Well helloo~ there, my lovelies. Welcome to my humble little ficlet!

Now, originally this particular story had been apart of my Aurikku iPod shuffle challenge, where I make a list of ten songs and write one shots for each of them. This was the third, and final chapter I had created for it, before taking it all down. Out of the three that I had made, this one was by far the favorite of both me and the few that have read it. After finding it in my documents folder, I decided to begin a rewrite. Some of you might recognize it, and some of you might not, but either way, from the very bottom of my heart, I hope that all of you enjoy this!

~*O*~

In the arms of an Angel,

fly away from here.

From this dark,

cold hotel room,

and the endlessness,

that you fear.

You are pulled from the wreckage

of your silent reverie.

You're in the arms of an Angel;

May you find some comfort here.

-"Arms of the Angel"

There has always been that one particular storm in each generation of people that, in some way or another, everybody was connected to.

One could always know when it was coming, too; they could feel the hair-curling crackling of lighting in the air, taste the bitter, acrid rain. The earth-quaking thunder clasps felt as if though they would scream and screech and shout at any given moment.

It started with the freezing cold water droplets.

A crackle of thunder vibrated across the sky, and if you had been paying attention you could have seen the bolt of lightning that shot through the clouds. The clouds would roll in, greedily swallowing the sunlight, throwing the city into total darkness. When the storm was finally ready, the winds and rain all whooshed out in one dramatic sweep of cold, iced water.

Everybody ran.

People ran for shelter, to be the ones that managed to receive an ounce of protection before hiding away inside one of the buildings. Others weren't so lucky, having to cover up with their jackets or bags or a newspaper that would do nothing to shield them from Rajin's wrath. Everyone stampeded and ran for a warm, dry place to hide, not knowing where they were going or what they planned to do once they got there.

It was in the very center of the monstrous storm, one lone figure stood out, cloaked in the darkness of the blackened clouds. It was neither running, nor was it driven into a frenzy by fear of the storm. It was a very odd creature; its head was large and curled inward, swooping over and shielding the rest of the body. Its right arm had an unusually large weight bearing it down, making it look deformed and lumpy. It swaggered down the sidewalk with neither care nor concern.

It was a frightful sight, added with the effect of the terrifying lightning claps, to any unlucky soul that happened to stumble upon it.

This odd creature neither had luck nor was it unlucky. It could bear the weight on the rain; politely ignore the thunders booming rage. It could withstand the chilling water as it completely froze the air around it. Some might say it was a phantom, it couldn't feel the elements at all.

As it walked under the lamplight that stood on the empty, flooding streets, one could clearly see the pair of pale, long legs that was connected to a soft, warm female body. An encasing black umbrella threw her whole face into a shadow, causing her to look like an enigma, perhaps even the haunted phantom people saw her as. She strolled, she moved on calmly, unafraid, fearless. She walked further down the sidewalk, and was thrown into shadow once more.

When she reached the corner of the small block, she removed the umbrella, allowing herself to be bombarded with the freezing cold iced water. Her blonde hair shone in the darkness of the city like a beacon of light, her creamy shoulders exposed to the elements of the fierce, relentless downpour.

An earth-shattering, ear-piercing clap of thunder boomed across the sky, vibrating the very air.

The girl looked up to the sky, and frowned slightly. She stood there for a few seconds, staring up at the sky, looking for an answer to her mysterious question that no one could hope to understand. She stood there, like a frozen statue, until her pink lips started to turn just a shade blue. She breathed, and a puff of white mist escaped her lips and she turned towards the elegant building on the corner of the block.

Tucking the black umbrella under her arm, she reached for the handle of the door and pulled it opened, stumbling inside.

Rikku sighed in intense relief as the warm air of the hotel blasted past her.

The interior of the hotel was a completely different world to the gloomy chaos of outside. It took a good few seconds for her to adjust, shivering slightly. The ceiling was painted gold, the walls decorated with beautiful artworks created by people whose names she couldn't pronounce. Tapestries and rugs littered the floor. A giant crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, so magnificent that even after her third in encounter with it, Rikku could not help but stare.

Inside for naught but a few seconds, a small puddle had already formed around her, her hair still dripping profusely. Shaking the water out of her umbrella, she shook her floppy, golden hair around like a wet dog, throwing tiny water droplets on the other guests around her. She was met with many dark looks and glares.

She began to saunter further into the elegant lobby, a trail of mud following behind her. The people began to mutter, throwing quiet insults back and forth about the mysterious stray dog that had someone found its way into the hotel. Rikku happily ignored them, throwing on a lopsided grin as she approached the concierge desk.

"Hey Al!" she said excitedly, uncaringly heaving her wet suitcase onto the clean, pristine desk. 'Al', a kindly gentleman well into his sixties, smiled, looking fairly happy to see her.

"Miss Rikku," he said. "A pleasure, as always, to see you."

"As always." She pantomimed tipping her hat. "I'm gonna need my room key ASAP, Al. I have a date with my shower and plenty of hot water tonight." Al chuckled and obediently reached into the drawer of his desk, his shaky hands searching for the key to her room.

"Yes, it's quite the ruckus outside. Everyone's scared-stiff." He looked back up at Rikku, his warm, grandpa grin returning. "I hear that your big tournament was today. How did it go?"

Her bright, lovely smile dropped for a second, a fevered look darkening her eyes. She was quiet. She abruptly shook herself, her glassy smile returning. "Ah, it went all right I guess. Got second place; lost to a jerk named Sorrel." Her cheeks puffed up angrily, like a child thrown into an temper tantrum. Al chuckled.

"Still, second place isn't bad, not at all."

He knew that those words were practically lost upon her. He had only met this mysterious girl three days ago as she checked in to a room on the fifth floor. Only four times have they ever actually interacted, but truly that was all anybody needed to know how Rikku functioned.

He knew that if she thought she wasn't the best, if she didn't get that first place trophy, then she wasn't anything. Second place meant nothing to her. He remembered quite fondly how she almost had a meltdown in the breakfast room when she was third in line for the bagels. She was just so different from the rude, snobbish people that normally occupied this hotel, that he would just ignore her strange little quirks. Truly, they were quite endearing to him.

He placed one old, withered hand on top of her cold, wet one.

"I'm sure you did fantastic, Rikku," he said comfortingly. She smiled again, though it had lost some of its shine. She was obviously exhausted, and so Al held out the tiny key to her. "Go rest up; no one's going to be leaving here during a storm like this." Rikku held up the key, observing it. Her small hand made the teeny key look almost normal sized.

"Yeah, you bet," she murmured, dazedly lost in thought. Heaving her suitcase over her shoulder and tucking the enormous black umbrella under her arm, she began to walk down towards the elevator room, leaving the world of gossiping nobles and pristine floors behind her. "Sensei always said that you win when you lose anyway"—she turned around and gave Al one last goodbye smile, along with a tiny wave—"so in reality I totally dominated that fight!"

She could hear Al chuckling all the way to the elevator room, past where the tile met the carpeted floor.

It was a few minutes before she finally reached her room, a cozy little den located on the fifth floor. Unlocking the door, Rikku had to use nearly all of her willpower to resist the urge to strip then and there and flee into the warmth of the shower. Once she shut the door behind her, the room was casted into total darkness. She didn't bother flip on the light. Sinking tiredly onto the floor, she stayed there.

It was the first time her body had ceased being in motion for the last fifty-two hours.

Ugh, he would have killed me if he had seen the way I was training. "Your body isn't a machine, Rikku; you need to let your body rest, Rikku." Blah blah blah blah blah.

