Elysium

by risokura

My earliest memory of rising from beneath the murky waters of uncertainty was on a day milked with the soothing light of the late summer sun. AU. FangLightning.

1. aureate dusted basilica

Disclaimer: I don't own FFXIII.

-x-

Elysium

-x-

i: aureate dusted basilica

My earliest memory of rising from beneath the murky waters of uncertainty was on a day milked with the soothing light of the late summer sun. There is no specific memory attached to this moment in my life. What I was doing on that day has long since blurred into my past, eclipsed only by the melancholy I have subjected myself to for so long.

I can only remember a sharp, pointed needle and the long, red and never ending thread pulled through the loop of its oblong hole. There is an agonizing pain as the needle presses itself slowly into the dull heartbeat thumping underneath the skin of my wrist. The thread severs my nerves, ripping through sinew and flesh. Over and over it would wind itself until it completely cut off the circulation in my hand. I never prayed for it to stop. I never asked for reprieve from the pain that it brought. This mangled hand was my atonement for the trouble my existence has caused. For you see, this is simply a metaphor for the sin I have lived with for the last decade of my life.

In the distant past, in a time when I was still known for the name that I was given at the dawn of my birth and my parents were still alive, I can't remember ever explicitly being told that my condition was an abomination. We weren't the most religious family, but my parents were known to dabble in the faith every now and then.

I remember being an idealistic child up until the point where my father died. I never challenged my father when he was still alive. There was a certain amount of obedience that he expected from us even when we were still so young. My sister was too young to remember any events prior to this as I did … but I knew … I knew deep down that he had always seen something in me that challenged the way he knew God intended me to be. But we humans weren't born from God… we were crafted from the blood of the goddess. And perhaps, that's why what my father believed should be considered a fallacy. But God's teachings were always held as absolute. There was no arguing with him over those beliefs.

My father would pass on just as I came to grips with the raging squall of humanity's existence. One person's success was at the expense of another's tragedy. I never understood how I was supposed to have the emotional capacity to feel affinity for another… let alone thousands of people that I would never know or care for. How was I supposed to have compassion for my fellow human when I could never find any for myself? When I knew that this one part of me would never be accepted… could never be accepted by another.

It was not to say that both of my parents looked upon me with disgust. My mother accepted me for what I was, even though she knew what troubles laid in my future. She had given birth to me and knew that what I was was no fault of her own or mine. I wouldn't learn this truth until later on in my life as she lay on her death bed, a cold and comforting hand caressing the wrinkles and thin lines from out and around my tightly drawn lips.

Claire. She would speak my birth name and reach her hand underneath my chin to tilt my head back so I could look at her. There was a smile on her face. …It was an odd smile that reached the fading warmth in her eyes. It was as if she had finally understood everything in the world.

As I said before, my mother had always known what was wrong with her eldest daughter. They say mother's can tell… they always know when their children are lying to them. They know when something is wrong … but they don't always know when they should push and prod. My mother … she never said anything outright to me. My mannerisms never belied my true feelings. I was always careful to keep myself in check. But I could tell in her looks, in the gazes that she used to give me.

My sister brought home four boyfriends in the span that I brought home none. But my mother was kind and she was patient. And she never pressured me into anything. She was convinced I'd find someone … somewhere out there. When the time is right. That's what they always say. When the time is right? The time would never come while she was living, but it would happen somewhere in the years long after her death. I used to think it was a shame she wasn't here to see it. But perhaps, some part of me that still held onto the religion of my youth believed that she still watched on from the heavens.

There was a time when the bells of the Luxerion cathedrals would chime on long through the dawn of every morning. Long after my father had passed, but still before my mother succumbed to her age long sickness. I would wake when the skies were as misty as her eyes and walk through the paved roads to stand at the waterfront. On the third succession of bells, I would cross my fingers in front of my chest and pray. Pray that this was the day that I would be fixed. That this affliction… that this blight on my eternal soul would part with my being and ascend away from me. Or perhaps, descend into hell where I was told it belonged.

But the reprieve never came. And every day I felt that needle puncture a new part of my already bleeding and bruised hand… and the thread pulled harder and ensnared me a little tighter. And as the sun came to peer over the horizon, I would let my hands fall from in front of my chest and raise my head to face the ever continuing agony that was my birth.

