Disclaimer: The author of this fan fiction claims no ownership whatsoever over any and all copyrighted or trademarked materials that may appear within this fan fiction, including but not limited to Final Fantasy X and all it may entail. No profit of any sort was made from either the production or publication of this fan fiction. This disclaimer shall stand for all installments of this fan fiction and will not be repeated unless requested.

02.15.2009: I will not address this issue again, so listen up: this is a revamped version of a story that was posted about a year ago under the same name. I'm not proud of how I abandoned it, and unfortunately, I no longer have the original chapters. I'd like to think this version is new and improved, but I'll leave that up to you good people to decide. Enjoy.


L'ADDESTRATORE

Don't tell me if I'm dyin',

'Cause I don't wanna know.

If I can't see the sun,

Maybe I should go.

Don't wake me 'cause I'm dreamin',

Of angels on the moon.

Where everyone you know,

Never leaves too soon.

- 'Angels on the Moon', Thriving Ivory

I really couldn't tell you why I've always been a dog person.

I don't think it's because of any single reason, either. Great Aunt Marge is the stereotypical old woman, the poor spinster in the old Victorian house across the street who might as well be running a shelter for homeless cats the world over. I hated going to visit her as a kid, because the moment I stepped into her house, I knew I could say good-bye to breathing fresh air. She always made me hold Snickers, her favorite tomcat. Apparently she never realized how deeply Snickers and I loathed one another.

I've always sort of thought critters like hamsters and birds were pointless. They don't seem to register or acknowledge you the way dogs -- and occasionally cats -- do. I used to have a ferret once upon a time. Admittedly, the little guy was pretty cool. He was my attack ferret; he bit people on command.

But dogs…

There's this saying I love: the dog is the god of frolic. They are incurably happy little bastards, and I suppose that is why I have always loved them. It's the way their eyes light up and their tales start thumping the floor a mile a minute when you walk into the room. They know if they succeed in looking cute enough, they just might get that extra scrap of bacon sitting on your plate at breakfast. And most importantly, they are unswervingly loyal to their masters.

The day of my tenth birthday, my parents finally caved to my incessant begging and bought me a brand new puppy. Of course, they gave me the usual rundown -- "Now, Brittany, this is your dog. You feed it, you play with it, you make sure it does its business outside, and we don't ever want to hear anything about any more pets ever again, blah, blah, blah…."

He was the best dog I had ever laid eyes on.

I can still remember how tiny he seemed when I first held him in my arms. He was a purebred German Shepherd, with a deep copper-red coat and a perfect blanket of obsidian covering his back. No tar heels, gorgeous russet eyes, black nose. He was quiet, a trait Mom and Dad were deeply grateful for.

I named him Auron.

At the time, I was obsessed with finishing the new Final Fantasy game out on the market, and my favorite character was a warrior named Auron. My Auron seemed to be the perfect embodiment of him in dog form, right down to the red in his fur and the reserved nature of his personality. Eight years later, I kind of find the name to be a little childish, but it's too late to change that now.

Auron is going to be euthanized on Monday.

German Shepherds seem to get a lot of bad publicity. I am one of those people who firmly believe in the concept that there are no bad dogs, simply bad owners, and neither Auron or I fit into that category. I was dedicated to training him when he was younger, and he exhibited the intelligence his breed is renowned for. He picked up quickly on how bad biting was, where it was okay to take a whiz, and which things were his to play with. It was relatively easy to groom him into becoming a wonderful family companion as well as a protective guard dog. In short, Auron is not a bad dog.

The new neighbors who moved in next door do not agree with me. Their irresponsible brat, a kid younger than me only by a few years or so, decided it would be a great game to start throwing rocks at Auron while he was in his kennel in the back yard. Ten points to hit him, twenty to hit his head. Said brat even convinced his twin siblings to join in on the fun.

As the story goes, one of the idiots decided to start poking him with a stick through the chain links. They claim they were going to let him out of the kennel to play fetch, but our other neighbor -- who witnessed the whole incident -- says she never had that impression.

Anyway, the brats were tormenting my dog. As I've stated, Auron is a smart pup. He knew how to get out of his kennel, and the moment he did, that little bastard went down. The kid went home crying to his mommy and daddy, nursing some minor bite wounds on his arm. Auron (who was trained to deal with intruders, mind you), stayed calmly in the yard and waited like a good boy.

