This Is My Story
by Kin Ryu
It's late. I'm late and I just know that the Captain's gonna discipline me so badly. I come skidding to a halt in front of the door to the Lodge and burst in, sweat dripping off of my face, trickling down my neck. I knew I shouldn't have had that last camp out with Wakka, but we had needed the practice and thereby were near the ocean all night, kicking his blitzball.
Captain looks up at me, watching as I attempt to make my excuse between pants. My breath comes out heavily, in quick bursts and I have to sit down to be able to inhale properly. Eventually, I am able to explain my situation. He nods it off, we don't have time for discipline right now.
The ships will be here presently, the men of the village will be leaving and I'll be amongst them. We wait and check through our packs, making sure of the equipment we've brought with. I can hear some of the others testing their shields, pinging them with small hammers to make sure they are evenly strong. Others, I see, are strapping blitzballesque wristguards on, pulling the laces tightly and knocking them against edges of tables, walls, doors to register their resistance.
The man beside me pulls out his daggers, sheathing them and strapping around his legs, waist and ankles the binds. It reminds me, I've left my sword on the beach. Brotherhood. I pardon myself from the precedings and hurry along the trail, looking back and forth, in case I'd lost it on the way to.
Sand is disturbed where I can see the imprints of Wakka's feet alongside mine, he's gone back to our home. Continuously, I check the ground, under leaves and low branches, hoping to find my waterkissed weapon. There is no sign of it and I worry, hurrying back, hoping to find my brother.
When I return, he's not in the temple, praying, nor in his bed, sleeping more. I feel I've just missed him and I've no time to find him now, the Crusaders are leaving. Sighing uneasily, I pick up my bag and sling it over my shoulder, following the others who are already unseen over the edge of the hill.
The statue beside the road, I glance at it as I race by. I've not time for it either, no prayer to keep me safe. So I'll have to hope the love of my friends sees me through, for the time being.
Lulu catches sight of me and asks why am I not going to pray. I call back over my shoulder my lack of time. Blowing her a kiss, I turn the bend and head towards the beach again. A Condor attacks me from above, I swing my arm, adept with hand to hand fighting, and knock it to the ground, I deliver the killing blow.
My arm is scratched deeply. Tearing my shirt, I wrap it as tightly around the shoulder as one can while running, no less on a bumpy road. The white sand emerges under my feet, leaving me sliding for a brief moment while I rebalance. I board the ship just as they pull the anchors up and set the sails open for the wind.
This is it. This ... is my story.
The wind rustles my hair as I stand on the very front of the bow, my upper half leaned over the small barrier. I can smell the salt in the air, taste it on my tongue. This, this is what I was raised in, this is what I was raised for. The sea.
I find it hard to believe that this beautiful sight of blue, serene water could ever house such a destructive beast as Sin. But it does, and that, too, is what I was raised in, raised for.
Soon enough, my eagerness overflowing, we land at the port. Awaiting orders, we Crusaders stand, shoulder-width apart, in ordered lines. So this is what it is like to finally be on a mission to destroy Sin. To rid Spira of the menace of Yevon, what has been sent to punish us. The teachings are not the only way to repent. Sometimes, we must do it quickly, forcefully. Or maybe, this is not atonement, but self righteousness, belief that we have sincerely paid for the crime of machina. A thousand years is an awfully long time to continuously wipe a board of its mistakes. I can only imagine that we have used machina for so long, in such evil ways that we must still be punished.
As we wait, I can hear the sudden rush of water. Perhaps, it is my head swimming with my readiness to defend Besaid. To protect my brother, my sister, my love. I'm quite sure it isn't though. I know it is not my head when I hear people screaming and watch them run.
Sin has come to attack us. But, without our weapons, the machina we have decided to use, we are essentially useless. The few who have decided upon smaller instruments, daggers and blitzballs, are able to attack. The smallest portion of us, the mages, spend their energy quickly, casting spells, unprepared for this kind of battle. I can see Sin shiver as it deflects their attacks and ignores their arms. The 'balls fall to the ground and float away in the water, the dagger splash and sink, while the magic burns trees, melts sand and kills helpless animals.
As I see that massive hulking form come out of the water, its skin shimmers as the shield it wears is dropped to attack us. In those last few seconds, before the energy reaches me, I can feel the heat searing against my exposed arms, raised to protect myself. It is inevitable.
I will die here today.
I can only think of what the survivors will tell everyone. We died in a glorious battle. First day in a real fight, but we fought like demons, like trained warriors. All lies, but meant to comfort our family and friends. I can only imagine the tears that Yuna will shed, the ones that Lulu will hold back, the laughs at how brave I must've been from Wakka, the silent emotion that Kimahri will keep inside.
When I am hit, I feel an unadulterated peace. For some reason, I don't feel like I've died. Rather, I am on the edges of death and life, held on the wavering precipice between. Images appear around me, of a boy who looks almost identical to me when I was younger. His tears as the older styled blitzball falls in front of him, his foot swung past it, called my attention explicitly to him. Is this part of Sin?
Pain suddenly racks my body, races through my veins and I fall from my cliff edge, into the darkness of death. This is it. This was my story.
~*~*~
ANs: Inspired by the story That Moment by Bounter Hunter Lani (found on www.icybrian.com). This was the first story I read with Chappu still in it, then again, I just started reading X fiction the day I found it since I figured there wasn't much that could be spoiled for me, with how close I am to the end. I just thought I'd try and write what happened to Chappu from his PoV. Hope ya liked, R&R appreciated!