Reluctantly pulling herself off of the floor, Rikku tossed the travel bag onto the sitting chair in the corner and propped the umbrella up against the wall next to her bed. The room was a little bit decrepit for 5000 gil a night; the bed was a bit too lumpy, the curtains were a bit too yellow. There was a mysterious stain on the ceiling and she could have sworn that a ghost was haunting her toilet. But at the time of purchase last week, she had been far too preoccupied to really care. Besides, she had barely spent any time in the hotel anyway. The downtown gym had been fairly time consuming.

The shower, however, was excellent. Peeling off her soaked, sticking clothes, and undoing her hair of all the beads and designs, she ecstatically hopped into the gushing warm water. Thoroughly distracting herself to the point of numbness, she stayed put in that shower for a good hour, scrubbing her skin till it was shriveled and pink, and falling in love with the delightful, rosy smell of her shampoo.

Not even considering leaving until her hair smelled like a flowery garden, she began to process of rinsing off the soap, before reluctantly turning off the water.

Stepping out of the tub, she winced as the chilly air kissed her skin. Quickly drying off with a complementary fluffy towel and donning orange pajamas that were twice as big as her, she kicked aside her dirty clothes and walked back into her hotel room.

It was casted into complete darkness now, and she could see the silhouette of the pouring rain outside, bombarding her window. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself, still slightly damp from the shower.

Rikku stretched, and yawned, the plop-plopping of the rain already lulling her into a daze.

There was no hesitation as she ran across the room and dived into her bed, completely welcoming the softness of it, lumps and all. Having been in constant motion for the last two days straight, it was increasingly difficult to sink into the mattress like she had hoped.

Releasing a deep, calming breath, she readjusted herself and laid on her back, staring up at the ceiling. The rain did well to soothe her, distracting her from her emotional plight. A crackle of thunder rippled across the sky, reminding her of a growling tiger, stalking its prey, hiding in the bushes. She stared at the ceiling, and stared and stared and stared, refusing to simply grow tired and fall asleep.

She turned around curled up into her pillow, staring at the wall. She closed her eyes, she counted backwards from one hundred, she punched her pillow, she envisioned sheep dancing over a fence. She did everything imaginable, restlessly shifting in her bed, waiting for sleep to finally come, placing all of her energy into repressing the throbbing emotions.

Ooooh! Go to sleep, you!

Her mind continued to try and think, rudely ignoring the protests of her exhausted screaming muscles. She forcefully tried to repress her thoughts, curling up deeper into the sheets until she was in a solid cocoon. All of her suppressed emotions, the feelings she had been trying to beat out of her since day 1 of training, began bubbling up.

The anger, the dissatisfaction, the frustration.

She didn't give up, fighting even harder to ignore the welling tears in her eyes. Her humiliating defeat at the hands of Sorrel played over and over on a loop underneath her eyelids. His block, her kick, and then his uppercut…the pain that had erupted in her stomach, the sting of defeat, the cheers of the crowd, the cheers for him

She had just been too tired to see his uppercut.

If Sensei had been there—

Rikku cut herself off, burying her head deeper and deeper into the pillow. The voice, that horrible little voice, would not be suppressed. It rang, loud and clear.

He would've been so disapp—

She winced.

At that point, Rikku completely blocked the horrible voice. She knew his lessons, she knows the cause of her defeat; but her logic at the time, as she was faced with the challenge of the tournament, she just couldn't have allowed herself to lose, not under any circumstances.

I should have listened. Nothing good ever comes out of ignoring Sensei's teachings.

But she didn't listen. And it had been her undoing.

It was all too much. The engulfing darkness, the thumping of the rain, the memories of him.

But Rikku was tired of fighting this; tired of trying to ignore the pain in her chest for so long.

I'm tired…I'm just too tired…

And like that, Rikku just gave, and she slowly slipped away as the images bombarded her.

It was raining.

When you live a life of hopeless darkness, it always seemed to be raining.

People would run, hidden underneath their umbrellas as they rushed to get where they were going, running to a destination they had no knowledge of. No one knew where they were going, truly. They had a purpose, though, a goal. The storm drove them on, making them get out of the rain.

They took no heed of the stricken little girl poorly hidden away in a tiny corner of the decrepit deli shop.

One wouldn't even have known it was a small child unless they truly looked at her. Hair, once golden and flowing, a crowning glory, hung limp and lifelessly around her shoulders. Her skin was as pale as snow, her lips icy and blue. Her tiny little corner offered little to no protection; all she had was a tattered blue scarf she had draped over her head.

Her tiny, frail body shook with a series of violent, sickeningly loud coughs, before curling back up into a tiny ball. Her cheeks were tinted green. Her body was shaking, working to feverously to warm itself, not aware of the hopelessness, of the inability to care anymore. She had no choice but to withstand the torrent, too weak to even get up and scavenge for some of the rotten food in the dumpster. She just watched as the multitude of feet shuffle around her, too tired to cry out for mercy.

She didn't even have any energy to react accordingly when a pair of big black boots suddenly stopped in front of her. She had barely even noticed it, her eyes glossy and glazed over from years and years of crying. When the twin boots slowly approached her, she thought that she was merely hallucinating, her fevered mind acting up. Even still, she curled deeper into her tiny crevice, wishing she could just sink away into the earth and never reemerge.

The boots, however, wouldn't leave. They actually began to scare her, her head filled with images of God's feet coming to finally snuff her out of existence. She curled up deeper and deeper and deeper, too pathetic to run far away.

She was totally unprepared when she felt a mighty hand gently rest on her forehead.

Her heart stopped. Her mind froze.

Please, God…I'm not ready yet…

When several seconds had passed, and Rikku realized that she was neither dead nor dying, she slowly, slowly looked up. An overwhelmingly powerful man in a thick red coat stared down at her. There was an umbrella over his shoulder. His eyes were shielded from her by broad sunglasses. She remembered thinking how odd it was that he was wearing sunglass on such a horrible day. It was that thought, specifically, that drained the fear out of her, and her childish curiosity piqued.

"Come."

His deep voice seemed to vibrate the very air around her, crackling the air more than the thunder claps could ever dream of doing. It caused a sturdy sense of awareness that she had never experienced before.

She never realized prior to that moment how close she had been to death.

Try as she might, Rikku could never remember what had happened as she walked down that sidewalk alongside this stranger. Too weak to move on her own, she let the mysterious man help her onto her feet. Underneath the protection of the umbrella, she could already feel the pain of her frozen nerve endings warming themselves up. It was a good kind of pain; she could soon feel her hands again. She remembered that.

He took her to a little bagel shop. He bought her hot chocolate. She didn't even have to ask; she never even had to speak to him. He didn't say anything to her either, calmly drinking his own hot tea. The hand that had reached out to her before was now tucked inside of his arm sleeve, as if though some makeshift sling. It was peculiar, but so many other thoughts preoccupied her tiny mind then, she barely noticed. She just stared down at her fresh, warm food, unsure of what to do, not having eaten from an actual table in very long time.

Eventually, her growling stomach became too tempted by the swirling smells of the café. Like a leaping lion, she greedily gobbled down the creamy bagel, not being able to eat it fast enough. Her taste buds erupted with painful pleasure as the fresh bagel was stuffed into her mouth. It had been so long since she had had anything truly edible to eat, having survived off of the food that society itself deemed unworthy, that she was sure her taste buds had long since died.

She quickly moved onto the hot chocolate, the molten drink burning her throat as she chugged it down. She had never tasted anything so rich, so deliciously wonderful, that she didn't even care of the pain. She just continued to eat; and eat and eat and eat and—

"Don't eat so fast," the man calmly commanded from behind his thick neck strap. "I know you're hungry, but you'll upset your stomach."

