He wants to hate this man. Wants to hate him for some great injustice done unto Seifer. He played a hand in it, didn’t he? With all the sage advice he so graciously instilled into Seifer. All the teachings, these soft little words of wisdom…
As much as Seifer feels compelled to be combative, he has enough sense in that thick skull of his to know he would be in the wrong. In what could be conveyed as only the rarest of gestures Seifer could ever give to another, pride is swallowed as his eyes fall to the floor, conceding an argument before it could begin.
Cid didn’t linger long, and Seifer would only flash those blue-green eyes for but a flash before he’s off, seemingly directionless until he comes to the far wall across the spacious office, taking in the full view of the Gaulg mountain range from that astonishing floor-to-ceiling view.
In due time, he surmises. It isn’t like Seifer has anywhere to go. Seifer had followed, seeming directionless now that his agitation had been diffused. He made his way around the room with a slow gait, never one to stand still for too long, notably along the far wall where he had a full floor-to-ceiling view of the mountainside. For a moment, one could forgive Seifer for his sins– seeing that boyish wonder, drenched in sunlight as he took in that breathtaking sight. It never got old, that view…
But oh, what soft utterance is this–? Be it an accusation or an admission of knowing something about Seifer…? Like a dark cloud looming on the horizon, the setting sun falls into obscurity, and that orange glow Seifer had just been bathed within goes with it.
Seifer’s arm moves to hold the other from behind his back as he listens intently, quiets– not like that of a guilty man, but that of a wise one; desiring to know the reasoning for Cid to say what he did – but does he really mean what he says?
He won’t dismiss him. The cryptic message was received, but Seifer couldn’t react on it. Not here. Not now. Not with Cid– ever.
Instead, he offers a humorless chuckle.
“We’ve been through the proceedings– twice now, they believe that it’s ‘too great a risk to impart me SeeDship’–” Ah, he needs to correct, “Never mind my experiences. It’s just too bad for PR to have their criminal ward out doin’ something besides roaming the countryside smashing up Geezards and collectin’ screws because let us be honest here, Cid, that’s all they’d ever have me doin’ anyway, so what’s the point?”
Cid watched Seifer for a beat, observing the defeat in his features, the sort of passive acceptance of this bleak notion that the world would never see him as anything other than a criminal. The older man’s lips pressed into a thin, patient smile as his chin took a dip toward his chest, one hand releasing the edge of his desk and scratching idly at the graying hairs of his temple.
“Ah, yes... the point,” he redoubled thoughtfully, drawing in a lung-full and releasing it in a wistful sigh as he regarded the blonde once more. “The point I had hoped to make is that it seems truly a pity to let yourself be defined by the damnation of others,” he stated simply, folding his arms over his stout chest.
“You’ve always made your own way, one way or another — never much caring about anything I or my subordinates did to steer you to the contrary,” he chuckled. “You’ve had a strong head on you, ever since you were a child. I’ve always admired that about you,” he admitted, no attempt to hide the genuine fondness in his voice, hoping it might impart some sort of noteworthy sincerity to his next appeal. “Would that I had been a stronger man, Seifer... I fear I let NORG’s influence steer this school and the fates of those within it too far off course,” he shook his head, waving a hand dismissively as he quickly added “I still don’t intend to fill the air with my regrets, but I do wish you to understand me a bit better, if you will. To understand that not everyone seeks to punish forward-thinkers and those who do not fit neatly in boxes,” he tucked his hand back into the fold of his arm.
“When they brought you back after the war, Edea was beside herself with guilt and grief. She could not stand the thought of you in that cell alone for the rest of your life while her marriage to me and her unwitting possession granted her amnesty. She begged me to do anything I could — anything in my power to get you out of there. And she wasn’t alone; I don’t think I’ve ever seen young Mr. Leonhart so convicted about anything in his entire life,” Cid chuckled once more.
“But as much respect and adoration as I hold for both of them, there would have been no amount of appeal that would have swayed the Administration had I felt you were guilty — truly guilty. I have many flaws, I’m afraid, but you see I’m a poor, poor liar,” he explained with a not-quite-regrettable shake of his head.
“Six months later, here you were,” he shrugged with a smile, gesturing to the room around them as if even this small space could represent a victory of freedom, “returned to our care. No lies necessary.”
Cid trailed off, his smile fading some as he watched the male’s expression. “I wanted so much more for you than this — day and night I argued more for you than this— but my word does not command the respect and influence it used to, I’m afraid.”
He pushed himself off the desk and took a few ambling steps toward the younger man, pausing just shy of his shoulder, gazing up at him. “That’s why the responsibility rests on you now to show them that your sentence does not define you, no matter how much they’d like to fit you into their little screws and scraps boxes...” he reached up, resting a hand on Seifer’s shoulder. “Make it impossible for them to cast you aside,” he squeezed the other’s shoulder, leaning in a bit to catch his eye.