Enjoy...

Your Sky is My Sky

Children didn't know what love was and she was a child. She had never kissed a boy, only her brother and her father who lay in his bed, ghastly and painfully sick. Children were the life in the future world and she was the only remnant of her family. Her mother had fallen mortally ill shortly after the war, and after she had learned of her son's death. Children bestowed joy and laughter and happiness upon the atmosphere, but in Rabanastre, once known as the Royal City, presently called "Home of the Orphans", such a notion was a complete lie.

War assured the death of the innocent. Merciless acts of ending the life of a fellow being, trained to never just think of the potential nieces and nephews, sisters and brothers, sons and daughters who expected their loved ones to walk home unharmed. She understood this.

When her brother went into the war, she knew, somewhere in the bottom of her hollow and strained heart, she'd never hold his hand again, only hear the fading sound of his voice her mind's ear remembered. When her father was taken by the plague that had enveloped Rabanastre, she knew, somewhere in her churning stomach, that he was going to die staring at her, yet proud that she was holding on to her fading family. And then, her mother passed away, kissing her daughter's blond hair. She shed her tears for each and came to a realization.

There was so much one could do simply by herself, but it required the presence of another to understand that inner strength one harbored, and even if they went away or died quietly forever, that piece of them, their presence that could emit so much from another would forever be etched on that person. They'd be forever touched by it.

That was genuine and pure love. She was a child and the world was wrong. Children knew what love was, they only believed they didn't because everyone, even the very person they looked up to, told them so. Penelo knew. Her family gave her the strength realize it and she understood this.

But there was one boy who was ignorant of his own knowledge. Even being around Penelo, feeling her presence, he had no inner strength.

"People die because the world doesn't care, especially during war."

That may be true, boy. The world may be a cold and cruel, systematic cycle of hardship, but nothing can change it. People die because it is apart of life. People die because people don't care.

"Rek is . . . gone. He's not coming back."

But you loved him. You felt that presence, and your conscious and body understood the power of yourself. When he left you, the rope of his presence vanished only because you thought it did.

And he thanked Penelo later for seeming to know so much. He thanked her for making it easier to accept what had happened. She loved him and he felt the same way, but he did not want to feel the presence Penelo was offering. They were so young and homeless and hungry and parent-less. They had only each other.

"Why are you crying?" It was raining. She was huddled on the ground and he was kneeling beside her.

"Because I can't stop," she replied.

"What made you cry?" he asked. She took a moment to reply.

"The past. . . ." He rubbed her shoulder, all-too-knowing of the emotions their past generated in the present. It was funny, he figured no one could truly let go. Mentally or physically. "Vaan, let's help the other orphans around here out."

"What do you mean? I already swiped some food for some of them," he said. The rain fell heavier.

"When the storm stops, let's show them that we can be their parents." He sat fully on the ground beside her, watching the heavy boulders of gray clouds.

"Yeah, when the sky stops crying on us and the sun finally comes, we'll help 'em." The storm was the aftermath of the war, and the sun was the aftermath of the tears.

Someone once said to Penelo that once you're finished crying, you feel a sense of empowerment and what that person called 'sensitive joy'. That person called it such a name because when someone made you smile directly after crying, you still felt sad and teary on the inside.

But Penelo and Vaan's sky would clear someday soon, because they already felt empowered. Penelo had Vaan and her family's presence to embrace. He had the memory of his older brother, Reks to hold his hand.

She knew then, that Vaan was an exception. He didn't need someone's presence to give him inner strength. He only needed memories and a friend to sustain him. It wasn't that he had no inner strength, it was that it had always been there and she just got used to being exposed to it. His presence around her had created that illusion. Vaan had lost it for a while, it had grown dormant. But it was beginning to show again.

"You're strong, Vaan," Penelo commented. The rain was letting up. "That gives me strength. I'm glad we share so much. The same past and the same despair. . . ." He took her hand, and holding it, he helped her point to the sky, smiling.

"The rain's letting up. Our sky's about to smile for us," he said. She nodded and they walked together, holding hands.

The adults of Rabanastre saw them only as children, thinking they were in love, standing so close to each other and holding hands like that. And they were, at least on Penelo's part. She was a child, but she knew what love was. And she was glad she could experience it under Vaan's sky. The same sky that cried and smiled for her. The one she used to call her own.