It's late. I'm late and I just know that the Captain's gonna discipline me so badly. I come skidding to a halt in front of the door to the Lodge and burst in, sweat dripping off of my face, trickling down my neck. I knew I shouldn't have had that last camp out with Wakka, but we had needed the practice and thereby were near the ocean all night, kicking his blitzball.
Captain looks up at me, watching as I attempt to make my excuse between pants. My breath comes out heavily, in quick bursts and I have to sit down to be able to inhale properly. Eventually, I am able to explain my situation. He nods it off, we don't have time for discipline right now.
The ships will be here presently, the men of the village will be leaving and I'll be amongst them. We wait and check through our packs, making sure of the equipment we've brought with. I can hear some of the others testing their shields, pinging them with small hammers to make sure they are evenly strong. Others, I see, are strapping blitzballesque wristguards on, pulling the laces tightly and knocking them against edges of tables, walls, doors to register their resistance.
The man beside me pulls out his daggers, sheathing them and strapping around his legs, waist and ankles the binds. It reminds me, I've left my sword on the beach. Brotherhood. I pardon myself from the precedings and hurry along the trail, looking back and forth, in case I'd lost it on the way to.
Sand is disturbed where I can see the imprints of Wakka's feet alongside mine, he's gone back to our home. Continuously, I check the ground, under leaves and low branches, hoping to find my waterkissed weapon. There is no sign of it and I worry, hurrying back, hoping to find my brother.
When I return, he's not in the temple, praying, nor in his bed, sleeping more. I feel I've just missed him and I've no time to find him now, the Crusaders are leaving. Sighing uneasily, I pick up my bag and sling it over my shoulder, following the others who are already unseen over the edge of the hill.
The statue beside the road, I glance at it as I race by. I've not time for it either, no prayer to keep me safe. So I'll have to hope the love of my friends sees me through, for the time being.
Lulu catches sight of me and asks why am I not going to pray. I call back over my shoulder my lack of time. Blowing her a kiss, I turn the bend and head towards the beach again. A Condor attacks me from above, I swing my arm, adept with hand to hand fighting, and knock it to the ground, I deliver the killing blow.
My arm is scratched deeply. Tearing my shirt, I wrap it as tightly around the shoulder as one can while running, no less on a bumpy road. The white sand emerges under my feet, leaving me sliding for a brief moment while I rebalance. I board the ship just as they pull the anchors up and set the sails open for the wind.
This is it. This ... is my story.
The wind rustles my hair as I stand on the very front of the bow, my upper half leaned over the small barrier. I can smell the salt in the air, taste it on my tongue. This, this is what I was raised in, this is what I was raised for. The sea.
I find it hard to believe that this beautiful sight of blue, serene water could ever house such a destructive beast as Sin. But it does, and that, too, is what I was raised in, raised for.
Soon enough, my eagerness overflowing, we land at the port. Awaiting orders, we Crusaders stand, shoulder-width apart, in ordered lines. So this is what it is like to finally be on a mission to destroy Sin. To rid Spira of the menace of Yevon, what has been sent to punish us. The teachings are not the only way to repent. Sometimes, we must do it quickly, forcefully. Or maybe, this is not atonement, but self righteousness, belief that we have sincerely paid for the crime of machina. A thousand years is an awfully long time to continuously wipe a board of its mistakes. I can only imagine that we have used machina for so long, in such evil ways that we must still be punished.
As we wait, I can hear the sudden rush of water. Perhaps, it is my head swimming with my readiness to defend Besaid. To protect my brother, my sister, my love. I'm quite sure it isn't though. I know it is not my head when I hear people screaming and watch them run.
Sin has come to attack us. But, without our weapons, the machina we have decided to use, we are essentially useless. The few who have decided upon smaller instruments, daggers and blitzballs, are able to attack. The smallest portion of us, the mages, spend their energy quickly, casting spells, unprepared for this kind of battle. I can see Sin shiver as it deflects their attacks and ignores their arms. The 'balls fall to the ground and float away in the water, the dagger splash and sink, while the magic burns trees, melts sand and kills helpless animals.
As I see that massive hulking form come out of the water, its skin shimmers as the shield it wears is dropped to attack us. In those last few seconds, before the energy reaches me, I can feel the heat searing against my exposed arms, raised to protect myself. It is inevitable.
I will die here today.
I can only think of what the survivors will tell everyone. We died in a glorious battle. First day in a real fight, but we fought like demons, like trained warriors. All lies, but meant to comfort our family and friends. I can only imagine the tears that Yuna will shed, the ones that Lulu will hold back, the laughs at how brave I must've been from Wakka, the silent emotion that Kimahri will keep inside.
When I am hit, I feel an unadulterated peace. For some reason, I don't feel like I've died. Rather, I am on the edges of death and life, held on the wavering precipice between. Images appear around me, of a boy who looks almost identical to me when I was younger. His tears as the older styled blitzball falls in front of him, his foot swung past it, called my attention explicitly to him. Is this part of Sin?
Pain suddenly racks my body, races through my veins and I fall from my cliff edge, into the darkness of death. This is it. This was my story.
~*~*~
ANs: Inspired by the story That Moment by Bounter Hunter Lani (found on www.icybrian.com). This was the first story I read with Chappu still in it, then again, I just started reading X fiction the day I found it since I figured there wasn't much that could be spoiled for me, with how close I am to the end. I just thought I'd try and write what happened to Chappu from his PoV. Hope ya liked, R&R appreciated!