Once again Rikku was plagued with the tingling sensation of the man's resonating voice. She couldn't pinpoint just what it did to her, only that the absolute despair of the rain seemed to vanish. It made her angry, angry that she didn't understand, angry at her confusion, angry at him.

"I can eat how I want!" she complained, her throat raspy from sickness and disuse. She knew that adults hated it when a child would talk back to them or show any signs of disobedience. She had done it many a time before to know how it worked.

This time was different. The man made no signs of growing angry, or even annoyed by her rude comment. He just sat there and stared calmly at her with his unseen eyes.

Like any child who didn't get what they wanted, Rikku snorted and huffed, now wolfing down the food as fast as she could, slurping her hot chocolate which stained her cheeks and lips. The other patrons of the café openly stared. He didn't seem to even notice them, staring only at her, calmly sipping his tea. It infuriated her, yet at the same time she had the decency to feel slightly ashamed of herself.

The man bought her more food and drinks, nothing for him else his hot, seemingly black, tea. Eventually, as the man continued to make no reaction, she lost her fervor and ate the bagels slower, the shame from her childish tantrum welling up inside her chest. Not knowing how to apologize, for she had never had to do something like that, she picked up a napkin and wiped her face clean.

This man had scooped her up off the streets and fed her warm food when she had been minutes away from death. She owed him what little manner's she had learned.

In a whirlwind of colors, Rikku suddenly found herself back outside, protected from the awning of the tiny café. Already she could feel the familiar chill of the unforgiving rain, and had already begun to sorely miss the warm air of inside.

Yet inevitable despair didn't completely crush her, not yet. It made her feel more than unsettled, but at the same time she was intrigued.

Surely he didn't go through all that trouble just to feed her bagels and chocolate. What more could he want? A better question was; what did it mean for her? Perhaps it didn't mean anything; maybe he just took momentary pity on her and now he was going to leave her forever again.

That thought saddened her more than the knowledge that soon she would have to venture out into the rain again.

"Thank you, mister," she said, trying to keep the crushing anguish out of her voice. Instead, she put on her brightest smile. "I really appreciate it!"

"Don't worry about it."

There it was; the tingling sensation that ran all over her skin like the feather of an angel. As she looked at him now, through the eyes of a well-fed girl who had no fear, she saw a courageous warrior who had the power to crush her without hesitation, has done such a thing before, yet was as gentle as the touch of a butterfly in the springtime.

What was this being? Surely it was not a human.

"Come with me." He held out his gloved hand to her. "I can take you to a new home."

Like that, her illusion broke.

A painful rush of memories swept over her, forcing her to remember just what the word 'home' had become to her over the few years of her existence. Those people, the liars, the betrayers; they always said that there is always a 'home' for everyone, even the children that no one wanted. But she knew what it was. A prison, a jailhouse, a place of torment where her pretend-parents would fake smiles and pretend to love her, all the while secretly hating her, hating that she wasn't the real daughter they could never have.

But in his presence she wasn't a heartbeat away from being completely crushed by her own anguish. He had made her feel. Angry, yes. Confused, most definitely. But it was something! And here he was, almost asking to steal her away and lock her up in the same prison she had sacrificed everything to escape!

No matter his mesmerizing ways; she just couldn't do it.

She was afraid of him.

The man seemed to sense her immediate decision even before she took a fearful step back. He didn't try to push her, to convince her that things would be better this way. He just continued to stare, as he had just done, and as he always will do. Nothing was said, but everything was known. At last, Rikku plucked up enough courage to whisper in her croaky voice.

"Please mister…I can't…not—not after…"

Despite herself, tears leaked from her eyes. He was angry now; she couldn't see it, but she was sure she could sense it. He was angry that after he had spent the time to feed her she was too stubborn, too irrationally afraid, to go with him.

She saw him move towards her, lift up his hand, and before she knew what he was doing she let out a sharp cry and flew her arms over her face. Many times has she been struck by an adult; it was the closest thing to a human touch she had ever had. Already she anticipated the sting of his blow, and the tears streamed even more.

Nothing happened. There was no pain.

Trembling, she peeked up from her defensive crouch on the ground. He had barely moved, save for his right hand which was held out to her, holding a large object.

It was his umbrella.

"That is your decision to make," he said, not even a single pitch in his tone. Rikku stared with wide, wide eyes, her jumbled mind numbed with confusion. He pushed it further upon her, insisting. "Take it."

Her paranoiac fear obliterated in the face of her bewilderment, her body betrayed her as she blithely grasped the sleek, black umbrella, once again entranced by his voice, unable to defy him.

"But—but I…you'll get all wet," she weakly protested, unable to resist grasping the clutch and opening it up. It swooped over her like the wing of a protective eagle. Rikku was dumbstruck.

"I'll be fine," was all he said. She openly gaped, completely unsure of what to say. What brought upon her next question was a serene mix of confusion, skepticism, and childish intuitiveness.

"Are you, like, an angel or something?" she asked.

He had chuckled.

Rikku never remembered him leaving, or what he had said to her once he vanished. He just wasn't there anymore, blotted out of existence. All she was left with was the black umbrella, and the faintest inkling of the name 'Auron'.

As the years passed by Rikku knew that that wasn't going to be the last time she saw the mysterious warrior. Even as she took her first few steps out in the rain underneath the encasing umbrella, she could sense his imminent presence. He was there all right, if not physically, at least in spirit.

For many weeks after that fateful encounter she had terrible nightmares of a looming, shadowy monster that was coming to eat her, swallow her whole. She developed bags under eyes, would scream so loud that even the stray cats would grow annoyed with her.

When she was chased away underneath a park bench due to her night terrors for the sixth time, she began to firmly tell herself that she was being ridiculous, and eventually she squashed out the irrational fear. As she slowly started to mature and her fearful notion of him as a demon slid away, Rikku couldn't stop thinking about him and his mysteriousness. His cloak, his hands, his unseen eyes.

For many months she wondered what she could have done to catch his attentions like so, to garner any signs of courtesy. She was just a street urchin, a poor homeless girl who was seen by nobody, yet spat upon by everybody. Even the rats had wanted nothing to do with her. No one ever saw her.

Yet this man, he had seen her, had looked straight through her, into her very soul and uprooted everything that she had been.

What could such a wretched creature do to earn any kindness from such an odd creature?

And for many years, Rikku strived to make herself something worthy of such a man's affections.

A noble warrior like him would never trouble himself with her unless he thought there was something more to her than just the poor homeless girl. She knew that he was special; he knew that she was special; that was why he had plucked her up when no one else would even look at her. That's what she told herself; that was what she believed.

She would make her worth his time.

She kept on living, in the name of him, in the name of making him proud.

It was during one night, many years later, that Rikku had the chance to truly realize her goal.

She was leaving from the diner where she swept. The day was long, but despite her teetering exhaustion Rikku was filled with nothing but pride as she tucked away her fat purse into her pocket, a whole week's worth of payment. She was so obliviously happy that she momentarily forgot about all of her hard-earned street smarts, and by the time she tucked her gil away, it was far too late to go unnoticed.

She didn't even note the gang of muggers that was trailing steadily behind her until about six blocks later. At least, she didn't notice until one of them made a fairly conspicuous sneeze. She turned her head around sharply, heart fluttering as she set eyes on the three overly large men that were a mere twenty yards behind her. They were staring right at her, knowing that they had been seen.

She had lived on the streets long enough to know when to run.

