Moving In

“How has the sentence been going?” Irvine asked, tossing a dart at the board in the back of Belhelmel’s Blood, the hottest nightspot in town. During the weekends, Zell and Seifer were allowed to leave their dorms to pursue whatever pastime they desired. Otherwise, confined to their rooms when not studying or on a mission, time had dragged by slowly. Zell was thankful for the dingy little back room, the dartboard, and Irvine’s company as he watched the cowboy toss darts. “I haven’t heard a peep about it yet. I figured that either means you haven’t killed him, or they haven’t found the body.”

“I can’t kill him if I never SEE him,” Zell answered, stepping up to the line on the floor and waiting for Irvine to clear out the darts. “Whenever I wake up, he’s gone. And whenever I get back to the dorm, he’s asleep. He’s always either sleeping or off someplace, and I don’t know where he’s going that he’s not getting in trouble with the Headmaster!” Zell growled, having missed the bull’s-eye each time compared to Irvine’s perfect throws.

“The only place he *could* be going is to train, or do homework or something, and it couldn’t be homework. Or a mission.”

“So he must be training,” Zell said thoughtfully, clearing his darts from the board. “But what could he be doing?” He chewed his lip, thinking guiltily of how weak Seifer’s attacks had been. “Toughening up?”

“It would explain why he’s sleeping all the time,” Irvine answered, tossing his darts with an air of indifference and the accuracy of a practiced individual. “Has he been covered in bruises? Or scratches?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean anything. He’s stocked so full of magic all the time-“

“I thought that Cid took all of your most powerful magic?” Irvine said as he tried to pull one of the black and blue darts from its hole, nearly losing the tip into the rubber.

“He did, but I don’t think that means Seifer doesn’t have *any*.” Zell twirled a dart in his hands, wondering vaguely why he was playing darts against a famous sharpshooter. “Haven’t you noticed? It’s like, like… the air around him is just…” He made a confused motion with his hands, gesturing importantly with the dart before throwing it.

“Filled with magic. Yeah, I noticed.” Irvine took off his hat and scratched his head. “I wonder why that is. I mean, I’m not around Squall a lot, but he doesn’t seem to have the same thing going on.”

“I bet that’s just because Squall’s not a show off,” Zell all but growled. “I bet he has just as much at his disposal, he just doesn’t use it.”

“…Seems like Seifer’s been using nothing *but* magic lately.” There was a hint of some secret knowledge in Irvine’s voice, and Zell perked up, clearing the dartboard so he wouldn’t have to face Irvine while he spoke.

“Sounds like you know something, Irvine.”

“I can’t say I *know* something,” he answered. “It just seems a little strange. He used to be awful proud of Hyperion, and what he could do with it. Doesn’t sound like him to stop swingin’.” Zell narrowed his eyes as he walked back to where Irvine was standing. “Unless he had a reason.”

“Maybe he just thinks he’s too good to use his weapon. Like it’s not good enough for any of us.”

“Then why did he use it when you got in that fight in the hallway?”

“…He must’ve realized what an opponent I was! And he didn’t want to-“

“Come off it, Zell,” Irvine said as he threw his final dart with the same unerring precision. “He’s never treated you as a threat.”

“Well… maybe he remember how he felt last time we fought! He didn’t exactly win.”

“And *you* didn’t exactly fight him one-on-one, Zell,” Irvine said almost indignantly. “Squall and I were there, too. Or did you forget that?” Zell didn’t rise to the bait; instead, he cleared his throat and looked at the floor, waiting for Irvine to finish taking his darts down.

“I don’t know…”

“Maybe it’s not that he’s too strong,” Irvine said, trailing off and watching as Zell’s dart missed the board and punctured the already marked plaster- his most pathetic throw yet. Zell stopped and turned to face him.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Nothin’,” Irvine answered. “So did you try that cake Selphie made last week…?”


Zell returned to the dorm that night and found Seifer asleep, as usual. He walked into the room quietly, though he had found out earlier in the week that no matter how loud he was, Seifer was unlikely to budge. He crept to Seifer’s bed, and though his arm was thrown over his face while he slept, Zell peered around it to see if there were any bruises or scrapes. When he didn’t spot a single injury, he checked the other parts of Seifer’s body where his clothes weren’t covering him (because he always seemed to sleep in the clothes he wore during the day). Still nothing appeared, and Zell gave up, deciding it didn’t matter whether he found anything or not; Seifer had access to magic, he was certain, so whatever may have been put there earlier in the evening didn’t necessarily have to be there now.

Zell lay down on his bed and closed his eyes, wondering where Seifer spent his time. He considered a simple Scan spell (which he hadn’t lost to Cid earlier in the week, as they were known to be “harmless” spells) but didn’t think it would turn up the sort of information he wanted. Instead he decided he was going to have to wait and find out some other way.

He turned his thoughts to Squall, wondering why he hadn’t seen the Commander lately. Usually, Zell ran into Squall in the halls at some point, if not during the week then definitely on weekends. Sometimes, Squall would sit with him at the Cafeteria and they would talk (or Zell would), but none of this had happened lately. He worried if Squall had finally decided that he didn’t have a need for Zell, now that he had Seifer to talk to and to keep him company. He shook that off as nervous delusion- ‘Squall wouldn’t do something like that,’ he thought. But after a few more minutes of lying awake in bed, he had convinced himself that was the only thing that could have happened.

He looked over at his sleeping dorm mate and figured that Seifer was probably seeing a lot of him, either way. They were best friends now- practically inseparable. That was probably where Seifer had gone every single day. He was leaving to talk to Squall, to keep Squall company. If Squall was lonely, and Cid had noticed it, he might lift the ban to say, ‘to only leave the room to train, leave on missions, or assist the Commander’. In fact, Zell was certain that was what had happened. Squall didn’t need Zell anymore because Seifer was back.

He felt a murderous jealousy rise within him until he seriously considered beating Seifer’s prone form with a pillow. However, he knew that if he did he would only get into another fight, and he didn’t doubt that whatever corrective action Cid decided to take after that would be absolutely terrifying. So instead he smothered his rage and rolled over, the light off, and made himself fall asleep.

Before he could commit murder.

***
It’s not coming along quite as I would’ve liked, but at least it’s moving. Hopefully I’ll be able to add on soon. Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!

-Still loving this whole jealousy thing.-


Lion