First chapters are always boring, but at least you get to meet the characters... so not today. I've learned a genius contraption on how to shed some light on the characters, allowing them to appear more interesting. So here goes... Shuyin and Lenne, our favorite Final Fantasy X-2 couple, and a tragedy of how they vanished mysteriously... Who knew fame really could attract them to each other?
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Yevon was once a human being, like all others in Spira, and he had lived a life teaching the 'Yevon beliefs' properly. However, his death was drawing close, and his deathbed was already awaiting him. The people in Spira mourned, from every corner of the world. It would be international worldwide news if their treasured Yevon died. Yevon had blessed many cities, especially Bevelle, however, cursed some cities. The machina cities. He cursed the Al Bhed people for inventing sacrilegious devices. And when he died, his last words happened to be, "Damn the Al Bhed and machina... Protect the people and their teachings, and let their faith grow strong... Please." And so he did die of old age... and it was worldwide news as expected.
Zanarkand, the city of the stars, the pleasant ancient city run by machina... one of the cursed cities. It always had a perfect golden sunset, sinking behind the orange and purple clouds, and behind the bronze oceans. Boats were docked to the star piers, where certain celebrities arrived with hordes of photographers and journalists. The technology was incredibly high and appreciated with the inventions of electricity and the buildlings and waterfalls pouring out of them. There were highways and bridges, connecting the gigantic city together, and the centre was a stadium used for either games or concerts. Blitzball was the major sport.
Standing apart from the crowd, almost easily recognizable, she hid her beautiful face beneath the hood of her cloaked robe. She tried her best to look like a pauper or a peasant, a few long brown hairs would block her vision, though. She hid inside the discolored rag-textured cloak, as if it was the only thing she wore, but in reality, she was wearing a well-fitting navy school-girl uniform, complete with high-collared and short-sleeved shirt, plaid mini-skirt, striped tie, socks, and boots. She paced nervously, and her boots made noise in the silence, causing a few passerbys to stop and stare at the face she shrouded. She stared to her left, looking past the highway on the building-tops that she stood on, and staring at the hazy late-afternoon sunset.
She was very silent, not tolerating her voice to be heard, and inattentive to the comments the inhabitants made. Occasionally, she'd find herself glaring at them meanly, until they walked off. She didn't seem very happy, or carry some pride or dignity. She seemed quiet, shy, and possibly hiding from something. Her school uniform flattered her thin and elegant figure, but nobody was able to see that beautiful frame, for it was concealed in the cloak that dragged limply behind her each step she took. Hazel eyes disappeared slowly behind her thick eyelashes, and her cherry lips spoke not a word or a sound, for that matter. She sighed, as if patiently waiting for somebody, for she was on a busy pedestrian highway, where people came from various spots of Zanarkand to do errands, jobs, pick their kids up from school, watch a blitzball game, see a concert, pray at the temple, or other things that who knows what. She stood out, though, that was definitely clear. When things got busy, she'd dodge around and slip between people, flipping her cloak around so nobody would step on it... then she would trip and fall. That would be disastrous if anybody blew her identity... She would not allow it.
The grand buildings made her feel oddly small, and she began to placidly walk forward, blinking her beautiful eyes nervously. The shadows of the machina buildings were cast over half the ocean view, sprawling creepily towards the sun, as if the shadow were to devour it entirely. She gulped... and continued to walk down the highways crowded with people who were ready to see the Blitzball game tonight. The woman decided it was probably time for her to go home, and that she would not have any luck.
She stood silently at the decrepit Zanarkand mansion that she called 'home', and it had been her home for several months. It was perched on flat terrain, with the cliffsides of the mountains decorating the background, and grassy alleys surrounding it... this area was one of the only untouched land in Zanarkand, and the rest was a city. This was the only countryside, and the last hope for native Zanarkand animals and creatures. She remembered the day she moved in... what a fuss moving in was, and how long the complaining ranted on before it died down.
The gothic architecture stopped disturbing her just a few weeks ago, and she had gotten used to it. She would often walk in with her hand on the heavily-built, church-glass door at all times, before carefully turning around and pushing it shut, locking the hatch to keep herself secure and safe inside. She wasn't sure why she was so cautious, but she always was. The old mansion she lived in was quite enormous, and she lived there with her mother and the maid, who would always carp about her posture, her ladylike figure, and etiquette... it personally drove her nuts.
"Lenne, dear, are you home!?" she expected to hear... but her mother didn't address her name... there was just silence. Putting a hand on the banister railings, she made her way up the creaky old stairs, climbing slowly with her eyes to her feet, making sure that she wouldn't trip on her cloak or her untied shoelacing that she had just noticed now. At the upper level, she stared at the windows in front of her, which revealed the gorgeous view of Zanarkand dusk, the last glimmer of sun was already almost depleted. Lenne kept an apathetic stare as she entered the east wing of her dear mansion, trying to relocate her claimed room.
