Restoring the Lion's Heart: Chapter 5

After the little intermission with the old headmaster named Cid, the squad along with instructor Quistis scuttled off to the parking lot ready to make leave for their SeeD exam. Well, this was it now – there was no turning back for Bartz and Zidane.

They drove off in a van equipped with a double-bench facing each other, where Bartz and Zidane sat together on one side while Seifer and Quistis sat opposite of them. The ride to their destination went on in silence. Bartz in particular was concentrating on staying as quiet and rigid as possible…which in result made him look more like a stiff board than anything else. As for Zidane, well he looked to be deep in thought, probably attempting to make out what they were going to do should they ever get outted before they could part from the school officially. The prospect and shame of being de-masked brought some visible traces of doubt in his downcast face.

"Scared already, eh chickenwuss?"

For god's sake. Inner turmoil suddenly all but forgotten, Zidane gave an exasperated groan before throwing one back. "Just, have some class for a minute and keep it shut," he paused, before spitting out his assaulter's name like it were venom to his tongue. "Seifer." In that brief moment of self-reflection he had completely forgotten about their wretched leader.

Perked at having been blatantly talked back at, Seifer unsurprisingly decided against the request and in turn, went to drag it on. "Hey now, that's no way to answer back to your leader."

"I don't care. So long as you keep being an ass, so will I."

"Well damn, since when did you grow a pretty sharp tongue of your own? Let's just hope your pathetic punches have stepped up just as quick.

Zidane reflexively arched an eyebrow at the last comment. Punches...?

Expecting a full-out verbal attack, Seifer was instead left with an unexpected quizzical expression from the blond. Mildly intrigued by the Zell imposter's curious reaction, he quipped on. "What's with the dumbass face? Did you suddenly forget brawling was your "thing"? And I use that loosely, since you really can't hit worth crap. That punch in the caf earlier was pitiful."

"Seifer! That's enough now!" Quistis yelled, attempting to bring the infantile banter to a halt.

Zidane however was not ready to let it go – Seifer's insufferable attitude was just the needed topping on his crap flavored ice-cream to finally set him off.

But Bartz seemed to have noticed his friend's blatant seething, who looked about ready to pop right through the roof of the van at any given minute – so in the hopes of putting to ease any sort of potential catastrophe that could embark in the vehicle, he nudged the fellow a little with his shoulder.

"C'mon Z he's not worth it," Bartz whispered discreetly to the pent up blonde.

What good of it, when Seifer always had to have his way. "What was that Squall?"

"Nothing." quickly answered Bartz.

"Sure as hell didn't look like nothing."

"…It was nothing about you, if that's what you're getting at?"

"Try me!" seifer

"I thought you said we should stay out of your face though."

At this point Quistis' patience had long run out – if she wanted to babysit she would have up signed up for the corresponding job long ago. "If none of you behave, we may as well have this car turn the other way and get you back to class! At the very least, can you pretend to act your age please?"

With a audible groan or grunt from each individual, all of them slumped in defeat and annoyance in their own corner. Seifer however, was the first to speak again.

"This sucks."

The rest of the ride was spent in a murderous silence, with Zidane in particular hoping the thick tension bloated with disdain would suffocate the life out of their pathetic excuse of a leader. Much to his dismay no star graced his wish to fulfillment. Of course, he thought, the Gods have a vendetta against me. Clearly to him it had nothing to do with the logic of things.

They had stopped by the harbor of Balamb, where they were to disembark in a vessel to their final destination, a little city by the name of Dollet, where their exam mission took place. The harbor itself was very soothing, giving way to a picturesque marine scenery. Bartz, momentarily captured by nature's charm, heavily breathed in a lump of the fresh air then exhaled – he was always more sensitive to earthly beauty. He suddenly thought of wandering out and about, enjoying the cool breeze and the birds' tunes of joy, together with Squall as his guide.

Squall.

And just like that he was brought back to reality. He couldn't help but frown as he remembered his friend's situation.

