Well, here it is. Enjoy!

TITLE: Breaking the Ice
AUTHOR: Carmilla
EMAIL: carmilla99@hotmail.com
FANDOM: Final Fantasy VIII
RATING: R
DEDICATION: For my dear friend Kodansha on her birthday. This is exclusive to wherever you want to put it.
NOTES: This is the sequel to 'Skin Deep', this time from Fujin's POV.

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I'm not an ordinary girl. I make no claim to be. I never have. Maybe the weird looks I got as a kid, the jeering, being left out, getting called a freak, did me some deep psychological damage. I don't actually care. They made me what I am, and I happen to like being me.

I left home for Balamb Garden aged eight. No doubt my parents were glad enough to be rid of me. They had two other daughters to raise, pretty, delicate creatures who did what girls should do. They had neither the time nor the energy to worry about the awkward, gangly child, with strange red eyes and little interest in anything but fighting. I expect my two sisters were glad enough to say goodbye to the stranger in their midst, the silent one who haunted the house like a spectre from their fairytales, pale and morose. I wouldn't know. I haven't spoken to them since.

Of course, ordinary girls do train in the Gardens, plenty of them. It wasn't so unusual for girls to want to learn to fight, not since the Sorceress Wars. But few of them threw themselves into it the way I did. Few of them gloried in the tang of sweat and the bitter scent of blood, the adrenal highs and the draining exhaustion that were my greatest rewards.

Nothing comes without its price, of course, and I paid mine for my recklessness and arrogance when I was about thirteen. Going out of the grounds to train was stupid, and doubly so because I was alone, and not running when set upon by a pack of monsters I'd had no experience with was nothing short of madness. I killed them all, eventually, but I lost my eye. The pain was worse than anything had ever imagined, and I was so exhausted that I barely made it twenty paces from the carcasses before I collapsed. It was sheer luck that some people from Garden found me before the scavengers did, and brought me back.

After that, my life changed dramatically. Not as a direct consequence of my recklessness, but as a side-effect. They moved me to a class know unofficially as 'the trouble cases', so as to keep an eye on me - so to speak. And that was where I met him.

From my earliest childhood, I'd never been able to deal with people. My appearance, and probably my behaviour as well, ensured that my first encounters with children of my own age went less than smoothly. Once burned, twice shy, as they say; I shrank back from human contact, building barriers around me that would not let me get hurt again. It was about that time that I became obsessed with fighting, and also developed my unusual way of speaking - another shield to deflect unwanted closeness with people. An angry, self-assured loner, I had had plenty of time to cement my defences when I saw him for the first time. But he just walked straight into my life, and I felt my walls collapse around me.

He was arm-wrestling with a brawny guy called Raijin when I walked through the door on my first day in the new class. Rather to my surprise, he seemed to be winning as well. I knew Raijin slightly - despite his muscle-bound appearance, he was really a bit of a pushover, and one of the few people my age I could tolerate, if not like. But I'd never seen the cocky blond before.

I took the workstation at the back of the class. A space appeared around me as students scrambled to find somewhere else to sit, as far away from me as possible. I smiled at that, and was still congratulating myself on my fierce reputation when it was unexpectedly shattered.

"Mind if I sit here?"

He had taken the workstation next to mine before I had a chance to respond.

"I'm Seifer."

"FUJIN."

"Nice to meet you. What happened to your eye?"

"BATTLE."

"Since you're still here, I presume you won. I'd hate to see what happened to the other fella."

"FELLOW, NOT. MONSTERS. ALL DEAD."

"That's the longest sentence I've ever heard you say, ya know?"

Raijin had appeared at the desk in front of me, and turned to talk to us.

"SILENCE!"

I didn't mean to be quite so aggressive, but I couldn't bear his teasing right then. Seifer was smiling at me, and I wanted him to keep on doing it. The Instructor came in at that moment, however, so we all had to shut up.

After class, I was getting a few things together when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Seifer was standing over me, Raijin behind him.

"We're going to the cafeteria, wanna come?"

