SeeD: Sprouting a New Generation. (THE REBIRTH)

[Lunasa]

((Everyone who signed up gets a the letter indicated below. Introduce your character in a fashion of your choosing. Thank you!))

It was about that time again for Headmaster Squall Leonhart. He was thumbing through the files of students, making notes in red on each of the papers, and outright chucking some into the bin behind him. He was deep in thought. What made up a SeeD? All these exams and notes seemed utterly pointless when it came to judging character. No one could pull out a few notecards and study the concepts. When it came to the real battle, it didn’t matter how much someone knew. It was the guts, the daring, the determination, and the skill. Squall had a selected few of students accepted, and sealed the envelopes, enclosing a certain letter in each.

Dear SeeD Candidate,
You’ve made it to the field test. Report to the Directory tonight at 11pm.”

It was short, cold, and to the point. Very Leonhart-esque.

Squall had begun to read again, and paused on a particular file. His were eyes alight, which was an action considered to be rare for this particular man.

“Headmaster!” said Xu, and she had sucessfully broke his gaze with her piercing voice.

“Xu…” whispered Squall, etched abruptly out of deep thought, but never taking his eyes off of the paper.

“It’s about the mission. The SeeD field exam. We’re planning an infiltration of Esthar-”

“So I have heard, as much,” he interrupted coldly. “I know of your mission. You intend to use those candidates as bait, and have the real SeeD squads try and defeat her when her guards are after the testing squads…”

“Is it not brilliant enough?” she said, eyes beaming.

“Your plan requires many more layers than that to fool Ri-” he stopped himself. “The Sorceress. She is not to be underestimated.” Squall sighed. “Your plan has many holes, Xu. What would you do if any innocents were involved? There is no way that they can defeat the Sorceress while protecting a population of a billion. There is not enough manpower. Think outside of the box. You are a strategist, Xu. How do you get 1 billion people to flee a city?”

Xu pondered this thought for a bit, but to no avail… “I suppose you could start a rumor of a mass disease or something,” she said tentatively.

“Or rather, have a specific squad PRETEND to have a disease…” said Squall, unchanged. “People are very easy to manipulate. Show them symptoms. Show them fear. They will flee!”

“But they’ll…. THAT’S UNFAIR! DISHONEST!” Xu slammed her fist hard onto to Squall’s desk, appalled.

“If everything was fair, Xu, Rinoa would not be my wife. This faction in Esthar would not exist. They wouldn’t have manipulated innocent lives into this game. Laguna Loire would not be held hostage. People play dirty. It’s the name of the game. Esthar’s government is the epitomy of hell. We will be but a small flame compared to that ravaging fire…” he finished, and he continued to stare passionately into the same file.

“It only takes a small flame to ignite a city,” said Xu and she turned on her heel.

“They make fire extinguishers for a reason, you know,” said another man who entered and took off his cowboy hat and bowed to Xu. He gave her a suggestive wink.

“I sure hope you are right, Headmaster Kinneas,” eying him skeptically. “I’ll be in my office rewriting a plan, Headmaster.”

Xu left.

“Irvine, you sent your forces ahead, right?” said Squall coldly, still transfixed on the paper.

“Of course. It’s the least I could do for Rinoa’s sake,” replied Irvine.

“I hope so. Quistis is going to take up our rear. I just hope it will be enough.”

“Don’t be so down, man! It’s plenty! Plus you got that little miss making a plan of her own.” Irvine smiled greedily, indicating the door.

“I have no plans to carry out her wishes. She is merely organizing our battalion. This isn’t only Balamb’s war. She carries far too heavy a burden for us to bear all on our own.”

“You’re the man, Squall!” said Irvine, who tipped his hat. “I make my leave. Don’t let that battalion of yours get the crap kicked out of it!”

“I trust their skills.”

“Later, man!” said Irvine, and he holstered his gun on his shoulder and departed. Squall waited for the trenchcoat to disappear. He found the perfect candidate, someone who he hadn’t seen so much progress in years.

