Island Life
Muzai
Chapter 7: Like son, like father
Takes place at the same time as the last chapter.
Tidus
Bright sunlight streamed over my bed. Moaning, I rolled to escape the unbearable light. Pain exploded across my right side. Spots danced before my eyes. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to sit up. Looking down though my vision was hazy; I saw the source of my discomfort. My arm was bound tightly to my body with linen in a makeshift splint. Memories of the day before came flooding back as my arm throbbed. Slowly trying not to jar my injury, I slipped out of bed.
After a few false starts, I managed to wrench on a pair of pants. Panting with exhaustion over just that, I decided not to try for a shirt. Great, I looked like a skinny pale imitation of my dad. My muscles protested as I tried to wiggle them to keep them from falling asleep. Sighing, I headed out into the hall. On the way down the stairs, I heard my mom's voice. From the clanking I could tell she was washing up, probably the breakfast dishes. I could easily slip past her and avoid being cooped up in the house all day. Sneaking to the doorway to the kitchen, I peered in. She wasn't even paying attention. Making a break for it, I grasped the door handle and pulled. The hinge squeaked and I froze.
…
Nothing. She didn't even turn around. Jerking the door open fully I dashed through.
I was shortly stunned as I collided with something and found myself on my butt. My arm ached terribly, having taken the brunt of the impact. Looking up I met the gaze of my father.
"Hey dad…"
"Just where do you thing you're going?"
"Out." I muttered under my breath.
"Think again." Jecht reached down grabbing my uninjured arm and hauled me up.
As I reached my feet, he dragged me back inside.
Mom came around the corner when she heard the door shut.
"Hello dear," she leaned over to greet to kiss him. Gah I hate that stuff. Pulling away from him, she looked down at me.
"Morning sweetie."
Eh double Gah did I mention I hate that name even more?
"When did you get up?"
"A little bit ago." I grumble, wanting nothing more than to get rid of her.
"He was trying to sneak out."
"Tidus, you know better!"
After a while, I stopped listening. I knew where that lecture would invariably lead; why I never listened, why I was too rough the usual stuff.
I love my mother…but the only time she ever feels like parenting I when I get into trouble or when dad's not around. I get totally ignored when he's home, lucky he's out all the time fishing and stuff; I don't think I could stand him any more than that. She totally drops everything for him, even their own child. I don't matter. So, I won't depend on them anymore. I'll become a famous star playing Blitzball and everyone will adore me. I won't need them at all, my mother who babies me or my father who calls me one. I'll become strong and take care of myself.
Eventually my mother stopped talking to me or at me, whatever the case may have been and looked to Jecht. God I hate him.
Mom looked at me again and pointed to the kitchen.
"Breakfast, eat it while it's warm."
"Thanks." I muttered, pulling from Jecht's grasp before striding into the kitchen. Plopping down in the chair at the table, I proceeded to poke at the plate set before me. See, normally I would have wolfing down the entire plate before heading outside to play.
But that was before my arm was injured. And seeing how I was right handed, the best I could do was poke at the food. So poke I did.
The bacon slid past the toast. Bacon, it's a commodity, we don't have much live stock, considering the typhoons. Therefore, we have to trade for most normal breakfast fare. Beef, pork and dairy products are imported in, traded for fishes and Thalassa. Can't say I didn't learn anything while at school. I took a bite of bacon. In the other room I could hear my parent's talking.
"I don't know what's wrong with that boy…"
"He'll grow out of it…"
How can you be sure?"
"If you stop babying him."
"Then you have must stop being so hard on him…You aren't your father."
A few more scrambled eggs tumbled off the edge of my plate. Huh, another commodity.
"I was like that at his age."
I had just taken a bite of toast with jam and had gasped. The crumbly sweet bread caught in my throat and I found it hard to breath. Somewhere between knocking my plate over and Jecht pounding on my back, I realized why I hated him. He was my father and I couldn't escape the fact I would turn out like him, and invariably make my son as miserable as I was.
"I hate you!" I shouted as soon as the toast was dislodged.
"I don't want to be anything like you, I hate you!"
And then I ran for my room.
Silence reigned. Jecht gaze traveled up the stairs. Taiki placed her hand on his shoulder.
"I'll talk to him."
"No," Jecht stopped her, kissing her cheek, he headed for the stairs
"He's my son too."
Pushing the door open, he found his son perched on the bed, his face buried in the pillows. Strolling over he caught the boy's arm and gently pulled him up. Tidus gave a squawk of indignation as he was once again handled in that brusque manor. Jecht deposited him on his feet before moving to the door.
