She was back in the mortal realm. As Miang stepped out of the nether portal, she knew that for the second time in her existence she did not know what the future held nor what purpose her life served - and that that, perhaps even more than her beating heart, made her mortal. The only other time she had faced this situation, she had clung to the easy answers offered by Ultimecia and Yunalesca, and she had seen how poorly that had turned out. She resolved not to let herself get so easily convinced that she had all the answers. There was something oddly life-affirming about confusion.

Xu quickly set Chu-Chu down on the floor and jumped into Quistis' waiting arms. "Missions accomplished!" she said before they kissed.

Quistis smiled. "Now you can't say that you do no good for the world, can you?"

"Well, I couldn't have done without you," Mengshi insisted. She had been somewhat surprised - but relieved - to see the room was otherwise unoccupied. "The mages are gone?"

"Selphie's got them all gathered in the ballroom."

"Ah." Mengshi glanced back over her shoulder at Chu-Chu. "Well, looks like you missed all the action, then."

Chu-Chu frowned. "That's been the story of my life, Colonel." Having said so, she meandered out of the room to go find a window and look out on the stars. She had certainly been getting fidgety not being able to behold the Wondrous Mambo God.

Quistis gently let Mengshi slide out of her embrace and looked towards the purple-haired woman behind her. Meeting someone you already knew so much about was always a little awkward, especially when the someone's past was as complicated as Miang's. It would be rude to address Miang's suffering straight-up, but she also wasn't sure how to carry on a normal conversation with her. "Miang...?"

Miang winced at the mere mention of her name. She couldn't shake the feeling like that she shouldn't be here, that they had already done too much for her and each second of her continuing second of her life was only burdening the world more. She didn't want to be doing this them; she wanted to disappear. Remove all traces of her existence and stop hurting them over and over. "Hi."

Quistis approached her and smiled. "Quistis Trepe, but I think you already knew that." She offered her hand. "I'm glad I could meet you."

Miang sighed and half-heartedly shook hands. No matter out of friendliness could keep her from feeling horribly guilty. This wasn't supposed to be happening. She didn't belong here. She did not know how to react to, let alone interact with, these environs. Living and dealing with people as her own self were something she had never attemped before. Oh, she could present terribly well thousands of personalities, she could feign having mortal desires - but it had all been done to serve Deus, or to serve her self-imposed duty in hell. Now to serve herself? It seemed frightening to not have an overarching imperative of Virtue to guide her forward. "I... I don't want to be here."

Mengshi was immediately fearful and clutched Miang's forearm reassuringly. "Please..."

Miang jerked her arm away and folded them both across her chest. "Every bit of morality and conscience I have is telling me I have to do everything I can to stop you from wasting your time and energy helping someone who cannot be helped," she declared. She looked down at her boots and sighed. "But ... I'm finding it hard to keep fighting. I don't want to give in, don't want to succumb to weakness, but I don't know how to convince myself to put forth the effort."

"It's not a weakness at all, Miang," Mengshi insisted. "It's your desire to live and mean something to someone trying to free you from all the unnecessary duties you've imposed on yourself."

"I don't have any place to belong. It's a lost cause. I may be alive, but where am I supposed to live?"

"Oh!" Mengshi exclaimed. "I forgot to tell you ... you're staying with Quisty and I. We have a guest room you can use. We already talked about it and decided on it; don't worry."

"No," Miang insisted flatly. In her dreams and fantasies, she would love to be blessed with such an arrangement, of course, but that was only in a fantasy world where everyone was happy to coexist with everyone else. She couldn't burden them so in the real world. She had to think about the happiness they would lose, the inconvenience she would cause them... she knew this was not what they really wanted, and she could not force them to settle for anything less than the best.

Mengshi was hardly unprepared for this rejection. "I know you still feel like you have to work harder not to leave any footprints on the world. But your self-effacement will always be insatiable, Miang; you can never erase your existence completely. You'd be fighting forever and ever. It's a battle you can't win."

"We'd like to have you stay with us," Quistis interjected.

Miang sighed. Dammit, she was supposed to be the one working to help others, not Mengshi and Quistis. And yet they didn't buy into her philosophy of self-sacrifice, so why the hell were they still helping her? She might have been able to rationalize accepting the agreement if the SeeDs stood to gain something from her presence. Then it would be an arrangement of mutual benefit. But she was of no benefit to them, had nothing to offer them at all. It was just pity, that was the only reason they were helping her. And, yet, having come this close to what she wanted in her soul, she could let it go, even if she could not shut her conscience up. "I don't have know how I can pay you back for doing this for me..."

Mengshi smiled. "You don't have to pay us back. What we want is to see the world be a better place, to not have people suffering. So pay it forward. Quisty helped me get out of hell and that gave me the chance to get you out. Now you have the chance to help Yunalesca and Ultimecia. If you rescue them, you'll have done something good for the world ... and then they can do something good too."

Miang nodded. "That's right," she reassured herself. "I'm not going to abandon them. They're my friends, no matter how wrong they are."

"NO!!!" Mengshi shrieked; she dived at Miang and seized her by the throat. Miang was so caught off guard that Mengshi managed to drag her a foot or two across the floor before before Miang flipped her assailant over her shoulder onto the ground.

Quistis could only stare, baffled but horrified, at the scene, until Miang folded her arms and declared, "I'm not listening to you anymore, Ultimecia."

Ultimecia - in Xu's body - looked up from her position on the floor. "Don't let her blind you into becoming a fool again, Miang; you know my suffering and death is integral to the time loop." Then she sank back down, and Mengshi's normal demeanor returned. "Oh, Hyne," she sobbed, "I'm sorry, I - I MUST NOT LIVE!" She leapt at Miang and tackled her, and the two ended up scuffling on the floor.

Quistis winced and drew her breath in sharply. "Don't hurt her, please," she pleaded.

Mengshi's personality returned again and she pushed Miang away. "I... I can't control myself... I don't know how to stop her..."

