"Cosette in her solitude, like Marius in his, was ready to be set alight. Fate, with its mysterious and inexorable patience, was slowly bringing together these two beings charged, like thunder-clouds, with electricity, with the latent forces of passion, and destined to meet and mingle in a look as clouds do in a lightening-flash."
-- Book Three: The House in the Rue Plumet, VI: The battle begins
Les Misérables – Victor Hugo
CHAPTER TWO: To Zanarkand
--
Yuna
--
She went to Belgemine that morning, to apologise that she wouldn't be continuing to learn the art of Sending.
The old woman only shook her head and laughed gently. "You were born with the talent, child," she told Yuna. "There were times when you were the one teaching me. It's in your blood," she added wisely.
"But," she protested, "My father was never a Sender, or even a Summoner."
Belgemine just smiled sadly and kissed her on both cheeks. "Be off with you, child. You'll do well in Zanarkand, see if you don't. But promise you'll come back and visit your poor old teacher sometime. She'll miss you sorely."
Yesterday Yuna had visited all her favourite retreats on the island in order to say her final farewells – the crumbling old ruins by the beach where she used to try and spot every kind of seabird, the hidden lake where she and her father had passed many idle afternoons, and of course the Temple, where despite its broken purpose, there was always peace to be found.
"I will," she promised Belgemine, feeling suddenly emotional.
Yuna had thought that she wouldn't be leaving much behind on Besaid, but she was beginning to realise just how wrong she had been.
Oh, I will.
--
Auron
--
It had not taken long to make arrangements. Auron had never travelled by Airship before – though he chose not to test Yuna's nerves by revealing that particular fact – but he had made contacts on Besaid who used them often. After listening to advice from a number of different islanders, Auron had acquired two places aboard the reliable Celsius.
To his chagrin, the most difficult task proved to be securing his katana on the Airship flight. Travelling around Spira in his youth, strapped securely to his back, the weapon had essentially been his third arm; he had gone nowhere without it. Now, in a world free of Sin, the people of Spira were bolder and more prone to violence, it seemed. And so reluctantly, after a little gentle prompting from Yuna, he had settled on locking it with the rest of their luggage.
Yuna, a trembling bird among the unfamiliar machina, clutched one hand desperately to his as the Celsius took to the skies, the other wrapped tightly around her seatbelt, as though it might break at any moment. She needn't have bothered, of course – Auron had already checked her buckle more times than was strictly necessary.
So many misgivings… but they had all been cast aside when Yuna's face lit up when taking in the infinity of the blue skies, and for a long time thereafter she did nothing but gaze out of her window in childish wonderment, her nerves soothed at last. It warmed his heart to see her so happy; it was a pleasure he hadn't felt in a long while.
It seems we have made the right decision, he thought, not without reassurance.
"Are you sure we've brought enough for the journey?" Yuna fretted, when they were some hours into the voyage. "It is the other side of Spira, after all…"
"We'll be there in no time at all," he assured her, putting a hand atop hers. "Wait and see."
--
Yuna
--
Their first destination in Zanarkand, much to Yuna's lasting disappointment, was a bank.
A bank, she regarded miserably, and thought that it did not even look especially exotic.
"I won't be long, Yuna," her father had told her. "Don't leave the car."
"Yes, father," she had said automatically.
But that had been fifteen minutes ago, and Yuna found her nerves flaring with new anticipation.
She had tried peering out of the windows to pass the time. But the left was no good - there stood the wall of the unexotic bank. The right was a little better – it gave a view across the street of a store selling machina of some sort, and occasionally people walked inside or out in their strange, brightly-coloured clothing. Not enough, however, to quench Yuna's new appetite. In the front window, the street seemed to go on forever, and all she could see were continuous rows of machina transport, never stopping long enough for Yuna to get a proper look. She was obliged to crane her neck to see out the back window, and what she saw did not seem particularly worth it in any case.
Father sure is taking a long time, she thought, habitually folding her hands on her lap. She found herself smiling into the car window impatiently, as though it was another person. "Don't leave the car," she told it absently.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a little voice inside her head suggested, it wouldn't hurt to take a peek.
She looked down and realised her fingers were tapping distractedly on the back of her other hand. She tried to will them to stop, but they wouldn't obey.
Just a peek, she mused. Where was the harm in just stepping outside the car to have a look? If there was any trouble, she could return. Her father need never know.
"I suppose "just a peek" wouldn't hurt," she agreed.
Quietly, and ever-so-cautiously, as though her father might be waiting outside for the sole purpose of catching her out, she clicked open the car door and stepped carefully out.
The first thing she did was look up. The buildings are so tall, was her first, rather childish thought. So tall, infact, it made her quite dizzy. She recognised their shapes from the ruined buildings in Besaid – curved like giant candlesticks that reached almost to the clouds. They were all coloured in neon blues and greens, stunning to Yuna's eyes – a noticeable contrast with Besaid's earthy tones. The buildings blinked with orange lights, bright with promise… and with a soaring heart Yuna realised that this time she wasn't just imagining – she really could see them, could touch them!
Far off somewhere, she could hear the beginnings of a commotion. She pricked up her hears and listened closely to the sound of many voices shouting out at once. Father still isn't back, she considered, and perhaps someone is hurt. She wondered if she really believed that.
In the end, it felt as though the decision wasn't really in her control, at all. She could feel the voices pulling her, beckoning her to them. They are the sounds of Zanarkand, she mused. And Zanarkand had been calling to Yuna her whole life, it seemed.
