When the Moon Was Blue

By Fyre Byrd

When the moon was blue

The sea was made of lemonade

And my boat was a raspberry bun

And all the trees were golden cheese

Which melted in the sun

My wooden bed was a rocket instead

And took off one afternoon

On a very long flight that lasted the night

And landed me in the moon

(Only two verses of a children's rhyme whose author I am unfortunately unsure of)


It was a week for amazing events. Six people prevailed somehow against a Sorceress powerful enough to manipulate the ebb and flow of time.

Zell was one of them and that was an astonishing thing too.

Six people traversed the chaos of time that was melted and shaped by the Sorceress' mind to return home intact.

Perhaps even as remarkable Zell didn't choke to death or throw up from all the hotdogs he ate at the celebration today. Instead, he leaned on a stone balcony in the ballroom and wondered what ever happened to Seifer. Zell, looking out over the moon spangled water was fairly certain that Seifer wasn't dead. Surely, if Seifer ever snuffed it he'd do so with a bang. There would be some sign of the passing of someone so vibrant and dramatic and so damned full of himself.

Most people would have expected Zell to rejoice in Seifer's disappearance, but they would have underestimated his capacity for curiosity. Zell didn't really want to know Seifer's whereabouts because of any desire for justice or revenge, but just for the sake of knowing. Zell heard some students saying that they saw Seifer fishing on the docks of Balamb with the infamous Raijin and Fujin and Zell felt even more confused. Seifer, fishing? This made no sense at all.

As a finale to the celebrations at Balamb Garden, the mobile school dropped the six heroes off for leave wherever they asked. It was perfectly safe for Zell to ask to go to Balamb. He certainly intended to visit his mother after the harrowing events of his adventures anyway, but before he went home . . .

The Garden deposited Zell with his duffel bag just outside the town gates and he walked slowly through Balamb admiring the cobblestoned roads which glistened slightly from a brief rainfall earlier in the day. Everything had the scent of fresh rain which Zell inhaled deeply. The sea was sighing in a soothing way so Zell went down to the pier. Zell stood on the end of the pier with his olive duffel bag behind him at his feet and looked up at the stars imagining Seifer with a fishing pole and all those little lures with their brightly coloured feathers. It was difficult. Or Seifer ruthlessly jabbing worms with a hook. That was easier.

"Chickenwuss." Suddenly just as if Zell's thoughts had conjured him up there was Seifer, still wearing his pale gray coat and clutching a fishing pole in one hand and two buckets, one inside the other, in his opposite hand.

"Fishing?" Zell asked, pointing. He was still rather stunned.

"Naw, I thought I'd knit a sweater with it." Seifer sat down by Zell's feet, grabbed a helplessly wriggling worm from his bucket and impaled it cheerfully. In fact, he was whistling something catchy while he did it. Seifer cast his line into the water.

"So, come to finish me off then, have you?" Seifer asked, sounding completely unperturbed.

"No, the world doesn't revolve around you. I came to visit my Ma."

"Oh, so visit her already."

"Good to know your attitude hasn't changed."

"I'm surprised that your attitude has," Seifer replied. "Wasn't that your cue to start swatting flies and flinging threats? I'm disappointed."

"I'm a little tired of that," Zell said sitting down beside Seifer. "So, you nearly conquered the world, what next?"

"Thought I'd do a little fishing," Seifer waved his free arm at the set-up: water, buckets, fishing rod. It seemed a little obvious when he expressed it that way.

"That's all?"

"That's all."

"But . . ." Zell swung his legs back and forth over the water. "What about your dream?"

"It was stupid. I'm just a kid after all, not a knight, the joke's on me." Seifer laughed a little bitterly, but not without some genuine amusement at his predicament.

"I meant your romantic dream," Zell said, boldly. It was another thing he was itching to know and now seemed the time to ask.

"Oh, that. Thought I told you to mind your own fricking business the last time I mentioned it"

Zell looked over at Seifer's night shadowed profile and sighed. "So you did. I guess it was for Squall's ears only because it must be about him."

Seifer laughed unrestrainedly this time nearly dropping his fishing pole as he threw his head back and slapped his thigh.

"Squall? Mr. Icy Shorts? Oh, no thank you," Seifer turned to Zell, the mirth still sparking in his sea green eyes which looked like ink in the sparse light of the street lantern. He put down his fishing rod carefully. "My romantic dream goes something like this . . ." Seifer leaned over and sucked Zell's lower lip into his mouth, cupping Zell's cheek and grinning.

Zell thought his brain short circuited and invented a strange dream where Seifer's mouth was hot and wet and his teeth were tugging at Zell's lips and Zell was tingling and his stomach felt hollowed out and light. When Seifer let go and cocked an eyebrow challengingly, Zell kissed him back, feeling the stubble on Seifer's jaw scrape his sensitive lips and liking it. Then he thought to look up and see if the moon was blue.

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