Chapter Text
He was back in the lobby and Ven could feel the imminent meltdown bubbling up. He had been certain he was actually where he was meant to be, but as he walked in circles around the building’s deceptively non-linear hallways, he forced himself to acknowledge all he was doing was wasting his time and re-tracing his steps. Unconsciously, one hand went to his hair, as if to hold his fraying mind together. He swore he’d read the map correctly. He swore he’d repeated, word-for-word, the directions Professor Eraqus had given him after class, including that the library has a unique and easily identifiable glass roof. He swore he had…
Ven walked up to the doors, squinted at the abbreviated marker, and tried not to flush under the combination of frustration and embarrassment that was spreading through him. He checked the key on his map to find his location. He swore.
At least this time he didn’t have a class to rush to, he thought to himself as he walked back through the lobby and out the front door. Or, what he presumed was the front door, since he might not even be able to figure that out. He brought both hands to the strap of his backpack and tugged it closer to him, wishing against all odds that when he lifted his gaze from the concrete he would see Aqua or Terra. Or, preferably, both. Yet the memories of their smiles and assurances, an unexpected source of comfort over the weeks, now only made him feel more helpless. Dependent. Lost. I can afford a setback now and then, he reminded himself. He didn’t believe it. And they weren’t there.
Then he did a double-take. If it hadn’t been for the scratching of pencil on paper, he wasn’t sure if he would have noticed the boy crouched by the entrance, half-hidden by an array of plants. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t succumbing to stress and hallucinating. It wasn’t that odd, he supposed, when he took in each individual component. The boy’s hair was messy, sure, but Ven knew he wasn’t one to talk. The small spread of a notebook, protractor, chart of circles, and a vague yet certainly electronic device were better suited for a tabletop than a concrete walkway, but Ven had done homework on the floor of the shelter when the other seats were taken. He didn’t know why the boy had decided to place himself so close to the potted dragon trees scattered across the college. Maybe he needed the extra oxygen for whatever it was he scribbling so intently about.
“Uh…” The boy gave no sign of having heard. Ven looked at the crumpled map in his hand and tried again. “Hey, can I ask you for some help?”
“Yes.”
Ven sighed in relief. “Thanks. I’m a little lost, and these maps don’t have street names or routes between buildings. I was wondering if you could…” He trailed off when the boy gave no sign of listening, though he did reach out to the electronic device and, judging by the short beep, turned it on. Ven shuffled his feet. “Is this a bad time? You don’t have to help if you’re busy.”
“You didn’t ask if I would help you, only if you could ask me.”
Ven wished he could be irritated, but something in the boy’s voice only encouraged the shame he already felt. The boy didn’t sound angry or upset, just disinterested and factual. He hadn’t judged him, just simply pointed out another way Ven failed to be adequate, even if it was juvenile and nitpicky.
Ven tried again. “Right…so, will you help me?”
“If it doesn’t take too much time. I’m rather busy.”
He did allow himself an eyeroll. “Do you know where Library Two is?”
“Yes.”
After ten seconds, Ven asked, “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Are you going to help me?”
“I answered your question, did I not?”
“Wha—are you kidding?” The boy didn’t respond. He flipped back a page to examine old writing. “Okay, okay, fine.” Ven took a deep breath, though he wasn’t sure if it was to keep himself from crying or snapping. “Would you please give me directions to Library Two? From where we are,” he added hurriedly when the boy lifted his gaze.
His eyes betrayed no emotion, and Ven felt even more vulnerable than before under his gaze. Suddenly, he was thankful for the boy’s messy bangs for providing some form of protection between them. Ven had learned in an introductory psychology course that standing over someone instilled a sense of power, but even with the boy kneeling in the dirt, all Ven could think that was that he was the one who had further to fall.
The boy only appraised him for another moment before saying, “Follow this path, take a right at the azalea, then another right when you can see the road to the Student Affairs office. Take a left at the duck pond, the next right by the cherry blossom tree, though naturally it’s not in bloom, cross the field towards the building that looks like a hexagon, and…” He stared at Ventus and Ven stared back, expressions both blank. But while the boy was veiled by hair and mystery, Ven felt raw, defenseless, and empty of what little cognitive power he had left.
