Unfortunately for SQUALL, there was no solace in the silence he sought by isolating himself. The thick blankets of his bed worked closer to a straitjacket than comforters. He’d hoped to find peace away from everyone, but his fears were never something he could escape. Being alone simply invited them into a more intimate space: his mind.
 
Now as Commander of the Garden, Squall responsibilities tripled in size, adding weight to already dire circumstances. Being a lone mercenary his entire life, he’d grown accustomed to being alone and only looking out for himself. It was…easier that way. By never letting anyone in, he never ran the risk of losing them. Years of hardened conditioning to wall his heart off had turned it cold, with brisk snowflakes drifting from his very shoulder, but now things were different.

He couldn’t look out solely for himself anymore. He was Commander. His every move was eyed and modeled for every student from then on. It was an insurmountable sense of duty that he never asked for. Cid thrust it upon him. How was that fair? How was he supposed to be the model for everyone to follow?

There was a truth he was only brave enough to admit once. To Rinoa. To tell you the truth... I worry too much about what others think of me. I hate that side of me… But Rinoa wasn’t there anymore. He was alone. There were no monsters to slay, no sorceresses to stop and no amount of training could prepare him for this fight…
 
His head thumped like a behemoth being confined to a finite area, thrashing about hoping to break free so that he may leave his emotions at bay. His vision blurred as red veins corrupted his eyes, threatening to flood his face and leave him drowning. Again.

It was too much. All too much. What if he did the wrong thing? What if he failed? What if he couldn’t save anyone? What if that same feeling he fought his whole life was now a curse he doomed everyone around him? What if the person he couldn’t save was their brother or…

“Sis”.

It must be; that was the only explanation. She left because of him… He had to be strong. He was alone his whole life. Even in the orphanage from where he was raised, he wasn’t like anyone else. He hoped that, maybe, since he lost his family, too, that he could…
 
Squall’s breathing had become erratic, breaths were forced to flee through gritted teeth as he gripped his head hoping to soothe the oncoming migraine. Holding back anything was a fantasy he’d been slapped awake from. There were no cool battle scars to speak of. There were no mere-misses in the heat of battle. There were no speeches to remember and no dead to mourn. This was real.

THIS is what being a SeeD meant.

Tears, sweat, saliva — all smeared on his face. The mighty “Commander”.

He was disgusting.

Pathetic.
 
There was no escaping this. It had become routine to expect it, but, also, to never know where his thoughts would take him. He wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t strong enough. He cried. He was lonely. He wasn’t worth it…

That must be true, right? Why else was he in an orphanage? Countless nights he would go to sleep shivering with only his tears to keep him harm, forever contemplating what happened to his family. Everyone else knew. He assumed his were the same; it just made the nightmares more tolerable…

The truth was not so kind.

His father wasn’t dead. He saw him. He stood on the very same floor, in the same room — breathed the same air. His father was alive. In the moment, Squall couldn’t process it; self-preservation by means of mental blocking had become second nature to him. However, after enduring Ultimecia’s TIME COMPRESSION, he’d suffered every memory he’d ever experienced and would experience. Time blitzed by and froze all the same; this moment with his father would forever be etched in his mind.

Was he sad? Was he remorseful? Apologetic? Sorry in the slightest he abandoned his only son in an orphanage? Would all of those lonely nights finally be worth it with an embrace from his father to look at him — to finally see him — and tell him how proud of him he was?

no.

No…

He was none of these things. Quite the opposite.

He was happy. He couldn’t have been better. There wasn’t a thing on Earth that would’ve dented his smile. Squall and all his moments of weakness, of holding out for a place to belong with his family — the darkness that was born in its absence to conjure the side of him that forever clawed at his soul — meant…

Nothing.

nothing.
 
Squall wasn’t some noble warrior. He was not SeeD. He was not a Commander. He was not an example to follow. He was not any of these things. No one had ever looked at him to know him for who — or what — he really was.

And how could they? He didn’t even know who he was…

He just wanted it to stop…

The waters kept rising, he flailed harder hoping to stay afloat —
 
Then, a warmth coddled him. He started to feel the crashing waves start to slow their tantrums. He couldn’t look to see what it was that was helping him, he was too heavy to look up.

So, she did it for him.

Cassandra. Matching his drenched, steel-blue eyes with the dancing cinder that eclipsed her gold ones, Squall, after many hard, labored breaths was able to place himself back in his room. He was still sitting up on his bed, feet planted securely to his floor — hoping that would anchor him — but now he had her one arm coiled around his nape while her free-hand held his chin up to look at her. She took his immediate space in front of him; he was unable to see anything else even if he had the strength to.

Then, she would lead him out of the water.

“I see you.” She said with a slight nod, one he tried to mirror but only wound up jittering before collapsing into her midsection’s embrace, preparing for the next wave.

Yes, she would lead him to shore…but for now, she’d wade in the waters with him.

𝙻𝙴𝙾𝙽𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙻𝙴𝚂𝚂.