Author's Notes: I'm marking this as complete for now. I wrote bits and pieces for a continuation, but they might turn into another fic entirely; it's become kind of a monster. XD; This part here was originally a birthday gift for LoverofSilverHairedBishies.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the word order.
Everything in Perspective
The cry of gulls woke him with a start.
Auron tried to sit up, but unfamiliar voices and the pain in his head told him to rest, and he didn't have the energy to protest. After lying still for a few moments to get his bearings, he sat up properly and swept a glance over his present company.
He appeared to be aboard a small fishing vessel. A city loomed large on the horizon. Three men – the boat's crew, surely – were regarding him with open curiosity.
"Do you know where you are?" one of them asked, and Auron shook his head slowly.
"We're off the coast of Zanarkand," the man replied, apparently acting as spokesman on all three of their behalves. "We found you floating out here all by yourself; thought you were dead, but thankfully we were wrong."
Auron nodded, remaining silent. As the man began to ramble about shipwrecks and how odd it was that they'd found him and no debris, Auron marveled at his situation.
Zanarkand.
Jecht's Zanarkand.
He'd really managed to find it.
Thinking of his friend made his headache intensify as grief threatened to overwhelm him. He must not have been careful enough to conceal it from his face, because the fisherman suddenly broke off his tangent.
"Hey – are you okay?"
"Fine," Auron said quickly. Then, more to himself than to them, he added, "Perhaps this is the effect of Sin's toxin…"
"'Sin's toxin,' eh?" the man asked, and Auron noticed that his gaze had traveled to the ceramic jar at his side. "That's certainly a new one. Fitting, though."
Auron didn't bother trying to explain what he'd really meant. He'd almost forgotten that Jecht came from a world in which there was no Sin.
"I need to get to Zanarkand," Auron said finally. "I'm looking for someone."
"Who? Maybe we know 'em."
"A young boy called Tidus."
The fisherman scratched his head and turned to his two companions, who both shrugged.
"He's the son of a Blitzball player named Jecht."
At this, the three men's eyes lit with recognition.
"The great Jecht? Why didn't you say so? Can't blame you for wanting to go see him! But where have you been, man? Maybe you hit your head when you went overboard, hm? He disappeared almost a year ago…"
Auron resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"I know," he said thinly. "That's why I'm looking for his son."
After more idle chatter than Auron had felt particularly inclined to indulge in, the men finally brought him to shore as he'd asked. As he stepped out of the boat and gazed up at the skyscrapers stretching out ahead of him, he felt a dizzying sense of awe. It was like nothing he'd ever seen in Spira.
"So this is the great machina city," he murmured to himself. What had he gotten himself into?
The fisherman tapped him on the shoulder, much to his irritation, and pointed off down the pier.
"See that crowd? That's Jecht's place. They've got a memorial set up there for the people who've accepted that he's probably dead. You can't miss it."
Nodding his gratitude, Auron set off in the direction he'd indicated, making his way toward the crowd. The mass of people was gathered in front of what appeared to be a house fashioned from an old sailing ship. Jecht had often boasted about the strange design to himself and Braska; he knew he must be in the right place.
As he began the daunting task of pushing through the mob to the door, he overheard some of the conversation going on.
"I hear he's off on a secret Blitzball training expedition! Nobody's ever stood a chance against him before, but when he gets back, he'll be a god among men!"
"I heard his son's training to follow in his footsteps. I'd love to be the lucky one to scout that kid to my team!"
"If he's really training to be like his father, shouldn't he be on the secret training expedition with Jecht?"
"What if he really is dead?"
"Rumor has it that his wife is looking for a new husband already. Must be tough, being a single mom…"
Auron's lip curled with distaste at all the gossip. With one last unapologetic shove, he finally reached the door.
He knocked sharply. No one came to the door, but it swung slightly ajar at the contact. Grateful that none of the onlookers seemed to have noticed, Auron slipped through the gap and closed the door behind him.
