Disclaimer: Final Fantasy X, X-2, and all related nouns and pronouns appear courtesy of Square-Enix.

The Most Excellent Way

by Kairos27

4. Singing the Blitzball Blues

You know how it is when people describe how it feels to be "in love", they mention such foolish symptoms such as tingles of electricity, gooseflesh, increased heartbeat, nervous stomach, sweaty palms, general feeling of lightness, and so forth. Well, let's make a checklist of the symptoms I am suffering right now. Tingles of electricity? No. Gooseflesh? Yes. Increased heartbeat? Yes. Nervous stomach? Yes. Sweaty palms? Yes. General feeling of lightness? Not really.

"Hey, are you okay?" She's talking to me again.

Don't look at her, Auron, or you just might add some more symptoms to that list of yours.

I look up, taking care not to look at her directly. The boy is impatiently shifting his feet while Yuna looks at me in concern. Wakka and Lulu are standing a ways away with their baby, probably waiting for Yuna to follow.

"I'm fine," I mumble, and I begin to back away, however reluctantly. "Sorry to have disturbed you." But then, my stupid feet are so reluctant to move that instead of moving out of their way, I back up a few inches and fall on my backside.

I should add "clumsiness" to that list of symptoms.

"Ow," I say for the second time in less than five minutes. How is it that in the past, a chimera could beat me up and I never uttered a word, but now a simple fall makes me say stupid things like "Ow"?

I am going to complain to Bahamut about this so-called "improved body".

"You don't seem okay. Are you sure you're all right?" That's Yuna. She really hasn't changed…much.

If Esuna could cure lovesickness, I think I would be all right. But no… "I'm really fine," I mutter.

And then I make the horrible, terrible, awful mistake of looking up. Because right there, smack dab in my line of sight, is Rikku, who is bending over and looking me in the face. I grit my teeth. She shouldn't some this close…close enough for me to smell her, sand and smoke and Besaid hibiscus shampoo. She must have used Yuna's shampoo.

I think I feel sweat lacing my brow as I clamber to my feet again. I must be blushing terribly.

"Trying to hide from your crazy fans, huh?" Rikku says brightly. Gooseflesh ripples on my arms. And—is that a tingle of electricity I feel in my arms somewhere?

Not again. Two years ago, I had worked so hard to distance myself from her, but now just a few seconds of physical closeness makes mincemeat of my resolve.

"Yes," I say, keeping my head down, looking appropriately penitent. This time, I succeed in walking a few steps away. "Again, I'm…I am sorry to disturb you, Lady Yuna. Please, excuse me." I turn around so that I don't have to look at her, or any of them.

"Will we see you at the concert today?" Yuna calls out to me.

I turn my head slightly, and nod, just like in the old days. And then I run for it.

I don't care how silly I look, running for the hills, away from the docks. I have to get out of there before my "improved body" melts into a puddle of goop at her feet.

The world is a tinted blur around me as I run, and I pant, my red face turning even redder from my exertion. An irrational fear—or is it a hope? —that she's chasing after me only makes me run even faster. My flight response.

Yes, think of it! Auron, the Legendary Guardian, the warrior who never ran away in the face of Sin and death and evil…is running away from the one person he wants the most. The most beautiful person in the world.

Do I sound bitter? Because I am. I'm bitter because I didn't have the guts to even talk to her. I'm bitter because I just wasted a chance to get to know her again. I'm bitter because this has to be so damned hard.

I'm bitter because…I'm running away again. For a moment I'm tempted to turn around and run back…but I don't. I continue running away, putting more and more distance between her and me.

As if we weren't far away enough.

I stumble into our apartment, panting heavily. Sweat drips in rivulets down my cheeks as I drag myself towards the kitchen to get a glass of water. Ifrit is sitting there looking solitary, until his dark eyes turn to see me entering.

"What were you doing?" he intoned, as I groped around the cupboards for a glass. Seeing that as I had no success, he reached into another cupboard and handed me one.

"Walking," I grumbled, turning on the faucet.

"Ah." He turns back to his seat. A magazine is open before him. "I borrowed some of your reading material," he adds, as I sit down across from him.

"Hmph." I toss the water down my throat.

Ifrit overlooks my curt manners, and continues talking. "Shiva tells me that you went to see if the bnehlacc—I mean Miss Rikku—has arrived. Has she?"