The boy glanced at his watch then asked if Ven had a map. Ven handed it over, trying not to take offense when the boy smoothed out the now-permanent wrinkles to the best of his ability before taking out a pen to draw a single series of lines. “Do you know where Blizzard’s is? The ice skating rink? Good, that’s here—” he circled a point on the map, “—so this should be straightforward.”
The map didn’t have many non-college owned landmarks on it, and Ven felt any frustration towards the boy drain away at the new information. “Thanks,” he said, taking the map back. “I owe you one. I’m Ven, by the way.” The boy nodded, once again focused on his work as if nothing had transpired. “Do you go to school here? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”
“You probably haven’t.”
“Oh.” Ven resisted the urge to scratch his head and glanced around. “What’s your name?”
“Ienzo.”
“Ienzo, huh? Do you always do your homework on the ground?”
“No.” Ven opened his mouth to say more, but Ienzo abruptly added, “This isn’t homework.”
“Then, what is it?”
“Science.”
“…science?”
“Physics. Optics, if we’re going to be specific. Now as I’ve told you, I’m rather busy. I need to focus.”
“Are you doing some kind of experiment?”
“I wouldn’t call it an experiment.”
“Oh. You know, I’ve never really seen any sort of science…thing in real life. Aside from some baking soda volcanoes. Can I stay and watch?”
“I’d prefer if you didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to focus and people are distracting.”
“Sounds like you could use a library, too.” Ienzo paused to give him a decidedly not blank look, and Ven grinned. “I’ll be quiet.”
“…Fine.” Ienzo scooted so he was closer to the plants but propped his upper body on the stone handrail of the front door steps, balancing his equipment on it. He gestured and Ven, map forgotten in his hands, joined him. He looked over Ienzo’s shoulder at his notebook. The sheer amount of equations alone made his head spin, and a closer look earned a low, impressed whistle. Ienzo gave him a painstakingly impatient glance and Ven mouthed an apology.
He watched as Ienzo double-checked his notes and peered into the lobby, tapping on the device that was beginning to bear resemblance to some hand-held videogame consoles Ven had seen other kids playing on. Ienzo fiddled with the controls, though as Ven watched him work, he began to suspect that “fiddling” was likely a verb that Ienzo never took part in.
Curiosity and the compulsion for friendliness took over, so Ven asked, “So, what year are you?”
“A senior.”
“Really?” Ven leaned forward as Ienzo continued staring into the lobby. “No offense, but you look young.”
“I look my age.”
Realization dawned. “Oh, got it. So are you taking part-time courses, then, like me?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Ven shifted, then asked, “Why are you—”
“I’m helping out a friend.” While technically an answer, Ven couldn’t say it made much sense. But the mystery of Ienzo was more compelling than the chore of trying to find his way to the library, so Ven contented himself to stay. “I don’t recall seeing you in Radiant Garden High.”
Ven jumped, glad Ienzo was too preoccupied to see it. “I live in Twilight Town and go to high school there. I just commute here for two classes.” He wriggled his foot to keep it from tingling. “But I think I’ll be able to go here full-time next school year.”
“Will you still commute?”
“I don’t know. It’d be nice to be here and actually be a part of campus life, but room and board in Radiant Garden is a lot higher than in Twilight Town, so…” He suddenly felt nervous, the familiar feeling of being imposing trickling in despite reminding himself that Ienzo was continuing the conversation.
“Do you have a pair of sunglasses?”
The non-sequitur caught Ven off-guard as much as Ienzo’s last question. “No.” Ienzo reached into his bag without looking and handed a pair to him. “Thanks, but…aren’t these against school policy?” Ienzo shook his head, as if to marvel at Ven’s rule-abiding nature, and slipped a pair on himself. “What exactly are you planning on doing?”
“Hold this.” Ienzo thrust an already uncapped and powered up camcorder into Ven’s hand. “Don’t drop it. Make sure you’re filming directly into the lobby. Hit the red button when I tell you to.”