-x-

I kneeled down before my mother's grave; cradling the bouquet of roses I brought every year to my chest. It was a warm day in the middle of June. And even though there was hardly any humidity in the air, my hands were beginning to sweat underneath the plastic covering the flowers. I quelled the need to wipe my hands off on my pants as I leaned forward to place the flowers before her headstone.

"Another year, same old thing, yeah? Not like I was expecting it to be any different this time around."

I glanced over my shoulder to where Fang was standing behind me. She wasn't looking at me and her gaze was lost in the late afternoon sky overhead. She swiped a hand over her brow and shifted so that her hands were on her hips.

"You know you don't have to make the trip every year to come with me." I said, finally capturing her attention so that she looked at me.

"Yeah, I know. But it wouldn't be right just leavin' you to do this by yourself, you know?" She shrugged her shoulders, "What with Serah back all the way down in Bodhum, you can't expect her to come back all the time to visit, yeah?"

I turned away from her, "I suppose you're right. Nonetheless, I appreciate the sentiment."

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

I stood up from the grave and Fang came to stand beside me, "It's been four years already…"

"Time's always flyin'." Fang crossed her arms over her chest, "You seem to be holding up all right, though."

I turned away from the grave site and began walking out of the graveyard. Fang fell into step beside me and we both lapsed into silence. What was I supposed to do? Fall to pieces at my mother's grave on every anniversary of her death? I was twenty four, not twelve. I had dealt with death long enough to know that there was no point in mourning, no sense in crying. Everyone died and returned to this earth in a continuous cycle of rebirth. I should be happy that my mother's suffering had ended and she was reborn anew into a new and peaceful life.

Fang had taken the train up from Yusnaan that morning—a five hour commute that she had committed to at 4AM on this day for the last three years. I was thankful for her company even though I had always been inept at showing it. She understood even when I didn't voice it.

"What else you got planned for the day?" Fang asked.

"Nothing of importance... I was going to go to the cathedral—" I said.

"And what? Go pray again?" She asked, her upper lip furling slightly and scoffing at me. "You've already done enough of that for one day. …How about we go to the usual spot?"

"It's early." I replied.

"It's almost five in the damn evening, Light." She pushed her thumbs down into the pockets of her baggy jeans so that they sagged at her hips, "Come on, one drink ain't gonna hurt ya."

"One drink."

"One drink, I promise." She crossed her fingers in front of her and grinned.

I shrugged my shoulders and sighed. I could always go back to the cathedral after she left the next morning. "Guess it couldn't hurt."

-x-

"I really don't know why you've stuck around in Luxerion for so long, Lightnin'." Fang sighed, crossing one slender leg over the other and leaned back in her seat.

"I prefer to stay here." I replied.

"The only reason you moved here is because of your sis—" She paused as she tipped her glass of bourbon to her lips and cleared her throat, "I mean, cause they had better treatment options for your ma's condition. There's nothing to see here. It's boring and stuffy and everyone's always running around prayin' all the god damn time. You always look so damn depressed when I come to see you. Why don't you move back to Bodhum with Serah, huh?"

I glanced wordlessly at her and she rolled her eyes at me. My sister was still a sore subject after all these years.

"Still ain't talkin, eh?" She asked, "How long you gonna hold onto this grudge for, Light?"

"It's not a grudge. I don't have a sister." I said, "She died along with my mother."

"Now you're just being stupid." Fang scoffed, slamming her hand so hard on the table that it sloshed the red wine within my untouched glass. "It's been what? Four years? You still holdin' on to nothing when I'm sure your sister has already buried it. She's already afraid of you, what more do you want?"

"Did you bring me here to talk about Serah? Cause if that's the case, I'm going to go home now and you can go back to Yusnaan."

She shook her head, "No, no. I didn't come here to pick a fight with you about your sis… it's just …" Fang sighed, "Light, it's been years. ...I worry about you being here all by yourself."

"It's peaceful here." I replied, glancing at my wine glass. Fang had ordered it for me even though I told her I wasn't in the mood to drink.

"…And no one really knows you here, do they?"

"I appreciate my privacy."

"Still holding on to that precious privacy of yours, huh?" She glanced down at her drink and titled her glass so that the ice cubes clinked against the sides. "How's the writing going for ya? Still transcribing and translating all those old, stuffy religious texts?"

"Why must you be so passive aggressive?"

"I'm not." Fang replied, "Just tryin' to get you to see how this life is slowly killing you even though you think you're living."