Long story short, the parents reported the incident to the authorities, and the law demands justice, which apparently means Auron must be killed for merely doing what he was trained to do. It still irks me that the kids were stupid enough to come into our yard uninvited, despite the numerous signs we have around the property stating to 'BEWARE OF DOG'.

The whole incident makes me sick to my stomach.

A knock on my door paused my thoughts of making a mad dash for the bathroom. I can always tell who is standing outside my door; Mom just walks right in, where Dad is actually considerate enough to knock a couple of times before entering.

"Come in," I called from my place on the bed.

As predicted, my dear old pop walked in. He looked so awkward, just standing there, kind of wringing his hands. He gets this huge line in his forehead when he worries, makes him look at least a decade older than his thirty-nine years.

"What can I do for you, Dad?" I asked. I peered at his upside-down form with curiosity, hanging my torso off the edge of the bed and letting my blood rush to my brain.

"Well, kid, I think… I think maybe you should take Auron for a walk. Or something. Get him out of the house, you know, before…." Another wrinkle dented his forehead.

I scowled, which probably looked kind of funny. The last thing I felt like doing was getting out of the house. Who knew what would happen if I ran into those stupid little neighbor brats….

"Come on, Brit. Don't you think he deserves to… have fun? Before…." Again, he couldn't bring himself to say the words.

But I felt my resolve weakening. It wasn't fair to Auron to be cooped up in the house simply because I was sulking. His last days truly did deserve to be happy ones, and what a sad owner I would be if I didn't do my best to make them that way.

"You're right," I admitted bitterly. I still didn't cherish the idea of leaving the house, but for Auron, I would do anything. I righted myself and swung my feet over the edge to stand up. "So, do you want to come with? I might take him down by the skate park, see if Jenny's there."

Jenny was my father's sister's daughter. She was older than me by several years but was still clinging to her high school image, which included lots of flannel, torn jeans, and a skateboard permanently glued to her feet. The skate park was her favorite place in the city to hang out on the weekends.

Dad shook his head. "I think I'll pass, kiddo. Your mother and I are thinking about heading over to the Wilson's for a barbeque."

I grabbed Auron's leash from the closet and walked downstairs with Dad while he chattered about the Wilson's latest idea for their weekly couple's night, though I paid little attention to him. Autumn had crept up on everyone without warning. A few weeks ago, it was sixty degrees and sunny outside. Today was cloudy, with a doubtful high of fifty. I tugged on a jacket as I headed out to the garage, leaving Dad in the kitchen.

Auron stood up from his makeshift bed as I opened the garage door. His tail wagged softly in greeting, and I fought back tears. I hooked the leash to his collar and gave his ears an affectionate rub. "Hey, big guy."

As we made our way down the street, I began to feel a little bit better. We lived in a pretty peaceful neighborhood, quiet, without a lot of traffic. There weren't a lot of distractions to keep my mind busy. I was free to appreciate the beauty of my favorite season; how the green of the trees were transforming into vibrant reds, faded pinks, and sunny golds, or the way the sun was beginning to set just a little bit earlier in the evening. It looked like Mrs. Thomas' pumpkins were coming along nicely. Even crabby Mr. Johnson seemed to be in a good mood, nodding a hello from his porch as we passed his driveway.

The skate park was about a twenty minute walk from the house. Thankfully, there was only one busy road to cross on our way there. It always made me nervous, crossing Park, because hardly anybody bothered to follow the speed limit. The police were kind of lax in the area; the put most of their effort into patrolling around the high school a mile or two down the road.

We stopped at the curb, waiting for a few cars to pass. Auron waited patiently at my side, his eyes following the cars as they sped to the bottom of the hill. My cell phone began to ring in my pocket, blaring the beginning of 'The Hamster Dance' -- Jenny's chosen ring tone.

"What's up?" I answered. Glancing in both directions, I tugged on Auron's leash and began to cross the road.

Jenny said something, but I didn't get the chance to hear whatever it was. Her words were drowned out by the roar of an engine, and before I could register what was happening, I found myself lying awkwardly on the pavement. The static in my ears was punctured only by the sharp yelp of a dog, and then… silence….

