AN: Another songfic! This time to 'Stay' by Rihanna (feat. Mikky Ekko). I actually have a video to go with this on my YouTube account, so check that out too please! :D
I don't always ship Yuna/Zack, but sometimes they just sneak themselves together... ^_^ (Also, apologies for all the line breaks - it looks so much nicer the way I did it in AO3, but for some reason that doesn't work on :( so yeah, please bear with it.)
I Want You To Stay...
The job was a simple one – bad folk were on the train, so get them off it (by any means necessary). Lifting his head against the wind rushing past his ears, Zack smiled, standing fluidly despite the speed of the carriage he was stood on. Around him, the dark city flew past, as quiet as a sleeping settlement could be save for the noise of the train beneath him. This was going to be cake.
A noise behind him made Zack turn sharply. Something – or rather someone – landed a few feet behind him on the carriage: a girl with brown hair, clad in a colourful yet slightly-revealing outfit, dropped to one knee and levelled two handguns at him, a fierce look in her eyes. He frowned back at her when he saw the braid dangling from one ear. A bounty hunter. What the hell was she doing here?
Neither mercenary nor hunter said anything above the rumble of the train. After a few long seconds, Zack (barely) nodded, an acceptance of her presence, and turned his back on her. He had a job to do, and no out-of-her-league girl was going to stop him.
All along it was a fever…
The flowers were soft against her skin, like always. It was one of the reasons she spent so much time in these gardens: all sorts of wonders existed here, down in the earth and up in sky. Sometimes she thought it was a shame she was the only one who enjoyed them, but at times like this…
Yuna opened her eyes. He'd been on her mind a lot recently, that mercenary she'd met on the train job. Zack, right? He was intriguing. They hadn't exchanged one word on that mission, and yet she'd understood his every look, every action he'd made at her. He'd been pissed at her appearance; well he'd annoyed her, too, first looking at her and clearly thinking she was out of her depth, then getting in her way, showing off, ignoring her warnings – and damn him for being somewhat good looking!
Alarmed by the direction her thoughts had suddenly taken, Yuna stood up quickly, looking around to make sure she was definitely alone. There was no-one to be seen, yet that didn't stop a slight sweat forming over her skin, chilling her a little even as her heartbeat picked up pace. For a split second, she was worried her thoughts and emotions could be seen from a distance, almost as if she was glowing in the middle of the flowers she'd settled in; it was a ridiculous notion, of course, and one she needn't entertain. Lately though, what with her mind so preoccupied with Zack the mercenary, Yuna felt she was constantly running a fever of sorts, and worried that it was only a matter of time before someone noticed.
A cold-sweat, hot-headed believer…
How would Angeal Healey describe Zack Fair? Well: determined, strong-willed, hot-headed at times, hard-working, honest, loyal, and (as his surname suggested) fair. He would always readily stand to defend what he believed, and what he believed in was justice. Apparently, that was why he had become a mercenary. Angeal found that odd but never said anything. He also found Zack's recent absent-mindedness odd, and that he did decided to say something about.
He wasn't too surprised when Zack told him rather forcefully that it was none of his business, even though the broken sword Angeal held after training suggested it just might be. The master knew his pupil – Zack rarely let himself get distracted during training, even after assignments with unexpected events such as the last one. He'd spoken little of it, but what Angeal had been able to gather was that someone else had turned up for the job – a bounty hunter he thought. If this was what was bothering him, then Angeal was a little bemused as to why. They'd encountered plenty of bounty hunters before; had this one said something to him? Done something Zack didn't approve of?
Whatever the problem, Angeal realised he wasn't going to be told anytime soon. So he did what he thought best: he let Zack work out his own problems. If he needed him at all, he would ask, Angeal was sure. After all, they were like father and son. It would take a lot for him not to trust Zack.
She was shooting at him! Goddammit, what was she thinking? As bullets ricocheted off the carriage roof in quick succession (surprisingly quick, actually) Zack found himself performing some kind of odd dance as he moved his feet to avoid getting his toes blown off. Somehow, he ended up on his knees, arms waving around as he tried to keep his balance.
