We're posse. Nothing can change that.

[womanoffewwords]

Who: Fujin and Seifer
What: Two thirds of a posse is better than no posse at all - Post-canon-change-madness drama
When: After this
Where: The Hotel that Never Was, Seifer's room
Warnings: A somewhat recalcitrant Seifer? *gasp* No way! Also, Fujin's speech patterns.

It had been hard enough the first time, leaving Seifer to Leonhart and his friends when

Comments

[incendite]

For Seifer, it had been what had come after that week that had been the worst. To have to remember that he'd been that much a jerk to his posse (or what there was of it) not once but twice? That was once more than he could really stand, and so after careful consideration of what sort of things he might say to bring up the conversation that should have happened he simply threw up his metaphorical hands and decided to ignore the problem.

If he ignored it hard enough he wouldn't have to bring it up, right?

Still, that didn't mean he particularly liked hearing the sound of someone knocking on his door. "Don't bother."

By which he mostly meant 'it's open'.

[womanoffewwords]

If Fujin had had two eyes, she would've rolled both of them at the call from within. Instead, it was just the one before she pushed the door open. Of course he was being an antisocial idiot.

Stepping into the room, she closed the door quietly behind her, then crossed her arms, just watching the man.

[incendite]

Hey, being an antisocial idiot worked for Squall. ...Most of the time. And with an elephant this large sitting in the room, he was finding it rather hard to find a good reason to be anything but.

Except for the fact that Fujin was standing in his room, and even with that, it took him a while before he actually managed to speak up.

"Yeah. I know."

[womanoffewwords]

She just watched him for a while longer, then sighed, shaking her head and crossing her arms. Fujin knew, for all his faults, Seifer wasn't a bad person, and didn't mean to hurt his friends. She also knew that when he did, he would beat himself up over it endlessly. It was her job to smack some sense into him until he got over it and went back to being his old, lovably antagonistic self.