Ven complied, not certain in his decision to do so but too curious to care. It’s not like it could be that bad if it was a science experiment. So he situated himself and got Ienzo’s brief approval of the angle and position, then waited. He felt exposed but Ienzo told him it was inconsequential.
“Record.” Ven pressed the button and saw the red dot begin to blink. After a minute had gone by with no other change, Ven opened his mouth to ask Ienzo a question that slipped his mind the second the auditorium doors opened.
Faculty members flooded into the lobby. Ven tensed, feeling entirely conspicuous despite Ienzo’s flat assurance that no longer felt assuring. The crowd swelled as more adults exited and conversed with one another, anxious to be out of the meeting but stalling in their return to their offices and classrooms. Ven turned to look at Ienzo just in time to see him press a down directional key.
Screams tore Ven’s gaze back to the lobby and he yelped, more out of surprise than pain. Quickly, trying not to shake the camera too much, he fumbled through unfolding the sunglasses and shoving them onto his face before looking back through the glass. What was, seconds ago, a well-lit lobby was now a prism of impossibly white light. There wasn’t an adult who didn’t have a hand, or hat, or book, or folder, or other object shielding their eyes and, from what Ven could see and hear, there wasn’t a one who wasn’t shouting.
His heart told him to go, whether it was to leave the scene or to go into the building to try to do something. Instead, he found himself scanning the room through his sunglasses to try and figure out how so much could go so wrong in such a sort amount of time.
He was still staring dumbly when Ienzo calmly worked his fingers loose from the camcorder, turned it off, replaced the cap, tucked it away, and strolled off with nothing more than a, “Didn’t you have to get to the library?” By the time Ven registered the words, Ienzo was gone.
“Holy shit!” Yuffie threw her head back and howled with laughter, even as the rest of her tried to double-over. She almost propelled herself off the bench. Ienzo kept his hold on the camcorder steady and smiled as she righted herself to continue watching. Despite occupying a bench in one of the many city parks, she made no effort to hide her delight or stifle her laughter as she watched her teachers stumble through the lobby, grasping for a landmark to guide them out of what was now ground zero of Ienzo’s optical assault.
A handful of faculty came rushing out of the auditorium, doubtless to respond to their colleague’s cries, only to meet their shared fate. Ienzo almost felt bad when he saw Professor Trepe in their midst, but what little he knew about her was proved accurate when she was the first to make it back to the auditorium, shoving whoever was in her way towards safety and barring the doors behind her.
Given how little time he felt safe recording, Ienzo thought the footage was surprisingly action-packed. Yuffie said, and he silently agreed, that she wished he could have stuck around longer so they could know how the rest of the event played out. “There’s already a school-wide assembly planned for Friday,” she told him when she could breathe again, sometime after their fourth watch-through. “And most of the three-twenty classes were canceled because of this.”
Ienzo smirked. “You’re welcome.”
Yuffie insisted on watching the video again when they reached the only ice-cream stand open in March. “Fine, but I’ve had my fill for the time being. What would you like?”
“Huh? Oh, no way. This is my treat.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Ienzo protested, even as Yuffie began digging through her pockets for bills.
“Nu-uh. Consider it compensation for the risk factor. After all, you were the one most likely to get caught.”
“But I wasn’t the one who risked bodily harm installing the mirrors so close to the ceiling.”
“Well I wasn’t the one who fronted most of this operation.”
Ienzo shrugged. “I get an allowance, you know.”
“And I have a job. So there.” She punctuated her argument by sticking her tongue out and Ienzo relented a gracious swing of his arm and slight bow at the waist. She didn’t even ask before she ran up to the stand and declared, “One Sea-Salt and one Sugary Skies, please!” While she bounced on the balls of her feet at the counter, Ienzo leaned against a bench and rewound the video. He held it for her as she ate her considerably messier ice cream and reveled in their victory.
“Well, if nothing else, I’d say we won the battle. Hopefully the meeting on Friday will be to discuss policy reform.”
“Gawd, they better. This whole ‘no-sunglasses inside’ rule is such bullshit.”
“It’s so kids will stop showing up to class high.”
