Yuna's still not insane. And she never will be. Trust me. Also, you have no idea how long it took me to find Lord Gandof's name…

And that is why dreams can be such dangerous things; they smoulder on like a fire does, and sometimes consume us completely.
-Memoirs of a Geisha, by Arther Golden

Part two- Taking over

He's with her again as they arrive in the town late at night, a rough trek through the loose dirt paths and the vigilant monsters inhabiting them. In the distance, she can see a bonfire still burning in the centre of the village and hear people singing around it and cheering and she realises the residents are still celebrating the news of Sin's death.

She can't hear of that without feeling empty inside, knowing that this celebration is founded up on the passing of her only family- Sin's death means her father's death, could mean his father's death. He winces, the same thought invading his mind and her hand clasps around his as Kimahri leads her around a longer path, wary of her fatigue, but not quite grasping her opposition to hearing either of their fathers or Sir Auron being called heroes again, having their deaths make merry (especially when their lives were not).

She can sense the boy's confusion beside her, not quite sure whether his father is a hero or not, whether he's alive or not, what he may have died for. He just wants to feel sad and hollow and she just wants to comfort him. So they lie side by side on mattresses in a small room off the temple, surrounded by other sleeping orphans and Kimahri's watchful eye and feel whole there- the only ones in this world mourning the passing of the three great (but underestimated) men.

--

She sees the children on the beach from a distance the next day, Kimahri keeping a protective grip on her shoulder and cautioning the children to avoid them with his size and menacing glower. At first she's glad, finding their continuous stares daunting, their awkward questions about her life frightening.

She feels lonely, but not for the company of people who gawk and scare her and don't understand. They all may have parents who died- but do any of them have parents who left them and died willingly? Do they have adults inviting them to rejoice in those deaths? So she's content to cling to Kimahri in the day time and seem too fragile to meet new people. Because at night, she can hug closer to the boy and comfort him, wishing he could be real, that the two of them could have truly come here together.

Yet, as the week progresses, she finds herself watching their games, hoping to join in, longing for Kimahri to leave so that someone will ask her to. She almost needs distraction now, someone who doesn't understand, who won't bring it up, someone like Lulu who will tactfully avoid the subject and hit Wakka in the chest when he forgets to. She knows he isn't real- she knows she should leave him behind and make new friends on the island. She knows she can't always look after him- that she shouldn't be tending to an imaginary friend, who will probably fade away and leave her.

But she catches him crying in the temple a few weeks later- sees him at the foot of Lord Gandof's statue, curled up and sobbing broken sobs, his outgrown hair covering his face. She can guess why- the news of Sir Auron being sighted has finally reached them on this island in the middle of nowhere. But no news of his father. Which isn't good.

And she feels guilty that she's abandoned him. So what if he's not real? He is to her at least- and he needs her. And they understand each others sufferings. And she realises she needs both- the understanding and the diversion from it- if she is to keep going. She leans down and puts her arm around his shoulder. She swore she wouldn't cry and she manages not to now- but she knows from what Sir Jecht told her that he's much more fragile, much more likely to break and she doesn't think less of him for doing so. She just lets him cry and tells him it's the two of them against everyone. And she holds the dream and feels strong enough not to cry, so long as she doesn't let go.

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