I didn't bother gracing Fang with an answer. We always seemed to argue about the same thing whenever she came to visit. Instead, I finally moved to grasp the wine glass and tipped it to my lips. I didn't drink much, if ever. Only when Fang was in town once every couple of months. I watched the carmine colored liquid edge forward and closed my eyes as I languished in the somewhat bitter, yet sweet taste.

"…What is this?" I asked, tilting the drink glass away from my lips.

"Elysium." She said. "Figured you might want something different this time."

"You mean it's named for Elysian Fields? From Greek mythology?" I asked. "The final resting place for the souls of heroes?"

Fang waved her hand at me and pushed her empty glass of bourbon across the table. A waitress swooped by to place it on her tray and sauntered away back to the bar. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about; it's god damn wine, Light." She reached her arms over her head and stretched, "Why? You don't like it or somethin'?"

"No, it's fine. Just … different." I took another sip, "…It's sweeter than what I'm used to..."

"Got a bit of a kick to it at the end too, yeah?" She sat up straight again, "Vanille's turned me onto it. I need something to drink in-between all the hair pulling I do when I read my students horrifying papers."

"You're the one who chose to stay in academia. It's your own fault." I sat my wine glass down and fiddled with my signet ring. "…How are things with you and school?"

"Four more bloody years to go if everything goes as planned." Fang replied as she hailed a waitress for a menu. She grunted as she whipped open the lamented surface of the dilapidated relic and glanced up at me, "You don't want anything right?"

"Nothing you'd order."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"…You still take your steak burnt?" I asked.

"Very well done." She corrected me.

"You know you do this every time we come here, right?"

She began tapping the old menu against the corner of the table and huffed, "Call me an optimist for hoping they actually change anything in here." Fang looked up at me again, "So. Any new developments in your life? Still biding your time in the cathedral I see."

"It's simple work." I replied.

"Keeps you close to God, huh?" Fang asked as she hailed a waiter and flipped open the menu again.

"You can say that."

The waiter came over before Fang could respond. She made a couple of gestures to the menu as the waiter leaned in to listen to her. I took a sip from my glass of wine again. It had gotten noticeably louder since we'd entered the bar. Figures, it was almost six in the evening. Everyone was just getting off work.

As I lowered my glass of wine, I saw Fang crack a grin at the waiter who had placed his hand down on the table. She began making a show of crossing and uncrossing her legs and leaned forward so that her shirt edged down slightly. My patience was wearing thin.

"Are you ordering food or trying to score a date with someone?" I asked.

The waiter immediately regained his senses and pulled his hand away from the table. Fang sighed and turned back to me as the waiter shuffled away and mumbled something about putting in Fang's order.

"…Lightning Farron. The world's ultimate cockblock." Fang muttered, "You get off on killing everyone's joy, don't you?"

"I didn't come out so you could turn tricks."

"That what you call it, eh?" Fang wasn't offended in the least and crossed her arms as she leaned down on the table. "Tell me how's the love life been? Still punching the shit out of your heart with spiked gloves in the boxing ring?"

Fang's obtrusive voice was always enough to drown out the rest of the squabble of the ruffians that surrounded us. Her eyes were intense and slightly furrowed in what I knew was exasperation. When I refused to answer her, she rapped her knuckles against the wood of the table.

"That wasn't really a question for you to think about." She muttered, "I'm waitin' for an answer."

I shrugged my shoulders and set my half empty glass of wine down in front of me. "This isn't a conversation to be having here." I replied.

"Why? You worried someone will hear you talking about sex with one of your best mates?" She picked up the fresh glass of bourbon a waitress had dropped off at our table and brought it up to her lips, "God forbid you ever portray yourself as someone with needs, Light. That'd be the end of the world, wouldn't it?"

"That's not it, I—" I shrugged, "I never really considered it to be that important."

"Not that important?" She nearly choked on her drink and gave a loud, disgruntled cough to clear her throat. "I don't get you, Light. You ain't ugly and I'm pretty sure there's a whole load of blokes just waiting to fuck your brains out if you let them."

Her crass way of putting things could be so off putting at times. "I hardly want anyone to fuck my brains out." I said.

"Don't take it so literally." Fang scoffed, "God, I've known you since we were what? Seven? Eight?"

"Four." I corrected her. "Maybe if you didn't drink so much you'd remember these things."

She waved her hand dismissively, "Don't try and change the subject, dammit." She took a sip of her drink and licked her lower lip in thought, "I mean, I know you still have that V card. And I'm not making a big deal about that because that's your deal. You'll lose that when you feel well and ready to and I respect that, but…"

"But, what, Fang?"

