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[cross_swords]

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[vacantexpression]

There's no clean way to integrate Seifer back into society. The alternative to any kind of amnesty is to live on the lamb, constantly on the run and always at risk of being discovered. His brows furrow as Nida challenges this, but all of the points are valid. Seifer is the face behind untold harm on a global scale. Yes, Edea might have murdered a president in front of a crowd, but Seifer was on the front lines for every assault and grand declaration of tyranny. It would be hard to convince most people all of that was simply a product of manipulation or mind control. Worse, even if they could arrange a pardon under those circumstances, it could be argued as a dangerous precedent for others to claim they were under the sorceress' sway.

"Any chance for amnesty is going to be an uphill battle. The alternative is setting him up somewhere away from civilization, where he'll never get a chance to do anything else with his life. Where we let the history books write him off as some great evil when that's not who he is." But it was. It was exactly who he'd seen during the war. Someone who was ready to commit atrocities for his sorceress. And yet Squall can't shake the conversations they had before the SeeD exam. He can't simply erase the Seifer he knew and replace it wholesale with the Seifer who had tortured him. Who had tried to kidnap Rinoa and unleash Adel onto the world. Squall is clinging to the possibility that Seifer was somehow coerced or controlled because the alternative means coming to terms with the fact that he may be beyond saving or protecting. He'll do whatever he can to find out one way or the other.

"You were always going to take those vacation hours, Nida. Esthar's space program isn't a bad place to spend them." It's the most informal he's been with Nida since his arrival. Squall's smile is a shadow in the corner of his mouth as if to acknowledge the advantage that's been aired out between them. He knows he's bargaining for discretion here...and help too. If he can utilize all the advantages at his disposal for a shot at getting to Seifer and potentially finding him protection, then he'll cash in on every favor he acquired during the war to do it.

[seed_pilot]

Was he going to take those vacation hours though? Or was he going to keep fighting Squall about it? Granted, the fact that it's space being dangled in front of him makes it a lot more likely that he's going to agree with all of this.

"If this deal is real, then I'm going to agree," Nida says after a moment of consideration. "And I'm honestly assuming it's real because I can't see what you'd really get from lying to me."

Not that there would be repercussions to Squall if he did lie. Nida was loyal to Garden to a T, so he was going to agree either way. Especially since he believed in his Commander. The guy did save the world after all.

"But if you want me laying ground work, you also have to find a way to get me in to talk to people to make plans for this. And some authorization to actually make those. I'm not one of your friend group, just a regular SeeD. My word isn't going to carry the implied support that Selphie or Zell's would."

[vacantexpression]

There's nothing secret about Esthar's space program. Its operations, perhaps, but certainly not that they have one. Calling it as much is just Squall's way of tipping Laguna off over a phone line that he's asking for help. If he wanted to lean on the benefits of nepotism, he knows Laguna would make Nida's space faring dreams a reality and after everything he's drawn up to put him in touch with Seifer? It's the least he can do. To ask more of Nida feels unfair, but he can't trust anyone else. Not Rinoa, not his friends, and certainly not Garden. Each of them have good reason to want Seifer brought in and charged for his part in the war and no amount of persuasion from Squall is going to change that.

But Nida...Whatever it was they were to each other, Squall feels safe to lean on that connection. "You won't be there to represent SeeD. You'll be there on your own merit and at the request of the President, helping him personally build his case while we make our way across Horizon Bridge to the border." The folded piece of paper is withdrawn from his pocket and offered across the desk for Nida to read. It outlines the exceptional qualities displayed during the war and Nida's prowess at the helm of Garden which he's hand drafted in their time apart. "Give this recommendation letter to the President on your arrival. He's sending transport to collect you."

It's not enough. Squall understands there's still a definitive lack of power that Nida must feel. Power that, until now, could only be achieved through rank or recommendation. He has something more meaningful, however, to tie him to Laguna. With a bracing breath, Squall says, "I always assumed I'd have to do this alone, but it'll be nice to have a man on the inside. This is something the President and I have been organizing since...well, since we lost track of him. He's prepared to support us however he can as both a political ally and my father."

[seed_pilot]

Strange to think that Nida's earned such a level of trust, all by trying to avoid the ghosts of his own past for so damn long. And look, Squall was giving him another out to use up his vacation time and keep avoiding the ghosts that haunt him.