The first month she was there, she could never find her room, and she always had to be led by the maid, who also had problems memorizing the tough layout of the mansion. The maid would always be muttering of 'how much a fool this imbecile must've been to build such a confusing plot'. Lenne laughed at the maid's complaints and tirades, but was always led to her room for several months. Now she had to remember where it was, she had been there so long.
It was like traffic, bad directions, and confusing signs pointing to various places that often led you back to where you started. She wandered down the path of her instincts, but ended up in her mother's master bathroom, where the faucet was on. She wandered down a different path, but came to a set of stairs she had never seen before, and it led to a basement or back to the lower level... she was not going to find out in fear of getting lost forever. She wandered down the third path, which led to the upstairs kitchen... she didn't even know there was an upstairs kitchen! The fourth path led to an empty useless room in the third floor. The fifth path led to an unclaimed bedroom which she desired to have for its view of the Zanarkand twilight, but refused, and headed back, where she took a sixth path, and unexpectedly after finding a library, found her claimed room. She definitely HAD to memorize that path.
She took off her cloak, placing it on a dusty couch, and pulled out a book from the shelves. She stared at the beautiful red satin cover, golden engraved letters, and crystal white pages with printed text engrained in detailed treasures. There was a bookmark from its previous reader, and she opened it, recognizing the words immediately, and she began to recite them by heart mentally. It was her favorite book, "The Rise from the Sunset". She had magically picked it out, and it was lying in her hands... what a keen eye one must have to do so.
There were two beds in her bedroom, one was unused, and it wasn't as if anybody would be needing to sleep over, especially since she had no friends. She glanced down at her school-uniform... even in school she couldn't find any friends, and the school mostly was the teachings of Yevon and summoning, where she had tutors who enjoyed lecturing their students, so nobody could speak even if they wanted to, and the notes the teenagers would pass around were often caught. She glared back at the two beds and sighed, sitting down on the one by the window, deciding that this was the most suitable accommodation, rather than that secret hidden room with the amazing view.
She bounced lightly on the mattress, smiling to herself as she curled up with her good book, and flicked on the lamp. The light beams lit up the pages, and her thoughts were absorbed into the story, even before she clearly understood or made out any letters. Before she got hooked onto the ancient book written by Yevon himself, she shut it promptly, and ran her fingers over the red velvety cover... allowing them to run on the fraying rim, and over the slightly tarnished golden engraved letters, but it was definite it was an ancient book, written long before her parents were born, for Yevon was young when he had written the tragic tales of which Lenne loved so much when she turned twelve. The book had also been favored by her dear father... Yevon rest his soul. It was a long time ago.
Curious about her belongings for some peculiar reason, she set the book down on the nightstand, and idly walked, dazed in a daydream, over to the closet, horizontally sliding the door open. Carefully, she pulled out her spare school uniform, lying it on the other bed, preparing it for tomorrow's school day. She took out her dressy uniform, it was quite garish and her mother would disapprove, saying that it's inappropriate. The maid found it positively droll, the young men called it formidable, and if her father was still alive, he'd call it grotesque... everybody has a different opinion. She believed it was beautiful, elegant, and showy. She also had a nice black suit, which was long-sleeved, and with a long skirt, knee-height socks, elbow-length gloves, and boots. There was an expensive fur that her mother used to wore that was dated and labeled, but Lenne always wore it so that she wouldn't be known as a prostitute's daughter. There was a girlish red bow that Lenne hated wearing, but her mother would goad and tease her... so she wore it to funerals. She had casual clothes, but they were in the closet, and now that she had inspected her belongings, she had pulled out the dressy uniform, lying it beside the school uniform for tomorrow.
She kicked off her shoes, lying them under a dresser, and she fluffed up her feathered pillow, preparing to embark on a fantastic journey: reading a book. Due to years of having it ever since infancy, it was rather deflated and it smelled like dust, but Lenne didn't mind, because it was her favorite color, blue. Flipping to the first page, Lenne's eager reading eyes focused on the text, that read the first chapter's title... her mind trailed off as the words revived her spirit, but before she had gotten to the second page, there was a loud racket that sounded much like iron bells...
She groaned as she shut the book, fumbling it into the nightstand's drawer, and running barefoot down the stairs, with her long hip-length chestnut hair following behind her. She had easily found her way back as always, but she thought of how much a pain it was just to get back. It was probably just the mailman or somebody stupid, but she had to check, anyhow since her mother would write a speech about it. Her hand nervously pressed against the glass to look for the intruder's face... it was black. Perhaps it was too dark. She flipped on the porch lighting, and stared out again... dark. She mumbled under her breath, and unlocked the hatch. Her thin, small hand reached for the doorknob, but it twisted with ease as if the person on the other side was already opening the door before she could. Her hazel eyes widened suddenly, and she dashed to make a run for it, because she had forebodied this by dream...