When they were all fully seated and ready in the vessel, it set off for sail. It seemed like since Quistis' intervention in the van, none of the boys had trusted themselves to speak civilly without sparking a bloodfest fight, so they opted just not to talk altogether and succumb to the tense silence which harbored all their mutual murderous thoughts of each other. It should be noted that the instructor made it a point to sit right in-between Seifer and Zidane, in the event any eventual quarrel should ignite, whereas Bartz was content with sitting by Zidane's side.

The strawberry blond woman was the first to say something since the ten minute disembark from Balamb. "…Shu, an official SeeD member, should be arriving any minute now to give you the briefing of the mission."

No one made a audible confirmation. A few nods from here and there was all that was offered.

At that, Quistis sighed. She was going to make a comment on not needing to keep quiet to behave, but instead shook her head. If them keeping silent restrained them from strangling each other then so be it. She was more than content with sticking with their own mutual solution, so long as she didn't have to clean any shed blood.

Eventually the said official SeeD member, Shu, made her way into the compartment. Quistis sat up, quickly taking a moment to brush out her creased skirt before saluting the other instructor. Having seen the action, and assuming it trained school formalities, both Bartz and Zidane thought it appropriate to do the same while Seifer, who had no respect for anyone but himself, found it fit to sit where he was. Legs comfortably crossed across a small center table without a care in the world.

Shu in return nodded then turned towards Quistis, paying no real mind to Seifer's comportment. "I take it these are our members of Squad B?"

Quistis simply gave an affirmative nod.

"Alright then! In that case, let's get down to business shall we?" Shu moved towards the front of the compartment where a large monitor was equipped. "I'll explain the current situation and mission. Our client for this mission is the Dollet Dukedom Parliament. A request for SeeD was made eighteen hours ago."

As she spoke, various schematics and diagrams suddenly flashed up on the monitor. "Dollet has been under attack by the Galbadian Army since about seventy-two hours ago. Forthy-nine hours into the battle, Dollet abandoned their position in the inner city. Currently, they have retreated into the nearby mountains and are reorganizing their troops. That's the current status. Now onto the mission objective." Shu took a moment for the slide to change. She then carried on, pointing at various corners of the monitor to illustrate her point. "According to our reports, the G-Army is mopping up the Dollet troops in the mountain region. We're to make a landing at Lapin Beach and eliminate the remaining G-Army within the city and liberate it A.S.A.P. Squad B, you are to secure the Central Square. Afterwards, SeeD members will intercept any G-Army forces trying to make their way into the city from the mountain region."

Then the slide stopped.

...?! Wow I seriously didn't get any of that. Bartz contemplated on whether asking such a basic question as 'that's great and all but what are we meant to do?' was out of character for Squall. Squall always tended to get everything right off the bat. Maybe he could say he hit his head as an excuse, and had trouble following?

Thankfully for him however Seifer got the basic of all basic questions covered: "So, what are we supposed to do exactly?"

"Well to eliminate those G-Army guys in the city." Zidane quipped, then paused momentarily. "Dumbass." The last pejorative jab slipped passed his mouth. He didn't see why he had to bother with decency restrains for Seifer, considering how he held little if any respect or decency towards anyone but his own self. I regret nothing!

Completely unsuspecting the gibe, least of all an answer from 'Zell', scandalized Seifer widened his eyes in complete disbelief, about ready to retaliate with pure aggression this time.

Quistis of course caught on to this, and was just as quick to make sure none of that was about to take place under her watch. "Seifer, don't." Her voice was firm and bold, her gesture quick and decisive. She had extended an arm as a way to barricade Seifer put into his seat.

"Yeah Seifer! You totally just got outsmarted by the chickenwuss." Zidane not caring much to help the situation, screamed towards Seifer and right over Quistis head.

"Zell!" yelled the exasperated instructor. "This goes for you too!"

"You're freaking DEAD twink, you are DEAD."

None of that phased Zidane however. As far as he was concerned, Seifer was all talk. "Guess that's what someone who's all brawn no brain would say…"

With the exception of Bartz – who was trying really hard to keep his giggles to himself – all the other present passengers called out to Zidane, in one way or the other, which basically all translated to:

"Quiet down Zell!"

Seifer's however was a lot more crude than that.

"Okay okay I'm shutting up."