"Another long hike for you then? Hopefully this time you won't have to carry someone. Selphie tells quite the story about when they caught up to you."

Which he only knows because Selphie LOVES to tell the story about Squall carrying Rinoa off like that. The romance angle was played up SO MUCH. For what it's worth, Nida thought it was maybe romantic and absolutely foolish. Hey, people can be critics and still loyal. And even respectful, like he is when he slips the paper into his pocket, without reading it. There were somethings he didn't want to see written down, including platitudes thrown about that probably were just facilitating Squall's ends.

"Transport here, or transport from another place? Whatever it is, please just tell me it's not a train."

Yeah, a guy from the Timber area who was not fond of trains. Make all the jokes needed.

"I'll do what I can to help you," he promises as he stands and walks around the desk. "If this is the play you think is best for Garden and for Almasy, then I'm in your corner. I believe that you wouldn't be doing this if you didn't really believe in it. I just thank you for your trust, sir. I know I'm not nearly as impressive as you and the other heroes of the war, but I've always just tried to do my best."

[vacantexpression]

It's been a long time since Squall has had to face palm but he smothers a groan behind his palm at the idea of Selphie sharing overselling his journey across the abandoned railway. The brief wash of blackness takes him back to the bridge and the weight of Rinoa on his back which is better than the memory of walking alone through the endless stretch of cracked earth at the edges of Time Compression. "I'm sure she does," he grouses with a deep sigh.

Nida's transport will be by air, something he mentions before following up with the inevitable, "Why not a train?" His brow arches to encourage an answer, but Squall isn't one to press for personal information. If Nida wants to bypass the subject, he won't push. Though knowing now how entangled their lives are, he can't say his curiosity isn't piqued.

As Nida rounds the desk, Squall straightens to receive him with a little more formality than their previous conversations. He takes a moment to muscle his way past the knot in his stomach at the mention of Seifer's best interests. "Heroes are just a product of circumstance. Their actions are only impressive because someone decided to put a spotlight on them. Don't let that devalue your contributions to SeeD or Garden...Or the people you've saved. Your best has always proven to be impressive."

After all, Nida had passed the SeeD exam right alongside them. He'd been there for the clash of the Gardens and the war against NORG. Squall might have come out of Time Compression with a good deal more trauma than when he went into it, but he's at least found the resolve to bolster those under his command. He considers Nida a moment then ventures to ask, "Would you do any of this differently?"

[seed_pilot]

"When I was shipped off to Garden when I was a kid, the train broke down in the undersea tunnel. We were stranded there for hours."

So yeah, trains, they're really uncomfortable for him. Which he puts up with for work, but he's not going to do that for this particular 'vacation'. For Timber, yeah, it had been the logical approach. But Esthar? A lot of trains, that route.

Your best has always proven to be impressive. Talk about words that made Nida chuckle softly to himself. His mind turned to Cid, to a history he didn't know how to put into words. He had lived up to the promise the man had asked of him.

"If I was in your position? I don't know. I haven't lived your life, and I'm one of a large number of people that can only speculate on the connection you shared with Seifer. But you're also the knight of a Sorceress. Way I see it, there are only three people alive in the world that may understand Seifer's position in all of this. One of them checked out to retire with his Sorceress, who got forgiven for the things she was forced to do, at least enough to put her into a quiet bit of safety. That leaves you in a unique position to handle this. Or so I'd say."

[vacantexpression]

Being stranded in the undersea tunnel would be enough to turn anyone claustrophobic, not to mention make them adverse to train travel. An unfortunate phobia given the railways that connected everyone. He purses his lips with a nod, acknowledging but not going so far as to offer sympathy. He's changed over the course of the war, but not so much that he's gotten any better at commiserating.

The papers on the desk are given a glance as he considers Nida's words, knuckles pressed down into the wood with a sigh. Most days Squall misses the ease that came from taking orders, but he squares back his shoulders to look a little more sure of himself. There was no time for self-pity or second guessing himself. Time wasn't going to wait for him. It never has. So he nods in quiet gratitude. "Then I better go handle it." They exchange salutes one more time. More out of habit than any real need for formality. "Thank you, SeeD Nida. We'll be in touch. Until then...enjoy your vacation."