"ALL EXISTENCE DENIED!"

Miang rolled out of the way as Xultimecia dived at her. "What are you doing? You know you can't change what happens to you."

Xultimecia rose to her knees. "Precisely," she growled. "This universe brings me nothing but eternal suffering. It should not, must not, exist when it exists only to bring me pain! And I may not be able to change my position, but I can at least express my displeasure with it by killing those irrelevant to history! I WILL BUILD A MONUMENT TO NON-EXISTENCE!" She lunged forward again, shrieking "KILL!"; Miang jumped aside. At least Xultimecia seemed so completely blinded by her anger that she ignored all her sorceress powers in favor of flailing about physically.

Miang and Quistis both looked at each other to seek the others' assistance. Their gazes met, and they realized that neither had any clue how to stop this.

"All... existence... denied..." Ultimecia hissed, then Mengshi took over the body again, cried, "No, stop, please; I don't want you fighting on my behalf."

"She gave you half her powers, right?" Quistis checked, and Miang nodded confirmation. Quistis quickly knelt before Mengshi and gripped both her shoulders. "Mengshi, please, you're only half a sorceress now; she can't control you all the way. Try to resist her."

"I am trying," Mengshi gasped, her face contorted in obvious distress.

"I know you are. Hang in there." She held up her half of the SeeD yin-yang, and Mengshi smiled. "Remember, I'll always be here for you..."

"I MUST BE DESTROYED!" Ultimecia roared, but Mengshi pushed her quickly away this time. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry. I am a monster..."

"Don't hate yourself. Don't get upset; it'll just make it easier for her," Quistis gushed instructions as fast as Mengshi's eyes did tears. "Stay calm... think about me... deep breaths..."

Mengshi felt a horrific darkness probing her mind again. This is it; here we go! Mengshi attempted to muster her mind to resist Ultimecia's. She fell to the floor, twitching, as she struggled with Ultimecia. The other sorceress' mind felt like an unfathomable abyss, a vacuum that was swallowing up her sanity, and she had to pull her self-control out of it with all of her will, and pull, and pull, each second feeling like the last one she could resist.

"You can do it; hang in there; I love you; you can do it," Quistis repeated over and over.

"Come on, Mengshi..." Miang joined in.

And then the darkness was gone. Just gone. It did not fade away, did not collapse ... it simply was not there anymore. It vanished so quickly that it took Mengshi a moment to realize that she was free. "I did it!" she exclaimed. She rose to her knees, gasping for breath. "I... I think I'm okay now." She looked at both of them. "All that I said about wanting to kill you wasn't me, you know. I mean, I know I'm a sorceress, but..."

"I know," Quistis said as she embraced Mengshi. "The sorceress powers are part of you, but the words that came out of them are not." Mengshi nodded her agreement, pleased at how Quistis had put it. Quistis smiled and kissed her lightly. "Don't worry about it, dear. I'm your knight, remember?"

Mengshi whispered, "Don't say anything ... just hold me."

Quistis gently drew Mengshi against her chest and folded her arms around her. Mengshi closed her eyes and relaxed as she felt her panic slip away to be replaced with comfort and security. Being held by Quisty was so always reassuring. She didn't have to prove herself. Quistis would always love her. She was really okay the way she was. Mengshi took a deep breath and tried to collect her thoughts so she could move on. "Okay. I think I'm fine now."

The pair rose. "We'll get a new Odine Bangle A.S.A.P.," Quistis reassured Mengshi. "And please don't worry about what Ultimecia can do. I know it's her, not you. And I'll always be here to protect you."

Mengshi shook her head. "No, I think I've come up with a better idea. One to make it so no one has to bear a burden. And one to make sure that Ultimecia won't be able to control any of us." She hesitated. "Would you take Miang home, dear? I want to go talk to Mrs. Kramer."

* * *

Selphie's dance troupe continued to lead the mages and mice around and around the ballroom. "Sefie, do you have another plan?" Irvine shouted over the noise of their footsteps. "I'm not sure how much longer I can do this!" Indeed, they had no rest between the showdown at the museum and the attack on Garden and had been in action for at least sixteen hours.

"Left left right chu! Well... maybe we could lock them all in the MD level? Right right left chu!"

"FUJIYAMA!"

Mikoto was still watching from her perch over the door with her usual condescending stare. They were such deluded idealists to have thought their stupid dancing game would have saved Balamb. Nothing was that easy to solve.

Except the situation was turning into one that she could solve. The mages should be in their village. That was where they belonged; she knew that without having to think about it. But why should she care? It would not affect her life at all, and it was irrational to care about others' fates. Dammit. She wasn't supposed to have a soul - and she realized that somewhere along the lines, she must have conceded to them that this soul mumbo-jumbo actually existed. Sigh.

But what if it had worn off on her? What if somehow living with these lesser people had made her start to develop the same compassion, the same - well, she wasn't sure what it was, except that it was what made them human and what made her a Genome instead. At least until the proverbial Blue Fairy had come along and fucked this all up.

She hopped down from the arch and stepped forward somewhat apprehensively. "Hey..." Selphie and many of the others turned to look at her, and she started to clam up. She was so used to being treated as a nuisance that she felt a little overwhelmed when others seemed to want to hear what she had to say. All she did was belittle people; she didn't quite know how else to address them. "Look, I know where these guys belong."

Without breaking from her dance, Selphie cocked her head towards Mikoto, trying to encourage her. "Yeah? What's up?" She could tell that Mikoto was trying to offer more than her usual cynicism and arrogance. For one thing, if Mikoto were planning to shoot her mouth off about something, she probably would have done so by now.

"There's a black mage village, where I come from, of mages like these, and Genomes." She stopped, realizing she'd reached the end of where she knew she was going with this. Her idea had seemed complete in her head, but now it was less perfect than she had figured. Were they just going to lead all the mages there? Who would do that? This wasn't much of a plan at all.

Selphie alleviated the situation by jumping in. "All right ... do you want to take things over?"