"C'mon."
Out of the house and down the path the traveled. Tidus was forced to quicken his pace to match the long strides of his father. They were heading towards the west side of the island. The moved without saying a word through the town and down to the docks. As they passed the bustling market, a few people greeted them.
Clearing through the throng, father and son moved along the wooden walkway. The heavy footfalls of the elder silenced the lighter steps of the boy. Stopping at the edge of the platform, Jecht sat and gestured for Tidus to do the same. They sat on the pier looking out to the clear water.
Tidus looked towards his father but couldn't figure what the man was thinking. His face was unreadable. The silence that settled between them was unbearable, immense. The only impression that proved his dad was alive was the slow rhythmic breathing. Tidus fought to control his breathing as well, his nervousness was overwhelming. Jecht hadn't hit him, hadn't don anything to him so why was he so afraid?
Time wore on and Jecht didn't move, at least not that he could see.
Finally, Tidus could no longer stand the silence.
"Well?" he demanded hotly "aren't you going to say anything?"
"Should I?"
"You dragged me out here for nothing?"
"I thought you had something you wanted to get off your chest, you obviously have a few issues to work out."
"Issues?" Tidus shouted incredulously.
"Hate is a pretty strong word to throw around, what have I done to make you hate me?"
Tidus shut his mouth stunned. Silence joined them once again as the sun moved to greet the western horizon. Presently they heard someone floundering in the shallows. Looking, Tidus saw a young woman struggling with a net. Tidus slid off the dock and began wading to her.
"Where are you going?" his father asked.
"To go help her, it's the right thing to do."
Jecht laughed and the girl looked up startled. Tidus glared at his father, but Jecht only laughed harder. Ignoring him, Tidus caught a hold of the net.
"Want some help?"
The girl who turned out to be Selphie's young neighbor Priscilla nodded.
Jecht jumped down from the docks
He knelt down in the shallows and gathered up a corner of the net. With a bit of work the three hauled the net up to the dock. Dutifully they began removing fishes from the net. To Priscilla's dismay, Tidus found a hole in the woven fabric. She ran for home to tell her mother and promised to return with a second basket for the catch.
Digging in a pocket Jecht pulled out a needle and began repairing on the net. Tidus continued pulling squirming fish from it as he worked. Occasionally, he would look to his father. The setting sun cast an orange glow over his father, illuminating his features. He looked so powerful. Tidus knew Jecht was a proud man, he knew it because that's were he got his own stubborn pride. He looked to his father again. Sitting tall with a needle pressed between his long fingers. He didn't look like the overcritical man who called him a baby. He looked like…someone you could be proud of… Guilt gnawed at his chest.
He was amazed staring at the man he supposedly hated sitting on the beach sewing up a net and watching the sun sinking into the waves.
Without looking at him Jecht asked, "What's on your mind?"
Blinking Tidus looked away, a tinge of pink coloring his cheeks.
"…I.." the boy closed his mouth.
"Well?" The man asked, "And looks at me when you're talking to me."
Tidus turned as he was told and his eyes met his father's. Tidus moved to speak trying not to tear his gaze away from his father.
"Hate…is such a strong word….I guess I was afraid of turning out like you…."
Jecht laughed quietly and ruffled his son's hair.
"Just because you acted as I did as a kid doesn't mean you'll turn out like me."
"But everyone says that-"
"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree…. Yeah, but who ever thought up such an analogy?"
"I don't know."
"Exactly, what do fishers now of apples? Not a damn except if the fall out of a tree into the bay the water carries 'em off never to be seen again.
Before Tidus could reply, Priscilla appeared on the dock with her mother standing behind her. Thanking them profusely, she offered them fish as a thank you.
The two returned home sometime after sunset. The dinner conversation consisted of Jecht's childhood stories. A few yarns, including one about how he and young Lord Braska managed to finish off a pack of sahagins with only a stick between them. Afterward before Tidus moved for bed, Jecht called out him
"Don't you fall out of any more trees, apples bruise easily!"
Tidus sputtered and tripped on the stairs. Slipping into his room Tidus discovered with a peculiar sight. A small plastic tub sat close to his bed with a baby turtle swimming inside.
A note probably written by Kairi, considering about how neat the writing was;
Her name is Lucky…Misery loves company.
Laughing he flopped on the bed and shouted in pain. Something sharp was digging into his back. Reaching out with his good hand, he pulled the source of his pain out.
He heard a soft jangling of shells. A small bracelet of Thalassa resting in his palm. He laughed and dropped back onto his pillows to sleep.