The chase lasted for a good three blocks. Despite her slenderness and quick-flitted legs, they were no match for the men's sheer height, and in just a few minutes she felt as if though she could already feel their breath running down her neck. Rikku was most definitely in shape, but due to overwhelming panic and adrenaline she found herself panting for breath and keeling over in pain.

There were many close calls. Then muggers kept caterwauling, shouting at her, mocking her. Once or twice she nearly tripped, barely regaining her balance, and each time the shouts and cries would grow closer. No matter how fast she ran or how hard she prayed, she gained no ground.

Her little makeshift home in the park was too far away. Everywhere else was closed. She was all on her own without resources.

As she took the final turn, her legs growing weak and shaky, she tried one last technique. At the very last second, Rikku flung her arm out and clutched onto the lamppost, completely swinging around onto the adjacent street. It was so sudden and fast that her feet got some airtime before landing, her teeth chattering as she continued her death sprint. From the grunts of surprises she could hear, she could only assume that her plan had worked. Although it was a stupid thing to do, she turned around to glance at her handiwork, smirking with self-satisfaction.

Her heart nearly halted entirely when she plowed into a sturdy, immovable object. Her first thought was a wall; it was solid enough and felt like bricks. But when her hands clutched onto the surface, she felt something soft, warm, and decidedly human. It started to move and a sturdy hand grasped her shoulder in an iron grip. She dreadfully thought it was a fourth mugger and she had been successfully herded into a trap. She began hissing and biting and clawing, trying to squirm out and get away, before she suddenly realized something.

He wasn't trying to suppress her; he was merely pushing her to the side.

In a whirling motion that nearly broke her neck, Rikku snapped her head up, taking in the brilliant red cloak and black glasses that stood before her. The mysterious aura, his unfathomable eyes…

"Auron!"

The man confirmed it with naught more than a simple look, a look that beckoned her more strongly from anything she's ever experienced. In that two second window, the world had ceased to exist around her and him, and she was caught in the same spell once again.

The thugs weren't long before fleeing, easily intimidated just by Auron's fierce gaze. It was kind of silly, looking at them scamper away with their tails between their legs, the beings she had not five seconds ago thought were going to kill her. She actually giggled a mixture of sheer relief and partial comedy.

Her body unblemished and soul intact, Rikku quickly found herself at a complete loss of what to do.

Half of her wanted to break down into a sobbing mess of tears right then and there at the rediscovery of her long lost guardian whom had been unwittingly haunting her thoughts for the last five years. That part of her almost won out too; her eyes began to grow dewy and misty, something she hastily covered up with her fist.

The other half wanted her to scream and shout and stamp her foot in fury. Here was the man who she had just been ready to leave behind, the one that had not shown himself for five years, the one who left her alone. Where had he been? Why hadn't he come back for her when she knew the mistake she had made all that time ago?

The two warring sides of her mind were at odd ends and couldn't compromise, so she just stood there awkwardly, staring up at him with her mouth slightly agape, waiting for either of them to make the first move. This was the dream she had been dreaming about for years, a chance to prove that she was no longer a street urchin in the eyes of the only other human who thought her more than dirt, and for the first time in her life she had actually forgotten how to speak.

Not surprisingly, he had made the first move.

He smiled at her.

And so, shaking, she smiled back.

They went to nearby bagel shop. Auron got the same black tea he had done before, and Rikku briefly contemplated getting hot chocolate once again, before deciding against it and ordering some tea, as if to prove she had outgrown the drinking of sweets. The moment she took a sip of the black tea, she almost retched over, spitting out the tiny sip she had taken. He gave her a look over the hem of his neckband, but that was all. So much for looking grown up, she thought miserably as she wiped her mouth.

Within her tiny sense of embarrassment, Rikku felt slightly troubled. There he was, the object of her absolute obsession and adoration for years, the idea that motivated her into awareness, standing not three feet away from her and yet…did he even remember who she was? She had convinced herself that he knew she was special, that was why he had saved her from death. But…was that all a lie?

Does he even know my name?

Either way, Rikku found herself growing unbearably anxious in the quietness of the shop. It was late; no one was here, just her and him. Restless, she began to scan over his stoic facial features, hoping for some signs of recognition or familiarity. But it was exactly as she had remembered it; cold and distant with a dash of contemplation. He doesn't remember me… she thought, her euphoria from earlier quickly diminishing in light of crushing anguish. The least I can do…is remind him of who I am…let him know what he's done for me.

And so she opened her mouth, trying to resist the urge to begin her speech that she had been preparing for five long years, the speech she had reserved just for him in desire to see that look of overwhelming pride that she had assured he would possess. She opened her mouth, and breathed, a faint tremor in her voice, Hello, my name is—

"You've grown up a lot in the last few years."

Rikku was, for lack of a better term, completely blindsided.

And then her tiny, frail mind was completely overwhelmed by a multitude of emotions that all seemed intent on crushing her. Surprise, joy, shame, admiration, hope, love, and an overwhelming, nearly lethal sense of washing relief.

He remembered her.

He had never forgotten about her.

With the wink of an eye, she was off like a lightning bolt. She told him all of her accomplishments, everything from day one. She told him about her difficulty in learning how to read, how she was still struggling on writing, about her overpowering sense of pride upon receiving her own library card. About the diner in which she would sweep in late at night, about her sordid boss with a rat's face that saw here merely as cheap labor, about how she was able to actually go into a grocery store and buy fresh food, and fresh clothes. About how she had created her own home in the park and how she was planning to go to court and receive emancipated minor status and rent out an apartment.

She only barely managed to edit out the influence he had had upon her all those years ago.

The whole ordeal lasted for about an hour, long after the owners had given up trying to shoo them away. Rikku had put aside the ruined tea and ordered three cups of hot chocolate in the time it took her to finally finish up. Very, veeerryyy rarely did he speak or say a word, but Rikku could tell he was intrigued. He wanted to know, he wanted her to keep on talking.

And so she did, working diligently to unload five years of weight off of her chest.

When all was said and done, they both sat there, Auron staring at her, and Rikku staring down at her chocolate mug. There was nothing more that could be said by her; it was all up to him on what the next move would be.

But he didn't do anything. Neither of them said anything.

In another whirlwind of colors, Rikku found herself standing outside again.

It had begun raining.

Then, he said, "Where are you living?"

Rikku looked to him, her reluctance to answer evident.

"Oh…you know…here and there…" she said quietly. She mentally kicked herself, jolting out her uncooperative emotions. "Err, what I mean is, I have a little den on the east side of Central Park. Cozy little place; real swell!" Just thinking about it made her sick with grief.

The silence descended once again, Auron completely unaffected, while Rikku wanted to rip her hair out.

Again, he spoke first. "My offer of before still stands."

It was at this that Rikku bit her lip. She had long since carried the wonder about what would have happened if she hadn't listened to her ten-year old paranoia, if she had said yes to his proposal. It was a curious thing, and more than once she had surprised herself with wishing she had said yes. But Rikku enjoyed her new independence; she liked having the ability to do whatever she wanted.

Yet she just wasn't ready to let Auron slink back into the shadows of her past. Not yet.

And so, mastering the art of silence, Rikku merely followed after his dark form. Only because it's raining, she thought. Only for the night…

That night she got to sleep in a bed, her very own bed that she didn't have to share with a dozen other grimy orphans like in the old days. This one was clean, smelled like soap and sunshine and everything nice in the world.