Trying to regain the serious atmosphere as quickly as possible, Shu attempted to get back on track and pickup from the last question. "Now that we've all settled down….yes, Zell was correct. Essentially your goal is to eliminate the G-Army then secure the central square."

"Tchh," scoffed Seifer. "Either way, this whole shit sounds lame as hell. I want something more than just rookie work."

"Well Seifer, this is as good as you're going to get before you make it to SeeD. That said...the order to withdraw takes priority. Do not forget." Shu took a moment to check her watch. "We're no doubt reaching shore shortly, so be prepared for battle as soon as we disembark."

"And try not to kill each other either, please." an attempted hopeful plea from Quistis.

Which was just as good as futile. Seifer shrugged, casually responding with, "Can't promise that."

Zidane's answer wasn't any better. "And I can't be blamed for first-degree slaughter if the Seifer guy attempts to get at me first."

Well, at least she tried! Sighing in defeat, she turned to give Bartz one long, pleading look.

"...I'm counting on you, Squall."

Bartz simply offered her an uncertain look.

True enough to Shu's words not long after the briefing ended, the vessel carrying our Squad B reached Lapin Beach. The landing was quite the chaotic mess; there were several tanks already scattered around like abandoned toys on the shore, missiles and explosives detonated sending a number of soldiers off and away alongside the fireworks, while SeeD members, officials, soldiers alike were also rushing across the beach. While the mission seemed basic in itself, the situation looked as if a war were about to break loose.

Squad B had geared up and set off once they disembarked, cooly making their way down the city to accomplish their simple task of clearing any enemies in sight. Nothing Bartz and Zidane couldn't handle. Bartz was already familiar with the Gunblade so wielding it was practically second nature to him – a handy advantage, considering how Gunblade specialists were a rarity in Balamb, and better yet gunblades were generally deemed to be a difficult weapon to yield effectively. Zidane on the other hand...

While it was no real big issue, the little blond was a little too used to dishing out with a weapon whereas Zell liked to attack his opponents with his punches and kicks – a detail which, prior to taking Zell out, Zidane completely overlooked. It had never once crossed Zidane's mind that Zell would obviously have some sort of a weapon of choice. Fists just so happened to be his. Seifer's earlier mocking of the boy had actually proved to be resourceful since Zidane would have otherwise never guessed that Zell was a brawler.

Now while Zidane was no particular slouch with his fists, he wasn't exactly a heavy hitter either. He had his speed and agility to make up for the lack of damage with quick, rapid light punches. He was comfortably having his way on an intercepted enemy only to – in the process of finishing him off – have Seifer swoop in out of nowhere and take out the remaining prey with a swift strike.

"I had that!"

"Sure ya did," drawled Seifer, resting his blade on his shoulder. He looked down at the blonde arrogantly. "I was tired of watching your weak ass punch nothing away, we need to move out. You hit like a chick.

"I do not!"

"I think you'll find that you do...heh."

"I do not!"

"How about you settle this with a duel?"

Both Seifer and Zidane turned to stare at Bartz, who had suddenly spoken. It was the first of anything he had said since the trip to the docks.

"A duel?" tested Seifer.

"What? Like…now?" Zidane was next.

"Yeah, a duel. Right here and now. Loser shuts up for the rest of the mission, and if it's Seifer that loses then if he says anything that doesn't have to do with the mission, we're within our right to hit or pee on him."

Zidane eyed his friend curiously. "Have you kind of forgotten we're in the middle of completing an exam..."

But Bartz just waved his hand, as if in dismiss. He had a look of fatigue in his eyes. "Well whatever! I'm tired of having to listen to you two bicker like an old couple over nothing every second. You guys getting at each others throats verbally is just as much of a waste of time as a one-off duel that could potentially end this."

"You know what? That's not a bad idea Squall. If only because I wanna pummel the shit out of Zell."

Now Zidane turned to eye Seifer again, dangerously this time. "And I kinda wanna pass my exam, thanks very much. You know if you just stopped being an all around jackass we wouldn't be having any of this."

"So basically you're chickening-out."

"It's not chickening out, it's called getting one's priorities straight."