[seed_pilot]

Hilariously, it had never been a cause of claustrophobia for him. Just trains. But he was still willing to stick it out as much as he needed to for his life and his work.

"Glad to help, Commander," Nida agrees with a nod. The salutes already handled he instead stretches his arms while walking to the door. "Good luck with your... Actually, would you like Cactaur? Just in case the luck really would help?"

[vacantexpression]

There's a moment of hesitation as Squall weighs the odds of who is most likely to benefit from a bit of luck, but ultimately he acquiesces with a nod. "He was stubborn on the best of days and I'm guessing he hasn't seen those in awhile...I'll take all the luck I can get."

[seed_pilot]

Seems logical. And honestly, all Nida needs is Siren. He's far too fond of her to want to pair with others at the moment. He reaches out, the briefest of touches against Squall's arm for the anchor of contact that was needed for transfer between two less familiar people. A flash of a moment and the GF was shifted over.

"Take all the luck you can get. I find Aura spells junction well with it. And with that, I'm off to have the longest nap ever because I can't imagine you managed to get your... presidential contact to get here that fast."

Please let them not have. Because he wants to sleep and he's going to do his best to talk the person to let him handle flying whatever it was back.

"I'll do what I can on my side. And if no one hears from you in, like, two weeks I'll tell Xu what you were up to."

He figured that was the best way to give the guy the time he needs without being annoying. Who knows how long it would take to talk Seifer into something.

[vacantexpression]

"Thanks. Get some rest, Nida," he encourages with a nod, ignoring for now the prickle of having something newly junctioned after time apart. Cactaur had always been best paired with other party members with Squall preferring GFs with more aggressive utility. He doesn't complain, however, just rides out the sensation before taking a deep, bracing breath.

The record has long since stopped its playing, in need of being restarted or turned over, so he's not sure how long it takes him to acknowledge the timeline but after a second or two, Squall blinks his way back into the present. "Two weeks. Got it."

He sees Nida to the door because it feels like the right thing to do but also because Squall knows the journey he's about to embark on will be a lonely one until he's face to face with Seifer. All of his former desires for solitude went out the window with Time Compression. Now he feels the ache of isolation beginning to creep in as he says his farewells. "An Esthar ship will arrive tomorrow afternoon for you. Good luck."

[cross_swords]

If there was one thing to be said for the briefing packet that Nida put together for Squall, it was really on thorough. Right down to the description of the path that would lead Squall out of Timber, toward a nearby forest, and through it to the isolated location of a cabin. The forest is thick, the sort of messy and overgrown place that says humans haven't been around in very long, and yet there are still some game trails through it to make the path easier.

There is also, it turned out, some things Nida didn't remember. Or perhaps didn't know. Or maybe just came about later from a paranoid mind. Because now there are triplines hidden in the forest floor detritus. Not the sort to catch or to harm, but to warn.

Luck only gets one so far, or perhaps it isn't in play. Maybe it's just that this is the luckiest thing that could happen. But in his advance toward the cabin, just as it's coming into sight, there's a noise. Sticks rattling against each other overhead. As the noise carries and fades the prior quiet sound of chopping fades away in its own right, and with that growing silence comes a heavy thud, perhaps of someone throwing the axe aside.

"Guess I should say something now," a tired voice, Seifer's voice, comes from out of sight. From behind the cabin that has clearly seen better days but is already showing some signs of someone attempting to clean and patch it up. "You give your word that you'll turn me over to Garden, and I promise I'll come peacefully. But any sign the route is leading toward Deling City, and we'll have some problems."

[vacantexpression]

Sometimes Squall wonders if Seifer would take it back, that morning of their SeeD exam when they'd carved into each other's faces. He's always wondered why Seifer kept the mark. Why he hadn't just healed the both of them after Squall had passed out or why he hadn't at least healed himself.

The marks have made them the most recognizable men on the planet. It's why Squall travels with his covered up, borrowing from the espionage lessons he never quite got to put into effect. He uses them now, mostly to move through Timber unbothered, ball cap pulled low over his brows and leathers traded out for the kind of denim local lumber workers were commonly dressed in.

He doesn't look like a SeeD until he's deep in the wilderness, checking for traps and signs of disturbance in the bramble. He can't exactly be sure what kind of reception he'll get from Seifer or if the place might be surrounded by precautions, so Squall takes his time advancing on the cabin, timing movements to the metronome of Seifer's axe splitting wood.