Okay, he got the message – she was more skilled than he thought, and appreciated his presence here as much as he appreciated hers. But still – shooting at him? Hell, it wasn't like they were enemies! It was a waste of ammo too, wasn't it? And last time he checked he didn't have a price on his head. If he had, she'd have killed him on sight, surely…
Watching her fall back to the train, he was treated to something of an acrobatic display as she flipped mid-air from where she'd been firing to land on her feet again. And yeah, that was pretty impressive – no way could he shoot at someone that rapidly whilst performing a fairly high back flip and then go on to land as gracefully as a cat. He comforted himself with the belief that maybe she wasn't so skilled with a sword.
I threw my hands in the air and said "Show me something"…
Threading her fingers between the strands, Yuna flicked out her hair with a slight shake of her head. As she opened her eyes they settled on the figure of her intriguing mercenary, who was watching her with his hands on his hips. Even when meeting on more-or-less friendly terms, he was still waiting for her to make the first move.
Well he wasn't in her way this time, so she wasn't going to draw her guns on him. In fact, she really wanted him to make a move first, just so she might be able to find a little more out about him. Because Zack Fair was her intriguing mercenary for one reason: there wasn't much she'd been able to dig on him. Oh, she'd seen what he was capable of doing with a blade, and his status as a mercenary told her a few more things, but even something as simple as his damned name had taken her a while to tease out of the underground. So yeah, this one was on him.
"Show me something," she said. No sooner had the words slipped out did she worry he might take that the wrong way – but said them she had, and she'd take whatever he gave up.
The newly-uncoupled carriages began to slow, receding from the engine even as the bad guys looked helplessly on. Stood atop the cabin, Zack turned his grin away from them, smoothly placing his sword on his back as the station loomed into view. Even with the added complications of another party, the job had been easy, and the money was his. Wherever said second party was, he hoped she'd taken stock of what he was capable of, and maybe she'd finally get the message that when he took a job, he finished it, regardless of who else tried to muscle in on it.
And from not-too far away, Yuna grudgingly admitted that perhaps the mercenary had earned this one. Losing out on the prize didn't bother her so much, and she doubted her contact would be too bothered if she refunded him. As engine and carriage began to separate, she watched the mercenary flash his enemies a grin before turning his back on them and slotting his sword into its place – and found herself smiling. Sure he'd been an irritating inconvenience, but he was a slightly bad-ass inconvenience. Even she could appreciate that.
He said "If you dare, come a little closer"…
She'd issued the challenge easily enough, and hadn't meant anything serious by it, but a slight smile slowly crept up on his face, and his eyes shone with some kind of amusement. "If you dare, come a little closer," was all Zack said, but it was enough.
Yuna stepped closer… and it was as if she'd stepped into the universe itself. Hundreds upon hundreds of stars filled her vision for as far as she could see, tiny bright white pinpricks of light against a blue background – a blue that ranged from ocean-depths to summer-sky in such a seemingly small space. She watched, eyes wide, as a series of bright beams flew around her, and lifted her hands to touch them as they grew in intensity, engulfing her in a light that was warm and electrifying and utterly wonderful…
Having only ever seen on her face masks of displeasure, annoyance or politeness (with that slight twinkle of mischief when she'd demanded a show), Zack was pleasantly astonished to see a look of sheer joy decorate her features, from the way the stars were reflected in her eyes to the awed parting of her lips that made her out to be on the verge of laughter. He was pleased that something as simple as a sphere had delighted her this much – but why, he couldn't quite say.
Round, and around, and around, and around we go…
Angeal had made Zack train with his broken sword – "Just in case it ever happens," he'd said. Zack gave him the benefit of the doubt, but he suspected it was also partly to teach him a lesson. Probably something like 'learn to take responsibility for your mistakes', or some other nonsense. He was just beginning to feel weary when he heard a sound – laughter. Familiar laughter. Puzzled, he looked round.
Outside in the street, a small group of girls were laughing with each other. One of them was dancing, it seemed, and it was her laughter he'd recognised. He couldn't help but gawp a little. Yuna danced? That is, if what she was doing could really count as dancing; she was sort of spinning on the spot, arms thrown out either side of her, long ponytail playing catch-up as she twirled, her energy and happiness carried along with the sound of her joy…
He was staring. How long had he been staring for? Had she seen him? Did she know he trained here? Did he want her to know? Why did he care? Did he care? Did the fact that he'd been staring suggest he cared? Which brought him back to the original question of how long had he been staring for? Confused, Zack rubbed the back of his head, ducking his gaze just in case she looked over and saw him. A tiny part of him still wanted to keep watching, though, wanted to hear that laughter again for as long as he could.
