"Are you ok? Oh my God, oh my God."

Auron shifted uncomfortably on the hard ground, bringing a hand to his throbbing shoulder and blinking his one good eye as an unfamiliar, feminine shadow loomed over him.

"Sit still, I'm calling 9-1-1," the woman said.

Auron didn't move much besides shifting his head slightly to take in his surroundings. It was dark outside, and pleasantly warm. Whatever blinding light had struck him earlier was gone; he could see the stars overhead in the sky, and hear a cacophony of different insects chirping away in the grass. The ache in his shoulder was subsiding gradually and he tried to sit up. The woman bent over quickly and held one hand against him to keep him still, the other clutching tightly to a small black device.

"Don't move," she pleaded, "I'm calling an ambulance."

"A what?" he asked, but she suddenly stood and started talking very quickly into the object in her hand, turning her back to him after a minute or so. Losing patience, Auron righted himself with some effort and a grunt, noticing the woman had turned back around to watch him in alarm, putting the device away quickly. She went to hold him still again, but he tried to shrug her off. That was the wrong move apparently, as his shoulder suddenly screamed at him again in pain. He reached into his robe with his other arm, feeling around for a potion, but coming up empty-handed.

Damn, he thought. The woman once again laid her hands on him, though this time she simply led him over to what looked like a large, boxy machina with wheels. She guided him gently into a sitting position on it, crossing her arms nervously as she watched him.

"Are you ok?" she asked again.

"I'm fine," he replied curtly.

"I'm so sorry, but you just – you just came out of nowhere! Didn't anyone ever tell you to watch when you cross the street?"

"Street?" he asked, looking around him once more. He noticed they were standing on an oddly paved road in the middle of nowhere.

"Oh God, how hard did I hit you?" She put her hands to her temples in frustration, biting her lower lip nervously. "Do you remember your name?"

"Auron."

"Huh?"

"My name is Auron."

"Oh! I'm Leilani."

He grunted and they stood around awkwardly for a moment while she pulled the device back out from her pocket and gave it a glance.

"Ugh, it's almost midnight."

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Geary Street, in Rudens," she replied. "Not even 10 minutes from my house. Where are you from?"

"Spira," he said, after a moment's hesitation.

"Never heard of it."

"Zanarkand?"

"Uh, no." She scowled deeply in concern. "Should I... should I call someone for you? Do you have any family around here? I should let them know where you're going."

"My family..." he started, but suddenly clammed up, shaking his head.

"You don't have anyone?" she asked, probing gently.

He shook his head again.

"Do you have a wallet or something I can take a look at? See where you live or if you've got an emergency number or something?"

Auron shook his head in silence again. The girl bit down on her thumbnail in thought, studying him with curiosity. His clothes were strange, almost costume-like, not to mention his nearly gravity-defying hair spikes and his utter confusion. She noticed with a strange sort of interest that he was actually quite handsome, despite his apparent age and the long, deep scar that marred the right side of his face. She suddenly felt almost vulgar for examining him – she had just hit him with her car, and now here she was, eying him up like a piece of meat while they waited for the ambulance.

The first thing Auron noticed about the woman was her age – she was young. Not that she was a child by any means – if he had to guess, she was likely in her mid-20s – but she still had an air of youthfulness about her that made him feel a little off when he noticed her fair features and the gentle way she walked. Her long brown hair curled softly halfway down her back, her dark eyes taking him in with mutual fascination. He looked away uncomfortably and she did the same, suddenly starting as she saw a large machina adorned with flashing lights in the distance.

"Wow, that was quick," she said with relief.

"What is that?" he asked roughly, his fingers edging carefully towards the sword under his robe.

"They'll take you to a hospital," she said, "Fix you up."

"Just give me a potion and I'll be fine," he growled, not wanting to be bothered by healers at the moment – he had much more pressing matters to attend to, like where was he, what was he doing there, and why hadn't he been able to stay in the Farplane? Sometimes it seemed like the world was just trying to torture him as long as possible. He sighed in resignation and went with the healers into the machina with flashing lights willingly, taking one last glance at the girl before the doors shut.

Leilani, he reminded himself. Her name was Leilani.