Chapter Text
It wasn’t often these days that Squall got a day off. As Commander of the Balamb Garden, every day was a constant circuit of diplomacy, politics, paperwork, and student discipline. Today was a rarity for the young man, so he decided to ditch his plans of visiting the training center and instead allow himself to rest. It wasn’t until Rinoa offered him a blanket on the couch that he realized how tired the constant mental strain had made him. Just as he was about to lay down and watch the Chocobo Herding Competition currently on TV, Squall heard the distinct beep of his phone ringing on the kitchen table. He slowly got up from the comfort of his couch and walked to pick up his phone. A look of disdain painted his face when he read the caller’s name.
“Who is it?” Rinoa inquired from the couch, poking her head up from where she was laying.
“Laguna,” Squall replied as if he was allergic to the name. His brain was telling him to not respond, and simply send his father’s call to voicemail. Despite this, his traitor hand picked up the phone and pressed the call button.
“Hello?” Squall spoke into the phone with his usual lack of enthusiasm.
“Squall! I’m so happy to hear from you, how’s it going man?” an elated Laguna responded.
“If this is a diplomacy call, let’s just cut to it,” Squall stated flatly. He really was in no mood to beat around the bush, and wanted to return to the couch where his girlfriend was laying with her dog.
“Oh, gosh no! Not today,” Laguna answered. “Today’s matters are a lot more personal.”
Oh Hyne, what emotional vomit is gonna be spattered all over me today, Squall thought to himself.
“I wanna take you and your friends on a trip to Fisherman’s Horizon this weekend. I wanna get to see a piece of your life, and catch up on some father-son time,” Laguna proposed.
Squall groaned internally. Since the revelation that Laguna was his father, the long-haired man was trying just about anything he could to spend time with Squall. He’d never be able to forget the abandonment and subsequent shock of finding out his father was still alive, but making up for lost time was the best he could do. This would all be well and good, except Laguna’s ideas of bonding time were... interesting. Did he offer Triple Triad, a training session with some monsters, or something related to Squall’s hobbies? Nope. It seemed Laguna didn’t really have much of a grasp of Squall, and was throwing ideas at a wall and seeing what stuck. Among his previous attempts included arts and crafts, wine tasting, a musical, and bar hopping. The latter was worst of all as a tipsy Laguna dare tried to drag Squall into karaoke. Squall walked out of the bar, and their call in the morning was painfully awkward.
“So you want to take me fishing?” Squall replied skeptically. He didn’t know what else it could’ve been, after all Fisherman’s Horizon is notoriously sparse.
“Not quite,” Laguna broached, seemingly just now realized Squall could hang up at any moment. “You see, Fisherman’s Horizon actually has a up-and-coming drag scene, and I was thinking it would be a fun ide-“
“You cannot be serious,” Squall retorted, slapping his palm to his face.
“What does he wanna do?” Rinoa asked, walking over to Squall as he held the phone. “Hi Laguna!”
“Good morning Rinoa, nice to hear from you,” Laguna replied with a perk. He was quite fond of Squall’s girlfriend, and took every stride to make her feel like part of the family. Squall found it a bit much, but he supposed it was far better than how Rinoa’s father would barely acknowledge either of them.
“I was just telling Squall, I wanna take you guys to a drag show in Fisherman’s Horizon. There’s a troupe there that’s putting on a show and I think it would be fun to watch,” Laguna explained.
“Oh my GOSH I would love to go!” Rinoa piped with excitement. Squall looked over with exasperation, silently wishing Eden would take him now.
“That’s gonna be hilarious to watch, Zell’s face is gonna be priceless!” Rinoa beamed over to her boyfriend, contrasting the alarm written on his face.
“Laguna, how did you land on this when neither of us know ANYTHING about drag?” Squall asked incredulously.
“I actually know a thing or two, thank you very much,” Laguna retorted, now his turn for exasperation. “Kiros and Ward actually were big in the Esthar drag scene back in the day, and I dabbled here and there. Think of it as a little peek into my world.”
“Like I need more of those,” Squall mumbled, earning a smack from Rinoa.
“Squall, be nice,” Rinoa admonished, before cheering up her tone. “We’ll be there Laguna. Send us the dates and I’ll get the whole gang there!”
“I can’t wait to see you guys, later!” Laguna cheerily hung up the phone, and Rinoa turned to Squall, now staring at his phone with the intent to destroy it.
“You seriously want to go on this trip where he’s gonna put me through a trial of boredom?” Squall complained.
“He’s trying to reach out and spend time with you, Squall,” Rinoa responded patiently. “I know it’s not exactly what you want it to look like but I think it’ll be good for you. I’ll be there for you the whole time.”
“...Whatever,” Squall replied, walking back to the couch and cocooning in his blanket once more.