"I'd think you'd have at least something under your belt when you're bordering the age of twenty five. What gives?"

"Is this why you came to visit me? To discuss the state of romantic life?" Or lack thereof.

She shrugged her shoulders, "I want my best friend to be happy."

"I don't have to be with someone to be happy, Fang."

"That's not what I meant, Lightning." She sighed and began rapping her knuckles on the table again. Her food arrived in the space between our silence. Nachos. I should have known. Fang looked up at me and gestured toward the plate, "Hungry?"

"You know I don't eat meat."

"Scrape it off, jeez." She pulled a cheese laden chip from the bunch and shoved it into her mouth, "Look, Light… we ain't getting any younger. I got my own stuff going on and so do you, but it doesn't mean that I worry about you any less. And yeah, yeah. You're a big girl, I know you can take care of yourself … but I wonder if you're doing it in the right way."

"You live your life how you see fit and I'll do the same for mine." I said, crossing my arms over my chest and looked away from her.

"You really feel that way?"

"It's not my right to judge anyone for what they do."

"Religion talking for you again?"

"Not like you'll ever believe in it."

"I've told you before, we work best against Gods. Not for them." Fang replied, "Can't believe you still adhere to that shit anyway. It's a buncha crap, all of it."

"It's a guiding principle for the way that we should live our lives." I replied, "It might do you some good to actually crack open the scriptures every now and then."

"And what? Read about how I'm going to go to hell? I already know where I'm headin' once this life is over and done for me." Fang laughed, cradling her abdomen in her arm as she began to laugh, "I don't mean to be rude, Light. Really, I don't. But I just can't believe you still hold onto the fairytales they taught us when we were younger. …You don't really believe in any of it anymore, do you?"

"Sometimes people need to believe that something unexplainable, something beyond the scope of human imagination or knowledge exists out there." I replied, finishing off the rest of my wine.

"That why you spend all your time translating those scriptures for the church?"

"Perhaps." I shrugged, "It's a way to bide my time."

"A way to slowly die." Fang muttered, "…You need to find something to do with yourself, Light. I swear, you're going to drive yourself into the ground one day and nothing—no one—is going to be able to pull you out."

"Is it so wrong to be content with a simple life?"

Fang picked up another chip and shook her head, "Not at all. Some people do best with simplicity." She gestured toward me with her hand, "But you. It's not like you're aiming for simplicity. You're aiming to shut the world out."

"That's not it at all."

"Light, outside of me, how many people do you actually keep in contact with?"

She could read the words on my lips even though they were floating idly in the back of my head. No one. My parents had both passed on before I hit the age of twenty one and I was estranged from my younger sister because of circumstances in the past that I couldn't forgive her for. ...Couldn't forgive myself for...

I had never really talked to people. I always kept to myself and steeled my heart against human contact. Everyone else had fallen by the wayside, but not Fang. She was the one person I had constantly kept in my corner. Why she still put up with me was a god damn miracle.

Fang cleared her throat, "…Listen, Light… I didn't come all this way to rag on ya. Sorry if it feels like I am. You're just too young to be this unhappy and for once I just want you to let me in." She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair, "I know this mushy shit never came easy to you, but I think you need a serious break away from this city. You need to go somewhere else to clear your head… find something different to do with your life."

"Fang." I snapped, "I said I was fine here. Why can't you leave it alone?"

"Because you're like a god damn zombie right now!" She slammed her fist on the table and a couple of people sitting over by the bar turned to look in our direction. Fang leaned in and lowered her voice, "You know what you do, Light? You sit around in that god damn cathedral all damn day transcribing shit from ancient tomes that no longer have any relevance in present day society. You preach about how it helps you, but I've seen it do nothing but hurt you." She fingered the rim of her drink, "…And I know why you do it. I've always known why you've done it.

"And why is that, Fang? Entertain me as you've been doing for this entire day."

"Your bloody father is dead, Lightning. No one is passing judgment on you for feeling the way you do." She shook her head, "Your ma would have never wanted something like this for you. You, along with everyone else knew how much she loved you and Serah. No matter what the two of you did. Just look at what happened when Serah—"

"Don't you say another word, Fang." I said, rising from my seat. "Don't you say another word about Serah."

"She's not dead. No matter how much you want to make yourself believe that she is…" Fang trailed off. She glanced down at her unfinished glass of bourbon and the barely eaten nachos in front of her. "…Light."

