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Vague Memories





"You're bigger'n me," Seifer growled up at Leon, pretending that he wasn't acting like some six year old.

Leon raised an eyebrow, his lips curling up in a catlike gesture. "Yes," he agreed, looking down at the younger boy, "I am."

"You're not supposed to, you frigid bastard."

Leon's smile seemed to grow into something predatorily. "Why do you say that?"'

Seifer huffed, memories of something flitting behind his comprehension, "You're s'possed to be shorter 'n me."

Leon tugged his black beanie down over his eyes, ignoring the not-quite memories that felt like being pressed against a wall that read "Training Center," and then devoured by a tall, muscular blonde.

"We'll get you a practice blade."

"Wha-?!" Seifer's mind jumped to the thought of having his own blade, a gunblade in his hand, of being just as cool as Leon.

In the back of his mind, he almost heard the whispered 'Puberty Boy.'