Now, tell me now, tell me now, tell me now you know…
Zack couldn't say for sure how long he'd known Yuna. What he could say for sure was that during the time he had known her, his opinion of her had flipped completely. She was sweet, brave, bubbly at times, and a little gutsy too. She was always ready with a smile, rarely said a bad thing about people, and yet when she wanted to she could be as fierce as an Ifrit. She was so complex… and he wanted to know each strand that made up her beautifully detailed person.
Turning to face him in a half-jump, hands clasped behind her back, Yuna smiled. "I think I quite like you y'know," she said casually, cocking her head to the side.
Zack turned to face her, smirking broadly. "Yeah? Think I like you, too," he replied, pointing at his chest for emphasis. Yuna giggled, spinning on her heel and running back to her waiting friends. They must have read something on her face, because they each held up a hand, and she slapped them both a double high-five. He wondered if that happened after successful bounty hunts.
Not really sure how to feel about it; something in the way you move…
Sat in the flower garden again, Yuna was trying to figure out what it was about Zack that meant she couldn't shake him from her mind, or even what had initially seemed attractive about him. It wasn't just his looks (she wasn't that shallow), so it had to be something else.
The way he cut through the goons on the train had her curious. He was fast and direct, effortlessly deflecting their bullets and pushing them aside – not killing them, she noticed, barely even wounding them. Just getting them out of the way. He jumped forward, swinging the sword in an arc to knock down a small group of them, looking rather pleased with himself as he posed on one knee, arms outstretched. The smile was wiped off his face when the next group of goons started a volley, and Yuna shook herself – the longer she stopped to watch him, the better chance he had at succeeding ahead of her.
Maybe it was his morals? He didn't deliberately want to hurt people she'd noticed, liked helping others where he could instead. He was a great believer in justice and fairness, as well as personal rights. Yes, he could get 'frustrated', but she wondered if that wasn't a front of sorts. Yuna sighed. Her intriguing mercenary was only a little less intriguing than when she'd first started getting to know him. If she wanted to delve deeper, she'd have to act fast, less they risked being found out.
Makes me feel like I can't live without you…
The airship was so big Zack found himself tipping his head as far back as he could to see the hatch on its underbelly open. Watching Yuna emerge from the machine before the ramp had even lowered made his heart leap – she slid down it easily, jumping straight off the end before she could fall, half-skirt and long pony-tail streaking behind her. And, of course, she was grinning. It was infectious, as was her enthusiasm, her energy, her strong emotions… For the first time he could recall, Zack couldn't imagine a future without her.
It takes me all the way…
He was showing her the universe again. Shades of blue, millions of stars, light-beams and all; Yuna never tired of it, never stopped being amazed and feeling so at peace at the sight of it. Everything just melted away here, all her worries and fears, the must-dos and must-not-dos of her life. If it never had to end, she wouldn't mind. When was the last time she had felt like this? Before Zack, she couldn't remember much about feeling happy. Sure, it had been cool when she'd first joined the bounty hunter's circle, but she only saw her friends every now and again (hell, she'd seen more of Zack in recent days). A part of her feared this would be taken away from her, a part that she did her best to smother in light-beams and stars and sky-blue eyes that gave away her mercenary's every emotion. No way could she give up someone who made her feel like this. No way.
I want you to stay…
Their first prolonged separation soon came. Angeal passed Zack an assignment, which he accepted, one that took him to a whole other city – protection detail for a boy on the run. They'd both known it was inevitable, but that didn't mean their parting was any easier.
Yuna had caught him at the edge of the plains. She'd tried to keep her tone light, to act as if his absence wouldn't bother her, but in the end she resorted to biting her lip. Ever the optimist, Zack surprised her by ruffling her hair, like one would a small child. That wasn't the message he was putting across though, and she knew it – he was cheering her up, a cheeky grin on his face that made her uneasiness lighter on her chest.
Even so, watching him go wasn't easy. As he disappeared into the sunlight, Yuna found herself reaching out wordlessly for him, as if doing so would pull him back to her, and wishing that he'd chosen to stay instead.