The room had a certain feel of traditional Japanese mixed with a modern taste, if her futon was anything to go by, anyway. The whole house was like that; when Rikku walked through the threshold she had thought she stepped through the Twilight Zone and had been sent back five-hundred years into the past while never leaving the present. There was water colored ink paintings and posters, a plasma screen TV, paper fans with dragons on them, a stack collection of DVD's, a garden with bamboo fountains, a PlayStation3, a bunch of other things that made her head spin.

They had a TV, though. That was nice.

Overall, it was a refreshing change from life in the city. That night, Rikku got to fall asleep to the scent of a fresh pillow and the sound of a bamboo fountain clicking in the air.

The next day, Rikku thanked Auron and announced she was going to be leaving later that same day. When the words left her lips, though, they bothered her greatly. She figured she wasn't all too eager returning to her little den in the park after sleeping in such a comfortable bed.

She didn't leave that day, predictably succumbing to her nerves of the outside world. The day after that she once again announced the same thing, but still didn't leave. And she did it again. And the day after that, too. Eventually she began thinking it wasn't so much because of the wonderful luxuries the house possessed, like being able to take a proper shower for instance, and more to do with her newfound guardian.

She didn't want him out of her life just yet. She didn't want him out of her life ever.

Eventually she just began to forget proclaiming every morning her plans of leaving. Auron never said anything to her about it, though when she had finally ceased speaking about her imminent plans of leaving he seemed to smile a bit more. Not that he ever seemed upset with her anyway but…he did have a nice smile.

Rikku really liked living with Auron, though. He was a great host if anything, though bit lacking in the conversational area which Rikku would happily make up for. He was a very comforting presence, so much to the point that sometimes she didn't even feel the need to talk, a strange thing. As the years passed, Rikku became more and more intertwined within the life of the household. There was no paperwork, no official people coming over to finalize everything, but Auron began felling like family to her. Hell, he was her family; it wasn't like she had anyone else.

That was another really weird thing. What got her most was that even though she never talked about it, Auron seemed to know all about her past. How her parents died when she was little and was forced into an orphanage. How she eventually ran away and had been wandering alone ever since. She never had to say anything, but his all-knowing eyes, which still remained hidden from her, seemed to see everything.

And despite the new, intimate bond she shared with her guardian, she was painfully aware that she knew nothing about him. Nothing beyond that his favorite colors were red and black, and that he thought none too well of religious zealots.

The only evidence she had that he was actually human was a water-color painting of a much younger version of Auron with two other men, all of them standing side-by-side. When she asked him about it, he said they were two long-lost friends. Jecht and Braska were their names. He never elaborated about them, and she felt it best not to ask.

Probably the best part of the deal, even better than the fact that Auron made her eggs and breakfast every morning, was that she didn't have to go to a school. He gave her the choice, offering to send her to probably the most ridiculously expensive private school in the entire country, but she had laughed the notion away. Auron taught her, which was probably the main reason why she wanted to be homeschooled in the first place. She learned about anything that caught her fancy—math, science, art, history, even mythology. He knew the answer to every question that popped into her head, no matter how silly they were.

The best and most fun aspect for her was when he began teaching her Japanese. Not just the language, but how to write with symbols, kanji and kanja, the traditions, the culture, and the history of Japan itself. When they got to the rich, and flowing history of the Samurai's, that's when Rikku really got interested.

She read about the code of the Bushido on her down time, about how Samurai's valued nothing more than honor to their family and loyalty to their masters. The fact that samurai's started out as nothing more than mere bodyguards to paranoid feudal lords, that samurai meant nothing more than 'those who serve', that's what surprised her the most.

From humble beginnings, she had thought.

The deeper she delved into her self-imposed studies, as she never told Auron about that, the more she began to draw comparisons between the samurai's of legends and her very own guardian. It wasn't necessarily the bulking clothes he wore, or the massive swords he hung up in his room, but the way he spoke, the way he acted, would remind her of a time where loyalty and trust meant a lot more to a person than just words. Stupid as it may have sounded, the more she read, the more she felt like she had an inkling of understanding about what had made Auron the man she saw today.

Then she came across a word that both mystified and intrigued her. Rōnin. And a pair of other words, Japanese letters she didn't understand. Seppuku.

The words chewed at her subconscious, but no matter how hard she looked in Auron's little library of books, all of which contained information on feudal Japan, she just couldn't find her answer. It was during one day that she finally decided to ask Auron about it. Something about the words reminded her of him, but not in a way that inspired confidence.

When she finally plucked up enough courage, she approached him as he read quietly on his favorite sitting chair. "Auron?"

He acknowledged her with a simple 'hmm', his eyes remaining on the page. Licking her lips, she continued softly, "I read about these words a little bit ago…in that book you gave me…the Samurai one?"

"Hmm."

"I was wondering if you knew what…what a Rōnin is?"

He looked up from his book. He was looking directly at her. She wilted underneath his gaze, but swallowing her skittishness, she lifted her chin and continued, "And…what does Seppuku mean?"

Silence met her question.

Then he said, "Think of it as…rebellion."

Rikku blinked.

"In the code of a samurai, when your leader dies, you are meant to die with honor at your own hand, rather than in the hands of an enemy. You do this with a ritual called Seppuku, or hara kiri."

"Ritual Suicide?" she translated, tilting her head slightly to the side.

"Correct," he nodded. She could see a ghost of a smile on the corners of his eyes. "However, some men chose not to commit to that. These people are called Rōnin. They are said to be brought great shame, and are to remain alone forever."

Rikku raised her eyebrows, a small sense of surrealism washing over her. She didn't know why, but the picture of Auron surround by his two long-lost friends summoned itself in her memory. Jecht and Braska. Her gaze flitted to the arm that still remained tucked within his sleeve, her thoughts racing at a hundred miles per hour. "Is that…is that why you keep your arm like that? As…rebellion?"

Auron looked over the rim of his glasses, his one brown eye as crisp as an autumn tree.

"More like…a reminder, Rikku."

Heart racing, Rikku leaned down and poked him in his shoulder, smiling brightly. "Look at you Auron, being all bad! I wouldn't have thought you had it in you!" Auron looked tense when Rikku suddenly gasped loudly, her hands flying to her mouth. "So… you were like…an actual samurai or something?"

Auron did nothing but smile at her childish excitement.

After the revelation of the small link that Rikku had on Auron's past, she delved right in to anything concerning feudal Japan, especially the ways of the samurai. What interested her the most was the samurai's fighting style of choice—two distinctive forms called iaijutsu and jujutsu. Of course, Rikku was all over anything that had the word 'fight' in it, having had to teach herself how to sucker punch while living on the streets.

Rikku came to a sudden decision one day—she was going to teach herself how to fight samurai-style.

Considering that she had no interest whatsoever in touching one of those sharp, death swords, Rikku focused more on the form and power. Tucking away the manuscript, she subtly walked outside into the floating garden early in the morning and propped up the book, taking great care in memorizing the stances the way the book illustrated them. It was a little disorienting at first, as the book seemed to focus more on stances than actual punching, but when Rikku skipped ahead to the offensive section of the book, she was right as rain.

Her only concern at that point was avoiding Auron as she practiced. Much as she wanted to learn this new style of fighting, she didn't want to add the pressure of his watching eyes as she practiced, figuring she might as well keep it a surprise. So, when she heard the first sounds of movement in the house, she dove for her book and pretended like she had been reading the whole time.

It worked, or at least she thought it worked, for a few days. She tired quickly in the early morning air, and her muscles soon grew fairly sore, but a sense of accomplishment followed her ever time she successfully managed to copy the pose in the book and throw a good few powerful swings. The glow didn't last for very long though.

"You're doing it wrong."