"Okay," Mikoto grunted.

In the middle of her dance routine, Selphie gestured for Mikoto to come stand behind. The Genome girl reluctantly obeyed. "All right, I'll show you how to dance so you can lead them yourself." Selphie tossed Mikoto a pair of maracas and a sombrero. "Follow me. Left, right, up, down, chu!"

Trying not to embarrass herself too badly, Mikoto echoed Selphie's gestures in the most half-hearted fashion possible. "Left, right, up, down, chu," she repeated in a bored tone.

"Aw, come on, that's not dancing. Look alive!" Selphie shouted to her as she completed the next set of steps by herself. "Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, chu, chu!"

"Everybody's waiting to see your dance! Show me your burnin' SOUL!"

What soul? But she tried anyway, shaking her maracas with all her might. "Up! Up! Down! Down! Left! Right! Left! Right! Chu! Chu!" This is so embarrassing. Dancing was utterly ridiculous. And with all of Garden watching her, too - would her reputation never recover? It didn't matter to her that the rest of them were already dancing; she still could see not it as anything other than humiliation. This wasn't even good music! It didn't have any interesting time signatures and it was a mess of hackneyed instrumentation. All it had to speak for itself was that it conveyed some sort of heart, human passion, soul ... bah. She stopped in the middle of one set of steps and slouched back into her usual posture of general disgust and apathy. "Never mind. Forget it. This is stupid and embarrassing."

"C'mon, Mikoto, Look at this way: twenty years from now, you'll be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the things you did do. This isn't going to humiliate you for the rest of your life. Now once more, with feeling! Left up, right, up, left, left, left!"

"All right, all right. Left, up, right, right, um - Dammit, I fucked up."

"No problem; you're getting better. Stay in there; don't stop because you make one mistake. Okay, let's keep going. Left, left, up, chu, chu!"

"Left, left, up, chu, chu!"

"Right, right, down, chu, chu."

"Right, right, down, chu, chu!" Mikoto had yet to notice, but Selphie was slowing down her own movements. The attention of Mother Brain's army was starting to shift to the young protégée.

Lucky Dan, at least, was quite impressed by Mikoto's performance. He took a bounding leap and landed right beside her. "Are you a monkey?" he exclaimed. "You're a dance animal!"

"Up, up, down, down, chu, chu." Selphie did not even move as she called out this set of instructions.

"Up, up, down, down, chu, chu!" Mikoto repeated. This was the moment! Selphie gave her a might shove forward. Mikoto stumbled a bit, but kept up the dance, and the rats and mage followed her out of town. Of course, by now Mikoto saw that she had had leadership dumped on her, but it was too late to do anything. She was playing with live ammunition now - like it or not, she was in command of the army and couldn't mess up. Besides, she had more or less accidentally proved she could handle the power.

Mikoto led Mother Brain's masses out of the room. Selphie grinned, quite pleased with her performance and also delighted to see Mikoto doing something productive. "See, Mikoto?" she called. "Everyone has a part to play in the world!"

"Except for me," Nida muttered morosely from the back.

Lucky Dan waved to the departing army. "You ARE the weakest link. Goodbye!"

Squall pounced on him from behind. "Ha! Gotcha!" Now that his mojo's dance routine was no longer integral to the survival of Garden, he was free to reclaim this missing part of him. Dan faded into Squall's body and vanished.

Feeling much better about himself, Squall pushed through the dispersing crowd in search of Rinoa. He had miraculously recovered the confidence to talk to her. "Rinoa! I have my mojo back!"

"Go away, Squall," Rinoa snapped and instantly regretted it. Dangit, she did want to try to be nice to him, but it was so freakin' hard when he was spouting crap like this.

"But I have my mojo! I'm okay now!" he insisted. "I can even try to turn into a chair, if that's what you'd really want."

"Look, Squall, it's not that I'm furnisexual. That was just a dumb cover story, c'mon. It's that ... I really can't go on pretending I love you when I don't. This relationship isn't what I want. I'm sorry."

So that was it, then. He was really doomed. "I guess I'm worthless, then," he mumbled with a trace of bitterness. "Sorry for not being good enough for you." He turned to shuffle away.

She could have left it there. Hurting him to forget about how much she herself hurt. Pretending that this was the full extent of her heart. Apathy made a wonderful painkiller for the hurt brought by unfulfilled hopes; she could almost forget she even wanted more than this. Almost.

"Squall, wait, I..."

Squall came to an immediate halt and looked hopefully back on her. Maybe this showed she really needed him after all!

She looked downwards and shook her head, frustrated with her clumsiness. "I'm not sure what to say..."

But he was! Now was his chance! With the right magic words he could prove he was the one and win Rinoa's heart back! He had been right all along! And he just knew what they are!

"Shut the hell up!" Squall bellowed. "Now get in the kitchen and make some goddamn TEA already!" His entire body quivered with rage as he delivered a sharp kick to the railing. "Arggggggh! Damn, I'm pissed!"

Rinoa just stared at him, her troubles suddenly a world away. "What the hell?"

Squall's glazed-eye stare and sullen stature immediately returned. "Oh, I was just keeping you on your toes," he said as if this was nothing in the least way remarkable. Rinoa was still staring at him - how had Squall ended up doing that? "I was told girls would like me if I do that," he said defensively. "You know, to make you feel bad so you'd like me."

"Um, no, most of us would think you're a boorish asshole," Rinoa retorted.

"I guess you don't want to see the shirts I bought, then."

Rinoa was still lived. "How the hell did get into your head convince you girls would want you if you treated them like shit?"

"Sorry. It was a mistake. Anyway, you were saying something about me..."

"Never mind," Rinoa snapped. "Just never mind." She turned and stormed away, daring herself not to look back. Keeping her on her toes, her Aunt Sally. What an idiot. That was the kind of shit that she would have expected from Seifer, and it sure hadn't gotten him anywhere. Humans. They all ended up the same. Well, that was why she was furnisexual by choice. Furniture never treated anyone like that.

