Prologue

"And he scores folks! That's another one for the Zanarkand Abes!"

"I honestly don't see how anyone can compete, Nantza, I honestly don't."

"You said it, Alian! And that's time folks! Another win for the Abes! And it's all thanks to..."

The roaring crowd drowned out the announcers. They knew all too well who the Zanarkand Abes owed their win, and he knew it too.

He stood just outside the arena, smirking as adoring fans swarmed to greet him, to congratulate him, and to beg for autographs and pictures. This sort of attention would have stifled any other, but not him. He enjoyed being the center of their worlds...he enjoyed being their Blitzball God. One after another he signed blitzballs, books, cards, arms, shoulders, hands and even some bald heads; he posed in many pictures, each with a signature move or grin. Indeed, he truly was the best.

After a good hour of people pleasing, he joked and grinned his way out of the crowd's grasp and slowly made his way to a bridge overlooking the city he loved. The bridge was relatively empty, every now and then a passerby would walk by recognizing him and ask for a signed photo or something of that nature, but it was nonetheless peaceful...a huge contrast to the bustling arena. He gazed out across the sea of illuminated buildings and streets to the ocean beyond. Sighing he leaned against the railing and continued to peer out. Zanarkand was beautiful all around but mainly so at night. The lights would flicker and dance, the sounds excited and invited people to its streets, and the ocean beside it reflected all of its beauty. It was almost as beautiful as the woman he had waiting for him at home.

A small smile played across his lips, she would be there to greet him and give all of herself in everything she did for him. He gave a chuckle thinking of how large she was; she was practically about to burst but still she insisted on cleaning and even preparing dinner, which for the past several months have been composed entirely of odd and sometimes monstrous dishes. He couldn't think of a better woman or home to return to, she loved him before his fame and loves him still...he wasn't sure he could admit it outright but he too loved her with all his heart.

"Don't get mushy..." he muttered to himself, shaking the thoughts away with a small smile. He sighed and stood straight taking in his surroundings once more, this time his attention was drawn to the building behind him that displayed his photo on a large screen. "I'm the best." The smirk returned and pride swelled within.

Admiring the photo a little longer, he decided it was best to return to his pregnant wife who was, more than likely, on her hands and knees attempting to clean the floors. A chuckle broke from his lips at the thought as he continued walking.

He took several steps before being tapped gently on the shoulder, he sighed and smugly grinned.

Who was he to deny a fan?

Turning, he came face to face with a sullen looking man. He had sunken eyes, a grim expression, and a stately appearance. A little ways behind him stood another man, who looked nearly identical, holding the hand of a small hooded child. Looking back at the man before him he began to doubt that this person was any fan of his.

"Are you Jecht? The Jecht of the Zanarkand Abes?"

Jecht stared at the man then turned to the building displaying the larger-than-life picture of him with his name clearly labeled to the side of it.

'Is this guy serious?' Jecht thought as his gaze returned to the man.

"Nah, I'm just a very good doppelganger." He stated placing his hands on his hips and stared at the display again.

The man followed his gaze and a small blush edged across his pale cheeks as he peered back at Jecht.

"My apologies," the man cleared his throat. "My name is Ienrich, your wife informed my associate and I that you would be walking this way after the match from the arena. I suppose we could have waited at your home but I'm afraid that we're on a tight schedule." Ienrich motioned to the others behind him and himself.

"Okay, and what do you want with me? An autograph? A picture with the kid?" Jecht questioned now leaning against the balustrade looking from both men to the child.

"Ah, again my apologies I am the personal representative of Amalia Bontecuo-"

"Amalia? Seriously? She's the one who decided to be a hermit somewhere away from all of us. What the hell would she want after all these years? And don't tell me it's for money, 'cause I refuse." Jecht turned to leave but was caught by Ienrich.

"I'm here to notify you that Amalia has passed away." The sullen man stated, releasing him.

He stood there for a minute trying to gather his thoughts, before turning around and looking at the man.