A grip around her ankle tripped her, and she fell flat to the floor, face-down. She yelped in pain as she was dragged to the floor by a large hand with a tight grip. Her eyes squinted to avoid screaming out in pain, but then again, she wanted to alert her mother that somebody was trying to do something to her. It was probably dark earlier, because a black glove was covering the glass. She shrieked at the top of her lungs to alert her mother, but she was being dragged closer to the body. Before she could think, a hand was neatly placed over her mouth, shutting her up instantly. Her eyes darted to the side. "Shh! It's just me." her expression was hidious, but she suddenly recognized the face... it was just Taruke, her "girl friend", which was what the girls called their female friends, because they loved annoying the teachers when they called each other, addressing them by "girl friend".
"Hey, girl friend!" Lenne teased, eyes widening, "Why'd you give me a heart attack?"
"Happy Hallows Eve!" Taruke joked, knowing that Lenne shivered at the holiday of the ghosts and spirits... for it seemed as if they loved haunting her.
Lenne had regained her senses, and her horrified looks, replacing them with smiles, "So what are you doing here?" Lenne brushed some chestnut hairs behind her ears, while her friend playfully tugged the earrings that hung off of her left ear. Lenne smiled at this action, and so did Taruke.
"I'm coming to remind you that my BOYFRIEND has a game today!" Taruke squealed, indicating by the tone of voice, Lenne knew exactly who this 'boyfriend' was. It was her 'hero', the famous Blitzball player, Lotka. Taruke had always a crush on this guy, but Lenne couldn't see why... not that she ever paid attention to Taruke's love confessions and speeches with fanaticism of an energetic woman. "You said you were going to come with me! I've got front row seats!!" she proudly held out two first-class, front-row seats on the West block. Lenne frowned, but Taruke had another shriek of joy... while Lenne could hear her mother screaming from the other side of the house for Lenne to 'shut her friend up'. Indeed, Lenne had no friends... just buddies who liked to take her places... Places she'd rather not go to.
"Taruke..." Lenne calmly said, placing her hands on Taruke's, who looked a little shocked by her friend's reaction. Lenne's hazel eyes looked slightly watering, as she said, "I don't want to go. I'm sorry, but I have other plans..." Taruke frowned, and recoiled from Lenne's touch, which made her feel pity for Taruke. "But we'll go some other time!" Lenne promised, concerned.
"But you promised..." Taruke whined, "And a promise is a promise!" Taruke gripped onto the tickets, and Lenne could see how much the tickets costed... six-thousand gil. Lenne gave a face of disgust to see the exorbitant price, and she saw her friend's terrible reaction, so eventually after five minutes of persuading, Lenne agreed. "Really?" Taruke said, making sure her hearing was correct, Lenne nodded, and it was off to the Blitzball games they went.
Lenne much rather would've been reading her book, but here she was... A noisy stadium filled with crowds, mostly fans, divided into sections depending on which fan-club they were in. Lenne's hair was tied back, and she was embarrassingly still in her school-uniform, but wrapped in the mysterious cloak. Taruke always reminded Lenne that she looked like an idiot under there, but Lenne didn't care what other people thought, as long as she wasn't revealed. Taruke was who she was looking for on the streets earlier that day.
Early into the game, great disappointment came, as Taruke's star player, Lotka, failed after the first round. Taruke actually began crying as she sunk back into her seat, while other fans were standing up, screaming chants and their favorite player's names. Lenne's eyes spotted the players swimming around frantically in their domed-structure prison. Lenne thought that they must be lucky to be underwater, where the sounds were silenced to blurred speech and muffles, rather than being shouted in the ear, and half-deaf for the rest of the month. As soon as Taruke sat down, so did Lenne, and she rubbed Taruke's back, constantly telling her that things would look better after this. But it didn't. Lotka returned for round three, and failed once again. Round four, failed again. Half-time, failed. Sixth round, failed. Eighth round, failed. Taruke was complaining that it was not Lotka's best day, obviously, and Lenne sure could see that.
One particular player seemed to catch her eye. He had entered to save the day since Lotka failed, and it was later revealed that he had injured his ankle in the first round, but insisted on playing until the joint fractured. This player had shaggy blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to admire Lenne's face. Her eyes widened when he entered the arena, for he looked at her and waved. Angry, rabid fan-girls turned around to declare or sentence death on the one woman that captured his attention... out of all the crowd, he had waved at HER. Did she know him? She nervously waved, and by star instinct, he motioned as if to say 'call me'. She blushed, and fan-girls began throwing popcorn at her. Taruke had to scare them off... Lenne sunk back in her seat, blushing... but intently watching the expert player. He was good. He made her interested in the boring game.