“We all know that, Mr. Young,” Yuffie called back to the man at the stand. He rolled his eyes. “And if they had just told us that, we’d be all like, ‘Hey, no big deal, it’s cool, thanks for, y’know, treating us like adults and all that.’ But instead they just start going on about how it’s ‘disrespectful’ and ‘weird’ and ‘inappropriate.’ Like, we’re in college for crying out loud! We’ve all gone through BS 101 and Intro to Rebelling Against Authority.” Mr. Young waved his hand dismissively and Yuffie turned to Ienzo with a huff. “By the way, who filmed this?”
“A part-time high school student. He said his name was Ven.”
“Huh. Doesn’t ring a bell. Is he trustworthy?”
“I don’t think he’ll turn us in. From how he was behaving, he has enough on his plate without messing with us.” Yuffie chewed the inside of her mouth but said nothing, worried by principle but trusting Ienzo’s judgment. She took the camcorder when he passed it to her and began digging through his pockets.
“Whatcha doing?”
“I need to get going. I’m just getting one for my dad.”
“Why? It’s just gonna melt by the time you get back.” Ienzo considered this, then nodded his concession and the two departed. Ienzo kept one hand inside his coat pocket, questioning their decision to get ice cream. It was tradition, but also quite inappropriate given the weather.
Then again, it was Yuffie’s unstated but time-proven dogma to be multiple types of inappropriate, including dressing properly for weather if her ever-present shorts were anything to go off of.
Yuffie purposefully stepped erratically over the cobblestones, trying to avoid the cracks and target specific stones simply because she should. Ienzo walked steadily and watched her clear a snowmound and land on her toes on the brick of her choosing. He tried not to laugh, the sight bringing back a memory of what was, objectively, a terrible response to an insensitive remark Yuffie made when they were younger. It only took several words to break Yuffie’s know-it-all confidence when she had warned him, at the wise age of twelve years old, of what would happened to his mother if he stepped on a crack. To this day, Ienzo had yet to see anyone match her expression of unadulterated mortification.
“You want some?” she asked, offering her half-eaten ice-cream out to him.
“No, thank you,” he said, still fighting back a smile. Yuffie shrugged and took another bite, then asked what he was laughing at. “I’m just thinking it’s nice to be familiar with the RGU campus. If I go next year, it will save me some time getting oriented.”
“For real. Wait, ‘if’ you go?”
“…Yes?”
“’If.’ As in, you’re not sure.”
“I’m keeping my possibilities open.”
Yuffie snorted. “For what?”
“There are other colleges out there—”
“Like what?”
Ienzo took another bite of ice cream so he didn’t take one out of her for her interruptions before answering. “Daybreak University. Balamb Garden University. Twilight Town Community College is actually quite good, and their transfer program to RGU is excellent.” He realized Yuffie had stopped and was giving him an incredulous, and quite judgmental, look. “What? They’re good schools.”
“Uh, yeah, but…why?”
“Why what, Yuffie?”
“Why even bother checking any of them out?” She counted on the fingers of her free hand. “Why bother with TTCC and then a transfer when you could just, I don’t know, go to RGU in the first place?”
Ienzo shrugged. “It’s more affordable.”
“Oh, yeah, ‘cause that’s an issue. And like you won’t be offered like, a billion scholarships. And the other ones just…”
“Daybreak has as many strong programs as RGU does,” Ienzo informed her. “And BGU has a renowned foreign exchange program.”
“Do you want to do a foreign exchange?”
“…Possibly.”
“You’re applying to a school a couple hundred miles away because you might want to do a foreign exchange program? RGU has a good one, too.”
Ienzo exhaled noisily. “Why are you getting so worked up?”
“I’m not! It’s just…I dunno, it seems weird to me. You don’t seem like the kind of person who wants to be that far away from home. Daybreak and Balamb take days to get to unless you fly. And no offense, but I can’t see you or your dad getting through an airport without an incident.”
“We can’t.”
“See?”
“I’m not saying it’s a definite, just that it might be a good idea to expand my—”
“Is your dad talking you into this?”