It's not much of a life you're living…
Zack found out the truth about Yuna the hard way; having landed his quiet charge safely at the bar they were destined for, run by a no-nonsense country girl, he saw her on the television – kissing none other than Seymour Guado, the city's leader. He was confused to the point of being angry until he noticed something about that kiss: it was very, if not completely, one-sided. Yuna's eyes were shut, not in rapture, but in discomfort, and he was sure that her lips remained stiff. She was putting up pretence for the public… at least, that was what he told himself.
He asked the others. Not only did they not really care, but they were puzzled as to why he did. After all, he was just a mercenary. Why would he have ever been in a position to meet Lord Guado's lover? Zack guessed that very few people knew of her activity as a bounty hunter, and felt privileged to be one of them. Then he wondered how many people who knew her as a bounty hunter recognised her as Lady Yuna at the same time?
As he journeyed back, he discovered that she was on TV a fair bit: he caught sight of her finishing her Summoner's Trials (she was a Summoner, too!), so exhausted she could barely stand; he listened to her speech to the people, encouraging them to start afresh after several attacks had finally been ended; and each time he saw her, it crushed his heart – not because she'd hidden this part of herself from him, but that she felt she'd needed to in the first place, and Zack was sure he was the only one who saw past the smiles and the surety of her careful words. The Yuna he'd first met, the bounty hunter who'd shot at him to keep him from winning, was a girl trying to escape a life she didn't want. If he could help her do that, Zack realised, he would.
It's not just something you take, it's given…
They met again at the edge of the plains, not too far from where they'd said goodbye. He listened, stony-faced, as her apology spilled forth, accompanied by her many reasons (all of which he'd suspected). She was dressed in her formal Summoner's garb: a white tank-top with traditional yellow wrap around her midsection, a flowing, deep-blue skirt, and the detached sleeves that almost trailed on the ground when she lowered her arms. What caught his eye, though, was the bounty hunter's braid that still peeked through her straightened brown hair.
When at last she paused to wait for his response, worry evident on her face, he put his hands on his hips and shook his head. "What a hobby," he said, making a point of looking at her braid, a one-sided smirk on his face. He watched as worry changed to relief, and Yuna ducked her head shyly, hair hiding her blush from him (or so she thought).
He would later tell her that she never needed to apologise, that he would have given her his forgiveness in a heartbeat, and she would respond with, "Likewise."
When Zack's next assignment was put through, Yuna snuck along. It felt good, being back in her gunner outfit and feeling the thrill of the chase, even if she wasn't actually doing the chasing herself. Zack didn't complain, and anybody they encountered either didn't question her presence or simply didn't recognise her.
"Don't break anything!" she shouted above the wind that whipped past them.
Zack, preparing to jump, looked back at her. "Gotcha!" he replied with a cocky salute – and then he was gone.
Any other girl might have been worried for his safety (if not his recklessness). Yuna knew him too well though. He'd bound around the town with his sword in his hands until it was mission accomplished, then he'd be back in front of her before she knew it, all smiles and fancy flourishes. The only difference between his assignments and her contracts was that she had to force him not to be a 'hero' and stop her from doing her job. Despite claiming not to be someone who just took a man's offer of protection, secretly, Yuna wouldn't have had it any other way.
Round, and around, and around, and around we go…
It was Zack's first Sending, and he wasn't sure what to expect. He didn't expect the serene calm of the sea, pink under the light of the setting sun, nor the silence that suffocated everyone present. He watched from the sidelines as Yuna performed the dance, swinging her staff over her head and back again, footsteps light on the water's surface, calling forth the spirits of the dead that floated beneath her. When said spirits burst from the water themselves, elevating her on some sort of liquid pedestal high above their heads, he found himself lost in a numb sense of awe.
It was more beautiful than he could have imagined, the way she twirled on her fountain, staff raised high then low, over and over again; Zack was mesmerised, barely able to take it all in as the spirits sailed upwards, tiny lights with wavering, multicoloured tails, their soft moans just audible beneath the haunting music being played somewhere in the distance…
But unlike the last time he'd seen her dancing, Yuna wasn't smiling, and he quickly realised why: the spirits were ascending through her. She was their guide, she was at the centre of all of them, as well as all of their grief and pain and despair and confusion – how could she do it? How could she put herself through this again and again?
There were a lot of things Zack hadn't expected going to his first Sending. He would never have imagined thinking it was horrendous.