A gunblade specialist… Leo Claven… A name that must go on this list…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~

“So , SeeD attempts to interfere yet again, my love,” said a silky voice, stroking a blond man who lay across her lap.

“I pity SeeD, Sorceress Rinoa,” said the man on her lap, oddly robotic. The Sorceress adjusted her attire. “That’s right, Seifer, my love.” She continued to stroke his hair. “Look at me, SeeD,” she said, her eyes looking into Seifer’s strangely red ones. “You are foolish. Blind. Confused. You have no idea of the danger that threatens you. I know your weaknesses, your strengths. Your dire vulnerabilities. You are angered from when I slew Edea Kramer, the only parent figure you ever had. I wear her attire. It is much better looking on me, I think… Isn’t it, my love?”

“Yes, it is,” drawled Seifer, blank.

“Angelo!” she yelled to a monstrous, three-headed dog. “Be the first to send them into hell!”

The dog leapt into the sky and disappeared.

“Where was I? Oh, the beloved Lion’s anger, his pride. Attack on the outside. Attack the friends, seduce his heart into anger, as I have done to his…”

Selphie Tilmitt and Zell Dincht appeared, holding hands. They walked as one, attired in the same fashion of clothing as Rinoa.

“Yes, My Lady Rinoa,” they said in unison, in the same tone Seifer did.

“Let oneself make oneself a fool. That will be your ultimate end, Squall Leonhart. You will do anything for power. You blindly trust others. At this time, is it wise? There will be a betrayal among your rank. Who will it be? Irvine, that lech! Or perhaps it may be Quistis. She was always jealous of us. Or is it someone else? It’s time to feed into an ideal you once held so close…

“Trust no one. Act alone, be alone. Feel pain to yourself. Go mad, go insane, give me back that heart I once craved!”

The Sorceress laughed malevolently, echoing into the night.

[Ecnasaeflam]

It had been a long day. Full of trivialities, of classes and expectations, flirting and roughhousing. Another day in the life of a SeeD student.

Verdemar was proud, disdainful of most other students -- for whatever reason. Maybe it was the simple way they played at 'life', or the slang they used so readily, as if it were common-knowledge that to fit in, one had to abuse the language they had all grown accustomed to. To throw your learning aside in order to impregnate, fill another with life.

Drop out of school. Get a dead-end job. Toil your life away to pay off the debt you have incurred from your half-length at school, the car you bought, the child you raised. The schooling you gave your child.

Verdemar knew there was more to life than that, and he fully intended to prove it. He had worked hard, followed his training religiously, staying up nights not to drink, but to bury himself in his work with a religious sort of fervor, poring over archaic military texts, campaigns stretching hundreds of years.

The man was a tactician, a cool-hearted boy of military blood. It was in his lineage, tracing back to Veles Lyov I, a general of Galbadia in the days of the old Sorceresses, before this mess, with the Garden, Squall. His... lover? Only if the rumours were right.

It was a bad time to be a SeeD, which only made this choice stand out ever clearer to Verdemar. He would not fail.

Quick movements drew Verdemar to the cafeteria, at which point he sat, draping himself casually, comfortably, against a seat as he waited for the line towards the front to diminish.

COLE SLAW AGAIN!? C'MON.

The yelling. It was never old, never new. Always the same; complaints about rotten food that would probably always be rotten. It was these sort of thoughts, the cynical, foreboding part of Verdemar, that lead others to stray from him. The tactical mind hidden behind ever-changing eyes.

A cold demeanor, wrapped inside an equally chilly nature. There was an apple on the table. Grabbing it, Verdemar stood, striding from the cafeteria. A few hours of study were to be had.

~~

Verdemar found the envelope, tucked so neatly beneath his pillow that only the corner sprung out, a distinct white against the dulled grey of his bedsheets.

It was simple, unadorned. It raised eyebrows. Firm fingers swept in against the discreet envelope, played across the militaristic script that spelled out his name, and then flipped it over, searching for some sort of mark. Unable to, Verdemar simply shrugged, slipping one thin finger beneath the edge of the envelope and twisting, tugging his finger along the crease with a practiced ease - close enough to tear it smoothly open, yet far enough away to avoid the cut of paper.

