His head didn't move after the slap made his neck turn toward the right. The pain in his cheek was welcomed. He deserved it, in a way. Listening to Firion's tirade, Squall bit back a sigh and forced himself from shrugging. Firion was always one of the more emotional warriors from the Conflict, he knew that but he never experienced the Weapon Master's first hand.

Not until now. Firion was laying out everything on the table, so to speak. Everything the weapon master felt, he was yelling it at Squall. It was something, Squall wasn't used to. He never thought much about emotions, having spent so long trying to be a literal Ice King. At least until Rinoa happened.

During the Conflict, he was forced into survival mode, falling back on years of conditioning to try and keep his emotions at bay. His only intention bent on finishing his mission, on finding his crystal and heading back home (if he had a home left; just because they defeated Ultimecia, it didn't mean that his time was stable, that he could go back to Balamb and find everything alright and normal).

Slowly, he turned his head, staring at Firion for a moment. "It's not a matter of you blaming me. It's about me blaming myself." His lips twitched lightly (wryly), "I was used, abused--manipulated. I did something I shouldn't have. My control should have been better. And yet, these things..."

He jerked his head toward his ghost pokemon, "They took that all away from me. They slipped under my defenses and made me attack an ally, a friend. I prided myself on my strength but I wasn't strong enough. In the end, I wasn't strong enough to stop myself.

"Don't know why you care about me. I was never that nice to you, any of you. We only fought together for the same cause. Nothing else, nothing more. We never traveled together, either, Firion. And you care about me? Why?"