"Wait! I have a funny joke! Two Guado walk into a bar and -" But it was of no use.

Squall sighed. Shot down once again by the one true love of his life. Why couldn't she see what he did? Why had Seifer given him such bad advice? He felt like he needed a good cry right now. Time to dig out the diary and play acoustic guitar really badly.

* * *

Rinoa was now a stranger in her own apartment. She could no longer look at all the posters and feel quite at home. Things had changed, if only a little, and she could not help but reevaluate her environment. These were no longer the accommodations of her current home. It was more like walking through a time warp and being in a life that she lived years ago.

She had to confess that what Selphie had often accused her of had a grain of truth to it: She didn't really care about half of what she campaigned for. Oh, these were important causes all right. She did not intend to render any of them silly (or cosmically insignificant) in her mind. But how long could she go on caring about them, destroying herself over the world's slightest problem. All just so she could feel like she was important.

But... dammit. She interrupted that train of thought before it got anywhere. She didn't want to have to do anything with Squall. He was an ass! Not to mention a pathetic loser, a socially undeveloped reject, and an abrasive prick. No, he could never make her feel important.

Still, Squall or no Squall, perhaps it was time to think about what she really wanted to value. She certainly cared about Timber; she certainly cared about sorceresses. And she certainly planned to carry on those cause - remembering all the sorceresses before her who had died invisibly, getting their persecution added to the textbooks, and so on. But furnisexuals? No matter what she had claimed to be, she was not furnisexual, nor had she ever met anyone who had been one. Rebels on some tiny Galbadian island she couldn't pronounce, let alone claim she'd ever been to? She knew nothing of what the island was really like, knew nothing of what she fought for. Unionizing working bees? She had no clue what the bees really wanted. The suffering of others represented in these posters had become, as Selphie had warned her, an icon, a symbol of identity. Playthings for the benefit of the ego of some upper-class white kid who had never known real suffering. Her dreams were not even of their solutions, but of endless protests and conflict. She did not even truly want to solve them.

And, really, had half of her crusades accomplished a damn thing? It wasn't even her campaign that had brought Yuffie to back to Garden. There were surely more fruitful, more enjoyable ways to spend her time than trying to enlist her dog in the impending class war or dropping furniture porn leaflets all over Balamb. She didn't even know any furnisexuals; who was she to be campaigning on their supposed behalf?

Still, she was not really in any rush to forget these causes. It wasn't like she was doing any immediate damage - at least not to anyone besides herself. And she had hardly considered a new life; it was only this morning that she was smashing museum display cases. This was really just a random passing thought, a momentary doubt. But she also feared that if she did not act while the morning's crisis still loomed over her, she would lose her motivation and her chance to regard the world in somewhat more positive terms. And if she was not willing to let go...

All for the oil, indeed.

She removed the tacks from the banner hanging over her bed and rolled it carefully up. She took one last look at it, ridding her mind of any lingering doubts, and then wedged it somewhere in her closet.

"So long, Che."

* * *

The dorm hallways were marred with burnt carpets, dents in the walls, broken fluorescent lights - all scars from the morning's fighting. Zell stepped carefully through them, being careful to avoid any broken glass or other hazards. He had already recognized that his feud with Squall with petty, and now it was time to end it. To do anything else at this point would be to live in denial. Pride be damned, what he was doing was pretty stupid.

He was surprised to find Rinoa leaning against the wall outside Squall's room. She was just standing there with arms folded, not looking like she was going anywhere or even waiting for anything. "Uh, hey," he said as he passed her by.

"If you're going to talk to Squall, tell him I'm still not speaking to him! I really want him to know that!"

Zell paid her little attention and pushed open the door to Squall's room. Squall sat on his bed with his acoustic guitar in his arms, trying his best - which wasn't much - to play along with the Quina Eat World song blasting from his stereo. Ah, but if it could only be his angel Rinoa in his arms instead of his guitar... mojo or no mojo, his life was so devoid of color without her...

Zell left the door open as he stepped further into the room. "Hey, Squall, can you turn that crap off for a sec? I gotta talk to you about some stuff."

"Leave me alone," Squall mumbled. "I'm trying to play acoustic guitar really badly, and I've got friends coming over."

"No, man, I need to talk to you," Zell said. "This is important."

Squall sighed. "All right, go ahead."

