Conversations with Coats
Playing with perspective here. "Talking" 'Interpreting or thinking'
The coat was all she could see most days. It would consume her vision until she was unreasonably fascinated by it.
It was just there, like a bloodstain on chrome, and it was always there, just like the man inside the coat.
It blinded her as if she had accidently glanced at the sun.
The coat was in front of her in the marching order most of the time-at least after the first stretch of road to Guadosalam. It was hard to get away from it, particularly when she didn't really want to.
Her gaze was always drawn to it, and the enigma that it harbored, like it was part of her vision, or the background to the scenery. If she was up in a tree examining a flower, the flash of red drew her focus away.
The coat was the lone pillar of strength: the rigid expectancy of discipline and order.
It flowed, much like the rush of blood that inevitably followed the swift retribution of his powerful blade.
It was intimidating, and he knew it. The coat had the habit of pressing against her vision like the lingering touch of a lover.
Rikku frowned, rubbing her gloved hands against her bare shoulders in a futile effort to keep her appendages warm. She had only known him for a few weeks, but he was the most constant thing she had ever encountered in her life.
Like that coat for example: he never took it off… ever.
Not even in Bikanel Island where he hadn't once unbuckled his belt, and shrugged it off to cool his skin with the breeze.
Now, they were in the Macalania forest again, heading towards the Calm Lands, with Yuna safely in the custody of Tidus' arms.
Rikku was thinking about sleeves, unlike her cousin who was certainly preoccupied with the revolutionary idea of arms.
She never saw his arms except in the face of impending doom or potential death.
She never had time to see beyond the coat. And that was irritating.
Totally fed up with herself and her thought process for letting her train of thought delve that deeply, the little Al Bhed thief made up her mind. She was about to do something that was either very brave or very stupid. She picked up her pace a little to walk alongside the older guardian.
"Auron?"
"Hm."
Always a "hm" from him if she was the one talking, but that wasn't going to deter her-it hadn't before.
She was always the one bugging him for some conversation. Kimahri just didn't say anything, not even non-committal "hm" sounds.
So- Auron was the next best chance at quenching her thirst for knowledge. It also helped that she was a tiny bit intrigued by him. Which was, she thought with some petulance, a tiny bit of an understatement.
She had learned that a "hm" could mean many things; it was usually a substitute for a philosophical lesson that one will learn later, if not in a harder manner.
For example this "hm" accompanied by no movement of the coat and a very slight tilt to the head was, in fact, a patronizing way of saying, 'Please continue with what you were going to say, that was obviously so important that you had to interrupt my walking pace.'
Well... he probably didn't say all that, but it was a good way to kill time.
"Why dontcha ever take off that red thing?"
"Why do you need to know something so inane?"
"Just 'cuz."
Actually it was not "just 'cuz," and Rikku thought that he knew that too. Just as she knew his "hm's", he knew her "ya know's" and her "cuz's."
He intoned a baritone, "Hmm."
The elongation of the rumble indicated that he was a smidgen displeased, slightly annoyed, and just a tad suspicious. The cock of the neck upwards made it so she knew he was focusing on her, and the shifting of the red monstrosity told her that he was having none of her nonsense.
She sniffed. 'Why do you care?'
The coat shifted where his resting arm laid. 'I do care whether or not it is inane. I care what is up your sleeve. It is preparation and good time management.'
She swung her arms and minced her steps, 'I'm getting impatient for your answer.'
He peered down his nose, his glasses sliding forward, the blood red material straightening into rivers on his back. 'I am fully aware of that.'
Rikku was getting irritated now. "So?"
Auron stopped abruptly, looked towards the edge of the Macalanian forest, and stepped slightly in front of Rikku, almost protectively.
Rikku watched as he slid into his powerful fighting stance, smoothly ripping his resting arm out of his red coat.
The sleeve of his coat fell as a prelude to the rush of blood.
He glanced toward her before he swung and quickly dispatched the Barong. She ran and mugged the other and he took care of it before Tidus could even get in a swing edgewise.
Tidus complained, "Aww... guys, c'mon. I ran all that way." He dejectedly walked back to a giggling Yuna.
Auron looked over at Rikku as his muscular arm disappeared back into the folds of blood.
Rikku understood. It was a part of him, and Spira wouldn't be right without it. 'Even though it is a crime of fashion…' She thought-well out of view from the subject of her thought.
She smiled and clasped her hands together behind her back, skipping a little behind him.
She realized that she probably knew him better than anyone else in the group. She could read his coat like some could read facial expressions. They didn't have to say much of anything to communicate.
And that's why, in the end, he spoke so very much to her without saying anything.