His pack chooses an inopportune moment to snag on a branch, momentarily derailing Squall's progress that when started up again, catches along a trip wire that gives away his approach. Fuck. Silence stretches out for several long moments and his ears strain for any signs of movement. The last thing he needs is to spook Seifer into running. Especially now when he's so close.

The easy surrender isn't something he'd expected however. Or the exhaustion in that voice. Hyne, that's Seifer's voice. Something in Squall wrenches with the sound of it and he feels the agonizing ache of hope for the first time since the war's end.

"Why Garden?" he pitches his voice but knows better than to think he can fool Seifer. They both took the same lessons in subterfuge, after all. He removes his cap, swipes the back of his hand across his forehead, and begins his advance, ready to chase Seifer if he has to but something tells him his rival is tired of running.

[cross_swords]

Talk about a voice he wasn't expecting. And the only one that happened to be the most likely to actually bring Seifer slowly circling around the old cabin. His eyes meet Squall's and he wilts just a little. Because of course it would be him.

"Because I assume you'd make it quick and clean. Pretty sure the new Galbadian president would do a big, showy public execution and make it hurt. Which is ironic, given they chose to get into everything willingly."

The man looks.. tired. Worn. Weary. His cost is nowhere to be seen, and it makes sense given the fact that he had clearly been working. His arms shine with a faint bit of sweat, probably from chopping wood. His hair is not nearly so neatly arranged as it was always kept before. Instead it hangs shaggy around his face. Nor is it as clean as it might otherwise have been, but who is to say if there was running water out here.

"You'd make sure of it, right? You were always a better man than me, Leonhart. Figured you wouldn't hold enough of a grudge to make it messy. And you must want to do it yourself, given you're here. I'm guessing Nomura told you where to find me?"

[vacantexpression]

Seeing him makes Time slow as Squall is forced to rewrite the image of Seifer in his memory with the man that comes into view. He feels a void trying to hollow out the center of that familiar face, to prevent Squall from absorbing the sight of it, but he blinks away the trauma of Time Compression and sees Seifer as the war has left him. Hyne, he looks so tired.

Squall hates the resolution in Seifer's voice. Of course he's considered how he'd die and would be the one to do it. Every nation is clambering for the opportunity. He wants to be impassive as he listens but ultimately Squall can't help but scoff. He'd never been the better man. He'd just been the one with the most opportunity. And that had never been Seifer's fault. It had been by design. Squall's design, however inadvertent it had been.

His brows pinch even as he straightens against the words. "It is his cabin," Squall points out as confirmation but doesn't elaborate further. "We didn't do much talking." The words taunt him and he smothers it down with a deep breath of crisp air.

"I'm not here to take you back to Garden, Almasy. And killing you would just mean I lugged all these provisions for nothing. So if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not have this conversation out in the open." His pack is shifted on his shoulders for emphasis. Nida's maps and reports had been instrumental in getting him to this point. The supplies Nida ordered however are the real advantage and Squall hopes they're enough to barter some cooperation.

[cross_swords]

"I know," Seifer acknowledges. "Pretty clear it would be. Tell him he's done a shit job of keeping it in shape."

Still, the news that Squall isn't here has this look of confusion flickering over his face. Like he can't understand it. Which is true, he can't. This wasn't how he imagined all of this going. He had tortured Squall, no two ways about it. He'd tried to kill them multiple times. So why be willing to talk? Why lug provisions in?

It takes a few solid minutes to consider his decision. At last he sighs and circles around the cabin.

"Door's over here. Just don't expect me to start a fire when I don't anticipate we're staying here long."

Another way of saying 'I don't believe you.'

[vacantexpression]

It takes a concentrated effort not to tell Seifer he can tell Nida himself. He's not here to air out any petty grievances and he certainly doesn't want to wear his jealousy openly. He's robbed them both of any opportunity to make their own destiny and so Squall buries the feelings of frustration while Seifer weighs the possibility of trusting him.

He's relieved to find that he does. At least for the moment. The door is something he makes his way to in slow, cautious steps. It's not that he thinks Seifer will try to spring anything on him but Squall doesn't feel like making any more noise in the wilderness than he has to.