"Okay, let me tell you about popular music, Squall. It sucks. You know why? Because popular music is the biggest destructive money-making scheme since scientology. It's the new feudalism; it separates people! Okay, think about it, what's the best way to figure out what social group anyone under the age of thirty is in? Right, the music they listen to! I mean, pretty much everyone goes to see the same movies 'n stuff, but music is completely divided into factions! The goths listen to all their shitty industrial stuff while they bite the heads off bats, the jocks like Seifer listen to nü metal and keep grabbing their crotches, the thugs and wiggers who wear their pants around their ankles listen to hip-hop, the granola-eating hippies listen to granola-eating hippie jam bands, the pissed-off feminists listen to other pissed-off feminists, you sweater-wearing emo kids listen to emo, the punks and skaters like me listen to punk, the metalheads listen to metal, the snotty artfag types like Mikoto listen to indie rock and brag about how intellectual they are, the music-major band nerds listen to jazz because they think guitars aren't real instruments, the fat anime fans who live in their parents' basements listen to J-pop and They Might Be Giants, the ravers and skinny Linux programmers in plaid button-down shirts listen to electronica ... and never the twain does meet! Everyone thinks their kind of music is the best and everything else sucks! Every group says that they're real underground. They tell you that you alone are the intelligent, cultured rebel that has separated the wheat from the chaff, that knows the truth, and that you're so much better than all those MTV-watching morons below you! It's an ego trip! Everyone wants to think they're cool and more underground than everyone else! I mean, when was the last time you saw a band that didn't try to posture itself as some rebellious force that's got all the answers and is striking back against the uncultured masses? I mean, fuck, even Limp Bizkit think they're rebels! You know, it makes you feel better about yourself to think you're smarter than everyone else. I guess it's a way of dealing with the world's problem. It's easy to say that, hey, those guys are all stupid and if they listened to Fugazi, we wouldn't have any more famine or war or anything. You can take the blame off yourself. And it's also about fitting in, of course. That's why I say it's like feminine. Everyone's swearing allegiance to a particular group and basing their entire identities around promoting the works of a bunch of rock stars and they've never even meant. How's that any different from serving your lord's estate and fighting against the neighboring country where are the people are all really the same as you but wear differently colored helmets? And the modern version of heraldry is all the T-shirts and backpack buttons you buy to proclaim which social group you're in, so that other people from the same group can recognize you as One Of Them and accept you as being smart and worthy of attention. I'll admit it; I'm guilty of that. I mean, I see some guy in a Filth Brigade shirt and think, hey, he's got great taste in music; he must be cool! But I don't know him. He could be a total jackass for all I know! And that metalhead over there with the hair down to his waist could actually be the coolest guy around. But, hey, if you put your favorite bands over people's humanity like you're told, you'd never find out! See, 'cause the music industry wants you to think that you're being oppressed. They want you to think that society is on the verge collapse, that the airwaves are on the verge being taken over by the crappy music of some other group, and that the only way to fight back is to buy Radiohead or Linkin Park or Marilyn Manson's latest album! Because that nets them more money! The more different social groups they can create, the more they can make people they're being oppressed, the more CDs and T-shirts they can sell you! And even if there weren't any problems in the world, the record industry would find new ones to create. I mean, if everyone was perfectly happy with their lives, they sure wouldn't need to buy music that speaks to their angst! Unhappiness is a multibillion dollar industry, you know. If you tell people that they're being oppressed by bad music and have to stand out, that they have to re-enact some manufactured vision of perfect romance and then buy 200 crappy emo CDs because it doesn't work in real life, then you can sell them a shitload more discs and t-shirts and stupid patches for their backpacks. And that's fucking stupid, because it means some fat bastard in a suit is getting rich by making people discontent. And people have to buy into this crap if they want to fit in, if they want to have any sort of social life! I mean, even if it sucks, it's what people talk about! It's what people do! I mean ... imagine if you never saw any movies, if you never listened to any popular music. You'd be left out of so many conversations. If you don't wear some band's T-shirt, you'll get rejected by every group. And people would say you're stupid for not owning all the classic albums. You'd be a cultural reject! So selling popular music is nothing more than a tax on cultural literacy! And what happens to the people who can't afford all this shit, or don't like what the bands are saying and don't want to give them money? It's bullshit that you have to line the pockets of a media conglomerate just so you can carry on a frickin' conversation! I mean, at least with books you can check them out of a library, but, hey, you better not get any free music because Buttfuck Media International's profits will be down! I mean, I'm not trying to say that we all have to be starving artists; it's cool that people can make a living off playing their music. But they shouldn't make it off people pissed at each other! The cultural-industrial complex is like the arms dealers provoking a war so they can sell weapons to both sides! Think about it - you know why mainstream entertainment that everyone claims to hate is still successful? Because what they're really selling you is grounds to bitch about mainstream entertainment and act all superior. I mean, think about all the people that say Final Fantasy sucks and yet they buy each new game as soon as they're released. Why they do that? So they can say that they've been let down and act all outraged, that's why! Because it's an ego trip to be a rebel! I mean, for Hynessakes, I remember that Rage Against the Machine did a song for the Godzilla soundtrack that was all bashing on Godzilla and saying it's meaningless corporate drivel. And that's exactly what whoever was putting that soundtrack together wanted! I mean, all the people who bought that CD were probably like, 'Yeah Zack, you're so insightful, go stick it to The Man!' They were totally happy to run out and hand over their dollars to fight the system, when they really were feeding the system! I mean, seriously, how can 'alternative' music be popular? Because it's not an alternative at all! See, nobody wants to willingly be a corporate tool; the only way they can get you is by masquerading their meaningless marketing tools as rebellion against meaningless marketing tools. All these ideals and rebellions and shit are just a way to buy some guy in a suit - not even the bands themselves - a new BMW. See, that's what's wrong with popular music; that's why I'm always out stumping for punk bands. You know, 'cause the punk scene is all about unity, all about being yourself, right? We're trying to bring down the cultural-industrial complex and build an alternative that isn't trying to fleece you. So people can talk about cool, down-to-earth, independent punk bands that aren't spewing manufactured angst. But, y'know, soon the anti-faction faction becomes a faction unto itself. And all their attacks on factions become just another set of meaningless, overly-rigid dogma that another stupid faction clings to. People start rebelling for rebellion's sake, just like all the shitty bands we hate. What you're saying gets lost in the rush to say it. And once your little rebellion gets sucked up into the endless circle jerk of coolness, you've got to abandon it and find a new revolution to hook up with. Always looking for the new underground, always jumping off as soon that underground get subverted - it's not easy! And I mean, fuck, it's not just music. It's the same argument everywhere culture intersects with sanity. It doesn't matter whether it's about who's more punk, or who's more emo, or dubbing anime, or Fire Emblem, or anarchists or feminists or environmentalists or any religion, ever; there's always the guy arguing that the movement needs to bring its ideals to everyone and the guy arguing that doing that will water them down. It's always the same two dumb arguments locked in some eternal monkey-versus-robot, neo-Zoroastrian struggle incarnated in thousands of semi-literate, stream-of-conscious posts of message board users the world over. And you know what? They're both retards. No band, no dogma will make your life complete. The only way to win is not to play the game. Cause, y'know, what the hell does yelling in people's faces change anyway? Who ever thinks 'Hey, you just insulted my favorite band, I think I'll go out and buy some Propagandhi CDs?' You have to lead by example. Y'know, forget being cool or not being cool -- forget even trying to subvert other people's coolness. I mean, every time you attack a sacred cow, you're only legitimizing it as an icon. And if you refuse to do something because it's popular, you're still letting its popularity influence you. You have to your own thing and not worry about what other people are doing and whether it's cool or popular or whatever. And in this case, doing my own thing is doing what everyone else is doing and being happy about it. I think that's the only way to really lead! 'Cause maybe people will see I'm happier now that I'm content to be me, and then they'll want to do the same thing! And if everyone did that, if everyone refuses to reduce themselves to conflicting groups, their plan will fall apart! You hear me, Hilary Rosen? I'm through with you and your manufactured division and unhappiness! I'm going to line right up to buy the new Incubus CD the day it's released and no amount of rebellion is going to convince me I'm a pussy! I AM A CONSUMER WHORE AND I'M PROUD OF IT! PUNK AS FUCK, BABY!" He raised his fists in a victory pose.