The crisply folded paper within fell into Verdemar's hands as the man dropped the envelope against the tight folds of his bed, slowly pulling it open as if the paper were a miniature accordion. A ghostly smile played at his lips. Followed by a furtive glance around, to ensure no one was around before tucking the envelope into his vest and jacket.

The scene wouldn't be quite complete without the customary raise of his hand, the curl of his fingers into a fist, and the broad pump with which he brings the arm back down, nearly elbowing himself in the ribs as he whispers,

'Al-right!'

Turning, however, brings a new man to light, the smile gone, the excitement only visible in lightly shining eyes as he grabs the fallen envelope, folding it against his fingers and then depositing it in the trash on his way out of the room.

As Verdemar walked the corridors of the Garden, his eyes shifted this way and that, mentally composing the next bit of writing.

You know, they selected me. I knew they would, I suppose. Why wouldn't they? The rest of them, well. Exuberant. They aren't cold enough, can't make decision without emotion. Too...
(young)
naive...? No. Maybe. There isn't enough level-headedness these days, though... that girl. Katrina..? She's very...
(blank)
cold. No, not cold. Attentive. Something about her that...

Cut off by the cool click of heels behind him. Without turning, Verdemar hurried along his way, long-legged strides carrying him towards the Directory, where he would await the Headmaster's call.

((still not sure I like it. May change things up before the next person posts. Not the general gist... just tense errors, that sort of thing. We'll see.))

[BunnyBooL]

Flamia tapped her small desk in a slowish speed with her hand. She raised her head slowly to look in a mirror propped up on the desk. Ugly. Dark brown hair was covering most of her face, the only thing you could really see were her green eyes. She blinked a few times before she push the chair back and took only a step, then flopping down on her bed. She raised a eyebrow as she saw a white corner sticking out from under her pillow. Flamia touched the edge to find it sharp and bit her lip, grabbing the envelope and opening it.

'Hm..." She hummed as she read the message over. "So, I guess I better get ready to kiss the Headmaster's ass, then."

Flamia let the envelope drop to the floor and stood up once more, heading back to her desk. She pulled out one of the top drawers and pulled out a small clip, one that was shaped like a feather. With one hand she held her hair up and with the other hold the clip, pinning her hair down quickly with it.

She closed the door and express another sigh; it would soon be time to head to the Directory. She pulled out a pair of long, red gloves and put them on carefully. She then cracked her fist and left the dorm.

---

As soon as Flamia was walking through the Garden and toward the Directory, she put on her usual frown. Most of the time she was the moody-type and other people thought she was too. So to prove to anybody she had never met before, she usually putted on a frown.

As she walked through the corridors, she could see a boy. Her walking pace was slightly faster than his and she quickly past him, but not without giving a grunt.

Hm... I wonder who else received that letter, if any others did.

[Fehrant]

The dorm had only one source of light at the moment. Through almost closed curtains the sun shone brightly; it gave the room a dark gray hue that blended in with the mold green bedsheets, the brown and cream walls, the dark wooden bedside furniture, and the white tiles of the bathroom far away, barely getting any light.

A girl rested in one of the beds, though the was perfectly dressed, and the bed sheets were properly tucked in. She laid there with one arm across her face shielding her eyes. On her other hand she held a letter, the contents already read two times over. Her head raced with thoughts, but unlike what one would expect from such an academical celebrity, they had a different nature.

Why aren't I excited about this? She thought. I have studied hard for this moment. I have trained both mentally and physically. I have received the support of my parents several times throughout, sharing the joy of my academical achievements insofar. While other people went out to do idle social activities I have used my time effectively to study. I have refrained from typical, young-age vices such as alcohol or tobacco. I have sought to improve myself with every turn. I have sweat. I have bled. All for my goals. My goals. My... goals.

...Mine?