Now, tell me now, tell me now, tell me now you know…
Yuna was waiting for him in the flower gardens. She saw him coming through the fog, noticed his clenched fists and taught posture, and feared the worst. He'd changed his mind about things being okay, she thought, and now he was angry with her for lying; but before the apology could even leave her lips he was already speaking: "You don't have to live like this!"
Startled, Yuna blinked. "Excuse me?"
"This life," he continued. "The politics, the 'happy couple', the Sendings – it's all making you miserable, Yuna! You think I haven't noticed? You think I don't care that you're unhappy? Of course I do! And I know – I know you prefer the life of a bounty hunter. I know you'd rather spend your time with me than Seymour Guado. And I know that I can't stand to see you like this."
She was shaking her head softly. "Zack, I…"
"You can get out of this, Yuna. And if not, then I'll get you out – you hear me? We'll run away together, get out of this place for good. Go somewhere they'll never find us." He nodded to himself. "Yeah… I could be an every-man. I'd fix things, deliver stuff, maybe work in a bar, take assignments on the side… and you could help too – perhaps we could work as a team? Yeah! We'd make an awesome team! Right?"
Yuna regarded him from where she stood, listening to all his dreams and ideas. More than anything she wanted to share them, wanted to believe it was all possible – but Seymour was powerful, and he was possessive. He didn't care if she didn't love him because as far as he was concerned, she belonged to him already. Running away – eloping – could mean bad news for her, and maybe even Zack.
Yes, they would be a wonderful, brilliant team, but team-mates didn't put each other in danger.
Not really sure how to feel about it; something in the way you move…
Zack was there the day Yuna snapped; Seymour had taken her along with him to one of his public events, and in front of all those people Yuna had jumped from the building, leaving behind her partner and plummeting head-first towards the ground. From the outskirts of the event, Zack had initially panicked – until something incredible had happened, and he wondered why he'd even been worried.
Yuna summoned. She had been falling, hadn't had her staff with her, and she'd called forth one of her aeons – Valefor, wasn't it? The winged creature had rocketed from the sky, twisting underneath her body and catching her on its chest. Feathers flew everywhere as the move was executed, and as Zack stepped back in shock he was reminded of a similar time Yuna had caught his breath like that.
He was minding his own business, sprinting along the tops of the carriages, when a movement above him made him look up – and there she was, the bounty hunter, executing an aerobatic move he could only dream of; she flew overhead, twisting her body lithely as gravity beckoned her down again, perfectly in balance, unrushed… and Zack was temporarily captivated by her agility. It was breathtaking, and even though he wasn't supposed to be watching her like this, he was glad to have witnessed it.
Makes me feel like I can't live without you; it takes me all the way…
The image of Yuna, still in her formal attire, positioned comfortably on Valefor's chest, was one that would stick in the minds of many for a long while afterwards. Zack himself was mesmerised as the two drifted safely down towards the earth, the feathers still falling around him; she'd done it! Yuna had taken control of her situation and made a decision for herself: she'd chosen Zack, and the knowledge made his heart soar along with her – and then he saw him. Seymour Guado, peering over the building's edge with an entourage at his back, was staring directly down at Zack. Even from so far below, there was no mistaking the look of pure displeasure on the city leader's face. He was pissed, maybe even beyond pissed. Yuna had publicly humiliated him, and lowly soldier Zack could tell that this wouldn't be allowed to stand without punishment.
I want you to stay…
The helicopter kicked up the dust around him, impatient to go and to take him with it (to get him out of Yuna's reach). In all honesty, Zack had expected something worse than exile – not that he'd let Seymour know that. The last thing he needed was to give the bastard an excuse to go further in his 'justice', and though exile was still preferable to prison or torture, it was still a hard blow to take: because he wouldn't be able to see Yuna. There was no way of him knowing how badly (or even if) she was being punished, and that was the thought that made him turn back one last time.
She was stood on the end of the pier, watching him sadly. As their eyes met for a final time, she lifted her head, expression distraught, turning and walking away without so much as a wave goodbye. He wished she'd stayed to see him go, wished he could call her back somehow… but with Seymour overseeing them, smug grin carved into his angular face, to do so would condemn them further.
Zack left the city, with the threat of death hanging over him should he ever return.