"Zell, are you even talking to me anymore?"

Zell lowered his hands. "Were you listening to any of what I was saying?" Of course he was talking to Squall. Didn't he get it?

"Yes. It didn't make a lot of sense. Could you go over it again?"

"What I'm trying to say, Squall, is that, well... I guess when all is said and done, I was nothing more than a goddamn trendy-ass poser. Instead of doing what I really wanted, I changed my tastes to try to make a statement." He shook his head. "Doesn't matter now. I'm through being cool. Come on, let's go drink coffee and whine about relationships. It's on me." He offered his hand to Squall.

Squall blinked, startled, but eventually took Zell's hand. He was glad that Zell was suddenly wanting to be friends with him, even if his change of attitude had seemed to come completely out of left field. "Well, uh, thanks," he said. "I never wanted to be your enemy."

"Yeah, I know. But let's let bygones by bygones, huh? I promise I'll lay off your taste in music."

The door swung open and Squall's aforementioned friends filed in: A pink Bob-omb, the pigtailed girl from the Library Committee, and another blonde girl - all wearing emo glasses, of courseroom. Squall immediately turned his attention from Zell and mechanically greeted them. "Hi, Bombette. Hi, Rikku. Hi, Kid."

"G'day!"

"Oh, are these all your emo friends?" Zell inquired.

His question was answered when Squall said to them, "Thanks for coming, girls. Let's all whine about relationships!"

"Yeah, there's this other Bob-omb that likes me, but I'm not sure if I like him!" Bombette said.

"I know what you mean!" Rikku said. "Seifer Almasy gave me all these Cactuar UFO catcher dolls! And the dolls are really cool, but I think Seifer's a big jerk!" She sniffled and rubbed her watery eyes. "Plus I still don't think I'm over poor Aurie-kun."

"Awwww," Kid said. "Your heartbreak is so adorable, mate!"

"Thanks! I try!" She sniffled. "But my brother's mean; he always makes fun of me for it."

"I think we should all go have a good cry because we hurt so much!" Bombette suggested. "Starbucks, anyone?"

* * *

Rinoa kept her arms folded and her gaze straight forward. You don't care what's going on in there, she reminded herself. You shouldn't be happy that Zell is being nice to Squall.

Squall trooped out of the room flanked by two other girls with whom he was chatting amiably. If she had been a Genome Soldier, a giant red "!" would have appeared over Rinoa's head. What the heck? How did that happen? Other girls weren't supposed to like him! He was a pathetic loser! Since when did being a pathetic, heartbroken loser become cool.

Chu-Chu poked her head out of the elevator. "Is this where all the cute pathetic, heartbroken emo boys are hiding out?" she asked hopefully.

"No! He's mine!" Rinoa lashed out at them all. She viciously shoved Rikku away, seized Squall's arm, and dragged him back into his room.

Kid sniffled. Just when she was getting to talk to a nice cute heartbroken loser, that stupid bitch came along again. Poor Squall; he was such a sweetie and deserved so much more. Why did he let himself get whipped by that dumb whore? She sniffled again, because she was just that sad and heartbroken. "Boys suck."

Rikku put a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder. "Aw, cheer up, emo Kid!"

Chu-Chu wandered down the hall towards them. Well, Squall was gone (he was so cute and heartbroken), but Zell was still here. But she didn't think he was heartbroken too. She frowned. "Are chu an emo kid, Zell?"

"No! I mean, uh, I guess I sorta am. I mean, I think we've all got an emo kid inside us."

Chu-Chu winked at him. "Well, I'd sure like to have your 'emo kid' inside me, if you catch my drift."

"Wait, actually, I'm not an emo kid at all."

"Oh, well, Chu-Chu'll settle for cute emo girls." She winked at Bombette. "Ooh, c'mon, baby, we're the right height for each other!"

Bombette shuddered and silently stepped away from Chu-Chu, trying to slide out of the pink pervert's attention. But Chu-Chu only crept up on her, leering. "I love your pretty, maidenly turnhandle," she whispered. "Can I touch it?" Bombette fled for real this time, scurrying away down the hall.

Chu-Chu rolled after her. "Come back! Chu-Chu love chu long time!"

Kid shook her head. "Poor Squall. He must hurt a lot deep inside, like Chris Carrabba." She sniffled again at the mention of her dream boyfriend - one of her many dream boyfriends, that was to say. "Chris is sooo dreamy!"

Oh boy, was someone ever testing his resolve. Stay good, Zell! Stay good, Zell!

Rikku pointed an accusing finger at her. "Shut up, you only starting liking him once he went on MTV and got popular!"

"Okay, but I'm still more sad and heartbroken than you, mate. My orphanage was burned down when I was a little kid. I've been sad all my life. I cry all the time because I hurt. On the inside."

"Uh, like, I don't think so!" Rikku could not believe that Kid would even think such an outrageous thing. "All the guys I've liked have been dead and I'm still not over them! I'm so more emo than you."