She took her arm off her eyes, and they slowly adjusted to the dim light in the room. They were fixated on the room. It was the glance of someone who had just come to a realization. Though it would be a incorrect to say it had suddenly dawned on her. It was the results of gradual experiences and faint thoughts that accumulated with each of these events.

They are not my goals. They have never been my goals. Ever since I was little I was conditioned by my parents. They wanted me to join SeeD. They wanted me to become a top student. They wanted me to become a capable warrior. And I nodded my head every time. They smiled, and I smiled. They angered, and I angered. What have I become...? What are my motivations? Where have my childhood years gone to? I never smoked. I never drank. I don't have any friends; only academical colleagues, roommates, neighbors, classmates. I have always dressed to please other people. My parents. Mostly my parents. I have worn the SeeD uniform like I had no other clothes. I have stood in vainglorious pride like a role model to be followed, and many have looked up to me. To the empty vessel that is me.

What... am... I?

A single tear made its way down a river of beautiful white skin. Suddenly, the doorknob turned, and she quickly wiped it. In came a girl clearly partial to gothic fashion; two pony tails of raven black hair, leather pants, long army boots, a tight corset atop a long shirt of plain black, and a trenchcoat. A hand with black nails was about to turn on the lights of the dimly lit room, when the girl became aware of Katrina's presence.

"Oh, didn't notice you there," she said, casual. She stopped and looked around as if appreciating the rather gloomy setting, then grinned. "Not fitting for the Shining Queen," she declared, sardonic. "Matter of fact, I think we oughta switch places, heh."

Shining Queen? Yes. I suppose I shine too much for other people like you. I am about to become something, and you're still nothing. An empty paper. A composition that doesn't even have a title. I deal with jealous people like you all the time. I am used to it. Underachieved initiates, and their cocky attitudes.

"I do not appreciate your tone."

What? That's my response? What can't I express my frustration in a fashion befitting my mood? Why must I measure my every word, care for my appearance and always project success? Oh, but isn't this what you always told me to do, my dear father and mother? I need to break from this cycle. I need to... I need to...

The gothy girl was not surprised by the response. "My apologies, Queen," she replied almost systematically in a dull tone. She turned on the lights, and went to rummage through some of her stuff on her desk, ignoring Katrina as she got up from the bed, fixed her hair, braced her clothes, and exited the room, still holding the letter.

As the door closed behind her, she let out a sigh. She walked towards the cafeteria, head held high, like she had been taught. Her silky hair danced with her every step, and eyes across the hall traced her figure. As far as the world was concerned, it was just another day for her. Just another day.

[Aerif]

Breakfast in the cafeteria was always a busy time, since the room didn’t open until 9am and by that time most of the garden was awake and hungry. The women who staffed the cafeteria often had their work cut out for them preparing the many meals for the inhabitants of the Garden and dealing with students that didn’t understand that hot dogs were not available at breakfast time. The main problem they faced, however, was when a ‘conversation’ got out of hand.

A large crowd had gathered around one of the tables, a tale was being told by one of the more ‘creative’ students of Balamb Garden. The cafeteria staff would normally be in a state of panic if such a large group of students appeared, however they were used to the stimulating effect that Meadow Phantom’s stories seemed to have on her fellow students. After all, in the past week alone she had managed to grab the attention of the disciplinary committee, the library committee and the festival committee, without the need to cause a fight, burn a book or say bad things about the bespectacled leader of the festival committee. In a way, the cafeteria staff considered her an asset; she certainly brought them more business anyway!

“… And that is how I single-handedly saved the lives of Headmaster Leonhart, Headmistress Trepe and… uh… the other one!”

The story had finished and for a brief moment there was silence and yet again Meadow had told another successful story, until…

“Are you sure you’re telling the truth?” piped up a tall member of the disciplinary committee.

“Of course I am,” replied Meadow confidently, “If I wasn’t then why would I have this picture of the headmaster’s gunblade?”

The evidence of the photograph seemed to satisfy the crowd, though as usual there was an exception…

“How do we know that you didn’t just download that picture from Garden’s website?”