The reason I hold on…
One bright green eye tracked a twirling feather as it floated across the gardens, somehow direct and aimless at the same time. It was unusual to see so many feathers here, and though it was a mystery as to where they came from they decorated the sky quite beautifully, she thought. Gazing at the sky made her think of sky-coloured eyes, and Yuna turned to watch as Zack raised a hand to catch a low-drifting feather in his palm.
These visits were risky (suicidal), but the gardens had become the only place they could meet without fear of being disturbed (Seymour hated the flowers, only keeping them for Yuna's sake). Zack would infrequently creep in, whistle out a signal, and wait for her to join him. Their time together was limited by Yuna's schedule, but whatever they could get they would gladly take. Exile was, as Zack had predicted, awful for them both, and the incident had forced changes in them that wouldn't have occurred otherwise: he was more serious, the cheerful, cheeky attitude replaced with a more mature outlook on things; she was no longer a bounty hunter, bound to the life she'd so desperately sought to escape.
The black feather settled on his hand, and Zack stared at it serenely. From behind him, Yuna spoke up. "Do you think…" She hesitated. "Can this work?"
He curled his fingers around the feather. "We'll make it work."
Sometimes there were no words; but every time a tear slipped down her cheek, he was there with a smile to stop the rest.
'Cause I need this hole gone…
A pyrefly drifted past Yuna's face where she lay, a remnant of the Sending she'd just performed. A small wave of sadness accompanied it, matching how she already felt. Seymour had started taking her to more and more of his events, and she was struggling to cope with the strain this put on her already limited time with Zack. She was worried he had noticed how her mind wandered in public, and although he would hold her gently and smile at her as she regained her focus, she could see the warning in his eyes, feel it in his grip.
But it was hard to keep her thoughts in check when there was such a hole in her heart, one that was growing bigger and wider with time. She was trying her best to keep him happy, but living in fear was taking its toll on her, and the need to get rid of the deepening hole was too great to ignore.
Funny you're the broken one when I'm the only one who needed saving…
As the memory of Yuna dancing happily faded out, Zack opened his eyes gingerly, wondering why the final blow hadn't been dealt. A sword dissected his vision, and holding it was a painfully familiar face.
Of course Seymour would send Angeal. The thought had briefly crossed his mind when the alarm had gone off, but as the guards started firing at him he'd been more concerned with not being shot and had forgotten until now, having had his ass handed to him because of a childish mistake (never leave your back open to the enemy). Only Angeal had ever been able to defeat him so easily in close-combat; he was efficient, smart, he got the job done, and he had personal connections to Zack – naturally he'd be Seymour's first choice.
"Well what are you waiting for?" he snapped.
Crouched above him, Angeal looked down at his former pupil with an expression Zack had often seen during their training exercises: a kind of frustrated disappointment. "I'm waiting for you to fight back." And he lifted the sword away, allowing Zack to scramble to his feet before directing that stern gaze at him once again; then he explained.
Since Zack's sighting in the gardens, Seymour had issued a warrant for his death. He'd eventually hired Angeal to find him and kill him, of course, but Angeal had only accepted so that he could pass on this information. He told him about Yuna, how she had recently collapsed in public because she was trying to use summoning as a method of distraction (or perhaps because Seymour was forcing her to repent. Angeal wasn't quite sure).
Angeal knew Zack was a fighter, not someone to just roll over and take what was dealt him. He told his pupil to go back, to fight for Yuna and their relationship and stand up to the bully that was Seymour Guado; and Zack listened to his mentor's words, just as he always had done, and found himself running back into the city from which he'd been chased.
'Cause when you never see the light, it's hard to know which one of us is caving…
Zack had a dream once. He'd been stood alone in a vast expanse of knee-deep water, the faintest of breezes flowing past him and cradling a large feather. He watched as it lazily swung back and forth in front of him, the sun shining of its brilliant white surface…
Yuna had a dream once. She'd been stood alone on a stage of some sort, a dark thunderstorm raging in the background. In her hand she held a microphone, and without knowing why or what she was doing she had raised it to her lips and begun to sing…
The feather drifted closer and closer to the water until finally it landed there, breaking the glass-like surface with echoing ripples that spread out far and wide…
She finished her song; the thunderstorm had ended, but all she could remember was the feeling of being rocked to her core. Her legs gave way as she opened her eyes to let the tears burst forth…
Not really sure how to feel about it; something in the way you move…
The metallic sounds of guns cocking and swords being drawn echoed around him beneath the drone of the circling helicopters, and he took that as a sign to stop where he was. It seemed Seymour was done with mercenaries, and judging by the size of this small army, he really wanted Zack dead. In fact, he was so eager to see that happen that he'd decided to come and watch personally – with Yuna.
