The zipper on Squall's jacket is broken, the pull stuck about a quarter of the way up, snagged on crooked teeth, perhaps, but he refuses to fix it. It gives him an excuse to avoid eye contact in idle conversations, an excuse to not see Rinoa wince as Dr. Odine slaps another bangle on her wrist, stronger this time because she recently turned a stretch of Centra beach into glass. But the futile movement—up three teeth, down three teeth, up three teeth, down—does not give him an excuse to forget that this is all his fault.
"Hey, man, she's a civilian," Zell had whispered to him on the Forest Owls' train, what seemed like a lifetime ago. "She hasn't had the proper training to handle a GF."
"She wants to fight," Squall replied, nodding at Selphie to prepare to transfer her junctions, "and this is the only way we can guarantee her safety in battle."
"She might not be very useful for a while, though," Selphie said. "GFs take a bit of getting used to."
"Yeah, what Selphie said!" Zell gestured wildly. "Plus, they hurt like hell when you first junction them!"
Squall shrugged. "She's said she'll do anything it takes to win Timber's independence."
"But—"
"This is Rinoa's decision. What right do we have to object?" Before Zell or Selphie could reply, Squall called Rinoa over and explained the basics of junctioning. He cautioned her about the pain and disorientation, but Rinoa only set her lips into a firm line and nodded. Casting him a dubious glance, Selphie stepped forward and pressed her fingers to Rinoa's forehead. Rinoa's shoulders spasmed as Selphie's GFs and spells flooded into her mind, but she gave only the slightest whimper of discomfort.
"See, I can handle it," she said when the transfer was complete.
"You don't feel weird or anything?" Selphie asked. "Weak? Confused?"
Rinoa shook her head. "Not at all. In fact, I feel more powerful than ever. I feel like I could take on the entire Galbadian army by myself!"
"You're not going to," Squall said, moving toward the door. "You're going to stick with us, no matter what, got that?"
"Got it! And…thanks, Squall. For letting me fight. It means more than you think."
Rinoa's adaptation to GFs and magic meant much more than he thought, as well. When he saw her dispatch a soldier with a Death-junctioned attack, a shiver ran down his spine; when she took out another one with an expertly aimed Fire spell, he feared he'd made an irrevocable decision.
A decision that haunts him even now, in the sterile halls of Odine's laboratory, in the blisters on his hands from Rinoa's last training session gone awry, in the scorch mark on his cheek from her last kiss. Maybe she'd always had this sort of power, the receptivity to sorceress succession, locked away inside her. But he was the one who gave her the GFs that opened the floodgates, he was the one who led her straight into Ultimecia's sights. If he had said no that day on the train, where would she be now? Who would she be?
She might be back in Timber, out of his life for good, but she'd also still be just a plucky freedom fighter in over her head. No spells, no powers, no magical legacy burning through her body, erupting from her skin in the form of ephemeral wings.
No glass beaches. No searing kiss.
* * *
"She never should have been there," Quistis said, leaning against the doorway of the infirmary, arms crossed, looking at a comatose Rinoa.
"She followed us in," Squall replied, not raising his head.
"You could have sent her back out."
"So could anyone else! I had bigger things on my mind at the time. What were you all doing? What about Irvine? What about Zell?" Squall pounded his fists on the bed. "What about you?"
"I was fighting. Doing my job."
"So was I. Look, I know you don't like her, but you could've—"
"Who said I don't like her?" Quistis entered the room and gave Rinoa's foot an affectionate squeeze. "She frustrates me, sometimes, just like you do. But you don't know how many conversations we've had, how many times she's come to me or Selphie or even Zell with questions and concerns because you can't be bothered to listen."
"I listen."
"To whom? To her, or to who you think she is?"
Squall groaned and turned to face the window. "She wanted to fight. Who am I to tell her she can't?"
Behind him, he heard Quistis sigh. "The person who was supposed to protect her."
* * *
The tests are complete. Rinoa slumps in the chair, but manages to turn her head to smile at him and give him a thumbs-up. Apparently, Odine found the right dosage again.