"Enough. Get the check, Fang. It's time to go." I finally said with a sense of finality that I knew she was tired of fighting.

-x-

We walked along the riverbank just as the sun was beginning to set. Neither of us appeared to be in the mood for talking again. This always happened when Fang came to visit. She was always worried about me. Always concerned that I was shutting everyone out. I was never a social person to begin with, but she claimed I'd gotten worse with my mother's passing.

"Why do you always do this?" Fang asked me as she took a seat on a bench near the river's edge. She raised her gaze to the sky, briefly catching a glimpse of sun before it disappeared behind the massive cathedral. Everything in Luxerion seemed to be oriented in the direction of the cathedral. "What's the deal with you and the sun?"

"You rise with the sun, you sleep with the moon." I replied, crossing my fingers over my chest. "I'm merely paying respects to the maker..."

"Etro?" Fang asked, "Can't be Lindzei or Pulse, those crazy ass bastards."

"Bhunivelze…" I murmured, "…Well… Etro, too. I suppose."

Fang waved her hand, "Come, pity poor Etro, she was left all alone. Her blood pouring forth, in Chaos to atone. Queen of nothing, goddess of death - so let her be known. I'd say you two have a lot in common, Light."

I turned around to face her, "How so?"

"Legends always paint Etro out to be this melancholic deity. Always feeling compassion for humanity and recognizing their faults. Yet, she kills herself because her father wouldn't pay her any attention. She's like this lost child seeking some type of acceptance from someone who will never give it to her. She's always there to guide, but there's never anyone there to guide her when she becomes lost."

"…She's a goddess, Fang. How could she possibly be lost?"

"She killed herself because her father viewed her as defective, didn't she? Wasn't it because he thought she looked too much like Mwynn?" Fang shrugged, "She was given the short end of the stick from the moment she was created. Like she was destined to fail in life before she even got the chance to succeed."

"Gods are infallible." I replied, "And Etro found a greater purpose even when Bhunivelze saw nothing in her. Yes, she suffered. But it was for a greater cause and we were created as a result of it. There has to be some type of meaning in the suffering that she endured."

"Not all suffering brings wisdom, Light." Fang replied, "Some shit you go through and nothing good comes out of it."

I lowered my fingers from my chest, "Are you saying I'm suffering for no reason?"

"So you admit it?"

"I didn't admit to anything." I said, "I'm asking what you think."

Fang rose from the bench and pocketed her hands into her pants again. "…I already told you what I think and you didn't want to hear most of it. I repeat myself over and over again hoping that it sinks into your head, but nothin' ever really gets through to you until it's too late…" She began pacing, taking long winding strides behind me, "You wanna know what I think, huh?"

"I'm asking you to tell me, Fang."

She stopped pacing and turned around to look at me, "I want you to stop denying yourself the basic right to feel, Lightning. I feel like someone has taken all of your emotions, bottled them into a pretty little mason jar and pushed them up on the highest shelf to rot away for the rest of eternity." Fang turned her attention to the cathedral, "That place is sucking you dry little by little and you can't see it… or maybe you know it and you just want to go on with this whole charade that everything is fine."

"Du Mu, an old Chinese poet once said, 'Too much emotion is like none at all'." I said, "I won't be a slave to carnal impulse and rage."

"…You mean you won't be human? Is that it?"

"You don't understand, Fang." I exhaled loudly and turned away from her so that I could watch the last dying rays of the sun bathe everything in its blinding, aureate light. "You're not me. You will never be me so you can't possibly understand why I have to stay this way."

"You're an adult, Lightning." Fang countered, "A young adult whose living like she's at the end of her days. I've never seen someone as young as you are so despondent about … about everything."

"Do you know, Fang? Do you know what it's like to sit in a room full of people and feel isolated from nearly everyone that surrounds you?" I asked, "Do you know what it's like to constantly be told that you aren't worthy of living just because of something you can't control? Just because you were created in a way that doesn't fit the mold of what society thinks you should be? I have lived for years with this affliction on my soul and I have done everything in my power to cure it and it just doesn't go away."

"…But there's nothing wrong with you."

"There is something wrong with me." I corrected her as I moved to sit down on the bench, "There has been something wrong with me long before you've known me and there will continue to be something wrong with me until the day that I die. I don't want to die and be committed to an eternity of damnation, Fang. I don't want to live in a constant cycle of rebirth where I try to atone for the sins of my past, only to have them thrown back into my face because I fucked up again in the next life."