He immediately regretted his course of action as a series of objects – a toy boat, a lampshade, a couch cushion – came hurtling at him from within the room's dark interior. Auron realized that all the shades were drawn despite it being midday.
"Get out of here!" a young boy's voice hollered at him. "It's bad enough you're all on our property, but now you're coming in our house uninvited? GET LOST!"
Auron caught the second couch cushion as it sailed at his head.
"Where is your mother?" he asked, tossing the item aside.
The boy stepped out of the shadows, and Auron went still.
The resemblance was uncanny – this was Jecht's son all right. The boy planted his feet apart and glared at him, his fists on his hips.
"Mom's busy."
"I need to speak to her."
"You and everyone else," Tidus said crossly. "Take a number."
Auron took a step further into the room, and Tidus grabbed the nearest object – a wooden coaster – and flung it at him.
"I SAID GET LOST!"
Much to the child's open annoyance, Auron caught the incoming projectile with ease. He set it on an end table and continued speaking as though nothing had happened.
"My name is Auron. Jecht asked me to take care of you. He's a good friend of mine, and I promised him."
A full range of emotions crossed the boy's face, none of them good, before finally settling on suspicion.
"Lots of people come by here lately claiming to be friends of his," Tidus spat. "You'll have to do better than that. You got proof?"
Auron thought hard. What could he do to convince this stubborn child of the truth behind his intentions? Storming past him into the house proper in search of the boy's mother would only feed his animosity, but Auron wasn't sure what else he could do.
The boy made the next move for him, however.
"I'll tell you what," he said, shifting from foot to foot and eying him suspiciously. "You get rid of all those jerks on the deck, and I'll go get Mom for you."
Auron accepted the challenge gratefully, although part of him still balked at having just negotiated this with a seven-year-old.
He returned outside without delay and raised his voice.
"The lady of the house and her son appreciate your concern but would like to be left in peace," he said with as much authority as he could muster in this strange new place.
A murmur of dissent rippled through the crowd and, as expected, someone gave voice to the mass opinion.
"And who are you?"
Auron drew himself up and announced, "My name is Auron, and I am to be this family's Guardian."
His statement, though completely serious, was met with a wave of derisive laughter.
"Is that so?" the man who'd spoken earlier asked, stepping forward to lean threateningly in Auron's direction. "And what difference does that make?"
Auron had had enough. Throwing his sleeve off to expose his sword arm, he drew his blade with a flourish and fell into his all-too-familiar battle stance.
"If you would challenge me, so be it."
The crowd took a collective step backward in alarm.
"Aa… haha… no need to get violent, man; I was just playing."
Auron didn't relax his posture one bit, and after a few moments of tense silence, the crowd dispersed. Only when the last person was out of sight did he straighten his pose and sheath his sword. He turned and reentered the house just in time to see Tidus dive away from the front window where he'd been watching the exchange from behind a curtain. Auron watched the boy expectantly, but nothing seemed forthcoming.
"I've fulfilled my end of the bargain…" he prompted.
"Mom's sleeping," Tidus said, far too quickly.
Auron was spared the trouble of having to call his bluff when a woman appeared in the doorway leading to the rest of the house.
"Tidus, please don't lie to people like that…"
The woman seemed more emotionally drained than frustrated by her son's behavior.
Before Tidus could protest, Auron swept past him to approach the woman. She sank onto the one remaining cushion of the couch that her son hadn't gotten around to throwing at him.
"You are… Jecht's wife?" he queried, and the woman's eyes darted to his.
"Th-that's right," she stammered. "You… you're a friend of my husband's?"
Auron nodded.
"He asked me to come here and offer you my assistance."
"He should just come do it himself," Tidus spoke up sulkily.
"He…" Auron struggled to put together an explanation that didn't sound crazy and, failing that, simply finished, "…can't."
Tidus's mother gasped, her hands flying up to cover her mouth.
"Th-then he's… he's…?"