The inside of the cabin is given a cursory glance once he's inside of it. It reminds Squall of the caves animals would retreat into to go die in and the thought adds another knot in his stomach. His pack is dropped beside the hearth of the fire place, left as a peace offering which he backs away from so Seifer can inspect it at his leisure.

There are a few things in addition to Nida's provisions which Squall had packed before leaving Garden. "Food, water...some fresh clothes from your dorm." It had been raided for inspection by the Garden faculty after Seifer went AWOL but Squall had ordered the room be kept vacant after the war. Like a mausoleum to all the things they'd never gotten the chance to do in it. A picture of Seifer, Fujin, and Raijin is tucked into one of the pockets. For all that Squall has planned to bring Seifer to Esthar, he wants him to come willingly, but has prepared for the possibility that this might in fact be where they say goodbye.

He hopes it isn't.

"Get changed. I'll make a fire." Because if Seifer wasn't going to trust that they would be here a moment, Squall would just have to forge that path himself.

[cross_swords]

Seifer had stepped aside as he entered the cabin and started to watch Squall evaluating the place. He can see the judgement there, can read it because he knows Squall like no one else does. Or he used to. Who knows if he does now. But it makes him bristle just a little. The place is shit for being abandoned for years, but he's done some work. The table mostly works, he made a stool out of a section of a log that he left standing there, and look, he even cleaned, resealed, and tested the fire place in the main room.

But the dismissal is a dismissal and he sighs before grabbing the bag.

"There's a well out back. Good fresh water. Haul some out. There's a big basin for cleaning in the kitchen. If I'm getting changed I'm getting a bit cleaned up too," Seifer insists.

He gestures toward a back corner with a stone oven and a big metal basin set into some more stonework. Seems like they had some things functional here.

[vacantexpression]

Of course he's judging. He's looking for signs of someone who wants to live. Who hasn't resigned himself. For some small spark of the Seifer that had charged forward through life, damn the odds stacked against him. He sees it in small pockets and it makes him breathe a little easier, relaxing into the ramshackle home. The weight of Seifer's presence however is one that overwhelms. They haven't been cordial in years. His body is thrumming with an adrenaline that's trying to prepare him for a fight even if his brain can't pick out the signs of one brewing.

Can he do this?

No, that doesn't matter. He owes it to Seifer to try and he wants...he needs the closure of everything they never got to talk about. All those days leading up to the SeeD exam have burned through him, making an indelible mark on his soul. And then the morning of...Hyne, he has so many questions and he would give anything to put the gleam back in Seifer's eyes because it wasn't some ineffable force that drove it out, it was him.

Having something to do that isn't getting lost in his own thoughts is a gift he's not sure Seifer knows he's offering, but Squall nods, happy to take orders after shouldering the weight of command for so long. The fire is something he starts by hand, taking the logs stacked by the hearth and lighting with practiced ease. The stove earns the same treatment before he goes to lift the bucket dolly but he finally idles at the door. "Don't run." It doesn't sound like an order when he says it, but Squall doesn't linger in the weariness of his own words and instead puts himself to the task of hauling fresh water from the well to the cabin so Seifer can have hot water to wash up with.

[cross_swords]

Seifer scoffs at the idea of running. If this flight hadn't been enough, then there wasn't really a chance to get away, now was there? He sighs and moves to dig through the bag, pulling out sturdy pants, a long sleeve shirt that will probably be tighter on him now with the difference in his muscle distribution (especially with the weight loss), and some undergarments. Now that is the biggest blessing of them all.

When the water is brought in and poured into the stoppered basin, Seifer hauls his shirt off without hesitation. Maybe he should hesitate. No way to know how Squall will handle it.

The it in this case specifically being the heavy scarring on his back. Scars that definitely hadn't been there before the SeeD exam. Burns and cuts mar what was once flawless skin, and Seifer doesn't seem to be all that bothered by them, or all that hindered by their presence. His focus instead is on wetting a cloth in the water and wiping his skin off with it.

[vacantexpression]

Squall isn't prepared. He'd known to some degree that there would be changes in both of them, that the war will have left its mark in different ways, but Squall isn't prepared for the brutality mapped across Seifer's back. It stops him in his tracks, the force of it sloshing a bit of water onto the floor from the extra buckets he's hauled in.