This question stumped her, and she fiddled with the ribbon on her uniform before saying anything else.

“Er… As much as I’d like to answer that question… I have to go and… um… Prepare for my SeeD exam. Which is too take place in… er… The quad, tomorrow morning at 0400 hours. Please feel free to make banners and cheer me on.”

And with that, Meadow made a swift exit to prevent any more questions from being asked of her. Luckily none of her classmates were silly enough to listen to her stories and thus none of them had been able to contradict her when she made the outrageous claims that she had saved Squall Leonhart’s live or had even met Quistis Trepe, there had also been nobody to tell those listening to her story not to turn up on the quad in the middle of the night to witness an exam that wasn’t scheduled for 4 o’clock in the morning.

Meadow used her story-telling to blow-off excessive steam, when she was particularly stressed her stories were more elaborate than usual. And the prospect of the SeeD exam at 11pm was a very scary thought indeed, causing the very ‘interesting’ story that she had just told to the others students. None of it was true of course, it was just Meadow’s way of getting people to respect and admire her. The main problem was that people did really respect her, she just didn’t realise that.

[Acheron]

As the sun was just rising up over the horizon of the ocean, there was much going on in the downtown section of Dollet. With the markets opening right away, plenty of people would be coming down to get their hands on the freshest produce around or possibly trying to find an early morning bargain. None of that mattered to one young man in particular, as today was going to be his last morning in Dollet. He ran through the downtown area, dodging pedestrians as he biked along the streets. A few hours ago, he had started and finished his run workout, now he was on the bike section. Sweat ran down his forehead and then further onto his white t-shirt, his blue shorts rode up a little bit on him as he biked his way up the steep street. Once he was at the top of the hill, the black iron gate swung open to allow him access to the mansion and it's yard beyond the gate.

The people of Dollet did not know much about the young man who lived in the home, this was something done intentionally by him. Both he and the two young women he lived with wanted it this way, they had only been in Dollet for three months but it had been going well. He brought his bike into the home after he opened the large oak doors, once he had stored it away in one of the many closets, he made his way into the kitchen. As curious as he was, he ignored the daily paper sitting on the marble countertop and poured himself a glass of water from the tap. While he was drinking the water, a young looking brunette came in from the back door, a watering can in hand showing she just finished with the garden out back.

"Looks like you got a pretty decent workout, not like you really need it", she walked over to the young man and placed the watering can down on the countertop.

"It wasn't too bad, crowds seem to get worse and worse. And despite what you might say, I do need it, what's coming up isn't going to be that easy...", he placed his empty glass back down into the sink and turned around, locking his green eyes into the woman's pair of brown, "Sorry Felicia, I didn't mean to be..."

"Don't apologize Jackson, it's fine. I know what it's like to be under such pressure, well not pressure, but I know what the situation is", she opened up one of the cupboards above the counter and pulled out a teapot.

"You read my mind. Could you start up Lucy's breakfast while I shower? You can just leave it outside of her door, I'll take it into her once I'm all cleaned up", Jackson didn't wait for the answer that he already knew and went straight upstairs to his lavish bedroom.

Quickly he took off his shirt and shorts, the underwear following and his shoes had long been off since he got in the house. The water from the shower started off fairly cold but rapidly got warmer, which then prompted Jackson to enter its stream. Each drop of water trickled over his numerous scars, burns and the few gunshot wounds that his body owned. The scars, burns, wounds, all of them came along with a different story from his life. His tattoos, the two black "X"s on his back, were also another story for him.

Once finished in the shower, Jackson started dressing in the bedroom that he never expected to return to. Black dress pants, a black with white pinstripes shirt, a black vest over that and then a white tie; while he was only traveling today, he wanted to make sure he looked his best. Even if he wanted something more casual, most of his clothes had been taken over to the Garden already. He finished off the look by putting on a bowler, then slipping his pocket watch into one of his pockets, while also clipping it to his belt. Before he left the room, he grabbed a belt which held his daggers and a few throwing knives.