Zack's heart almost stopped there and then as he laid eyes on her, face drawn with worry, hands clasped in front of her. He'd seen far too much worry distorting her features lately, and longed again for the time before all of this, when Seymour Guado's name wasn't even a passing thought and Yuna smiled and teased him and laughed at his jokes; but the time for wishing was over. Slowly, keeping his control for Yuna's sake, he drew his sword.
Makes me feel like I can't live without you…
Seymour was saying something behind her – something to Zack. To rile him up? To make him surrender? To belittle him? Whatever he said, she knew that Zack would reply with some cheeky remark, refuse to surrender, or perhaps rise to Seymour's challenge. Either way, she didn't care what her captor had to say – she was remembering a Zack that she was sure nobody else knew.
They'd had to hitch a ride after a contract in the middle of the plains. Some guy in a yellow truck had eventually obliged, and they'd sprawled out on the open-top back and let exhaustion pin them down. After a long while of nothing but the sound of the old junk's engine, she'd looked up to see him staring down at her from where he sat, and after a pause he'd just… smiled at her. His whole face had lit up, as if he'd just discovered he had a new best friend, and all the promises of loyalty and trust and care were present in that one, beautiful gesture.
Whatever happened here, she would make sure he was remembered for that.
It takes me all the way…
He made the first move. The broad, two-handed sword he always carried with him, now as familiar to her as her own twin guns, glinted in the sunlight as it was sharply drawn back. Zack was running, charging towards the rows of guns and blades as if this was just another assignment. There was nothing new in his recklessness – the only difference was the burning determination in his eyes.
A single memory had taken over Zack's mind: Yuna, as he'd seen her once, radiant and beautiful as she took in the joy of the people she'd spoken to, the hundreds of souls she'd just given hope to. A girl who had the ability to do that amidst all her own suffering was worth giving it his all for.
I want you to stay…
The sounds of guns firing in rapid, unrelenting succession stops her heart, even as she takes an involuntary step forward, a cry on her lips. Her hands are clasped as if in prayer, but what god would hear her above the din? Nevertheless, she pleads in her head; she's given herself as a Summoner, showed her devotion to guiding the deceased, put on a brave face because she could help other people – didn't Yuna deserve something in return?
Apparently not. Just as quickly as it had started – if not quicker – it was over. She could see Zack. She could see the bright, sky-blue of his eyes. She could also see the vibrant red blood that trickled around them from his forehead, his pale, dirty skin beneath it that not even the sudden rain could wash clean… As realisation dawned on her, the hopes that had kept Yuna on her feet since the day of Zack's exile finally gave way, and grief helped pull her down to her knees.
Stay…
Out on the plains the rain was pouring down, turning the ground to mud and making small lakes where it couldn't cope with the onslaught. There was no lightning flashing in the sky, no thunder to add ferocity to the tears of Mother Nature, for this was a rainfall of grief (matching that of another, now so very far away).
In the middle of the mud and the floods lay the body of a mercenary, his sword resting loosely within his hand, surrounded by dark pools of blood kept fresh by the running water. He should have been in discomfort, but the combination of the cold, rain, and blood loss had Zack Fair in a state of blissful unawareness, granting his mind the privilege of wandering away from the pain of death.
Though it fell directly onto his face, he couldn't see the rain. Instead, he could see an airship, brilliant metallic red against the diamond blue of the sea it had landed in – and from it, a girl was running towards him, dressed in bounty hunter's garb (colourful, slightly revealing), her long ponytail waving behind her. Not even the sea could sparkle the way her eyes did. She stretched her arms out as she neared, and they were almost as wide as the smile on her face.
As his eyes closed to her image for the last time, there was a smile on Zack's face too.
I want you to stay.
Yuna performed his Sending alone. As she raised her staff to the heavens, pyreflies swarming up and around her, she thought she could feel him as they passed. Through the grief and the mourning, she pictured him – clean, healthy, content – as he was raised to the sky, engulfed by a warm light that wouldn't let him know harm again. He'd always wanted wings, and she'd always wanted him to stay, but now that he finally had them, who was she to try and hold him down?