II. Common Ground

Serah and all the rest had been understandably disappointed when Lightning revealed that they wouldn't be staying with them past the night, but in the end they ended up working together to make short work of her arrangements. There was a medium-sized home tucked into the brush on the cliffs just west of town, and while it was a bit precarious to get up there, neither she nor Caius had any trouble. It had been arranged to be constructed just a year after Cocoon's fall, right when the town was growing in earnest – but the woman who commissioned it wound up moving with her family elsewhere just before it was finished. The construction workers, of course, decided to wrap up the project anyway, figuring it would be occupied at a later date when more people moved down to Pulse, and ever since it'd been sitting pretty waiting for someone to buy or rent it. It had two bedrooms on opposite ends of the house with a sort of composite living room, dining area, and kitchen between, and the bathroom just off to the side, closer to Lightning's room. It was cozy, and – with a bit of furnishing – could have been a dream home.

It was empty on the inside save for the essentials – a refrigerator, a sink, other kitchen appliances, but they didn't work until the gas was turned on on their fourth day staying there, so Lightning was forced to turn her attention away from Caius and head down to the NORA house if she wanted a warm meal and hot shower. It soon became routine even after the gas was turned on, although more for the want of company than the need for warm food and a shower, and the violet-haired man didn't mind the privacy a bit, although for whatever reason it felt as if he was never truly alone – it unnerved him a bit to be able to wander into the wilderness, to be completely isolated and surrounded by nothing but trees and the stray monster here or there, and still feel like he was being watched.

He could probably flee to either of Pulse's poles, where there were nothing but sheets upon sheets of ice stretching into the horizon, and still not shake the feeling.

By the middle of the second week, the house was still empty, but they obtained mattresses. Rather, Lightning obtained a single mattress, and some blankets, and some pillows; Caius got a mat, which wasn't much more comfortable than the hardwood floor, and one too-flat pillow and one blanket that didn't cover him completely by a long shot. But for a man who'd slept in every setting one could possibly imagine (probably), there was no complaint to be made.

They'd also settled into their own routines by then. Caius woke with the sun and Lightning long before; Lightning took her showers in the morning and Caius took his in the evening. They rarely spoke but when their paths crossed, they usually spared each other a glance – Lightning's gaze tended to remain careful and measured, while Caius regarded her with the same sort of look a predator might use when observing prey. But never did they allow their intentions to slip. When they spoke, it was of Valhalla, of Etro, of their Focus, and even those conversations lacked fluff and were short-lived either out of unwillingness to answer a question or unwillingness to delve too much into the details on either of their parts; what was there to say between she who wished to see it finished and he who possessed a strong enough will to forsake a diety?

The second week ended with a late start and an early morning.


Lightning had, over the course of her military career on Cocoon, trained herself to be a morning person. Training had demanded it and after that it just became an ingrained habit. She rose long before dawn to take care of her morning routine – shower first, then slap some clothes on and scrape up some breakfast – or, she usually did. When she emerged from her room still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, the sunlight had already begun filtering in through the windows and illuminating the whole house, and she knew without looking that Caius was already up and about. She rested her hand on the bathroom door as she rounded the corner into the main living space, and she was about to complete the turn into the room when she decided to spare Caius a glance.

He returned the favor, smirking at her and resting most of his weight against the wall closest to his room. He seemed to be enjoying the sunrise with a mug of coffee cradled in his hands. There was, unfortunately, no way that he had thought to make an extra cup for her since he'd so brazenly stolen hers... She caught herself staring at him a bit dumbly, as if she hadn't processed his presence for several long moments – caught herself looking him over. He was already dressed and prepared for the day, armor and all, although the tails of his headband hung free behind him instead of draped over his shoulders. The warm light of the sunrise treated his form differently than the shadows of Valhalla had, softening a few of his sharper edges – although he looked no less intimidating for it. He'd turned, and those cold eyes were fixed on her, and she had to look away after a few moments. She gave him a curt nod and pushed her way into the bathroom, closing the door again behind her.

She turned on the water and let it warm a bit, a torrent flowing out into the tub, before with a flick of a switch it stopped and started coming out of the showerhead a few feet above instead. It was a bit archaic – but this set up, with the shower curtain and all, had its charms. Plus, a shower was a shower.

