Part 1

Sunday was definitely the best day of the week.

There was also something to be said about Friday, however; the premonition of the coming weekend infected the Galbadia Garden students with enthusiasm and anticipation. Busy-minded youths fidgeted anxiously in too-slow-moving lectures, radiating their urgency in escaping. The afternoons were tense, hopeful, and filled with possibility.

Saturdays were always at a fast pace. There was always the endless bustling parade of assignments to finish, club meetings to attend, parties to plan. Quantity measured the end of the week--each student strove to complete as many tasks as possible, racing themselves down the corridors and paths. Not a moment could afford to be wasted.

Though the intensity and spirit of Garden's residents were its fame, there was nothing quite so gratifying as a lazy Sunday afternoon. Without the rushing the facility some called home became peaceful--even pleasant. Having at last pulled themselves out of well-deserved rest, teenagers strolled casually through the courtyards, admiring the relaxation brought on by a new week. To them, Monday's classes were eons away and irrelevant.

Irvine Kinneas was, without a doubt, a Sunday afternoon kind of guy. The quiet, gradual tempo was much more suited to his lethargic tastes. Every Sunday he chose a spot just beyond the courtyard, shaded by a broad-leafed oak, to spend his leisure time. Sleeping, meditating, and simply relaxing were his activities of choice--sometimes, when fortune smiled on him, a lady or two would join him in his reprieve.

On this particular Sunday Irvine sat alone beneath his leafy heaven, strumming idly on the strings of his guitar. The notes held no melody, the chords no patterns, but he didn't care. He was searching for the perfect sound. Any passer-by might have viewed him odd: the random sounds of the guitar combined with his appearance--brown leather pants, a vest, long coat, and cowboy hat--drew much attention to the ancient oak tree. He acknowledged only the female students that passed with a smile. Though usually he resorted to more heart-felt greetings, presently he wasn't interested in a flirtatious exchange. His impromptu music was enough company.

But, as it was Irvine, inevitably two fellow underclassmen took it upon themselves to invade his privacy: Neelie and Vale. "I didn't know you played the guitar," the latter commented with a grin.

"Well, I love surprising the ladies," he replied smoothly.

Neelie's eyes brightened as she giggled. Irvine liked her type--thirteen-year-old girls, him being only a year older. They were probably the most cheerful creatures on the planet. It was a special age, where friends became best friends, changes in lifestyle were made, the first date, the first kiss--so many expectations. They were all hopeful, curious, and eager, and he the perfectly willing target. "That's just like you, Irvine. Anything for us."

"And my two favorites, no less." He winked, rousing another round of giggles. "You have a stunning voice, Vale. Won't you sing something with me?"

Vale's cheeks reddened. "Actually, we're here to give you a message. Mr. Martine wants to see you. He says it's important."

Irvine rolled his eyes. "It always is. But, I wouldn't want to get you fine ladies in trouble, so I'll be off." He lifted the guitar strap over his head. "Neelie," he said, "you'll take this back to my room for me, won't you?"

"Sure, Irvine," she replied through more tittering. "I remember where it is." She shared a mischievous glance with her friend, who sighed with exasperation. "See you later. And good luck." The two girls stood and moved away, conversing in light tones. A couple times Neelie glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled.

Irvine waved, finally climbing to his feet as well. His muscles complained at the sudden animation, and he took a minute to stretch and prepare. A meeting with Martine was rare--he usually only dealt directly with the SeeD trainees. Whistling a cheerful tone, he returned to the Garden's interior.

"I'm reluctant to do this," Martine began once Irvine was situated in his office, "but I have an assignment for you."

Irvine straightened, genuinely surprised. Actual missions were reserved for graduated students and SeeD applicants--what could he possibly want a junior-classman for? More than that, Irvine had never participated in any field missions, or even complete training.

"Obviously you're reluctant, too," Martine noted critically.

"No, that's not it at all," he responded quickly. "I'm just honored, I guess."

The Garden Master snorted. "I owe you an explanation. The truth is, you're the best sniper we have." The boy in question had no protests. "Your skill has impressed your teachers, your peers, and me. The mission we've been hired to carry out requires distance and accuracy none of our graduates have. There's no time to teach anyone or adjust a suitable weapon. Are you willing?"

"Yes." The word leapt from his mouth before he comprehended its meaning. Though his exterior was calm and collected, his insides were quaking almost painfully. He was perfectly confident in his abilities, as he'd hunted every form of game on the plains. But his target would not be a violent Wednigo, or a mindless Jelleye. Snipers--especially SeeD snipers--were only requested for assassinations.

"Good. You've got a good head about you, Kinneas--except for some complaints by the femal students. Here are the details of the mission." He handed the youth a vanilla envelop. "You'll leave for Deling city in less than an hour along with two SeeD members, officers Tragon and Ellix. When you reach Deling you will be joined by another officer, McKlein. You'll be briefed by the officers along the way."

Suddenly feeling a bit queasy, Irvine merely nodded.

Martine looked his student over carefully. He must have noticed the boy's ill ease, for he continued in a significantly less militaristic tone. "Mr. Kinneas," he said evenly, "I know this is a lot of pressure on you, and it's not fair of me to ask. But we have no one else." Then he added, "If you miss, the other officers will attack the target directly, and you'll retreat. No one will blame you, no records will be kept. Are you up to this?"

