Disclaimer: Wild Arms 3 and all related characters are not mine.

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Uses

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"Leehalt," said Malik.

He spoke anxiously, but Leehalt was still paying him no attention. He was focused on watching the couple down the table and wasn't interested in anything else.

"What do you want, Malik? I'm busy."

"Don't worry, I'll be gone soon. I just saw you sitting here on your own and thought you could do with the company. And I can see I was right in what I saw and that you're really not right at all…"

"Malik, go away."

Malik said nothing and left the dining hall. Leehalt's heart was thumping with rage. Ekatrina and Werner were giggling now, inconsiderate of other's feelings, a man and woman in love. His were the lips she should be kissing, not Werner's. It made him sick. His fingers drummed the table, and their nails and their rhythm and their noise drew angry eyes.

"Please, could you tell me what the problem is?" Werner said. "You've been doing that for the last half hour."

Leehalt looked at Werner, and Ekatrina, suppressing his anger. But it showed; his fingers rattled more for emphasis, he shifted in his chair, and his right foot tapped rhythmically on the cold hard floor. The atmosphere was disturbed by Malik's voice coming from the kitchen; he was singing. Leehalt relented and reached for that morning's paper.

"I should be going or I'll miss the train," said Ekatrina. "Werner, please come home soon; Virginia's been asking for you. It's her birthday in two week's time and it'll be nice if you're there."

"Yes, go. Throw yourself under the train whilst you're at it. Just don't block the line for the rest of us," said Leehalt, and he pretended to roll his eyes dismissively as Werner jerked his chair back.

"Grow up!" he said. "For a man who values intelligence, you're acting like a child." He touched his forehead. "Ah, but I forget; you're not happy unless someone is miserable."

The paper lowered.

"Surely it's better to deem one's father to be dead than to grow up unloved, wondering where he is as the months roll past." Leehalt thumbed through the newspaper. "Months turn into years, Maxwell. Your wife's presence is unwanted. If you're unprepared to put your work above your family, both of you should leave."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Werner said, and his voice rose. "This work, Leehalt, what do you think it's for? It's for our families, our future. You were my friend, you were my equal. How could things go so wrong?"

"I was never your friend," Leehalt said. "You confuse association with tolerance. I have friends. I have plenty. But you're not one of them, and you have only yourself to blame."

"Malik and Melody? Leehalt, that's not plenty. One's a child and the other's a recluse."

Leehalt rose from the end facing the shelves and ran his hand along the surface, his fingers moving almost too quickly to see, grasping for several seconds as the thought of throttling Werner's neck came to mind. He was tired of being the fool: he'd lost Ekatrina, and Maxwell surpassed him in everything he held dear. But Werner lost his temper more easily, said things he didn't mean; that made him vulnerable.

"I trust Malik and Melody," he said quietly, and he spotted Malik watching from the kitchen. "But you don't. I trust them with my life."

At this time Malik came bounding in, a cup in his right hand and a clutch of biscuits in the left. He occupied Leehalt's seat and plonked his feet on the table.

"Damnit," he said, and the feet came off, "I forgot the sugar." They went back on, "Eh, they're chocolate anyway so..."

And with that he took a long gulp of Humphrey's finest blend into his mouth.

"Ah! Hot!"

He looked around, evaluated the situation and said, "Would anyone care for a biscuit?"

Leehalt said nothing. He took his paper and folded it under his arm.

"I'm going," he said.

Werner stepped forward. His left hand raised. "We're not finished yet."

"I work with you, Maxwell. But how I choose to spend my time is nobody's concern but mine. Here, read this."

The paper landed on Malik's face.

"I'm going out."

But before he left, Leehalt looked back at Malik. A kindful thought prompted him to make a visit later, and just briefly he thought perhaps there was someone out there other than Ekatrina. Not a lover, not a child, but someone who was loyal. A person who would do whatever you said, without question, and never betray you. One who, if used, would be happy to follow you to the end. A person like that was all he needed.