Fang went quiet for a long time, her hands on her hips and her eyes cast down toward the ground. I folded my hands within my lap and lowered my eyes away from the blinding light that crashed into and cascaded off of the buildings that surrounded us. It was as if someone was putting a spotlight on me and trying to blind me into submission.

She finally turned to look at me just as I cleared my throat to speak again. "Light."

"What, Fang?"

"…Come with me."

I looked up at her, "Come where, Fang?"

She walked over to me, "…Just for the summer. …Come with me back to Yusnaan."

"I can't." I said, "How many times do I have to tell you this."

Fang reached for my hand and shook her head, "Yes. Yes, you can." She lowered her gaze to where her hand overlapped mine, "Light—no, Claire." I felt myself bristle internally when she spoke my childhood name, "Claire. This place is killin' you. You haven't been the same. You've fallen so far, I don't think you know what's right and wrong anymore."

"But this place helps me, Fang." I said, "It's going to fix me. Can't you see that?"

She shook her head again and turned so that she could grab both of my hands, "It's been years."

"I know."

"Years, Lightning." Fang said, "…Tell me how you've felt in these last few years since your mother passed? You still praying every day, right? Still spending endless hours with those oppressive idiots and you're still the same. Am I right?"

"Fang."

"I'm not going to take no for an answer." Fang said, "Please. Just for the summer and then if nothing changes your mind I'll let you come back here and I won't ask you again."

I sighed and pulled my hands away from hers. The sun was almost gone at this point and I knew I'd be facing another sleepless night where I would never be able to close my eyes and ease my breathing. Never able to sink into my bed and let the night envelope me in the way that my mother's arms used to when I was still a child. I would stay awake with a mug of tea clutched between my high strung hands and stare out into the streets beneath my apartment.

I would see them at night. As I sewed the needle tighter into my hand, watching the red thread grow and spin new and winding webs over the last inches of my skin, they would come out underneath the shade of the smiling moon. They weave secrets into the streets of Luxerion, dancing and laughing as they celebrated a folly all their own. They were happy. Men emasculating the other with their presence, women slinging their arms around hips better suited for birthing children.

I shut the blinds before I take another glimpse into their world. The songs of liberation are shut out against the rapidly warming glass of the rising sun. My mug trembles in my hands through the night. It slips from my hands as I press it to my mouth again and the hot liquid scalds my tongue. More pain, more pain, more pain. I sit down at my bed and pray. Hands laced together and bound tight. The sign of redemption is repeated over and over and over again in my mind. I need to feel more pain. I need to offer another sign of penance. I need to get these hands off of me; I need to get these thoughts out of my mind. I need to be normal, normal, normal, normal. NORMAL.

I awake on the floor of my bedroom, hands still tightly bound and bleeding. My wrists are sore and my mouth is dry. My head throbs. If I don't get up I'm going to miss morning prayer.

When I open the window that morning, I don't see them anymore. They are gone by the first chime of the cathedral's bell. They resume their normal lives as normal people. Their sins still linger over their heads, but no one speaks them in the light of the day. No one talks about what happened last night. No one breathes a word of what God will condemn them for. But they know. Everyone knows. Everyone knows and yet they don't say one word.

But, I can see their hands are as brutalized and bloody as my own. I see the markings of shame in their face. I see the stains of tears long since dried streaking down their tired and worn faces. The happiness that they found in the night is dissipated by God's shining light. They will have to pay for their transgressions. We take our places side by side; heads bowed and awaiting our eternal and divine retribution.

It is a never ending cycle. Over and over and over again. The world spins, it turns on and on and on. And I hold on, hands covering my eyes, curled upon the floor of the cathedral praying for it to end. I just wanted to be good. I just wanted to be happy. I just wanted to do what everyone expected of me. I just wanted, I just wanted, I just—

"…Lightning?"

Fang was holding onto my hands again. Hadn't I pulled away?

"What could I possibly find in Yusnaan that I don't have here?" I asked.

"…Me?" Fang tried feebly, "I ain't much to you these days, I know." She found herself laughing, despite trying to be serious about the situation, "But I'm a helluva lot better for you than the clowns in this city. I can tell you that much."

I looked down at her hands and then up at Fang, "It won't work. It's better if I just stay here."

"I'm willing to try." Fang said, "…Just give me the summer, Light. That's all I'm asking."

"Just for the summer."

She nodded, "Just for the summer."