Jackson was going to miss walking down the hallway like he was, the white carpet and the walls adorned with various artwork always made him feel accomplished. Finding this place was a steal, remote enough that he felt they could be safe here but close enough to Timber that he didn't feel too disconnected. The tray was sitting on the table outside of the last room down the hallway, just like Jackson had asked Felicia to do. He picked up the tray gently, then opened up the bedroom door.

The sunlight punched through the large window at the end of the room but the young woman sitting in the chair didn't seem to mind. She sat motionless in front of the window, ignoring everything else in her spacious room. Jackson brought the tray of breakfast over to the table near the girl, placing it down and he started to make her tea. Once he finished making her a cup, he walked over to her vanity and grabbed a hairbrush as well. He placed the brush in the girl's lap and then started to bring the tea cup to her lips.

"It's Earl Grey, your favorite", he said this in something of a hopeful tone, wanting his last moments at the home to be something he could remember in a pleasant way.

The girl sipped some of the tea, then took a bite of the toast that he brought to her mouth once he placed the tea cup down. She was being easier than usual, which made Jackson pretty happy but compared with how she acted towards others, he didn't have much to complain about. He grabbed the brush from her lap and stood behind the chair, starting to brush her long, blonde hair.

"It's really pretty, isn't it?", he knew that she enjoyed the sunrise and that the morning was her favorite time of day, but she would never say as much.

"I'm going away for a little while Luce. Felicia is going to stay here and take care of you, so please try and be nice to her, you know that she tries her best to do what she can. Hopefully....I won't be gone for too long but I can't promise you when...", he stepped around from the back of the chair and dropped the brush. He got on a knee in front of his sister and placed a warm hand on one of her cheeks.

"But I can promise you one thing...I will make sure they answer for what has been done. Once that happens...I'll be back here and then we can go away, wherever you want or we can stay...whatever you want when this is all over", he got off his knee and gave her a kiss on the cheek where his hand had been. He left the room once he was finished with her, looking back once before he closed the door and went downstairs. It was the garden out back where he found Felicia, sipping some tea herself.

"She took a few sips and bites, more than usual. She understands what's going on, I don't think she'll give you too much trouble, she likes you more than she would ever say", him saying that was a joke in itself, as his sister hadn't said a word in nearly three years.

"I'm sure it will be fine, she's a blessing compared to the lot I was used to in Special Forces. So...are the plans the same?", she broke her gaze from the ocean over to Jackson for that question.

"Yes. I highly doubt they're going to come here, sometimes I even wonder how much of a priority we are to them. That aside, things should be fine here. If, and of course this is a major if, if they do come here, then you're going to have to spill some blood. Winhill is the safe house if it is needed. To be safe, we aren't going to be able to communicate just to be safe...if you aren't here when I'm finished, then I'll look in Winhill and if you're not there...I'll find you."

Felicia nodded to all of that, understanding what it all meant. She took another sip of her tea before looking back to the ocean, "So you're really going through with all of it? That's...What about Emily?"

Jackson pretended not to hear her last question. He leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek, "Thank you Felicia. I look forward to coming back to see the two of you."

With that last kiss to his sister's protector and those last words, Jackson didn't want to voice his biggest fears. He feared that this would be the last time he ever set foot on this yard, the ideal setting for his damaged sister and the hideout that he had needed for them. As he started down the hill and made sure that he had his train tickets, Jackson figured he couldn't worry about that, he couldn't afford to with what was ahead of him.

Destroying SeeD would be a grand task indeed.

_______________________________________


Jackson arrived in Balamb at the mid afternoon. Though he had already called ahead, he knew that he did not have enough time to see Emily or catch up with her. A shame, at least in his mind it was, for she was someone he held dear to his heart. Soon enough though, she was going to have to pick a side, as there was a side to Jackson he had hidden from her. A side that he had hidden from everyone, that included Squall, the Headmaster of the Garden.