I dazedly wondered what happened to my cell phone. I could have sworn I was talking on it just a few minutes ago. That stupid ring tone… oh, how I hated that ring tone….

I don't know how long I laid there before I noticed someone trying to speak to me. The words were barely audible, and I struggled to comprehend them.

"…pulse is weak… about the dog?…."

I heard bits and pieces of the conversation going on around me. The thing that kept jumping out at me was the word 'dog'. I asked -- or tried to, anyway -- several times if anything had happened to Auron, but nobody answered the question. Either that, or they simply didn't hear it.

It took me a minute to realize there was just… pain… everywhere.

"Auron?"

There was a sudden jolt, like static rolling through my body, and then nothing. Oddly enough, this was when I felt most aware of the situation. It was as though I was paralyzed, blind, and deaf all at once. Panic gripped my brain in an iron grasp.

There was nothing. Nothing! How was that even possible?

I was more afraid than I can ever remember being before, but there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I felt like someone was binding me in place, like they had taken away my free will. The only thing I had left was my thoughts. I desperately needed to know what happened to Auron.

"Don't cry," a voice suddenly told me.

There was something about the voice that instantly calmed and soothed me. It was ageless, androgynous, and everywhere at once. It felt like water washing over me, gently wiping the worry away.

I wondered if I had imagined it.

"What's going on?" I asked tentatively, and then immediately started at the sound of my own voice. It sounded so small in comparison. Insignificant.

"You are dead," it informed me calmly.

Confusion and shock hit me like a slap in the face. "Uhm… what?"

"You are dead." The words were slower this time, as if that would help me to comprehend them any better, and colored with a tingling sense of amusement.

"No, I'm not!"

There was a vibrancy in the voice's laughter, a familiar quality about it I couldn't quite put my finger on. The chuckling died away with a slight echo. "Yes, you are."

I was flabbergasted. It made perfect sense, but at the same time, it didn't. I decided to roll with the punches, however, and thought this was going to make for one hell of a story when I woke up. "What happened to Auron?"

"You aren't going to wake up," it said, "and your canine friend is dead, as well."

The words stung, and raw pain seemed to explode from within me. I wanted to yell and scream and tell this mysterious voice that it was lying… but I couldn't. Somehow, I was unable to deny our current state of being. Vaguely, I wondered if I was actually having a conversation with God.

"No."

"Then who are you?" I asked. The mind reading thing was freaky.

The voice ignored my question. "I have a proposition for you, lady trainer."

"What? Life in exchange for my soul?" I muttered sarcastically.

More laughter. "I will return you and your dog to existence, provided you do your best to help us."

I immediately picked up the voice's reference to itself in the plural but decided against questioning it. This all-knowing entity could apparently riffle through my mind like an open book. If it wanted to answer a question, it would do so.

"What's the catch?"

"There is no 'catch'. Your father once assisted us greatly. He gave us hope. We merely wish to repay him this debt, in accordance with his dying wish. He wanted you to experience his world."

I shoved the nagging familiarity of the voice away in favor of thinking of my father. "My dad? But he isn't dead…."

"Your biological father," the voice explained. "The man you know as your father adopted you as just a babe."

"Wow, you just keep piling on the surprises…."

"It is completely your decision, lady trainer. We do not wish to force you into anything."

"Auron will stay alive?" I asked sharply, thinking of the scheduled euthanizing.

"Yes."

I took a moment to sort out the facts in my head. One, both Auron and I were newly deceased. I think… I think I do remember the car that hit us. Kind of. Two, this voice was offering to bring us back to life, under the condition that we helped them. Three, apparently my biological father -- a man who was not Dave -- wanted me to get to know wherever he was from.

So I could be alive again, go possibly visit a foreign country, honor my end of the deal, and then go back home.

"Okay," I said hesitantly. "All right. I'll do it."

The voice didn't respond. I felt a sudden absence that hadn't tinged the nothingness before and belatedly realized the voice was gone. Before I had the chance to wonder if it had even heard my response, I experienced a strong tugging sensation where my belly button used to be. Colors exploded in front of my eyes, and ethereal balls of light began to rise around me. People screaming, singing, crying, moaning -- all around me, I felt people, and then….

Nothing.