Just the once, I thought, there probably wasn't any harm in it. After all, I could always kick Raijin's butt if it turned out to be a trick.

"SURE."

And that was how the posse began.

I hadn't realised that I was less than happy being alone until I found how much I was enjoying my new friends' company. I grew rather fond of Raijin, in a sisterly sort of way, but it was Seifer that I was closest to. Inscrutable, infuriating, arrogant, charming, gorgeous Seifer. Both Raijin and I were just a little in awe of him, and more than happy to follow where he led. I didn't much care that we were never made SeeDs, though it was a constant source of frustration to Seifer. I was pretty sure I was within the ten best fighters in the school, people respected me, (or were scared of me, it came to much the same thing), and I had the posse. What else mattered?

But in the year he turned eighteen, Seifer began to change. Raijin still maintains that it was all the Sorceress' influence, but I saw it starting earlier, and found, to my frustration, I could only sit back and watch it take its course. I hate being helpless.

It started after his fling with that slut from Galbadia, Rinoa. I saw it then, but convinced myself I was just jealous. I wasn't above a little jealously, not where Seifer was concerned. I justified it to myself by saying I'd be blind not to be attracted to him, and mad not to want him. That that was all there was to it. I managed to convince myself - most of the time.

It was after his precious little flirtation that Seifer became more and more withdrawn, spending more time training and less time with us. He attempted the SeeD exam with increasing desperation, and as he continued to fail his temper grew shorter and shorter. He started taking risks, trying to buck the system - injuring his sparring partner, (not that the brat didn't deserve it), and cheeking the Instructors. Picking fights everywhere. And all the time, the only thing he would tell us was that he was looking for something, and couldn't find it - didn't even know what it was. And as many times as he told us, 'Fuck them all! I don't care! I'm my own person, and what they think doesn't matter,' I saw him lose a little piece of himself each time they rejected him again.

The next few months were nightmarish. The Sorceress, the attacks on the Gardens, the Lunar Cry; they were what made up everyone else's nightmare. But all I saw was my best friend swallowed up into his own dreams, losing himself in himself, and pushing us further and further away. Eventually I couldn't bear it. I had to break with him, before he broke my heart. I told him we were leaving, (Raijin stuck with me). I told him it was for his own good. I said I was sorry. It was the worst thing I ever did, to him or myself. It was the only thing I could do.

And then, suddenly, it was all over. He came back to us, seeming more his old self. We were told the Sorceress was defeated. And, much to our surprise, we were admitted back into the Garden, although things between us and the other students were rather strained. Come to think of it, though, they always had been.

I'm not an ordinary girl. If an ordinary girl's best friend made a pass at her, she would probably push him away. Maybe she'd be shocked, hurt, horrified. I'm no such fool. I never initiated one of those 'let's have a serious discussion about our relationship' talks; I never asked 'Is it just sex to you, or what?'. Maybe I didn't want to know. Maybe I didn't need to.

When he kissed me for the first time, I didn't stop to ask him 'Why?'. In a way, it almost seemed a natural progression of our relationship. After all, we'd done just about everything else together. We were friends who fought - why couldn't we be friends who fucked? OK, so it was more than that to me - infinitely more. But what it was to him didn't matter. Maybe he wasn't even really attracted to me. Maybe, after everything he'd been through in those past few months, he needed something to ground him in reality. Maybe he just fancied a quick screw, and I was the only one willing and able; I didn't care. I was there for him, that was what mattered. Not that I didn't enjoy it too.

I'd never had sex before him. Does that surprise you? Shock you, even? The worldly-wise, cynical, seen-it-all, done-it-all Fujin, a virgin? Oh, I was no blushing bride. Not naive by any means. I knew how it all worked. But he was the only one in the whole world I trusted enough to let that close to me, even on a purely physical level. It didn't make either of us drop all our defences, admittedly. In fact, the mental controls had probably never been more firmly in place. But that simple connection, rough skin contact, mingled sweat and fierce kisses - somehow, it kept us afloat, alive, dispelled the doubts we had about each other. The screaming orgasms weren't bad either. So we kept on doing it.

