She didn’t have an overabundance, but it was definitely a great deal more than his few scattered items. Lauren often complained about his lack of sustenance. He angered at that thought - not at Lauren, it wasn’t her fault, but at himself for letting his ‘relationship’ even get to that point. It was easy to look back at his mistakes now, but at time, it seemed almost like a dependence.

He tried to shake the thought from his head; here he was standing in Rinoa’s kitchen and he was still fixated on the past. Then again, he didn’t exactly want to focus on the fact that, by all accounts, Rinoa had a date tonight, as that notion was no more comforting. Hell, in a perfect world, he would have somehow set up Lauren and Zone so he and Rinoa could just go on with their own damned lives.

Again, he tried to push the thought of Zone out of his mind. Maybe he should just focus on the annoying fact that she only had multigrain rye bread rather than his preferred white, but somehow her choice of breads was only a minor inconvenience his life… unlike the fact that Zone seemed to be intent on offering her muffins, coffee, and ill-timed dates.

Maybe he had seen only the worst in humanity, but he couldn’t help but feel uneasy about the whole situation. He had tried his best to leave some issues behind, only thinking about the future, about the mission, but this Zone thing had been something in the back of his mind since their first run-in aboard the Timber Owl’s base. Sitting at the table, he ate the eggs and then started to pick at his toast; he was still hungry but had now lost his appetite. He didn’t have much time to contemplate this much further as he heard her walking down the stairs.

Turning, he wanted to smile as she came into view, but decided against it. It just felt so natural to be there, to see her emerge from the stairway as if they had been together a lifetime. Her hair was once again pulled into a ponytail, something he remembered that she often did when she was in a hurry, a habit that appeared not to have changed. Even in a green t-shirt and jeans, she seemed to carry that air of grace, the one he remembered from their first dance. He didn’t say anything as she walked across the room to a desk, grabbing something from a drawer. She then made her way to an end table, picking up the van keys she had set there earlier.

“I’m heading out.” Her wording was short; she seemed to be avoiding any trace of emotion. “Take a shower in the master bedroom if you want, everything is already in there.”

He nodded, not knowing how to respond.

“I’ll be ready to start when I get back.”

Squall almost asked, “Start what?” but then realized that she meant working on the case. Between this attitude and her earlier embrace, he was utterly confused, yet, he couldn’t blame her. Nobody should have to go through the emotional rollercoaster she had been on in the last few weeks.

The commander had also caught what she had told Zone earlier, about running in the street and looking up at the rain. That was part of the reason Rinoa gave her friend about changing her mind about going into work today. Squall knew that she was telling the truth, something had happened before his arrival. He had also seen the fresh scrape on the back of her heel, although she never mentioned it. There was more to this than she was letting on and he would not push her, rather simply try to understand her reactions.

He had worn masks long enough in life, he knew the signs.

He also knew of the times where she let the walls slip, the times when he could see the real her behind the mask. That was Rinoa. That was the person who accepted his hand earlier, the one who had later reached out to him. She was dealing with the emotional conflict in her own way, he accepted that. He had lived that.

As soon as she walked out the front door, he immediately headed up the stairs. There was an enigmatic need to be out of the shower by the time she returned. He couldn’t explain his reasoning or need, but it just felt as if that time with her would be important to their future. They would be working together; he wanted to use that chance to move forward in a positive light.

In the following minutes, he took a record-setting shower in his book, but even though in a hurry, he still took a moment to dry his hair. Again, wet hair annoyed him for some obscure reason. Heading down stairs he felt himself actually looking forward to working on this mission. Ironically, it was a mission that he had been opposed to from the start, strange how his fate had worked out in this instance. But fate still owed him a few…

Once downstairs, he moved her coffee and the muffin bag to the table in her dining area. This way, everything would be ready when she returned. Knowing that she had hadn’t had time to eat this morning, she would most likely be hungry. Even if he despised everything that stupid muffin represented, he knew that she would love it. Plus, it had to be better than that rye toast sitting idly on the table.

As eating proved difficult, he decided to be prepared from a work standpoint. Although most of his supplies were currently in the van, he felt that it wouldn’t hurt to have a few necessities handy. Not to mention that he wanted to scribble down a few random thoughts that had been bouncing around in his head. All right, maybe his idea of making notes was to appear to be more in command than he was…he just wanted her to see a different side to his abilities, as he was more than a mercenary with a gunblade. She knew his fighting capabilities, but she had never truly seen his more logical side – their paths had never crossed in that aspect.

He looked around to her desk, the one that she had retrieved the garage door opener from. It was most likely the place where he would find a notebook and pen besides the den, and he damned well knew that he wasn’t going to wake up Zell for that.

In a quick search, he found a pad of paper and a pencil, although the pencil’s tip seemed to be broken off. He looked around for a sharpener, figuring it would most likely be in a drawer. He opened the top one, picking up a calculator and scooting a few pieces of paper out of the way.

His search seemed to be vain but right before he closed the door, he stopped and wondered if one could be in the back, as the antique desk drawer didn’t seem to open completely. He had no idea what possessed him to search further back; he should have known that fate would never let him go that easily. Reaching his hand toward the back, he attempted to feel around for a sharpener and-

…He abruptly stopped.

It was familiar and frightening, it was an answer to a question that he hadn’t dared to ask, and most importantly, it was knowledge that could never be undone. Maybe its discovery was fate’s cruel sense of humor, meant to be found by him, no matter the way. His fingers traced over the fabric that his senses recognized easily. He really didn’t want to confirm his findings, but in the same aspect, he needed to be certain - there would be no more possibility of denial in his mind then.

His fingers clutched the velvet container. Holding his breath, in one fluid motion, he pulled it from the drawer only to see that ever-familiar box. He didn’t have to look any further; he didn’t need to see the ring. He knew. Yet, that morbid part of him wanted to somehow curse himself even more. Before his brain could comprehend the motion, his fingers snapped open the box.

Rinoa had the engagement ring.

She knew another of his failures.

In every way, it was meant to be hers; only its delivery and date were significantly askew.

The grinding sound of the garage door opening made his body tense; she had returned from getting the van. This couldn’t happen. Not now. Rinoa couldn’t know that he knew – when the hell did this all get so damn complicated?