Rikku nearly choked on her tea and looked up at Auron, whom was sitting comfortably across from her. He wasn't wearing his bulking coat, and his thick arms looked like tree trunks as they rested on the armrests. He was staring at her.

"I—uh, I don't know what you—" Rikku blubbered, trying to feign ignorance. It failed in the look of his withering glare. "How am I doing it wrong?"

"You're stance is too heavy. If you were in a fight you'd be punched out of oblivion in an instant." He took a sip of his own tea. "You're breathing is off, too. You'll run out of stamina faster the way you're doing it."

Rikku glared at him, a heady mixture of mortification and embarrassment. Her cheeks were stained a heavy red. "Okay, Mister Smartypants, why don't you show me how to do it?"

"As you wish."

He stood up.

Rikku blinked rapidly as he stared down at her, his biceps bulging. Never before had he seemed so menacing to her. She backtracked, shaking her head.

"Wait, I didn't mean that."

A few minutes later the two of them stood outside. Rikku was squirming uncomfortably, feeling as if though she had just been caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. Auron stared at her with the same intensity, his sunglasses reflecting the magnificent colors of the setting sun.

"You need to focus more on your breathing than anything else," he said. Through her embarrassment, Rikku found herself clinging onto his words, nodding. If she was going to learn anything about anything, it may as well been from the man who seemed to know everything. "If you breathe too fast, you'll get dizzy. If you breathe too slow, your body will be starved of oxygen and pass out."

Rikku began bouncing around on her feet, excitement and anxiety clawing at her stomach. "Okay, okay, so how do I breathe, old man?"

"That's for you to find out." She stood still, her expression quickly clouding with confusion. "Each person breathes differently, Rikku. It can sometime take years to understand the natural flow of your own body."

"Wha—years?" She exclaimed. "On how to breathe?"

She could see the ghost of a smile lighten up his face. "This is the most important aspect of martial arts—any style of fighting." He walked closer to her, placing his hands onto her exposed shoulders. Rikku felt jittery all of a sudden. "All it takes is practice, just like anything else. Start with breathing through your abdominal—fill up your lower lung cavity and work from there."

With one last look, he let go of her and began to walk back towards the house. Rikku felt blindsided, and wildly shook her head. "That's it? Not even a few punching stances or—"

He looked back to her.

Rikku sucked in what she was going to say next, and took a deep, slow, breath, before exhaling. "Right…See! I can breathe old man! This'll be a piece of cake!" She thought she heard him chuckle before he left her in the tranquil garden. Trying to shake herself of nerves, and the feeling she had just been thrown down a steep hill, she hopped over towards the shadiest nook, sat down, straightened her back, and began to breathe.

Okay, okay, meditation, I can do this, she thought encouragingly. Just learn how to breathe, is all. I've got this.

Sticking to her original routine, she got out into the garden every morning and just sat there, focusing on her breathing techniques. As the days slowly passed by, though, Rikku found herself losing interest. She didn't understand what the big idea was; breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. It wasn't like some mystical secret.

So instead focusing on breathing, Rikku found herself idly sitting outside, staring up at the clouds, and contemplating random things. Auron never approached her about it, and would talk to her as if nothing was going on. She knew that if she wanted to learn anything else pass breathing, she would have to approach him about it first.

It was during one day while they were having lunch outside, one week after his initial instruction that Rikku timidly asked, "Hey, Auron?"

"Yes?"

"Well…I've been doing like you said, you know, breathing and stuff, and…" Rikku gulped, feeling all kinds of wrong. "But maybe…if you would show me some stances I could—I could learn…" She trailed off; sure that she was making a fool of herself.

"Just keep on breathing."

She tried to bury herself into her turkey sandwich.

Two weeks passed and Rikku felt her frustrations slowly mounting. Too annoyed with her guardian she didn't even bother trying to hide that she wasn't practicing like he said, instead just going outside and reading a book. Pretty soon she didn't even go outside, just lying on the couch and watching TV. It made her insides squirm with displeasure, but Auron seemed to pay no heed to her apparent rejection.

Until one day after the three-week mark.

"So you've given up?"

Rikku lurched up into sitting position from her place on the couch, her face pale with fright at the looming figure leaning against the wall. Before she could even begin to process his implications, she jumped up to her feet and replied hotly, "I can't give up on something I've barely even started!"

He just stared at her. Rikku remembered old childish annoyance swirling up inside of her, the one that had always hated those dark looks. Why couldn't he act like the other adults and just get mad at her? Why did he have to look at her like that?

A sick feeling wormed it's way into her chest.

No...he is angry at her.

But it wasn't the poisonous kind of anger she would sometimes have nightmares about him possessing. He was just…disappointed in her. Disappointed that she had given up. Just...disappointed. She would rather he had yelled at her.

"I don't want to learn how to breathe! I want to learn how to fight—like you! I'm ready!"

Auron continued to stare at her with those damn eyes of his. Then, he said, "I will teach you what you wish to know."

Rikku backtracked.

There's no way it can be that easy.

Suddenly she was standing outside, across from Auron, in the lazing afternoon sun. Her heart was a pitter-patter as she stiffly stretched out her muscles, using up as much time as possible. He wasn't just going to teach her how to fight—he was going to show her.

While she was bounding around on the soles of her feet, trying to remain as subtle as possible in her attempts at stalling, he was as quiet as a statue. He had removed his bulky outfit, his thick, leather cord muscles exposed. When Rikku felt that her intentions were becoming insulting obvious, she took the fighting stance that had been illustrated in the book.

It's not like he'll really hurt me, she figured.

A few minutes passed with little to no movement, even though she was sure the fight had begun. Clearly he was waiting for her to make the first move. She teetered back and forth, wondering how she should go about, until she decided to try and test the waters.

Lunging forward, Rikku brought up her right fist and prepared to punch him in his abdomen. She never even got close; the minute her hand became at arm length, Auron lifted his arm and struck her wrist non to gently. All it did was redirect her course, and before she could stop herself she had sidestepped him and nearly tripped over her own feet.

Shaking herself, she turned around, trying to think of another offense. She tried to punch again, but this time aiming for his chest. Once again she found herself battered away like a mere annoying fly. This time she really did trip on her feet and she hissed as the wood rubbed painfully against her knees. Feeling her trepidation fade away only to be replaced by a rising frustration, Rikku stood up and moved into her own stance, the one she used when fighting thugs on the street, crouched down, shifting nervously from toe to toe.

She tried to deal a few more punches, all of which failed. The more times it happened, the more times she found herself jumping up immediately and trying to swing at him from behind. Her whole upper body soon began to clench with preemptive tension, and she placed as much power into her fists as possible. If anything it just made it worse, having actually been thrown into the air once or twice.

He never actually struck her, touching nothing more than her wrists or arms to toss her aside. He would just use all of the energy she was dishing out and use it against her, so much so that she actually clipped her own face. Her own sense of shame mixed with heady frustration created a near blinding fury as she doubled her attack rate, doing everything she could to wallop him just once.

Then she had attempted a well-aimed kick, swinging up her leg in hopes of trying to clip his chin. He had lunged up and grasped her ankle, holding her there. Panic clutched her heart as she tried to pull back her foot, jumping around on one leg. She screamed at him to let her go. Suddenly he began pushing her backwards and she had no choice but to hop along, clumsily trying to keep her balance. Before she had time to wonder, Auron had practically thrown her off the wooden patio, and she tumbled in to the shallow pond of the bamboo fountain.

She felt a koi fish brush pass her arm, but she was too blinded by fury to notice.

He was staring down at her, his eyes narrowed.