By the time she'd finished her business and emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her torso in an effort to protect her modesty, Caius had already made himself scarce. She scowled a bit but made no move to actually do anything about it, and once she'd gotten dressed – no use decking herself out in uniform, so just a loose-fitting, dark-colored tank top and some shorts would do just fine – she stepped into the kitchen to make herself some oatmeal. It was nice to go through the motions again, she supposed, even if it was on Etro's watch and she had to keep a close eye on Caius's activities to make sure he didn't stray.

Although, she questioned their ability to work together toward that goal. Several times, Etro had reached to her in her dreams (and, she presumed, to Caius, but if she did, he never made any mention of it), although they were all half-remembered and unclear. She may have been Etro's champion, and she (vaguely) understood some of the dreams, and she thought she understood her Focus, but she did not understand the goddess completely or clearly around half the time.

After the water came to a boil, it was a simple operation, and she poured the contents of the small, brown packet into the water before removing it from the heat. After a minute or two, she stirred the oatmeal around in the small pot before spooning some of it into a bowl and waiting for it to cool before she dug into her breakfast.


Unarmed, he had to tread carefully the farther away from town he strayed. Unarmed, he also couldn't have his breakfast of choice (though honestly he was craving meat enough that he might just make do with his bare hands or, perish the thought, magic, even though it was likely far more trouble than it was worth), so a mug of (frankly disgusting) coffee before setting out and some edible fruit it was. He sat perched on a rock formation extending just over the water, out of sight of the town, peeling back the vibrant, thick skin of a fruit he'd actively sought out almost every day since he found that the food Lightning kept on hand was either (a) not particularly appetizing, (b) specifically for her and her alone, or (c) prepackaged and labeled in an alphabet he could not read, and not all of the directions or the identities of some of the products could immediately be discerned through common sense or process of elimination (leading back to the fact that their identities could not be ascertained). It took a few moments and his fingers slipped a few times (perhaps he should have held off on cutting his nails) but eventually the pure white flesh underneath was exposed. After removing enough skin, he bit into it – it was a little tangy (no, actually, very tangy – but in a good way) and clear juice started getting everywhere afterwards but was it ever worth it. He paused for a moment when he realized that many, many Yeuls would have loved this sort of fruit, but pushed the thought out of his mind (or rather, filed it away for later, for when he found her again).

Every so often, he came across tiny black seeds, but they were of no consequence; he merely spit them out and continued. Before long, nothing worth eating of the flesh remained, and he discarded the skin, wiped the juice away, and continued on his way. In the morning, the world was quiet, impossibly quiet, and he appreciated being left alone to his thoughts to an extent, but the fact that he would invariably return to Lightning before the morning was over only to set off again whether he truly wished to return or not put a damper on his mood a bit. He'd stopped trying to avoid it a while ago. A few flowers were beginning to wake up as well, and again his thoughts went to Yeul. It was an unavoidable truth that after more than fourteen hundred years of life and hundreds upon hundreds of seeresses, it was the little things that he couldn't avoid that would remind him of her, and invariably of her tragic fate.

A Yeul who dreamed of travel. A Yeul who loved to sing. A Yeul who collected flowers.

All of their lives were lost far too soon, often ending without warning. For some, it was the visions that squeezed their last breath from them – other times, they simply lay in his arms slowly withering away. For others, they saw the future, how things would end – and rushed off to their dooms only for him to find her broken body later. The shock never wore off and while he usually shed tears for each of them when their time came, he couldn't remember the last time he'd truly broken down and wept.

The world was bathed in quiet, broken only by the near-silent sound of his footstep in the grass and the sound of some insects minding their own business. Distant birdsong began once the sun had fully risen over the horizon and the sky had started to favor blue over peach. He resolved to ignore whatever force tugged, prodded, and stabbed (in that order) at the edges of his awareness for as long as possible to enjoy this peace; he resolved previously to overcome it completely a week ago, and that certainly hadn't happened yet, but baby steps. He tilted his head to the sky and crossed his arms. Over the edge of the cliffs were alternately dark water and rocks and strips of beach; around the bend and in the other direction, toward the house, was the town. The waves assaulted the rocks and tried to pull the land down into the sea with little success and it was only in this quiet that Caius could appreciate the rhythms of life.