"I understand that there was some animosity between you and your sister but we have come to tell you of the news and also to inform you that you are now the caretaker of Amalia's only child." With that he motioned for the other man to bring the child forward.

The other advanced several steps, standing beside him and releasing the child's hand before stepping back. The child stood there fidgeting ever so slightly, they didn't look up only down at their feet. Jecht stared down at the small creature then back at the man in disbelief.

"Why me?"

"You are the only living relative she has left." Ienrich stated before looking at his watch. "Please forgive the short notice and this sudden meeting but we have other duties to attend to for the time being. We'll return at a later date to finalize everything. I bid you farewell, take good care of her." He bowed his head and turned to leave along with his eerily similar associate.

Jecht gaped at the men then shook his head and rubbed his brow. Looking around he wondered how many may have witnessed this and sighed in relief to see no one around. Slowly his gaze rested on the child who had not moved an inch. He wondered if perhaps she understood what was going on, from her stature he was sure she couldn't be a day over five but Amalia was always small too. How would his wife feel being saddled with another kid, while the other one was only a month or so away?

For a moment he stood there, unsure of what to do, when suddenly a small hand latched tightly onto his shorts, it was quivering and white knuckled. It was then he knew she must have understood on some level what had transpired.

"Mommy..." her words faded as a small muffled sob escaped from beneath the hood. "Mommy's not coming back...is she?" Her voice was soft and her hand clenched tighter around the fabric.

This caused him to crouch down and gaze at the child, the news of his estranged sister's death hadn't hit him as hard as the sorrow this child must have been feeling right now. He sighed and wrapped his arms around the child in a short hug before releasing her.

"Sorry kiddo..." He responded softly.

Finally she looked up at him, the hood falling from her head. Her silver-white hair shimmered due to the night's lights, as her pale icy blue eyes, swollen and red from crying, peered at him solemnly. He stared at her for a moment; she did resemble something of her mother he noted, hoping she was nothing like her personality wise.

He stood, still looking at her. She returned the stare before grabbing the fabric of his shorts again and standing as though waiting for something. Taking this as a sign to move he did so and she followed in toe, not releasing his clothing.

"So what's your name kid?" Jecht asked looking forward staring at the street.

"Linnea." The small girl responded softly, looking forward as well and sniffling every now and then.

"Okay, Lin, do you know who I am? And how old are you anyway?" Jecht found himself curious as to what that sister of his would have told the child, if she even bothered to mention him at all.

"I'll be five soon," she said softly.

"How soon is soon? Days? Weeks?" Jecht interjected.

"Months..." she responded.

He gave a small nod before looking down at her. "Heh, I noticed you didn't answer my other question, she must not have even told you about her other family members. Figures." The man commented thinking of his sister.

"You didn' give me time to..." She said with a slight huff.

"Is that so? So the woman did mention me, eh?" He chuckled. "Bet it's all bad."

"She said you were stubborn, and sometimes thickheaded," the girl looked up at him in time to see him rolling his eyes, obviously expecting to hear that, and returned her gaze forward. "She also said you were kind...even if you didn' wan' others to know. Said you were her favorite brother..."

Jecht stopped shocked for a moment then chuckled slightly, a small sad grin forming on his lips. He began to think about all the good memories he ever had with his sister before shaking his head and peered down at the child.

"Really, heh, did she tell you I'm her only brother?" He chuckled again and sighed looking around. His eyes met the face of a clock and he cursed under his breath for taking so long. Quickly, he picked up the child. "We're gonna run, hold on kid."

The child did as she was instructed; wrapping her small arms around his neck and watching as the scenery quickly went by. It had a lulling effect, and soon she was sleeping in his arms. Jecht looked down briefly at the girl and sighed, shaking his head, before running off into the night.

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy X in any shape or form, though one can wish. :D Anywho, I do own Linnea.

Author's note: This chapter and perhaps the next two wll be before the Final Fantasy X storyline, I guess my hopes are to lessen the blow of using an OC. Here's to hoping, and cookies to all. XD