Dammit, being sad does not make you cool! Zell still felt a desire to grab them by their collars and scream it in their faces. But he didn't actually see it now as something he'd do. Who was he to judge what was allowed to mean something to them? Whatever joy they derived from appreciating things would always be greater than the joy anyone derived from hating them.

"Yeah, but I have a great collection of ironically nostalgic t-shirts, and you only have that one stupid Vagrant Records shirt," Kid countered.

"Well, your t-shirts can talk to the hand, 'cause the face ain't listening. You just aren't ready for my jelly." Rikku thrust her palm towards Kid and turned her head away.

My God, this is the most pathetic argument I've ever seen. When would it end?

"All right, mate, now you're asking to have your ass kicked so hard you'll be the kissing the moon," Kid threatened.

Something exploded and Chu-Chu staggered back down the hall, covered in ash and soot. "Ouchu!" she exclaimed before toppling over.

Rikku sniffled. "I'm sad because you're so mean to me. I feel like everyone hates me. I think I'm kinda 'in the middle,' like in that Quina Eat World song. That song really speaks to me."

"Well, it speaks to me more!"

Zell backed down the hallway. "Look, uh, nice meeting you girls, but I think I've got an, uh, bar mitzvah to go to." Having said his goodbye - not that the girls were really listening to him anyway - he quickly turned and ran away as fast as he could.

"Shut up, you stupid whore!" Rikku put her hands on her hips and stared menacingly at Kid.

"Bitch!"

"Licentious howler!" Rikku slapped Kid on the cheek. Kid immediately burst out in tears - she hurt, on the inside - and crumpled down into a wounded crouch. Rikku immediately regretted the attack. "Oopsie! I'm sorry! Are you okay? Get up, Kid!"

That was the last Zell saw of the dispute, as the elevator doors closed before him. Whew, what a mess. He was rather glad to get away. Even if he was going to make his best effort to tolerate their preferences - and, honestly, he didn't really have any objections to them - they weren't necessarily the most comfortable thing to sit through.

"Hey, Zell," Irvine, who had been in the elevator said, "Who were those girls you were with there? Does Selphie know about this?"

Zell sighed. "It's a long story, okay?"

"Well, the ladies seemed to be all over you and Squall. What's your trick?"

Zell rolled his eyes, exasperated. "I don't know; get some big ugly glasses, play acoustic guitar really badly, be sad and heartbroken. Or just stop bein' a friggin' poser."

"Really?" Irvine said. "Where do you get the glasses?"

Zell banged his head against the wall. Would the madness never stop? Why was it that as soon as he laid off with the posturing, everyone else got twice as worse? Oh, well, it was hardly his place to criticize. "Look, I really don't think the whole emo thing would suit you, Irvine."

"But I need a woman!" Irvine protested.

"Or a man?"

"All right, you got me, I'd do that too, but what's it to you?"

"You owe me four ears of corn, that's what."

* * *

Rinoa shoved Squall into his room and slammed the door shut behind them. The Quina Eat World disc was still playing on Squall's stereo; he went to shut it off as he said, "I thought you weren't talking to me."

Rinoa sighed. She didn't like it that her feelings had an impact on him. It made her feel like she had to be more responsible about how she acted. But wait - wasn't that what she wanted all along? To have her thoughts actually make a different to someone? "Sorry; I'm just confused," she said. "I don't know what to feel any more."

"Well, you know I'll always stand by you, Rinoa."

...but not if he would spout nothing but empty expressions of commiseration. Seifer could shower her with nothing but abuse, Squall with nothing but praise; it was all the same in the end. But ... like she had heard Zell say to Squall, the only way to win was not to play the game. If she kept fretting about her pride, she couldn't expect things to change. "Squall, I have to admit that I've done a lot of stupid things in the past few months ... past few years. It's not all your fault. There's a lot of me that I never gave you a chance to understand, and now I have so much I need to explain to you..."

Squall shrugged. "What difference does it make? "You've already crushed my poor heart like, like ... like one of those big things in the Mario games that fall down on you. You know, with the spikes. I can't remember what they're called."

Rinoa stomped her feet in frustration with herself. She didn't know how to communicate what she wanted, wasn't used to dealing in anything other than ultimate highs and ultimate lows. For once, she had too many conflicting feelings, too many subtleties and shades, to be conveyed in a linear invective. How could she put this into words? "Squall, just please listen to me," she begged.

"Fine, whatever."

"Look, here's the deal. I mean it when I say this relationship isn't what I want. I'm not interested in a faceless yesman; I don't want to have to define every aspect of your life. I don't want us to move in together. But ... look, Seifer screwed me over really badly, and I'm sorry I never really told you about it. 'Cause... well, here's the problem." She realized she was giving this in a terribly disjointed fashion, but she had too many thoughts and things to say to stay on any one of them for more than a brief moment. "I needed to feel like I could stand up to him; he hurt really me bad. That's why I so quick to cling to you; I was so reliant on him and then dumped me and I needed someone to tell me I was okay. And, look, I know I did the same thing to you, but I didn't mean to, and I'm sorry, and I guess seeing that I could do it too helped me forgive Seifer, but here's the problem. I'm getting past that; I've seen what I've done to you, and I, I don't want to be manipulating you." This was going nowhere. She sighed and cut off her rambling. "Squall, I don't want to continue what was going on, but I'm willing to, I do want to - try to, at least - start something better. With you, I mean. I realize I haven't given you enough of a chance by even telling you my problems. But I'll try again. I mean, I don't think we should be, y'know, together right now. Not like before. But we can start again. I want to give you another chance, Squall, if you'll give me one."

"Thwomps," Squall mumbled absently. "That was their name."

"Squall? Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah."

"Well... do you understand or not? Why I hate it when you treat me a robot?"

He would have assured that he didn't mind any of her problems, that he was all too happy to support her despite this, but at last something more had awakened in him. Something that would not permit him to continue living in one dimension for her supposed benefit. "Yeah. I mean, you've done that to me a lot too. It kind of bothered me. And there are these two girls who have crushes on me, you saw them. They're nice but it's frustrating that keep following me around when I'm not interested in them. So I can understand how I must have been annoying you a lot."