I nod miserably, my eyes focused on the wood grains of the table. I haven't taken my sunglasses off, so I can't see too clearly, but I don't care.

"And did you exchange words?"

I nod again.

"Has she…any hint of who you are?"

I shake my head.

Ifrit strokes his chin thoughtfully. "And you do not know if she returns your affection."

I scowl into my glass of water. What is his point?

Fortunately, he does not pursue the train of thought (unlike Shiva and Bahamut, who would undoubtedly press me for more details), but instead, Ifrit turns back to his magazine. He is reading a Spira News Weekly issue about the newest fad: Sphere Break, which apparently was started by Rin, the unrivaled entrepreneur. "What time is it?" I ask him.

"The tenth hour before noon," Ifrit replies.

So we have about five hours before we're to head back to the stadium for the concert. Just then, Shiva bustles in through the door, and looks terribly surprised to see me. "You're back already?" she questions. "Didn't you see her?"

"Peace, Shiva," Ifrit rumbles. "He saw her. That is enough for now."

I think Ifrit will be my favorite aeon from now on.

"Aw, poop," the female aeon whines. "I was hoping that something would happen." She brightens, though. "Oh well, you'll see them later tonight! And this time I'll be with you, so you can't mess up."

Really. "And what makes you so special?"

Shiva shoves her face into mine and winks at me craftily. "Because I'm the goddess of loooove."

Water sprays out of my mouth. "What?" I almost shout.

Ifrit shakes his head. "There you go again; your mouth is running away without you, Shiva."

Shiva sniffs haughtily. "What makes you think I didn't mean to say that?" she says sweetly to the fire aeon, who rolls his eyes. She then turns to me. "Don't tell me that surprised you."

"Of course it surprised me!" I snap. "Why else would I spit my water all over the table?"

The female aeon threw up her hands in mock frustration. "You mean you don't know?"

"Shiva was worshiped as the goddess of love and music in ancient Zanarkand," Ifrit supplied helpfully. "She was highly revered even in Yu Yevon's time."

I don't understand…I mean, of course I know by now that my aeon companions are not dreams of the fayth, like they had been when Yuna called them. They are actual creatures; manifestations and creations of a deity lost to human knowledge. At least that is what they tell me, over and over again. But until now, they never claimed to be gods.

"I'm not a goddess," Shiva admits. "And I was never meant to be. But you know humans, always having to complicate things. Macalania just happened to be a very musical, romantic place. The place was part of me—figure the ice—but I didn't make it that way by myself."

Suddenly, I understand what Shiva is saying. So that was why Tidus and Yuna had their little romantic interlude there, in Macalania Lake. It never would have been as beautiful, or as fitting, anywhere else. The musicians who dwelt in Macalania always played and sung ballads telling of tragic love and loss, and the icicles always echoed the songs right back, making them sound even lovelier than when they began. Even Shiva's fayth sang the Hymn more beautifully and sorrowfully than any fayth we had seen before.

But Shiva as a goddess? Well, she certainly had the body for it.

"I know you find it hard to believe," Shiva says smugly. "But when ole Yevon made the fayth dream up aeons, they naturally dreamed of creatures they believed were powerful. And of course the first things they thought of were their deities. That's how all of the aeons you knew were dreamed up. Even Anima."

Really? I never knew that Seymour's mother would know enough to dream of an ancient creature powerful enough to become Yuna's second-greatest aeon.

"Well, now that I've gone and blabbed that…your love life is in good hands." She tittered. "Why didn't I think of that before?"

Joy to the world. Nevertheless, I bite back the retorts that I planned to give her. I think I have learned by now that Shiva will have her own way no matter how much I yell.

The hours slip by quickly. Soon, it is time for us to leave for the stadium. Shiva is bossing me about what to wear. She makes me wear a black sleeveless turtleneck that clings to my body more than I would like it to. And then, she insists that I wear trousers that she calls "jeans", which she says will make my "butt look smaller". Apparently my backside is too big for her taste, but I don't care. I flatly refuse to wear the "jeans", and instead opt for trousers that strongly resemble what I used to wear, the baggy kind that one stuffs into tall combat boots, which I also decide to put on.