The rhythms of life which seemed so foreign and new in the first few days, after watching the world slowly wither and die, and after the cold void of Valhalla.

But that was fine. He'd enjoy them for a while yet.


When he returned to the house, Lightning was standing by the window in the alcove between their rooms, a slender silver device held to her ear. She spoke softly into it, but the emptiness of the house amplified her voice what seemed like tenfold.

"No, I don't think Caius knows. … It's –" Caius let the door shut behind him and the resulting sound seemed to get her attention. There was a sharp breath, and then: "I gotta go. Mmhm. I'll talk to you later, Serah." She lowered the device and immediately turned on him. "Been there long?"

"No." He took a step toward her, and then another. She stood her ground, staring up at him even when only an arm's length separated them. Caius searched Lightning's eyes for a moment, his own expression neutral even as he knew she was doing the same, though she assuredly found nothing; she never seemed to. Or at least, she never seemed to find what she was looking for. When he spoke, his voice was low and carried the tone of a threat. "Is there something I need to know about?"

"No," was her calm answer, and she crossed her arms over her chest. Neither of them backed down, though, and after a moment's pause, she continued with an edge of irritation: "Did you need something?"

He always needed something. "Nothing from you specifically," he replied, although he'd be damned if he'd be the first to relent. His fingertips twitched a bit at his side and for a moment he considered reaching for his sword – except it wasn't there; it was likely stuck in stone in Valhalla. It was so strange not to have it on his person at all; he kept forgetting. He tilted his head to the side a bit with a smirk. "But there is something I'd like to know."

She hummed her reply, nudging him onward.

"How long must we play this game?"

"As long as it takes."

"To what?"

"Complete our Focus."

"Then you should make yourself busy, shouldn't you, Lightning?" Standing around waiting was no way to get anything done. If Caius felt as strongly about the task Etro had given to them as she did, it probably would have been done by now if he weren't chained to this damn house for whatever reason. Over and over, he kept returning, but he couldn't pinpoint precisely why as of yet – it was as if a fog fell over him, forcing him to question his judgement (hah) whenever he thought to strike out on his own…

She hesitated, took a half-step toward the window. Caius placed his hands on his hips, keeping his gaze focused on her as she choked out a reply: "It requires both of us."

"Can you say that with certainty?"

Silence. Not silence of concession, but of defiance. After a moment, Lightning straightened and nodded. "Yes."

He blinked at her and turned away. "It does not explain why we're here." Of course, she didn't need to explain why they were still there. It quickly became clear that they were there because of Caius complete lack of any interest in cooperating. Lightning knew from the very start that making any attempt to work with him would be infinitely close to impossible. She also seemed to realize that without trust, nothing would move forward; hence, her allowance of Caius to go about his day as he pleased as long as he didn't cause any trouble.

As such, she didn't explain herself, instead turning to the window as he disappeared into his room with a huff, apparently no longer finding their brief confrontation no longer fulfilling in any way.

There wasn't really much of anything inside save for the mat he slept on and a pillow, both in the center of everything. In fact, those were the only things inside save for an empty box inverted and used as a table of sorts, with a change of clothes (a black shirt with sleeves that just barely didn't cover his elbows and khaki cargo pants he thought were tacky but had enough pockets to override aesthetic with practicality) Lightning had requested for him sitting on top. They hadn't been touched much since they settled in, with Caius using them occasionally as pajamas or a change of clothes when he wouldn't be going out for a while yet. There were also some interesting things he'd picked up – interestingly colored rock, a rock that was smooth and looked to maybe be made of quartz, and a flat, smooth, perfectly square stone, for example – and a flower in a glass on the windowsill (Lightning wasn't too happy about his use of one of the only four glasses they were given being used as a vase but in the end there was little she could do about it; at the time Caius did it mostly because he knew it'd get under her skin but now he mainly kept the glass and occasionally brought home a new flower because it brought him a strange sort of comfort). That was it.