There is a hot, primal rage that roars silently through him and he knows it comes from Ifrit as much as it does himself. Like he'd smash through a city to protect you.

"Seifer."

His own dealings with the sorceress have left a mark carved into him, showing where he's been speared through with ice, but that had been achieved through the heat of battle. What he's looking at now as he sets the buckets down and approaches is abhorrent in its methodical nature. These are marks meant to hurt for the sake of hurting.

He can't touch. That's too intimate. It's too...familiar. But his hand outstretches for just a moment with the impulse. "Her work or someone else's?" He needs to know who to direct his fury and the way he almost visibly shakes with it. Maybe it's a symptom of their fucked up training, but he'd always been offended by Seifer's means of interrogation. They'd been so impersonal, like Squall hadn't been worth the effort. Garden had taught them more effective ways of extracting information than electrocution. He'd thought it was a symptom of Seifer being under the sorceress' influence but maybe he'd just been sparing him the worst of what she was capable of.

[cross_swords]

"Both," Seifer admits, the statement empty of any emotion. Just someone reporting on something innocuous happening. Maybe he once observed the time in such a tone. "But only ever at her will. There were repercussions for losing against you time again, Squall. Even if it took three of you, and ultimately a rare GF, to stop me."

He had been even stronger then, flooded with his mistress's power. And still he failed. Time after time. Punishment had been expected.

"Fujin and Raijin helped me recover, after. Every time, after, she'd toss me at them. They'd have orders to have me patched up and ready. I'd send them away when I could."

To protect them from Ultimecia's wrath. And now he's clearly sent them away again. Likely for their own safety.

[vacantexpression]

Toss me at them. As if Seifer were some kind of rag doll in need of upkeep. He'd watched Seifer single-handedly kill one of the strongest GFs ever uncovered and this was his reward. Fire and pain. It had felt too risky, too obvious, to reach out to Fujin and Raijin before leaving but now Squall wishes he'd taken the chance. Not because he'd rather they be here in his stead but because he wants someone waiting for Seifer when they get to Esthar. People who will make him feel safe.

He hopes Nida will do what he couldn't. Maybe that's why Seifer's here, in his cabin. A safe space built upon whatever it was they might have had during their years as cadets. Squall sucks in a breath and is only too sorry to be what Seifer has instead.

"I didn't know."

There's a lot Squall doesn't know about Seifer anymore, what happened to him during the war and why he made the choices he did. He's come to find out just as much as he's come to offer a way out.

He can't take his eyes off of the gruesome work. If there's anyone left alive that's responsible, he doesn't think he has it in him to be as objective as he has been with Seifer. He used to pity Ultimecia for the cycle they've found themselves in. A story that will always end at the beginning. But now he wishes he'd derived more satisfaction from ending her. Could he be that kind of man?

"Is this all of it?"

[cross_swords]

"We're enemies. Why would you have known?" he asks, sounding irritated that the guy would ever suggest it. Instead he focuses on finishing cleaning his torso before pulling on the shirt.

"No," Seifer answered simply. But he's not making a motion to take off his pants to get clean. That will wait for one of the small bedrooms.

"Can't imagine why you'd care."

[vacantexpression]

The confirmation that there's more is like a gut punch. It hits harder than Seifer dismissing him as an enemy. As if Squall hadn't tried talking Seifer down at every possible avenue because the threat of having to kill him instead was a last resort he never get to.

"Because didn't deserve it." Any of it. To have been cast aside by Garden, to have been manipulated into being a knight, to have been butchered like cattle. Then again, nothing about their lives has been about merit. Squall feels sick from all the unknown horrors Seifer might have suffered because of the path he set them on.

He's vibrating with the urge to shake Seifer of his insouciance. As if anything about them was ever so neatly cut and dry. Rivals and enemies, like they had never occupied the spaces in between. Maybe they hadn't. Maybe it was all in Squall's head.

He turns it away from Seifer and gives him his space, reluctantly withdrawing to the table where he sets his cap down and pushes fingers through his hair. "Is there anyone left alive that was responsible?" It's not just the undercurrent of vengeance that has him asking. He wants to know so he can have them flagged if they ever try to access Esthar. If Seifer comes with him, he's never letting any of them in the same city as him.