Maybe I could have gone on like that forever. Been friends by day and lovers by night. Never a word spoken about it. Just a simple need fulfilled. Maybe I could have done that, but he couldn't. I could see something building in him, just like I saw something building before he ran off to join the Sorceress. And, just as I did then, I decided the only thing I could do was wait for events to take their course, and help him after he'd done what he needed to do. Did I mention how much I hate being helpless?

It was about four months after our first encounter when it happened. I turned up at his door sometime after eleven at night. He let me in in silence. Usually that would have been the point when we started kissing. But instead, he led me to the sofa, and pressed a glass of wine into my hand. I nearly blushed - our first kiss had been in very similar circumstances. He sat in the chair opposite me, and stayed there, immobile, watching me, leaning forward with his hands clasped in front of him. It can't have been for more than a couple of minutes, but it felt like hours. The intensity of his gaze was almost frightening. I must have been nearly as still as he was. Though I was desperate to know what was going on, I couldn't bear to break the atmosphere of the moment. I felt something very important was about to happen.

When he finally started to speak, it was into his lap, his head down. The words came out in a rush, tumbling over each other. "Listen, Fuu, I need to say this to you. I can't be a proper boyfriend to you, I just can't. Can't give you everything you need, can't be what I should. Can't even let you know me properly, because I don't know me. There must be a million reasons why I should just let you get on with your life. Us being together properly, it wouldn't work. It would be stupid. It would be hopeless." He took a deep breath and looked me full in the face. "I want to try anyway. I want to do something right, for once. In the whole of my fucked-up existence, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I'd be crazy not to take full advantage of that. I want this to be real, even if it can't be. Do you think we could take a shot at it?"

I couldn't answer. How can you answer something like that? The ice blue of his eyes seemed to have melted, leaving his emotions exposed and plain to read. There was a vulnerability there that caught me by the throat. I didn't trust my voice. I just threw myself into his arms, and laid my head on his shoulder, loving the feel and the scent of him. He froze, then gathered me up, rocking me like a child, his head on mine. At last we let go, and I looked up at him.

"Love me?" His voice was a whisper. He didn't say 'please', but he might as well have done. That, at least, I could answer.

"ALWAYS," I said, fiercely. And then, gentler but no less certain, "Always."

He smiled at me, that smile that had always made my heart leap. Then his lips descended on mine.

It was completely different from any kiss we had shared before. They had been hot and fast, primal, kisses of raw lust. This was slower, sweeter, and so tender it left me breathless. But the passion that had been there before was not far away, and soon came back with a vengeance. By the time we broke apart, I could only gasp, "BED, NOW?"

He laughed at that, and I laughed with him, and before I knew it he had lifted me and was carrying me across the threshold and into his room, like a new-wedded bride.

If the kiss had been wonderful, the sex went beyond wonderful and right into the realms of indescribable. That sweet tenderness was with us still, lending a new dimension to the experience. He seemed as fascinated with my body as if it was the first time we had made love. I suppose in some ways it was. He ran his hands everywhere, laying his claim, possessing me. For the first time in my life, I surrendered totally to another person, lying trembling under his fingertips. And when I climaxed, I found myself screaming, "I love you, love you, LOVE YOU!", so that I was sure everybody within a ten mile radius heard me. Rather to my surprise, I found I didn't care. And it was as we lay together, spent but happy, one of his hands toying with my hair, that he finally found the courage to say it.

"Fujin? I love you, too."

An ordinary girl telling her life story would dwell on her childhood, her family, her friends, her ups and downs, failures and successes. An ordinary girl who had lived through what I've lived through would certainly make much of the major events of our time, the historic battles she'd witnessed, the great heroes she'd met. I don't care about major events, and I don't like heroes that much either - on the whole, they seem to be a dull lot.

I'm not an ordinary girl. And so my life story may appear to have events out of proportion. They're not. Great battles, great heroes - they're not my life. He is. I was dead to the world before I met him. He forced me to live. He forced me to love. And eventually, when all our icy walls had broken down, he let himself love me in return. So I don't want to be an ordinary girl. I just want to be his.