Back stinging, muscles sore, and spine tingling, Rikku lurched out of the water, dripping wet and enraged. Leaping onto the deck, she let out a broken cry and charged him, swinging her fist so violently she almost dislocated her shoulder.

He didn't just bat her away this time. He forcefully grabbed her wrist and elbowed her right in the gut.

Rikku let out a sharp gasp, pain exploding from her abdomen. All of her breath left her in a great whoosh of air and she stumbled around the length of the deck, clutching her stomach. Spots danced underneath her eyelids, and she could feel her lungs starting to contract, trying to supply their missing oxygen to her already starving body.

I can't breathe, she gasped, tears welling up in her eyes. Unable to stand, Rikku flopped pathetically on to the wooden dock, trying to remain conscious. I can't breathe.

Through her pain, all of her anger and frustration, a monumental wave of shame and humiliation washed over her. Auron suddenly appeared in her peripheral vision, looking like an iron giant as he loomed over her. Rikku could barely stand to look at him, and shut her eyes tight.

"It's about more than just fighting," she heard him say. He sounded closer, as if he was leaning down. One warm hand stroked her tangled hair. "It's about finding your balance."

Auron carried her back inside and gave her hot chocolate, along with a few painkillers. So sick and disgusted with herself, Rikku went straight to bed afterwards, trying her best to ignore the lingering pain of her stomach and the following shame of her guardian's regret.

The next morning, despite her protesting muscles, she found herself sitting on the wooden patio deck at the crack of dawn, returning to her original breathing exercises and meditation.

She had been the one to grow interested in the style of fighting; she had been the one to ask him to show her what to do, however sudden it was; she had been the one to ask him to fight her. It had always remained her choice and her choice alone. For her to just throw it back in his face like that, his own personal way of life, like it was some joke…she deserved to get elbowed in the gut.

She sat there for hours, long after she was sure that Auron had begun stirring as well. Every time she thought she heard movement her shoulders would tense up, wondering if perhaps he was coming to scold her again. Yevon knows that she would deserve it.

But he left her to her own devices, and soon Rikku forgot about the worming doubt in her stomach, or even the niggling pain that was still very much present. She just sat there, trying so damn hard to perfect her breathing. Focus, she thought. Focus, focus, focus…

She heard his heavy footsteps as he approached her. When she felt him sit down next to her, she unwillingly tensed up. Her bottom lip began to waver, trying to keep herself from screaming at him her regrets.

"Rikku."

She looked up. He wasn't looking at her.

"I'm glad that you're still trying."

Her eyes grew even wider, and in that instant, Rikku felt all of her doubts and fears and pain vanish in the blink of an eye. He wasn't mad at her. He wasn't disappointed at her anymore. Feeling her chest nearly bursting open with love and pride, Rikku shifted onto her knees and lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a death grip.

"Thanks Auron!" she cried into his ear. She heard him grunt, but she was too blinded by her own tears to worry about his own personal bubble.

At that moment, she decided to not focus on just learning a new style of fighting, or even on the whole 'inner balance' thingy. She decided to concentrate on the one goal that had kept her going for years, that kept her moving forward to the point that she wasn't just surviving, but that she was living.

She strived to make her guardian proud of her.

Eventually she began to like meditating; it soothed and relaxed her. Sometimes Auron would come outside and sit with her. She got the feeling he was just checking up on her at first, but the one time she actually cracked open an eyelid and look at him, she saw his eyes were closed too. He was breathing as well.

However much she now liked the soothing process of meditation, she never forgot what her goal really was. So when one day Auron approached her in the garden, out of the clear blue sky, and asked her, "Are you ready?" she looked up at him and passionately replied, "You betcha!"

He was a tough teacher, of that Rikku had no doubt in her mind, but every bruise he would inflict upon her just made her that much more aware of how much she wanted to continue training. When they would do mock fights, Auron would go into exquisite detail of how to use your opponent's own power against them.

She would go to bed with bruises all of her wrists and arms, feeling crankier than the devil, but with a clear-cut, pristine smile on her face.

It was during one day that during her conditioning exercises that she jokingly called him, Sensei. He had chuckled, and she liked the way the word sounded, so she continued to call him that for the rest of the day. It made more sense, the more she used. It didn't feel as much as a joke anymore. During the years of her training, Rikku started to formally call him 'Sensei.'

Eventually, she began to feel so good about her newfound fighting skills that she began thinking that she should try out for a tournament. One was starting up nearby; should she try out for it? Rikku didn't feel like enlightening her Sensei to her plans, figuring he might have said no. She couldn't bear the thought that he would think she wasn't ready.

She signed up for the tournament on her way home from shopping one day. When the form asked the name of her school, she scribbled just down Auron. That earned her many odd glances, which she didn't note.

After that, Rikku trained as hard as she could without telling her Sensei of her plans, waiting eagerly for the day of the tournament. If I win, he'll be so proud of me! she would rationalize. She didn't think about what she would do if she lost. When the time of the tournament came, she told Auron about how she was heading off to the library. He gave her a look from over his own book, but nothing else. She fled the house, heart pounding.

She faced her very first opponent, a thick, burly man with a mustache. When the fight began, Rikku took three deep breathes, and lowered herself into position. People were screaming and cheering, making it difficult for her to concentrate. Her opponent made the first move, and Rikku leaped back in fright when she felt the sting of his boot on her thigh.

"Cheater!" she cried.

The fight lasted for a good ten minutes, and the crowd made known of their boredom. Rikku would jump and dash away, trying to parry his attacks. The crowd continued to scream at her, in which she would shout a string of profanity back at them. Eventually her muscles grew too weak to dodge her opponent's throwing fists as they spun and held her in strangle hold. No matter how hard she struggled, she couldn't break his grip, and the referee called the match.

Rikku fled the arena, too ashamed to linger in the face of her own defeat. When she reached the exiting double doors, she paused and bit her quivering lip. Auron was there, waiting for her. She didn't even wonder how he knew of her whereabouts. Feeling the surprise wearing off, her tears returning, she wobbled over to him and buried her head into his chest.

"I'm sorry, sensei…" she snuffled."I… failed you…"

He wrapped a comforting arm around her, pulling her close, so she cried and cried into his chest. As always, Auron didn't say anything, merely listening to her quiet sobs.

Sometime later, Rikku found herself sitting on the couch at her home, pressing an ice pack against her leg and sipping some recently brewed hot chocolate. Auron sat beside her, his leg pressed against her own, and she noted with relief that he didn't seem too upset that she had lied about going somewhere without telling him. He looked troubled though.

"Rikku," he said, breaking the quiet. She reluctantly looked up from her drink."What did you learn from this fight?"

"That everyone in competition is a big fat cheater!" she said bitingly. She withdrew, shame welling up in the face of her mentor. He remained silent though, waiting for her to go on. Rikku licked her lips, and then continued timidly, "I guess…that I'm not the only one who would do anything to win."

"And what could you do with that?"

She blinked.

"That…I guess…that I shouldn't be taken by surprise if it happens again."

"So now you know."

Rikku blinked again, confusion welling up in her mind. Sitting up straighter, she leaned in closer to him, her pout evident. "And what exactly was that all about?"

Auron was silent for a few moments, contemplating her over the hem of his neck band.

"Rikku, always know that you will learn more from defeat than you could ever from victory."

Rikku was dumbfounded into silence. She was staring into the murky darkness of her drink, his words swirling around in her head. When Auron arose and left her in the dark living room, she didn't say anything to him about it.

"And, Rikku?"

She looked up.

"You won't ever fail me unless you've given up completely."

He said a quick 'good night' to her, and then he was gone. Rikku stared out after him.

