[Author's notes are in a bracket]
[This story is a oneshot, by the way. My hands just started typing this while I got writers' block for another story.]
[MAJOR SPOILER ALERT. If you haven't done FFX yet and you want to, don't read.]
[Disclaimer: I do not own Dissidia: Final Fantasy OR Final Fantasy X. I did buy the game and got severly addicted to it, though.]
"Shut up, old man!" The words just came spilling out of his mouth. "It doesn't concern you, and I don't want it to either." Tidus knew, however, no matter how hurting the words were, Jecht wouldn't even flinch. He was no normal father. Or so Tidus thought.
Now, tainted by the countless sights of bloodshed over his father, Tidus was determined to cast the man who had brought Spira into such a sorry state into the deepest, darkest pits of hell.
Why was Tidus admitting that the monster of a man before him was Jecht? It couldn't be true.
But it is, so deal with it.
Ever since he set foot into this new world, Tidus had made many friends. Friends whom he wanted to protect. Friends whom he wanted to share memories with. Friends whom he wanted to just laugh with. He would help them, just like the way they helped him. Being by his friends' side was enough to keep Tidus happy.
But this old man had to get out of the way first.
X
In truth, Jecht wasn't reluctant to cross swords with his son. He was expecting it, waiting fervently for that day to arrive. All to monitor the progress that his son had made when he was not around.
Secretly, he yearned for the days when Tidus was five, young and innocent, unaware of his father's 'condition'. When he was still a crybaby. When he was still pure.
Now standing before him wasn't the 5-year-old crying for his mother anymore. Jecht knew that Tidus had grown up. As childish as Tidus still was, he was a grown man now. Jecht had to let go. Give Tidus his own space.
But Jecht couldn't let go. He would never admit it, but he loved Tidus. Tidus was still a child in his eyes. His son. Nothing would ever change that fact.
X
The clash of swords rang through the blitzball stadium. Jecht was down on one knee, on the defensive. Tidus barred his teeth into a ferocious snarl and pushed his aquamarine blade even harder. His matching azure eyes raged with a fire, its fuel being a passion deep within his heart.
A passion to surpass his father, whom he had long been overshadowed by.
Whether in blitzball or battle, Tidus had always been referred to as 'Jecht's son', something he really, really hated.
Tidus' dirty blond hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, an aftermath of the long and hard battle. It was unknown to either of them how long the raging battle ensued, but as far as Tidus was concerned, he was winning.
His long, lost dream, finally being realized as he did a disarming manoeuvre with a sudden burst of vigour. Jecht's heavy sword fell onto the stony ground with a loud 'clang', far from Jecht's reach. The big-sized man fell onto both his knees, as if admitting defeat to his son.
For a moment, Tidus was stunned. He didn't expect himself to be able to actually defeat Jecht.
Finally.
Tidus raised his sky-blue blade, preparing himself for the final strike that would end the conflict.
X
He's grown up, thought Jecht. He's really grown up now.
Jecht was kneeling down to Tidus, something he would never have done to anyone on a voluntary basis. His sword, almost as big as he, slid across the ground, far from his reach.
It was obvious. Jecht had lost the fight.
Jecht's whole life flashed before his eyes; they say that when it does, your final moments are about to arrive. From the time he rose to a blitzball star, to seeing Tidus being born, to going on that journey with Braska and Auron, to sacrificing himself to become the Final Aeon. Even the little details, like recording spheres and leaving them for his son, were shown. It was like a movie made up of his life's precious memories, all his thoughts and emotions.
Wait. This couldn't be right.
Am I gonna die at the hands of that crybaby?
Tidus raised the Brotherhood.
No, I can't. That kid can't survive without me.
Tidus hesitated a little.
Don't use these delusions as a pathetic excuse to live. He doesn't need you anymore.
Tidus lowered his blade.
X
I can't.
Tidus lowered his blade slightly. He couldn't kill anyone. Even his own father, the man he hated the most.
As much as he hate to admit it, Tidus wouldn't have come into this world without Jecht. No matter how much Tidus hated, despised and wanted to cut him down, Jecht was still Tidus' father.
Tidus lowered his blade further, until it was at his side. And he just walked away.
His first and possible the only gift to his father; mercy.
[Like it? Well, I sure hope so. It took me fifteen minutes to write this one, but I delayed posting it.]