These adjustments are becoming more frequent, though. Rinoa leaches the energy from the stones designed to suppress her powers at an alarming rate, and when she removes the bangle to practice her spells, the results are inconsistent. One moment, she can hardly light a match with her magic; the next, she engulfs a stretch of coastline with it.
What if they had been in Balamb, Squall wondered at the time. How many people could she have hurt? How many could she have killed?
It had reached a point where Rinoa elected to leave Angelo in the care of Selphie or Quistis during her trips to Centra, aware that she might unwittingly place her beloved dog in danger, aware that her powers were growing out of her control. Still, she never blamed Squall for any of it. Instead, she thanked him for staying by her side, thanked him for believing in her when others didn't.
"You know," she says, once they are out of Odine's laboratory, staring at Esthar's Presidential Palace rising before them, "Odine's tests hurt a lot, but watching him get flustered almost makes up for it. He's having a hard time finding strong enough stones for me, and I think it's driving him nuts." She giggles. "That's what he gets for thinking he's such a know-it-all. He'll never know more than the gross basics about us."
Us. Squall shivers even in the afternoon heat. That isn't Rinoa talking. It's the sorceress inside her. Sorceresses, for all he knows; the resentment of generations gathering somewhere within her, tumbling out a sentence at a time. He tries to pretend he's not unnerved.
"Us?" he asks.
"What?" Rinoa blinks up at him, her eyes dark, any trace of sorceress gold gone from them at the moment.
"You said Odine would never know anything about us."
"What would he need to know? What've we got to hide?" She nudges him with her elbow and laughs. "Seriously, Squall, you need to lay off those GFs. I think they've messed with your brain permanently!"
He laughs along, weak and dry. "Maybe I'm just hearing things."
"Or not hearing at all. That's it, I'm booking an appointment with Dr. Kadowaki for you, as soon as we get back!" She grasps his hand and swings his arm as they walk down the skyway toward the airstation. "You're getting old, Squall, way before your time. You're turning into a grumpy old man."
* * *
"If she hadn't been there to receive Edea's powers," Quistis conceded over a cup of coffee in the cafeteria, "we never would have reached Ultimecia in time to stop her. We never could have saved the world. We owe Rinoa a lot. And that she did it willingly…I only wish I was that strong."
"I know it wasn't right," Squall muttered, bristling at Quistis' implied reference to his questionable decision to let Rinoa fight beside them.
"But it all worked out. That's what's important, isn't it?" She downed the last of her coffee and rose. "And whatever happens from now on, I think it's also important that we remember how much she's done for us."
"She didn't burn that beach on purpose."
"All the more disturbing."
"She'll get it under control. I'll make sure of it." Squall gritted his teeth and flicked his eyes up to catch Quistis' skeptical expression. "I will. I'll be by her side, every step of the way. She won't lose herself without losing me, too.
"I'll stay with her. It's the least I can do."
* * *
"But you'll stay with me, won't you?" Rinoa asks as they arrive at the airstation. "Even when you're grumpy and old, even if I can't help burning things. You'll stay with me, right?"
"Of course." Squall's smile is small and unsteady, and dread claws at his insides. "That's what I promised."
"Good. I don't want to lose you. I'd sooner lose myself."
"Is everything okay?"
Rinoa looks at her bangle, at the stone that hasn't stopped glowing since Odine put it on her. "Yeah. Just wanted to know where we stand, I guess. I know I can be a bit of a bother."
"But you're my bother," Squall says, trying to let playful affection disguise his worry, "and I wouldn't have it any other way."
She laughs, then flings her arms around his neck and kisses him. Her grip is too strong, her lips burn with barely-suppressed energy, and a sensation Squall can't recognize seeps into him, into his mind and into his mouth, looping around his tongue and binding his promise to the flesh.
She pulls away and he sees the gold flickering in her irises, a hard curl forming in her upper lip. "That's good, that's good! Because we won't have it any other way, will we? A sorceress and her knight, together forever!"
He nods and takes her hand, his thoughts swirling in a fog, but ultimately settling on what he knows is true.
Together forever. This is what Rinoa wants.
What right do I have to object?