A/N: I do not own FF8 or any of its wonderful characters
A/N: I do not own FF8 or any of its wonderful characters. The wonderful Therapist Ms Adams however, belongs to me for all the part she really plays in this fic. If I did own the company however, I would have a FFVIII-2 out by now.
A/N 2: The idea behind this fic is that we're seeing snippets of Seifer's journal as he tries to recover from the problems of Final Fantasy 8. Day 1, Day 2 etc. are merely used to show an entry for a different day – in truth, the spaces between each could be anything from a day to a week, to months even. Does that make any sense? Probably not. I'm sorry. --
Yeah, this is an old story from my other account. Doubt that anyone will read it and that's fine - I just wanted to put it up again having made a few (hundred) changes.
After the war, Seifer had been allowed back to Garden but on the condition that he went to see a therapist, he went along but never said a word. It wasn't that he didn't want to – more that he didn't know where to start. Every time he tried, the words got all muddled in his mind long before they reached his mouth. It was around the time of his thirtieth session that he finally managed to tell Adams that much. When she'd realised the problem, she'd looked a little less irritated with him. That had to be something, right? Apparently, he was to keep a journal. At least that way, he could write up his thoughts and feelings in his own time – maybe even work through some of the things that she asked about during their sessions.
Okay, the first question you asked me … What do I think of the people round me? Honestly, you don't really want to know. However, since you asked:
Quistis: Has a poker made of ice shoved up her ass. Too badly in need of someone to come along and mess up her existence just a little to make her a little more attainable. Not for me though, I'm not that desperate.
Rinoa: Daddy's little princess – can't do anything without a man there to cling to.
Selphie: Messenger Girl – and that bloody hair…all bouncy and irritating!
Zell: Chicken-Wuss – Talks big but other than the sorceress crap, he has not bothered to do much of anything – too scared. Won't even ask that silly girl from the library out despite the fact that he sits and drools all over her every time he sees her. Don't even start me on the bloody shadow boxing!
Irvine: Pretty boy with a gun – thinks of himself as a ladies man. Yet the only girl who is really nuts about him and who he in turn is nuts about is the Messenger Girl. Yet does he do anything about her? No! Pathetic!
Squall: Puberty boy. Good with a gun blade though – well not as good as me obviously. How did that group of freaks save the world?
Fujin and Raijin: The best posse a guy could ask for.
Cid: A bumbling idiot. He's the closest thing I have to a father … perhaps it becomes more obvious why I turned out the way I did?
Edea: Wonderful woman. Matron - My mother.
Okay. I admit it - day fourteen of this little experiment and even I'm getting bored of keeping up this façade – so I'm gonna tell the truth. May as well write it down somewhere, right? After all, the journal obviously hadn't gone any further than this room as nobody was glaring at him any more than usual.
Fujin and Raijin – Truth was, I'm angry with them. I still hang around with them because there is no one else but I simply cannot forgive them for abandoning me when the going got tough. I mean, they are supposed to be my friends but they left me. How do we get past that? They promised me that we would always be a posse and would look out for each other but where were they when I needed them? Gone! So the truth is that in this world, I am alone. That suits me though. Means I don't have to worry about anyone else and am free to do as I please.
Fujin and Raijin – Okay, I talked this through with Adams. Since starting to take this more seriously, it is getting easier to talk about this stuff. Course it helps Adams that I know that you will read this after I go. That's fine. One thing I realise is that I am not looking at this right. I am looking at this as if I am the only one who matters but Fujin and Raijin are my two best friends. I owe them at least to try and see it from their point of view because up until that last fight and in fact after time compression ended, they have been there for me.
I remember the time that Raijin, Fujin and I all went out for the day. We ended up in the middle of nowhere and our car had broken down. I had got separated from Fujin and Raijin somehow when I was attacked by of all things a Ruby Dragon. Don't know to this day where it came from. It knocked Hyperion out of my hands before it could attack. I had no magic on me because back then I didn't like to junction GF's – thought that I was strong enough – hah! I sure learnt the hard way. That dragon knocked the complete and utter crap (this is my journal Adams, I will curse if I want to) out of me. The last thing I remember before I passed out was seeing Raijin come charging in and hauling me over his shoulder so that I could be healed. Fujin was using magic to protect him and me. When I was healed, we gave that dragon a taste of its own medicine. You should have seen those two in action. They sure were pissed off that it had hurt me. Oh they were good times! I miss them, I miss the closeness that we had before all this happened. Can we get that back?
So in relation to Fujin and Raijin, it boils down to one thing. Can I forgive them? I think that the point is (finally I get this) that no I can't because quite simply, there is nothing to forgive. They stuck by me as long as they could but the simple truth was that being a Knight was not their dream. By the end, what was happening conflicted totally against what they believed in. Had I been in my own mind, I would also have accepted that I too was not happy. This was not what I wanted. I joined Garden to protect those who couldn't protect themselves, the money that I had heard was involved didn't matter. The truth was though that Ultimecia had managed to manipulate me into a position were I felt that I was doing that. The reality was different obviously.
How many innocent people died at my hand because I was too weak? 100, 200, 1,000? I was trained to be a mercenary, how come the thought of what I did still hurts?