The score was 0 to 12, 0 being the team that Lotka and that certain player was on, but by the time that star player had arrived... the score went from that to 15 to 13. The crowd went beyond crazy and hyper, screaming frantically, nearly passing out from the adrenaline of excitement. Lenne blushed once again, her cheeks turning from pale to red, just remembering that look on the man's face when he smiled at her. She shrouded her face again, and tried to sneak out of the stadium without being recognized... Taruke was rushing with the other fan-girls to get their autographs signed by Lotka or that star player.
Lenne had her face completely hidden, and she continued to run, unrecognizable by anyone. "Wait!!" her eyes widened and she froze at the command. It was a male voice, so it wasn't Taruke... had one of her fans recognized her? Yes, indeed she had admiring fans. She gulped, her grip clenching the cloak, and somebody had approached her, for she heard the running footsteps, and they stopped abruptly when the male stopped directly behind her. Her eyes closed, and the wind pressed on her face, revealing a few long brown hairs blowing in the draft. Her breathing was calm, but her heart was racing. "You're that girl from before, right?"
... Before where? What was he talking about? The only boy she had seen was the star player, who waved unexpectedly at her and frightened her by the action, was this him? She turned around, and hazel eyes met sapphire eyes... His eyes were scrutinizing her figure hidden by the cloak, and her face grew ascetic, "What are you looking at?"
"If you may, miss..." It was him. That star player. He had wet shaggy blonde hair from the previous, rough game, and he smelled like chlorinated water, breathing heavily through his nostrils from the agility and heart-pounding thrill of the game he took too seriously. Water droplets landed on Lenne's face, causing her to blink suddenly as she stared up into his face, "Please tell me your name? You are very fine..."
Her eyes widened, did she recognize him? "Don't you know who I am? I'm quite famous, you know."
"As am I." he responded, eyes wide, "... But, why don't you know who I am?"
After a confusing quarrel between the two young people that had just met, he reasoned, "I'm sorry... I got us all caught up in confusion."
"No, it's my fault." Lenne protested... "I'm Lenne." she said immediately, "I'm the famous songstress."
"Ah, yes?" the star player said, confused, surprised at how famous she claimed to be. "I'm Shuyin. The Blitzball player. Star of the team!"
"Why did you wave at me, Shuyin?" Lenne asked, rubbing the water droplets off her cold face, and shivering at the wind.
"You looked familiar... Very beautiful." Shuyin blantly stood the facts, and Lenne blinked, as he continued, "I was waving at you, and nobody else. You must be the songstress always spoken about on the news and shown on the electric banners..."
Lenne laughed as Shuyin said this, "Yes, that's me." she replied, with a strange expression on her face, staring into his beautiful eyes, not harmed by chlorine's bleaching effect. "People, nowadays, can spot me just by my silhouette... I'm so famous, it's scary."
Shuyin laughed when she said that, "You sound like me and my fans."
"Oh, really?" Lenne mused, giving a gentle, yet playful smile.
"Oh, yes, really!" Shuyin said, coming closer to her, and they began walking in a circle, as if in a show-down.
"People can spot you by your figure?"
"Oh, yes."
"Would you like me to remove this cloak?"
"Please."
Lenne removed her cloak at Shuyin's request, and his eyes lit up to see her beautiful figure, embarrassingly flattering her thin female posture. She arched one eyebrow, and continued to circle around Shuyin, as he did the same, and it was as if they were having a show-down of conversation... a strange event.
"When will we meet again, Shuyin?" Lenne asked, inching slowly closer to him.
"Tomorrow." Shuyin promised.
Lenne held out her hand, "See you tomorrow."
"Wait." Shuyin clutched the hand, as Lenne expected him to. "When is your next concert?"
"Tomorrow." Lenne replied.
"Tomorrow," Shuyin repeated, gulping, as Lenne looked amused, "Where is your home?"
"This isn't Romeo and Juliet!" Lenne reminded Shuyin, teasing him, and he grinned. "Romeo goes to Juliet's mansion, and they confess love for each other."
"Love at first sight, huh?" Shuyin smiled.
"Yes." Lenne grinned.
"So, I'll see you tomorrow, same place?" Shuyin asked.
"Same place." Lenne promised.
They parted their ways, each going back home... crazy rabid fan-girls awaiting Shuyin, and a long narrow, meandering path of creepy dark woods awaiting Lenne who was enigmatic in the cloaked-figure she disguised to be.