The weekend came far faster than Squall wanted it to.
The commander finished packing his bags and walked out from his dorm as Rinoa buzzed excitedly in the hallway. The group was scheduled to board Ragnarok early in the morning, so the young man was barely running on the coffee he brewed in a rush. Rinoa was already wide awake, having dropped Angelo off with Xu for the weekend just a bit earlier. Squall was still not thrilled about the trip, but it was too late to back out now. Plus, Rinoa was enthusiastic, which made this whole ordeal a bit more bearable for him. He softly smiled as he took his girlfriend’s hand and walked with her to the elevator.
“You’ll enjoy it,” Rinoa assured. “I’ll do everything I can to keep you comfortable.” Squall squeezed her hand and softly replied, “Thank you.”
The couple exited the elevator on the first floor, beginning their walk to the parking lot. Squall politely nodded to the greetings of students walking to their first classes of the day, and next to him, he could feel Rinoa jittering with excitement.
“Commander,” an even-keeled voice greeted from behind him. He turned around to see Quistis, suitcase close by as she briskly walked towards the couple, nodding towards them both.
“Good morning,” Squall greeted followed by a “Hi Quisty!” from Rinoa.
“How’d you get wrangled into this one?” Quistis asked cheekily, the contrast between the couple’s moods evident to her.
“Rinoa said yes to it before I could stop her,” Squall replied with a deadpan stare.
“Meanie,” Rinoa retorted in jest, squeezing Squall’s hand to assure him that she’s not being serious.
“Well I’m excited,” Quistis replied with a chuckle. “I’m curious to see what the drag aesthetics are over there.”
“This interests you?” Squall asked with surprise. He’d never heard anything of the sort from his no-nonsense academic director.
“Yes, actually. I go to the drag shows in Balamb all the time, and I’ve heard the drag varies from location to location. The show we're going to is by a well-known troupe there, and per the show’s flyer, a Balambian queen is going to be a special guest.” Quistis explained.
“....Huh,” Squall replied, unsure what to do with this new information. Before he could respond, an energetic blonde joined their side, hot dog in hand and wearing his travel bag.
“Yo! Dude! This is gonna be hilarious, why did Laguna think you would enjoy this? I mean, I don’t actually know much about drag beyond that FH drag is derived from Esthar’s drag scene. But that’s about it. I’ve never been to a show like this,” Zell rambled, forgoing a greeting and instead joining his friends by hopping in the conversation.
“Very informative, Zell,” Squall replied sarcastically. “I really don’t know what he was thinking. I mean, I never do, but especially not now.”
“At worst, it makes for a funny story,” Quistis offered.
“Uh huh,” Squall pondered, “a funny story.” The group continued their walk towards the parking lot where Ragnarok was stored. As they entered, they heard the engine rumbling, meaning Selphie had already arrived to pilot the party there. Laguna probably had a private jet or something fancy to get him to Fisherman’s Horizon. Squall didn’t care to know. Of course, when Selphie was present, Irvine was not far behind. The group found him finishing a joint by the ship’s entrance. Squall grimaced immediately.
“What did I say about pot on the Ragnarok?” Squall asked impatiently.
“Commander, I am outside of the ship. Besides, it’s all done and I need it to help with my flight anxiety,” Irvine responded, knowing he cleverly found a loophole to the commander’s chagrin. Squall put his fingers to his temples and took a deep breath.
“...Whatever” escaped the commander’s mouth as he and Rinoa boarded the ship, their friends a couple footsteps behind. He could hear Quistis telling Zell and Irvine about the history of FH drag, continuing her explanation from earlier. Rinoa squeezed his hand once more to alleviate some of the tension he could already feel forming in his body. As they entered the cockpit, they heard Selphie excitedly mumbling to herself about “Sir Laguna” and “drag this” and “drag that” and “Esthar’s Drag Race.” Whatever that meant. Selphie saw the group entering and ran to give them all hugs.
“I’m so excited to see Sir Laguna! Booyaka!” She exclaimed as he squeezed Squall in a suffocating hug. He forgot how strong Selphie was, despite her short stature. Eventually, she made her way to Rinoa, and Squall’s ribs could breathe freely once more.
“This is gonna be so exciting, I can’t wait to see this troupe perform! I also get to watch a father and son rebuild their bond? Eeeeeeeeek! It’s all to adorable,” she continued joyfully, moving to Zell and Quistis, both grunting from the sheer force of her hug.
“Takeoff time is near, Sef,” Irvine reminded, hugging his girlfriend as he took the front seat next to her. Selphie took her seat as the pilot, preparing for takeoff
“Fisherman’s Horizon, here we come!!!” Selphie hollered, lifting Ragnarok off the ground and toward its destination.