He'd only gotten precious few moments to himself before the door squeaked and opened a bit. He cast a glance over his shoulder and there Lightning was, arms crossed. "Caius."

"Do you need something?"

"No." A thoughtful pause. "Your sword was left in Valhalla."

"Yes. Why?"

"I doubt we won't need to fight when it comes time to address this." She brought a hand to her chest, just above her brand. Caius narrowed his eyes a bit at her, and that was when she decided to cut straight to the point—"I have spare gunblades."

He quirked an eyebrow. Caius would be lying if he said he wasn't interested in having a weapon, but after centuries of using a greatsword almost as big as he was and made mostly of solid metal, he wasn't sure that he could adjust. Still, a smirk crept to his lips and he hummed thoughtfully. "I assume you expect me to cooperate if you allow me to use one." What was the term, quid pro quo?

"Yes."

He considered this for a moment then shrugged. "How many do you have?"

"Three, excluding mine."

"May I choose which one I use?"

"Yes. How many questions are you planning on asking?"

"That's all. Bring them here."

Lightning studied him carefully before disappearing to fetch the weapons. Caius took a seat on the mat he slept on, criss-crossing his legs and waiting patiently for her to return. When she did, they were all nestled in her arms and she carefully, one by one, laid them before him. They were all collapsed into themselves for easier transportation and it was clear at that point that the Guardian would have his work cut out for him regardless of which one he chose. He hummed a bit and picked up the one on the far right.

"Cocoon's weapons are so light."

"Your weapon of choice is a slab of metal with sharp edges."

He grunted in response.

The blade unfolded easier than he'd anticipated, everything locking into place with a flick of the wrist. If nothing else it was showy, but the blade didn't look particularly sturdy. It didn't look like something even Lightning would use, with it being a far cry from the gunblade she'd pointed at his throat when they'd arrived or the blade she used in Valhalla. He spend a few moments toying with it, shifting it between its forms before setting it down and moving to the one in the middle. It had a thicker, slightly heavier blade and looked far deadlier, but was still light.

If presented with these weapons before he'd faced Lightning in Valhalla, he likely would have raised an eyebrow. However, all the reassurance in their effectiveness he needed was sitting directly across from him, patiently watching and waiting. Lightning could hold her own against him with blades like these, so even if they didn't feel like they could do much damage, in the right hands…

"Only the most skilled Guardian Corps soldiers were allowed to use these, you know."

"Is that supposed to impress me?"

"No. Just trivia." She flashed him a wry smile.

He set the gunblade he was toying with down and his hands guided themselves to the one on the far left. He smiled a bit, weighing it in his hands. It was noticeably heavier, with a blade shaped similarly to the previous one. There were letters that Caius couldn't read etched into the side, and he cocked his head to the side, squinting at them as if that would help him unlock their mysteries. "This is…?"

"Organyx. Military prototype and impulse-buy. Planned on scrapping it for parts." She never got around to that, for some pretty obvious reasons. Hard to dictate what happened to old weapons when you're trapped in Valhalla.

"Is there something wrong with it?"

"It's too heavy. Have you made your choice, Ballad?"

He was about to quip about how this gunblade was nothing close to heavy, but held his tongue. "Yes. I'll take this one."

"Good." She retrieved the other two, holding one in each hand as she stood. "I don't have any rounds for you, but I'm sure that won't be an issue."

He gave a stiff nod. No, it wouldn't be an issue; he had no interest in using it as a firearm. In fact, he wasn't sure he quite understood Cocoonites' obsession with guns in the first place. As she left the room, he toyed with it, quickly figuring out the exact amount of force he needed to open it. It felt good in his hands, but it was no greatsword – still, it was better than nothing, and in the way of utility it was certainly more versatile.

So he'd deal with it for the moment.


A/N: This chapter is probably the weakest of 20 but it needed to be written. (Ironically this chapter was one I initially included; chapter III I went back and wrote after the fact to adjust pacing; renumbering al lthe chapters after that (I had 9 at that point I believe) was a drag). This chapter actually has no differences between the Tumblr and AO3 version because there's no fancy formatting; as is the case for most chapters actually. But yeah! Love ya. :^))