"Dress it up however you want, shit will still be shit; chickening will still be chickening-out."

"FINE, I'll do you one better: duel after the exam, loser not only can't talk but gets to be the other's personal slave. For the WEEK."

At that Bartz couldn't help but widen his eyes in alarm. "Um…."

Seifer, on the other hand, grinned mischievously. "You're on. Better get used to taking orders, twink."

As if on cue a series of scuttles were heard from up ahead, signaling a new troop of the G-Army heading their way in an attempt to take out the Squad B.

"Must be those Balamb kids. Let's show these rookies how things really get done."

"Roger that!"

The smell of action shifted Seifer's attention towards the troop. "Make it your best shot! Don't hold back on me!"

And with that, he charged towards the enemies, challenging straight into a battle alone.

As much as Bartz liked to hate on Seifer, he could at the very least admit the boy had skills for fighting. He was pretty dang good. So good, in fact, that neither Bartz nor Zidane felt the need to assist him in offing the troop, but that had more to do with the fact that the troops themselves just weren't strong at all, judging from what they had abolished already. Plus Seifer looked happy enough to deal with them on his lonesome.

So Bartz took the oppportunity to talk in secrecy with Zidane. "Uh hello? Squall? Ring? Any of that coming back to you?"

At first Zidane blinked, not sure what Bartz was getting at with that comment but then he figured he must have been referring to the stakes he had placed for the duel. Sure enough, being a slave for Seifer wouldn't leave much time if any at all to look about for the ring. "Don't worry, the duel won't even happen. I just won't be dressed up as the Zell guy."

"But…there's a real Zell. Who will come to, eventually! We can't just keep him hidden for a week!"

"Yeah well it was your idea."

"No, no it wasn't! My idea was meant to get either of you to shut up right now! Not to imply the real Zell!"

"Hey well Seifer shut up and he looks to be in a better mood so it still kinda worked?"

At that Bartz just gave up, huffing a little in defeat. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm tired and I kinda want to have this thing over and done with. You guys are wearing out my ears and patience."

"He's wearing me out too honestly."

Bartz paused a second. "…..Is this how Squall feels? When he's dealing with us? I like to think we're at least, you know…nicer? Funnier? Like we're not bitter like this Seifer guy…?"

Zidane blinked, musing over the question. He would like to hope so too, honestly. Because in the end, when Bartz and Zidane ever did anything, whether it was meaningless bickering or being obnoxiously jovial, it was out of love. And Squall never really seemed to mind it. Everything was just fun and games, they had been around each other long enough to all feel comfortable around each others presence and to know when the teasing or obnoxious behavior went overboard.

Seifer on the other hand was just a whole other story.

"You ladies coming or what? More soliders coming towards this street!" Speak of the devil...

Both Bartz and Zidane groaned, but – reluctantly – followed suite.

Seifer, Bartz and Zidane had spent the greater part of half-an-hour raiding the city clean of any vermin G-Soldiers. It really wasn't a feat at all, even with Bartz and Zidane's two-year break of battle which must have left them in a bit more of a rustier state than usual. While the adversaries of the exam didn't turn out to be the warm-up they were hoping for, at least it got them back into the groove of things.

Once they reached the central square of the Dollet city and cleared it, too, of the remaining soldiers, they followed the instructors orders and went on standby in the event of any immediate interception necessary at the central square. And so with that each squad member found themselves a position and got comfortable as they waited patiently: Seifer saw it fit to simply stand there, back of his sword hoslted onto his shoulder, Bartz was quick to dash right towards the impressive fountain which lay center piece of the square while Zidane plopped down on the floor cross legged.

It had been just a little over an hour since then, with nothing as particular entertainment, if other than the faint trickle of the fountain waters flowing and the soft breeze of the wind to cool their temper. A sudden stroke of a great clock clanged, marking the new hour, and a dog scuttled by. Bartz had the urge to play with it, if moreso to quench his boredom, but he did his best to pull back on his impulses and concentrate on waiting instead, like his comrades were doing. And waiting...and waiting.

...And waiting still.

A loud, bored yawn escaped Zidane. In the quest to find some ounce of entertainment he decided to get up and walk towards the center piece fountain. He stared a little at his reflection. And frowned. I look like crap, he mused to himself.