Bahamut comes prancing in, wearing his own pair of jeans, which make his backside look smaller, and a black unbuttoned shirt, which exposes his tattooed chest. At least he isn't wearing that snakeskin. Ifrit follows, wearing a white sleeveless shirt that clings to his bulky, muscular chest in a fashion designed to drive the girls batty. Probably Shiva's fault, again.

"Let's go!" Bahamut sings out, leading the way. Outside waiting for us are two machina—I mean, machine—motorcycles waiting for us. I am surprised. The last time I saw them was in Zanarkand. Bahamut straddles one and Shiva hops on behind him. Ifrit takes the other, and motions for me to get behind him. "You know how to drive these?" I shout to him as he revs up the engine. He nods.

"We also observed Zanarkand, as you did," he replies, and off we go, following Bahamut, who seems to be a bit of a speed demon—but he and Shiva are enjoying it immensely, judging by their whooping.

As expected, the streets of Luca are teeming with people, all galvanized by the upcoming blitzball game. Even after Sin was gone, even after the game ceased to be the only escape from everyday life and the deadly fear that came with it, the game still goes on.

The motorcycles take us quickly through the city despite the human traffic, and pretty soon, Bahamut leads us up to the back of the stadium. However, clusters of fans are already there shrieking their heads off, roped off from the back door entrance and partially restrained by guards in Bevelle uniform (probably demoted to crowd control after Yuna upended the church). They are holding out blitzballs and posters and things, obviously waiting for autographs.

Bahamut kills the engine of his motorcycle, and he and Shiva hop off. Ifrit does the same, and I follow him. Two of the guards, acting as valets, take our vehicles; Shiva tips them and they leave. The three of them seem completely at ease. Good for them. What about me?

Shiva is first, as she goes along the rope barrier, rapidly signing her alias on random items and even posing for pictures. Bahamut also. I even hear him shamelessly flirting with one girl—oh, I'm sorry, did she just faint? Too bad. One of the guards is forced to carry her inside.

Ifrit stands behind Shiva, looking more intimidating that anything else, but even so, he silently takes a few proffered posters and signs them, without any words being said. I think the fans are slightly afraid of him.

As for me, people are shouting things like "Are you feeling better? Can you perform tonight?" Et cetera. Ifrit silences some of them by saying, "Of course he's all right. He's here, isn't he?" As for the rest, he whispers to me, "Just smile and wave. Grit your teeth. Sign a few things."

The stadium is emptied of water and covered over with a retractable dome for concerts, which takes all of fifteen minutes thanks to the technological advances of the past two years. Stadium workers are setting up the instruments and sound system for us; Shiva is going around, watching them like a hawk—making sure everything is done right and in a timely fashion. As for the rest of us, we are sitting in a room not far from the locker rooms—Bahamut is humming to himself and Ifrit is sitting quietly with a giant plush Tonberry that someone gave to Shiva and that she, in turn, made him hold for her while she signed more autographs.

As for me, I am observing the flowers sitting in a vase on the nearby table. At first glance, it seemed to be a mere decoration that someone had placed in the room as an afterthought; however, as I study the flowers closer, I realize that they are actually quite fresh, trimmed and arranged with care. Clover blooms from the Calm Lands, Macalanian snowdrop lilies mingled with the eight-petal Kilika fire blossoms, presided over by a single, regal Besaid hibiscus. And, the rarest of them all, the Sanubian desert rose. It was rather scrubby compared to the roses that grew in wealthy Bevelle courtyards, but hardy and fragrant. Braska's favorite flower.

Shiva notices my sudden interest in botany when she returns. "Nice flowers, eh?" she says, winking at me. I frown, but perhaps it is her presence that causes a certain idea to form in my mind. I keep my silence and the angry scowl on my face as I reach out to pluck one of the flowers from the vase.

The stadium guard I send tells me that Yuna has accepted one of the VIP boxes in the stadium—normally she would not, being the person she is—but for Lulu's comfort, she has made an exception.

I have been in those boxes once or twice, and I remember well. I see three rows of five seats each, chairs padded, reclinable, with armrests and side tables.

On one side table will be a cluster of short-stemmed Sanubian desert roses, barely fully bloomed. They will bloom for a little while longer, clearly and neatly addressed to dra bnehlacc uv dra Al Bhed.

What she does with them, I cannot yet see.

FIN part 4