Mildly introspective Squall... A dream.
He heard the sound of the waves crashing, a loud hushing sound that made everything but a whisper sound harsh and intruding. He tried not to talk to much or to ask too many questions. He never got answers.
He asked anyway.
"How do I survive?" He'd whisper, just as he was supposed to. More hushing sounds as the cool, clear water lapped at his feet. The ocean breeze kissed his cheeks and made a mess of his hair.
"How do I fix it? ...How do I fix me?" he asked, a little louder now, in his child's voice.
"You always ask the wrong questions," A man answered. He knew this man. It was Seifer, tall and fierce and more than a little stronger.
"The wrong person. The wrong questions. Don't you ever learn?" Seifer's voice was almost curious. Almost.
"Do you know?" Squall murmured. His mouth was set in a thin line, eyes defiant.
Seifer quirked one brow and smirked. "That would be telling , wouldn't it, Squally boy?"