Nothing good ever comes from ignoring Auron's teachings.

The next day Riku was up at the break of dawn, training with a newfound passion. She would make her sensei proud…she would even if it killed her!

She continued to try out for tournaments, never again carrying the same sense of urgency. She didn't win the next tournament. Or even the one after that. But every time she kept a bright smile on her face and congratulated whoever had beaten her, shaking their hands and calling them 'friend' afterwards.

It was a very long time before she finally got to first place. It was so many tournaments later that she had lost track, but she dominated with flying colors all the same. She was the champion. Never before in her life had she felt so proud. Rikku glowed, and she smiled for so long her cheeks grew numb. She held her trophy over her head and screamed until her throat was sore. Auron was smiling at her from his place in the stands.

She finally felt like she was worthy to call him her Sensei.

It has been twelve years since she had first met her guardian on that deli shop curb. Twelve years since the course of her destiny was forever altered by his hand. She had grown up so much since then; from a poor street rat, to champion of the Jujitsu Martial Arts Tournament. It was all because of him, because of the shining love she felt for him, and the affection he had given to her.

She should have known it was too good to last.

It had been shortly after her eighteenth birthday when he approached her. She had been reading a book, a gift from him, when he came to her room one day, and told her that he was leaving.

The way he said it, his voice so grave and serious, let her know immediately he wasn't leaving to go and buy her some more hot chocolate packets. So dumbfounded and confused by the statement, all she could think of to do was slightly nod. Auron wasn't smiling at her and he looked cold and distant. He left her to her book and a feeling of sick apprehension.

All night long she tossed and turned in her sleep, wondering the implications of his words. He was leaving? As in he was leaving her? Did she do something wrong? Did she say something to hurt him?

But for some reason it felt stronger than that.

All she knew, the only thing that she knew at this point, was that by tomorrow, Auron would no longer be with her.

It had begun raining outside. The torrent of the storm barraged her home, trying to rip up the foundations of the house itself. Lightning crackled, the rain churned, the thunder vibrating her till her teeth chattered.

Much like a child too scared to be alone; Rikku crawled out of bed and felt her way around in the darkness, trying to find the room that she ventured in only twice during her stay in his home. Shaking with fear, Rikku slowly pushed the door aside, just barely making out the form of her sensei in his bed. She tiptoed her way deeper into the room until she was at the very foot of his bed. She stood there, watching him, until she saw the form of his hand outstretched towards her.

And like that, Rikku felt her control break. Grasping his hand, she collapsed onto his bed and curled up in to his chest, crying uncontrollably. He was silent, comfortingly stroking one hand through her golden hair. She began begging him, begging him to stay with her. She could tell that Auron understood what she was saying, but he just kept on trying to comfort her. Eventually she began to cease her efforts, and she just cried into his warm chest.

It was as if though he was always meant to leave, and she had always known he couldn't stay with her forever. This was how it was meant to be, and no matter how long she cried, she knew she couldn't change that. And so she clung to him, and cried and cried and cried…

When the morning slowly approached her, the sun piercing through the black curtains of the room, Rikku opened her eyes.

It had stopped raining.

And she remained all alone on her hotel bed.

Blinking away the soreness of her eyes, she forced herself into a sitting position, trying to stave away the nausea that was threatening her empty stomach. Pressing the palms of her hands against her eyes, she tossed aside the thick blanket and stepped out of her bed, her feet tingling as they met the carpet.

It took a few seconds for a sense of reality to set in. Rikku felt like she was in another world; she didn't recognize the bed, or the color of the walls, or the sitting chair. Nothing but the jet black umbrella propped up against the wall.

Chest panging with a sore worse than her muscles, Rikku walked over and clutched the curtains, trying to resist the dizzying urge to curl up on the floor. She yanked the curtains back and almost blinded herself with the pouring sunlight.

There remained only a few scattered thunderclouds in the sky and just the lightest of drizzles pouring down the street. The storm was gone, leaving a decrepit Rikku in its wake.

A nest of slithering snakes knotted up in Rikku's chest, constricting her ability to breathe properly. Her agony was not unlike that which she had been battling last night, but instead of trying to fend off conflicting, uncooperative emotions, she instead found herself holding up the crushing anguish that was trying to shatter her heart. She stared to the outside world until her eyes almost melted, but when her headache became too much, she turned away.

When the Rikku of the past had slowly come to terms that her mentor was not coming back, she had packed her things, and fulfilled the promise she had made to herself when had first begun to live with him. She had left, unable to bear living where everything reminded her of him, of how he was no longer there.

She never saw him again, no matter how hard she looked. It was like he had never existed at all; people would throw her confused looks whenever she asked. He wasn't in any phone books. The police would just laugh at her.

Despair had slowly sunk its claws into her as she began giving up hope of ever feeling the warming presence of her sensei again. She couldn't bear looking at anything that reminded her of him; not bagels or hot chocolate or bamboo fountains. Not without having to subtly wipe away the tears that would pool over her eyes.

It was during one day that she was in the library, three years after her sensei's disappearance. She had been reading a book about feudal Japan, and she came a across a picture of a man that looked exactly like her missing hero standing alongside two men which distinctive features.

It took her a long time to realize that the painting was dated in the twelfth century.

It was the exact same painting that hung up in his old room.

The book went on to describe the tales of the legendary Sir Auron and his two warrior friends as they traversed the lands of ancient Japan. They would fight dragons, partake in wars. He was a mythical samurai who had died in battle many centuries before.

Feelings the knots wriggling in her stomach growing worse, Rikku reached for the clutch of the window and wrenched it apart. The humid, muggy air of outside nearly choked her as she stuck her head out of the window, but she paid it no heed as she glared up angrily at the clouds.

"HEY!" she screamed up, earning many odd, irritated looks from bystanders. She paid them no mind. "You think you're SO clever, hiding away up there, huh, old man? Well, let me tell you, guardian angels are OVERRATED!"

A fierce crackle of thunder met her cry. She shook her fist at the sky.

"Well, I've got news for you, old man! The minute that I get up there, THE VERY MOMENT, I'm going to make you wish you had never come back down here in the first place! DO YOU HEAR ME?"

Another rumble of thunder answered her, but it sounded more like amused purring this time around. Rikku bit her lip, the muggy air coating her face with a glowing sheen of sweat. They mixed and intermingled with the tears that were now freely falling down her cheeks. Reaching up, she rubbed her eyes with a clenched fist.

She would go on fighting. She would go on to face her opponent's bearing the fact that she was Auron's student. No matter the ridicule, no matter the people who believed her insane, she would go on fighting. In the name of her father, her guardian angel and, most importantly, her savior. And when she was finally ready, when her time was nigh, she would go on to rejoin him in the clouds of paradise, and make sure to give him utter Hell for it all.

"Just so you know, I'm going to train twice as hard for the next tournament," she murmured, her voice thick with tears.

Another scolding vibration of thunder rippled across the sky, one so loud many of the nearby pedestrians clamped their hands over their ears in fright.

"Yeah, yeah, old man," she muttered, slamming the window shut.

~*O*~

How peculiar is it that the official Aurikku Facebook site decided to host a contest involving a homeless Auron/Rikku being taken in by their other, just a mere week after I had begun my revision? Ah well, at least it gave me a deadline to work with. And I assure that none would have a plot twist quite this poetic. Angels? or Ghosts? HA!

Thank you all so much for reading this, I knew it must have been a chore! Honestly, I was not expecting it to be this long - my original version only had 4,000+ words! Nearly 15,000? WHAAAAT?

Please review! :D

~DM-sama