Irvine licked his lips and nodded once. "Yes, sir. I'll do it."

"Good boy. You're due at the parking lot at 1100 hours. Tragon and Ellix will be there. Oh, and…" He looked the youth over. "…try to dress a little more inconspicuously."

Despite himself, the youth couldn't help but smirk. "Sure." The instructor snorted at his casual demeanor, and dismissed him.

As soon as Irvine exited the office, every one of his internal organs twisted into at least half a dozen knots. His hand against the wall only served to mildly offset his unbalanced state. SeeD, assassinations, mission briefings--he was only fourteen years old! Did Martine actually expect him to complete this mission, whatever it was? He stared down at the vanilla envelope that was fluttering in his grip, and bit his lip. The thought of killing a person whose photograph, history, entire life rested inside a crude binding of paper was eerie and nearly sickening.

Irvine retreated to his room before any of the other students noticed and questioned his discomfort. He didn't like his room much--it was too small, too confining. He stayed there only long enough to change his clothes as per Martine's suggestion: khaki pants and a denim jacket, though he couldn't bare to part with his hat. He reasoned that having it would serve to calm him during the operation.

He returned to the oak just beyond the courtyard. By then his apprehension had quieted somewhat, leaving him clearer. Not even the passing female students drew his attention as he pondered the events to come.

Deling City…it's pretty crowded there, so I'll have to aim carefully. He cast his gaze upward, practicing focusing on the individual leaves. If I miss… the others will take over. I guess that means I'll only get one shot. It'll have to be a good one. He lifted his right hand, curling his fingers save the index and thumb, and sighted a single bud on one of the tree's upper branches. "Bang," he whispered, mimicking the backlash of the imaginary pistol with the movement of his hand.

That's it. You've done this a million times before. Point and shoot. Irvine chose another target and repeated the process. Point, shoot. Dead. It doesn't get simpler than that. Who cares if it's a person? They wouldn’t hire me if the guy didn't deserve it.

Irvine sat up and reached for the envelope. Inside was a folder with the SeeD insignia stamped on the front. He flipped through the pages until he came upon a photograph. It was a man in his thirties, with bony features and a goatee. His eyes were the wide, protruding type that Irvine disliked; in fact, he disliked the man immediately. Even his name--Lucus Feisen--sounded villainous. He would be doing a great service by offing this guy.

Feeling more confident about the mission, he slipped the folder back into its envelope and made his way over to the parking lot.

Irvine liked Tragon immediately. He was a tall, lanky blond teen with the brightest emerald eyes he had ever seen. "Friends call me Ruby," he said as he shook Irvine's hand firmly. "Tragon, to dragon, to Ruby Dragon, to Ruby. You can, too, since we're partners."

"Irvine Kinneas," the youth introduced himself. Though both officers were several years older than him, their friendly dispositions made him feel like their equal. After all, in skill, he was.

Ellix wasn't quite as excited as his comrade, but he was pleasant enough. He looked like a typical SeeD: short brown hair, clean cut, well built. He had no nicknames to give. "We'll be meeting Roger McKlein in Deling," he explained he drove them away from Garden. Irvine was granted the privilege of riding shotgun, much to his satisfaction. "Did you read the report?"

"Not really," he admitted. "But I saw the guy."

"Ugly bastard, isn't he?" said Ruby, leaning forward between the two front seats. "Offing guys like that makes me feel like a hero, ya know?" He aimed his finger off into the distance and fired several imaginary shots. "Down goes the scum of the Earth. Know what I mean?"

"This is his first mission," Ellix remarked before the youth could speak.

"Yeah, right. You look older than you are, Kinneas." Ruby flashed him a grin. "I heard how you took out those Grendels last year. Not bad, for someone your age."

Irvine leaned back in his chair. He was definitely beginning to relax. "Just natural, I guess."

Both SeeDs couldn’t help but smile nostalgically at his arrogance. "He's just like you, Ruby," said Ellix. "But I have to admit, Kinneas; your records in impressive."

He grinned, but was careful not to let his pride overwhelm him. "So, are you gonna brief me or what?"

"Sure." Ruby flipped through his own copy of the SeeD folder. "Our target is Mr. Ugly Bastard, Lucas Feison. The word from McKlein is that a lot of people near this guy have checked out, all from the same medical condition: rotting from the inside out."

Irvine made a disgusted face. "We don't have to clean up after him, do we?"

Ruby laughed, but Ellix wasn't quite so tolerant of his humor. He took up the story. "Last night he was named the head of Ki-ban Electronics. Within hours nearly half of his employees had died." Ruby and Irvine quickly became more serious. "Since then he's confined himself in the main building, along with his ex-wife and several hostages. We're not here to negotiate. We take him out--that's Kinneas's job. If something goes wrong, Ruby, McKlein, and I will attack him head on with Kinneas providing cover. It's all straight forward and by the book."

His companions nodded. Irvine didn't realize he'd been staring straight ahead for some time until Ruby tapped his shoulder. "You okay, Kenny?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Fine." He shifted in his seat. "Just a little nervous, you know? My first real mission and all."

"Yeah, I remember my first mission." The blond laughed. "I choked! But the mission was a success, 'cause there were SeeD's backing me up." He slapped Irvine on the back. "So don't sweat it. We'll be watching out for you."

Irvine gave them both a thankful grin. "Thanks."

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