Ienzo wiped his thumb over a drop of melted ice-cream on the bottom of his stick while Yuffie waited. “No. He’s just supportive of the idea.”
She sighed, sticking one hand in her pocket and glancing at the ground. Specks of Sugary Skies melted onto the stone and into the snow. “Sorry. I’m not tryin’ to like, make you feel bad or make fun of you. I just never thought you’d want to leave. Radiant Garden’s your home.”
“Says the transplant from Wutai.”
“Puh-lease.” She started walking again, a casual stroll emphasized by the thumb she looped into her belt. “That was years ago and I wouldn’t even remember it if we didn’t go back to visit each summer.”
“But you miss it.”
“Sort of.” Yuffie tipped the waffle cone back so she could drink the now-melted remains. “It feels less and less like a place I could call home each time I go. The tourism industry has really changed it.”
“You realize Radiant Garden and Twilight Town have the highest rate of tourism in this region, right?”
“Yeah, but it was sort of set up that way, you know? And Twilight Town is really good about promoting local business and keeping the small-town vibe. Wutai just kind of…got really hokey. Anyways,” she said, squinting one eye to examine the innards of her cone. “You’ve still got a year to figure it out, and you don’t even have to go to college right away.”
“I want to. It’s too bad your gap-year didn’t work out, though.”
“Eh, it’s not so bad. Operation: Tattoo Parlor is still underway. Aerith’s been helping me with a lot of it in her free time. Oh, speaking of, can I run a few names by you?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, so I’m a bit torn between a few. I really like Twin Viper—” Ienzo coughed. “—Because people still go for the edgy scene, but I’m not sure if it would fit with most of my styles. Rising Sun sounds a bit too cliché, and I’m not sure if too many people would get what an Oritsuru is, but—”
“Write it down and I’ll look them over,” Ienzo told her when they reached the trolley stop. “And please try to make it legible.”
“Screw you.”
“I’m not sure how you expect to be a tattoo artist when you can’t even write a readable sentence.”
He didn’t understand the Japanese that came out of her mouth, but she’d said it enough times he was beginning to get the gist. As the trolley came into view, she asked, “Hey, do you need your camcorder back?”
“Keep it for now. You should watch it a couple hundred more times to get your fill.”
“Roger that! I’ll drop it off later. Are you free on Saturday?” He shook his head. “Oh, lunch with your grandfather? Alright, um…how about Sunday?”
“Why not Friday after school?”
“Hilarious,” she complimented with as much sarcasm as she could fit into four syllables. “Not everyone spends their Friday nights curled up with chamomile-lavender tea and watching the Discovery Channel,” she told him as he boarded the trolley.
“They had a program on the history of table salt last week.”
“Nerd.”
“Enjoy your sugar crash in a few hours.”
“I will!” Yuffie held out her empty waffle cone and Ienzo tapped his now barren popsicle stick against it. She beamed. “See ya!”
“Bye.” As the trolley lurched forward, Ienzo watched Yuffie throw her cone into a garbage can across the street, throw her fists into the air in a show of victory, and by the time he rounded the corner she was sprinting away, camcorder held firmly in hand.
His phone buzzed but Ienzo let it sit, preferring to wait until he was in the safe confines of his own room before he dared open it. He pressed “Play” the video Yuffie sent him and wondered how a future tattoo artist could have such shaky hands. The video showed the Grand Hall, packed to the brim with RGU students, staff, and faculty, with a panel on stage. Despite the murmurs next to Yuffie, the sound from the stage carried well and soon Ienzo was sharing Yuffie’s pain as one of the Deans carried on a trite and long-winded explanation of why what happened was inexcusable, inappropriate, and how he was disappointed in each and every one of them.
He rolled his eyes and only decided to watch the rest of the video out of loyalty. By the end he was curled up on side, trying not to laugh and alert Even of the suspicious sound while one of the professors interrupted the Dean, grabbed the microphone from his hands, and promised to not only find out exactly who did it and why, but to find a way to personally punish them for their disrespect.
The meeting, and thus recording, ended shortly after, so after watching two more times, he sent her a text. I think we may have started a war.
Five minutes later, his phone notified him to her reply.
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