This was inspired by a true story I once read on N Guns

Irvine's POV

This has been a rather interesting year for me and I'm sure others will attest to that. This year I moved into a huge 3 bedroom apartment with my 3 best friends: Squall, Zell, and Seifer. Squall and Seifer share a room (probably a bed too), and Zell and I each have our own rooms.

We are all very different individuals:

Me? I am a transfer cadet from Galbadia-G, making me the top sniper at Balamb-G. Then there's Seifer. Seifer is an arrogant prick who is also a neat freak. Leaving a mess around him is like poking a badger with a spoon. Don't mess with him. Ah, there's Zell. Zell's whole goal in life is to get laid, but we can all tell he's looking in all the wrong places. Me, being gay and having the most accurate gaydar, can tell the boy is a flaming fool if he'd quit trying to get with women. What straight man in his right mind spends two hours in the bathroom every morning getting ready? Plus he has wondering eyes; he never stares at the nice library girl, but he would check out Seifer's friend Raijin, practically drooling on himself in the process. Just our little homo-horndog.

And then...there's Squall. Squall is definitely the strangest one of all of us; he is a military genius which compliments him since he's the commander of Balamb-G. The man has had a hard life: his mom died giving birth to him, he lived in the orphanage with me and the other roommates, the only family he has is his adoptive sister, Ellone, from whom he was split from in the orphanage which caused him to put a front of being hard, but inside he's dealing with everything. After the Ultimecia Affair, he became commander so all he does is work for 12 hours straight in his room (to avoid people), taking a bathroom break, a food break, or partaking in his strangest quirk.

The apartment we live in is located near the train tracks of Esthar; Balamb-G had been there since the War. Squall quickly learned the freight train's time schedule; it passed be the apartment several times daily. Everyday at 9am, 12pm, and 4pm, Squall would fling open the window in his room as the train passed, and from the chair at his desk, barely looking up from the tedious paperwork, grabs his gunblade and blast off a shot at it each time it roared by. Upon hearing the satisfying "ping" of metal hitting metal, he would drop the gunblade and return to the paperwork.

One day I was lighting the grill by pouring Zell's hair gel on the coals (anything to keep him from plastering his hair in some horrifying chicken-spike hairstyle) when I saw our new neighbor, a gentlemen who looked to be in his late 20s. I sauntered over and introduced myself, wanting to put him at ease about the "youths" next door.

"Hi, I'm Irvine Kinneas". I reach my hand out to shake. His hand grabbed mine, shaking it.

"Vincent Valentine, new handgun specialist and teacher here on Balamb Garden". Vincent huh? He's amazingly beautiful.

I've never thought of a man being beautiful, but he was ethereal in his looks. He has the most beautiful, raven black hair that extends to his waist; he usually wears a band around his head but not the day that I met him. It flowed in the wind and his eyes pierced my eyes. His eyes are the most wonderful red which is kind of alarming at first, but they're beautiful. His skin is almost translucent from being so milky-looking, but not pale from lack of sun. He was wearing a black long sleeved-turtleneck shirt with black slacks and black shoes; what struck me as interesting he wore a cloak that looked like it had seen better days as it was shredded near the bottom at his ankles. The opening was wide and the collar was high, hiding half of his face. I could see as the wind blew that he had two guns holstered on a shoulder belt.

"Ah, a fellow firearm lover. I actually teach a shotgun class and a sniper technique class here."

"You're faculty? How old are you? You must not be more than 17 years-old."

"18 actually, but since my group of friends, of whom I live with next door, and I took out Ultimecia last year, we've all been teaching or going on missions. Commander Leonhart is actually a dear friend and my roommate."

"Your parents must be proud to have such a good-looking and talented son." He's flirting with me?

"Thank you, but...they're dead." I blushed for the first time in a long time; what was I supposed to do? I'm the one who flirts, not the one on the receiving end of the flirt. "All but one of my friends grew in the same orphanage though they all can't remember it."

"I'm sorry about your parents. I appreciate you and your friends for saving the world." He's kind of quiet. It's a bit unnerving especially with the red eyes bearing into your soul.

At that moment, I hear the train whistle.

"Well it's nice to be appreciated, thank you Vincent. I have a question: were you always a teacher or were you in the military or something?"

The man didn't hesitate though he looked like he wanted to. "I was in the Turks in a city called Midgar for a company called Shinra, but life took a shit on me", as usual the train begins passing. I hear the familiar "shnnnnk" of Squalls window going up, "so this is what I do now. Especially since my ex tried to kill me." Our eyes went to the routinely opened window as the gunblade pokes out the window, followed but the bark of a single shot. And the gunblade disappeared and the window slammed down again.

I turned back to Vincent as if this was the most natural thing in the world. "So...the Turks huh? I've never heard of them but it sounds interesting." Vincent was wide-eyed and speechless, white a sheet too (if that was possible for him to get any whiter).

"Well hey", I said, "nice meeting you, and if you want to stop by for a drink or something, we're always here." He nodded kind of vaguely, still staring at Squall's window and slowly walked backwards towards his own place, eyes never leaving the window.

Vincent then later explained to me (once we were going out) that the gunblade wasn't a weapon where he was from, and so seeing a sword stick out of a window and fired a bullet was unnerving, especially because it was being fired at a train. Vincent has since become one of the gang due to Squall's quirk and me liking his oh-so-plump rear. That was just one of the crazy things that happened this past year that involved Squall. Perhaps next time I'll tell how Squall broke up with his whore of a girlfriend Rinoa or maybe I'll tell how Vincent and I came to get together.