Once he entered the gates of the Garden, Jackson went to his room to make sure that everything was in order from what he sent ahead. When he saw that it was, he decided he would grab some lunch from the cafeteria, then head back to his room to read a little bit. Before he left for the cafeteria though, he opened the letter that had been resting on the pillow of his bed. The exam, at 11pm tonight, it certainly caught him off guard.

"Already? I didn't think it would come so soon....No matter....It should be just fine..."

He did his best to keep his thoughts clear as he headed towards the cafeteria. Once he would be finished there, his time would then be spent in his room, reading a novel till it was time to meet at the Directory.

[Fehrant]

She walked down the halls aimlessly, still holding the letter in her hand, oblivious. Right now what she wanted, what she was looking for, was a place to sit and be alone with her thoughts for a moment; not even in her room did she find the privacy she was looking for right now.

It was still early for Squall's curtly-announced appointment, an event that should been all in her head, though she realized it was only a figment of her worries. Passing or not passing, that wasn't a concern for her. All of her life, she had achieved academic success, on several levels. All due to her sheer efforts and natural talent combined together. So passing, no, that truly wasn't concern. It had never been. The problem was being among the best. Anything less would mean failure to her parents. Anything less would be as good as not even trying. And all of her life up to this very point, that had keep her going; that was her only motivation. Shining, in her parents' eyes. Living up to their expectations. It was only last year that she started to feel amiss. She gave this matter plenty of thought, and it always boiled down to her parents. Yet, it was this last month that she had come to realization she was merely a vessel. The vessel was constructed upon what her parents had wished; the rest, the very core, was empty. And now that vessel that was so pleasant to behold, to admire, to appreciate, to envy, was finally showing a crack. A tiny crack that one wouldn't notice without closer inspection. Because as far as everyone was concerned, this was...

...another day. Another day. This is just another day.

She keep repeating those words inside her head as if to reassure herself. Her robotic, almost frantic pace eventually led her to a big set of windows where the sun shone through, hitting her in the face, and managing to break her mental trance.

Katrina stopped, and walked slowly towards the windows, peering down at the imagery that greeted her eyes. The Garden caved in below, and was decorated by greenery. A few trees sprout too, and the rest was stone tablets of narrow ways across the small backyard-like restroom that was primarily connected to the cafeteria.

One would expect a potentially peaceful place like that to be isolated from the rest of the noisy places in the Garden, amongst which the Cafeteria is one of the loudest, next to the combat rooms and non-reading classes. What a waste.

Her hand gently touched the cold glass, but her eyes were focused on the garden below. But right now it looks so...

"Katrina...?" A voice came from behind her.

It almost took her by surprise. She turned around and found a small, asian girl, with a pink and white sports attire, holding a notebook.

The asian girl smiled. "Sorry, your last name is sorta hard to pronounce. Is it..."

"Gorlukovich," Katrina dryly interjected. Not like it matters. Not like you care. Can we please move on to the subject at hand? Are you going to ask me for help on a particular topic? Do I know you? You are probably from one of my classes. Or not. It makes no difference. You want help, correct? Use me up like a study guide then move on with your life, only to return when it's convenient.

"Right, sorry," apologized the girl. "I was wondering if you could give me a hand..."

I knew it.

"...with this," she gestured her notebook.

I knew it.

"Me, and some of our classmates have been trying, but we decided to get someone who really knew about the subject..."

No. Leave me alone.

"...and we remembered you are one of the best..."

Alone. Go away.

"...in the class. Would you mind..."

Yes, I would.

"...giving us a hand?"

I am afraid just "a hand", my underachieved classmate, wouldn't help. And right now, I just don't feel like helping anyone. Right now I want to be left alone. Alone. "I apologize," said Katrina. "But right now I am feeling rather unwell. I hope you understand."

The asian girl face changed, worry evident. "Should I go with you to the infirmary?"

This isn't something you can cure with drugs or spells. No, it most certainly isn't. "I just need some rest," explained Katrina. "I will see you later, perhaps." With that, she went back to her room. Maybe her roommate would've left by now.