And in a brief seconds Rinoa jumped from living in one world to another. He... he... he actually said something halfway critical about her! And he really understood how she felt! He was treating her like a real human being, at long last! Not that she would ever be caught dead acknowledging the existence of any higher power (because of the second law of thermodynamics), but thank Hyne, he had suddenly acquired a semblance of a backbone! He was a person, and so was she! She MATTERED! For the first time in a long while - perhaps ever - she felt like she was in control of her own choices. Perhaps it would not last, but for the passion of the moment had whisked her mind and body to a land where someone loved her for her. She was suddenly compelled to embrace him. "Oh, Squall." Maybe there was hope. Yes, they were far from a perfect couple, or even a couple at all, but...

Knowing that she was not a robot and that she had the power to change herself. That was a gift.

"So, um, where am I?" Squall asked.

"Huh?"

"Ex-boyfriend? Acquitance? Friend? Best friend? Best friend with benefits? Boyfriend? Throw me a frickin' bone here!"

Dangit, those were just the kind of questions she didn't want to have to answer. She grumbled and shook her head in frustration. "Look, I don't know. I really don't. That's what we need to figure out. But I want to do things together, okay? Naybe we can... um, what the hell do you do these days, anyway?"

"Well..." What did he do? Besides mope? "I write poetry... I drink coffee ... and I'm learning to play the acoustic guitar really badly. Is it true that girls like guys who play acoustic guitar really badly? I was playing my acoustic guitar really badly; did you hear me?"

Rinoa frowned. Um, how did she say this? "It sounded, well, kinda crappy. No offense."

Kinda crappy? Only kinda crappy? He had been going for full-on utter badness. That was what girls liked, wasn't it? Oh well, he was new and still learning. He couldn't expect to become 100% emo overnight.

"Anyway ... how about we go for coffee, then? We can just chat. It doesn't have to be anything serious."

Well, what more could he have expected? After all that had happened, he was lucky for this - at least she wasn't still sleeping with furniture. Maybe this would be good. Start things off slow. Even he had to admit that there was now a rather significant rift between them and he could not expect it to close instantaneously. But this was a step in the right direction. And there was always hope.

"Okay, but um ... promise me you won't ever look in my closet."

"What? Huh, oh, well, sure." By this point, she had given up questioning his idiosyncrasies. Instead, she smiled, reached up, and playfully pushed his glasses up his nose. "You know, I think you look cute in those glasses."

* * *

"Mrs. Kramer?" Mengshi poked her head into the Kramers' office and, upon seeing that Edea was inside and available, hurried inside. "Here's your book back," she said. She set the art history textbook down on the desk. "Your suggestion worked great; it actually got through to Miang. And she's here, alive, again. Quistis took her to our house already."

Edea smiled. "Don't give me all the credit; you got through to Miang. And I think you should keep the book, so you'll have something to always remind yourself that we depend on each other."

"Thanks..." She hesitated. She couldn't change the topic, not when she still wanted to discuss this one, but she was not quite prepared to bring up a suggestion as audacious as hers. "And, someone else has already thought of this, I'm sure, but I was thinking..." Mengshi looked to Edea, seeking acknowledgment before she continued.

"Mmm?"

"...why couldn't we all be sorceresses? If I could give half my powers to Miang, couldn't we now each give half of what we have to someone else? And Rinoa could divide her powers too, and we could keep splitting them up into smaller and smaller pieces, so that everyone had a little bit of Hyne's powers. Imagine if everyone in the world was, say, one-ten millionth of a sorceress. Then Ultimecia could only possess this tiny little part of any of us ... so she wouldn't really be able to control any of us! We wouldn't need knights to protect us, and no one would have to carry the stigma and burden of being a sorceress, because everyone would be a sorceress. It would be like there weren't any problems with sorceresses at all!" She looked eagerly to Edea. "It would work, wouldn't it?"

Edea smiled. "I'm not sure, but that's certainly a very interesting idea. I'll give it some thought."

"Cid! Matron!" Selphie flew through the doorway and came to an unsteady stop, arms churning for balance, in the center of the room. The Kramers both knew what Selphie had come to say as soon as she stepped into their office. And they had no good answer ... because they had been wrong. "See, Yuffie was right," Selphie announced. "There really was a Mother Brain -" She stopped when she realized Mengshi was standing at Edea's desk. "- er, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Mengshi shook her head. "No, I think I'm done." She picked up the book. On the way out, she turned to Selphie and mouthed "Good luck." Selphie was a little surprised - after all, it had been Mengshi that had been the target of so much of the Free Yuffie Foundtation's wrath - but she also knew so much had changed in the past month.

Selphie took a deep breath and raised herself up on her tiptoes to begin her little speech to the Kramers. "Hi, Headmaster, Matron. I'm sure you know why I came to talk to you. But first I want to thank you for your advice. About the best way to change the world. I think I understand it now."

Cid smiled at her. "Sometimes choosing the wrong road is the best way to learn what the right one is."

Selphie nodded. "Yeah. And, um, you have to admit that you were wrong too. Yuffie really was trying to save the world, I guess. I mean, she told us about the black mages and the mice a month ago; she even had the day and the date right. I'll admit, I didn't believe her either, but..."

"...we all mistakes."

"Right." Selphie handed Cid a blank check. "And so I want to hire SeeD."

She basked in their stunned look for a second, then continued, "To break Yuffie out of the Desert Prison. So at least she can go home to Wutai. It couldn't take too many people. Zell and I'll work for free, and I can pay for the rest. Don't worry; I can afford it. We've raised a lot of money, and I've got some saved myself for a rainy day." She frowned. "And, well, every day is pretty rainy without Yuffie around."

Selphie looked hopefully to Cid. Would he accept this?

Cid passed her the check back. "Keep your money," he said with a kindly wink.

Next chapter: Fumbling Towards Ecstasy