It hadn't been until Seifer suddenly broke out of his position and started furiously slashing at thin air did they remember his presence. Both Bartz and Zidane jerked up a little. It was a wonder how Seifer hand't taken out his boredom unto them (well, more so Zidane) yet. At the beginning of the wait Zidane had honestly been bracing himself for the potential jab of insults. "Arrgh! What the hell is going on?! I'm sick of this of shit! I hate being taken for a mug!"

Seifer continued to gravely slash in irritation. "Come out and deal with me, ya cowards!"

Bartz was just about to reflexively tell Seifer to shut up when, just at that moment, he noticed a few nearing shadows by the walls of a street where a series of cars were parked just a few ways from them. Curious, Bartz took cover behind the fountain to observe and gestured to his comrades to do the same.

True enough a squadron of Galbadian Soldiers eventually peeped out into view only to scuttle off down a side-street.

Zidane was the first to speak. "More of the G-Army, huh."

"But they're getting away!" interjected Bartz. "Shouldn't we deck them out?"

Seifer broke out of his crouching position, standing tall as he dragged his Gundblade up with him. "Yeah, for once I agree with– hey! I'm the one giving orders here!"

"I was just saying…"

"Yeah well quit trying to say anything, lest you want any help with that." It wasn't so much of a menacing tone as it was...almost a playful banter? As if it made allusion to the fact that Squall and Seifer actually had some sort of connection as opposed to Seifer just being an all-around tyrant with everybody, spewing out hate to whoever crossed his way. Bartz was a little taken aback by it.

Seifer had extended his arm to level the gunblade towards Bartz's throat, the tip only just tapping his shoulder. "I could always go for round two, you know. I wrecked ya pretty bad this morning, huh? That scar looks deep." Bartz actually didn't even notice right then and there that there was a gunblade just a few centimeters away from his throat as he was caught up in his internal musing – but that was up until when–

– something curiously shimmered at the corner of his eyes.

As Bartz registered the situation, gunblade point blank at him, he followed the line of the sword right from the tip, up the sides, up until the hilt then stared right where Seifer held his tight grip. Wound around gloved finger was an alliance.

An alliance which was familiar to him.

An alliance which shimmered a curious purple.

"?! What the hell?! Seifer where did you–"

"Hey leader, our enemies are heading out of secured perimeters." Zidane was at that point still observing to see if any additional enemies would show face. There had been couple others since the first sighting of the G-Army squadron.

At that comment, Seifer lowered his blade from Bartz and turned his attention back to the side-street, where the soldiers had headed out. "So what? We'll follow their asses towards where they're going."

Zidane wasn't sure where it was they could be possibly going but he noticed that upwards, there was a sort of facility far onwards into the mountainous distance. "What is that thing, anyway...?"

Seifer's answer was decided. "It's our next destination, that's what. If that's where the nest is then we're heading up there to finally get some long overdue action."

"Nuh uh! Instructor told us to stay here! And I don't want any penalties because of your dumb decisions."

Seifer simply scoffed. "Tchh, well it's your right to stay here and look like a loser I guess. As for me, I'm heading upwards." And with that, Seifer rushed onwards paying no real attention to whether if Bartz would follow heed.

"Whatever, let him go! Least we're rid of him, and we can pass the exam in peace then jet." Zidane turned towards Bartz, relieved to have a moment with his friend again only to be taken aback by Bartz's expression. "What's up with you?"

At that point Bartz was gaping like an idiot. Good enough that Seifer was too absorbed in his own thing to take notice of Bartz.

"Zidane! Seifer, he – he has Squall's ring!"

To be Continued...

A/N: It lives! I swear this project lives! In addition to this new chapter, I also ironed out the previous ones.

Thanks for the reviews guys! Especially the last 3 of 2012, (yllom21, randomlybrie and Oak-chan) I couldn't believe I got feedback of this fic even though the last update was over a year ago. While I had been gradually working on chapter 5 ever since then, those feedbacks were admittedly a motivational booster so – thank you. :)

Well, see you in the next chapter guys!