Author's Note: This is meant as a sequel to Another Confessional, set a couple of days after the last entry there. This is in third person viewpoint, which was difficult to get back into. Anyway, I think it could stand alone without AC, but you tell me. Set after the shooting at the Mi'ihen Highroad.

Floorboards and Farewells

Rin was a businessman before he was anything else, be it Al Bhed, humanitarian, engineer, merchant, or floorboard installer. He prided himself on running a good business – good meaning one that kept the customers safe and happy and, most of all, returning – and never meddling with outside affairs. His Travel Agencies were his pride and joy; they were a meeting place for all the people of Spira, and on his hand-built floors people got along whether they were Al Bhed, Ronso, Guado, or Yevonite.

However, sometimes trouble found Rin before he could find a place in his budget for it. On this particular day, just before the sun had sunk fully below the horizon, three gunshots sounded outside his Travel Agency's door. No one was outside at the time to see the actual perpetration of the act, but the victims were hard to miss.

Rin's front desk worker had dragged in a woman covered in bloody handprints. Rin had carried the Al Bhed in, staining his fresh white shirt with the young man's viscous blood, dirtying his floor with mud and plasma gushing from a severe wound near the center of the victim's back. And Isaaru – a Summoner on his Pilgrimage – had been the one to carry in this man who was addressing Rin now.

"Our friend shot us," said the Yevonite, known as Baralai, his face transparently masking conflicting emotions. "It must have been an accident." His gaze kept falling on the bed on the other side of the room, looking worried.

"He's still recovering from all the lost blood," Rin told the dark-skinned man in a hushed tone to avoid waking the one who had been so brutally shot in his Travel Agency's front lawn. "The doctor and the Summoner say he'll be okay, but he'll need a lot of time to rest."

The young Yevonite had the strangest complexion Rin had seen in a long time. He had the olive brown skin of one of the deep-desert Al Bhed, but pure white hair that looked entirely out of place on such a dark body. Rin had idly wondered if something had happened to this young man that would have affected his hair color. He had certainly seen worse happen in his own rooms; memories of pulling frightened women out of the arms of drunken assailants still haunted his memories from time to time.

These were thoughts that no Al Bhed should consider, especially not when the subject of such thoughts was a Yevonite. Rin had no place in his brain for another simpering acolyte of Yevon, even if they did make up the largest percentage of his customers. However, when this particular instance of trouble brewed itself on his front lawn, he was forced to take action… and then he stood around for days as the victims healed and left, one by one. The girl had already risen and gone, leaving nothing behind her but a bit of her blood still caked between a couple of loose floorboards. Rin would have left after seeing her recovery, leaving the other two in the capable hands of his employees, but the Yevonite troubled him. It wasn't often that a young man obviously in the graces of Yevon saw such violence in such a public places. Also, Most Yevonites didn't get dragged in alongside a young Al Bhed with matching bullet wounds.

The Al Bhed had been in bad condition – Rin thought he recognized him, but from a time when the young man had possessed two eyes – the bullet wound had passed much closer to his heart and had nearly punctured one of his lungs. He was lucky to still be alive, but if he had been able to breathe like a Blitzer, he would never have that ability again. The Yevonite simply had a wound in his shoulder, which had been patched up by the Summoner Isaaru who had been passing though.

The white-haired one was in deep contemplation, staring into the room at the bed that carried the still-weak body of his companion. Finally, he spoke, his voice still hushed. "I cannot stay here much longer," he said, closing his eyes as though he weren't addressing the owner of the establishment. "Thank you for all your kind assistance."

Rin hadn't really been expecting to be thanked by this Yevonite – he certainly knew that it was a rare thing for a one of Baralai's kind to even look at an Al Bhed, much less thank him – and therefore didn't respond right away. He merely nodded. "Your friend will have shelter here for as long as he needs," he told Baralai. "You need not worry about his safety."

"I wouldn't worry, since he's in good hands." Leaving Rin staring blankly, Baralai stepped into the room and knelt by his friend's bed. Over the gentle fluttering of the curtains, Rin could hear snippets of the one-sided conversation.

"…just wanted everything to be okay… I heard what you said, I saw it… hope you aren't upset, but I have to."

Rin found his attention firmly on the floorboard of his Travel Agency. He remembered laying these floors himself at this, his first Agency, many years ago when he had to do his own work. Some part of him missed those days.

"Thank you again," said the Yevonite as he brushed past Rin through the door. Rin could hardly find any words to say as he watched Baralai's back disappear through the Travel Agency's front door.

Looking back into the room at the still-unconscious body of the Al Bhed, the last one of the victims in his Travel Agency, Rin crossed his arms. "Oui yna nadinhehk du Home, ouihk syh (You are returning to Home, young man)," he said, taking a step onto a creaky floorboard. The bedroom door squeaked as Rin closed it, and he made a mental note to tell his receptionist to take care of it. He looked back at the closed door, thinking of the unfortunate boy inside who should have hardly been on his way to becoming a man, and sighed quietly. "Oui ryja hu picehacc paehk fedr draca jeumahd Spirans (You have no business being with these violent Spirans)."