"I don't know," Auron confessed, because it was true – who was to say if becoming Sin really constituted being alive?
"That's because you're lying," Tidus said angrily, storming over to stand beside his mother. "You don't really know my father, and we don't need your help!"
"Tidus, please," his mother implored him. "Don't be so rude—"
"HE'S the one being rude, Mom!" the boy exclaimed. "HE'S the one barging into our house like he lives here—"
"He does."
Auron and Tidus both stared at her in shock.
"You're welcome to the spare bedroom if you want it…"
"Auron," he supplied when she trailed off.
She nodded, radiating weariness.
"I'd be… very grateful for your help," she said tiredly, then stood up. "Please excuse me. I… think I need to lie down."
"Mom!" Tidus called after her retreating figure, but she seemed not to hear him.
Auron was left standing awkwardly in the center of the room with Tidus, who seemed to be struggling not to cry. Auron pitied him greatly, but had no idea what to do or say. Somehow, when he'd made this promise to Jecht, he'd expected something easier. Or, at least, he'd figured it would just… come to him, what to do.
He was shaken from his musings as he heard the front door open and close again. A quick glance around told him that it had been Tidus. He went after the boy and found him, after a few minutes of searching, on the uppermost deck of the houseboat, sitting with his knees pulled up to his chin.
Auron could hear him sniffling.
He cleared his throat to announce his presence, and Tidus leapt to his feet, whirling around even as he rubbed at his eyes with one fist.
"Why are you following me?"
Auron spoke quietly, keeping his voice level.
"You're obviously upset. I thought you might want to talk about it."
Tidus scowled.
"Not with you," he snapped. "You don't care."
"I do."
"Why?"
"Why not?"
"You said you came here because my dad asked you to take care of us."
Auron couldn't help but note the particular venom behind the word 'dad.'
"That's right," he affirmed carefully, not sure how the boy was going to react.
He sniffled.
"So you're just doing this for him. Not for me. You only care about him, not me. Just like everyone else. YOU'RE JUST THE SAME AS EVERYONE ELSE!"
'Jecht,' Auron thought to himself in dismay, 'What have you done to this child?'
Tidus tried to make a run for it, then, but Auron, making a decision, caught him deftly around his middle and carried him, kicking and screaming, back into the house.
"Let me go! LET ME GO!"
"Be quiet. You'll wake your mother."
"Good! Then she can kick you out like she's supposed to!"
"She can try," Auron said, "but I don't think she will. And even if she does, I have no intention of leaving."
Tidus struggled harder, and Auron let him go but stood in front of the door, barring his way out. Sure enough, the last of the couch cushions careened toward him, but he simply leaned out of the way and let it hit the wall beside him.
"If you're done with your tantrum, I want you to listen to me," Auron said, his patience wearing thin.
Tidus looked as though he wanted to protest, but curiosity over what Auron was going to say kept him silent long enough for Auron to press on.
"I made a promise, and I intend to keep it. Your father…" Auron scowled, trying to come up with something a seven-year-old might understand. "Your father is somewhere far away, and it's taking him a long time to get back. I beat him here, so until he gets here himself, I'm going to fulfill my promise and watch over you."
Tidus looked at him skeptically.
"You beat my dad in a race back to Zanarkand?" he asked.
Not quite understanding what the boy was getting at, Auron just shrugged.
"You beat him?" Tidus pressed.
"Yes. I beat him," Auron assented, puzzled.
Tidus circled him, inspecting him as best as he could from his diminutive height, then stood back and nodded.
"I guess you can stay, then. For now. But only because you beat my dad at something."
Auron stood slack-jawed in the middle of the room, thankful for the high collar on his jacket. He did not need this impertinent child to see the blatant shock on his face.
Tidus, clearly oblivious to the fact that he'd just stunned Auron with his odd brand of logic, proceeded to lead Auron down the hallway to where the spare room was located.
And so, with Tidus's permission, Auron's new Guardianship began.