The sounds drew her down a charming side-street filled with flower-pots, then left down a narrow alley, and left again, and there at last was the source of the voices. A crowd was gathered in a wide, paved Plaza, rendered quite beautiful by the glittering orange lights that surrounded it. She had never seen so many people her own age gathered all at once, not that she could remember. They were certainly noisy in their discussion – Yuna caught randomly the words "blitzball", "autograph" and "tournament."
She stepped a little closer, eager to uncover their focus of attention. Yuna was almost at the tail end of the crowd when she realised that it was a blonde-haired boy.
Not just any boy, evidently, and Yuna could see why. He exuded self-confidence, casually twirling a Blitzball on his finger. She assumed he was a player of the sport; his outfit was too unusual to resemble anything but an athelete's uniform, austentacious with its yellow shirt and black leather trouser-shorts. He was a far cry from anyone back on Besaid – even the boys who were of an age with her had been stocky, with lustreless brown hair and long faces covered in freckles. This boy, however… he was muscular, but not ridiculously so, his skin tanned to perfection, and his fine facial features were handsome. Even more mesmerising, she found, was his slightly spiked hair, stirring softly in reaction to the light breeze.
The colour of the sun, she thought fondly. Just like in the songs.
So lost in thought was she, that it took her several moments to realise that the boy was staring right back at her.
"Hi there," he said warmly, and everyone turned to look at her.
Yuna stammered in response, caught off her guard.
"Speak up!" someone prompted her - a young blonde girl decked in green and orange.
When the girl took a step towards her, Yuna's stomach lurched fearfully and she made herself speak. "I'm sorry, I must have taken a wrong turning…" she mumbled, and quickly turned and darted, her cheeks burning.
She didn't even look which way she was going as she quickened her pace, desperate to escape the scrutiny of the crowd. She folded her arms self-consciously and chose the street that looked most like the first one she had thoughtlessly ventured into.
She didn't need to look around to know that everyone she passed was staring at her. Suddenly she felt ridiculously covered up, like a child wrapped in swaddling. It was only a little warmer than it had been in Besaid here, but everyone was wearing shorts, tiny t-shirts and many of the boys wore no shirts at all.
In the intensity of her panic, all the streets had begun to look the same. She regretted ever leaving the car. Foolish girl, she chided herself. I'll bet father's looking for you right now. If you can't show him you can survive here for even one day, he'll never allow you to stay. The thought made her so desperate that she decided she would just have to ask for directions.
She finally picked a man standing under what looked like an Inn of some sort, his leg coolly propped up against a wall. With his tufty, unkempt beard, he almost resembled Gachi, the kind old fisherman from Besaid. He was of an age with Gachi too, his greying hair showing the first signs of receding.
"Excuse me, Sir?" she addressed him timidly.
It was only when she spoke that the man seemed to notice her – he took his leg from the wall and stood up straight. "Sir?" He barked a laugh. "Can I help you with something?"
"Yes," she said, a little hesitantly. "I'm a little lost. Could you please point me in the direction of the bank?"
"I think I know which way you want." He smiled at her in a reassuring sort of way, but Yuna found herself uneasy under the intensity of his gaze. She wrung her hands together behind her back, faltering.
That was when she felt an arm slip casually around her shoulders. "There you are," said a strangely familiar voice. "I've been looking for you all over."
She turned around, and found the Blitzball boy standing there. He smiled at her first, then at the man with the beard.
"My friend is new to A-East," he apologised to the man. "She doesn't really know her way around yet. I'll take it from here." When the man stood his ground, it seemed to Yuna that the boy shot him a meaningful look. "We're sorry to have bothered you," he continued, his tone slow and firm.
Meanwhile, Yuna just stood by uselessly while the two men sized each other up. She felt like she should be telling him that no, they weren't friends at all. But bizarrely, she felt like she could trust this stranger more than the other. Or perhaps, she thought ashamedly, she only wanted to.
Finally, not-Gachi grumbled something under his breath and turned away in the opposite direction.
When he was safely out of range, the young boy took his arm from around Yuna's shoulders and placed his hands on them instead, regarding her with a sigh.
"You're not from around here, are you?" he asked. His accent seemed very foreign to her, but at the same time it was pleasant to her ears.
"No," she admitted shyly. "I only arrived here today."
"Well, first lesson," he grinned, showing his perfect smile, "Don't let jerks like that" – here he gestured over his shoulder with his thumb, "know that you're lost."
"Oh," she heard herself say, rather stupidly.
"Second lesson," he said, more seriously, "Don't wander in this part of town by yourself in the first place. Were you on your own? Did you lose someone?"
Something in his tone reminded her of an adult addressing a lost child, but she felt too much like a child at that moment to truly be offended. "My father. I was in my father's car, and he told me to stay there, but I… well…"
"Thought you'd take a look around?"
She smiled sheepishly.
He laughed. "That sounds like I'd something I'd do. Do you remember what the street looked like at all?"
She tried to remember. "We were outside a bank, but I didn't catch the name of it."
"Hmm," he considered, "It's probably just the old Yevon bank. That's near here. Come on, I'll take you."
She thought he would offer her his arm, like the elders used to do at Besaid, like her father always did, but instead he just smiled that easy smile of his and beckoned her to follow.
"So," he said as they walked, "I take it this is your first time in A-East, right? Which part you from?"
His manner was somewhat childlike, she observed, as she watched him frequently turning himself round to walk backwards, or stretching his arms behind his head in a leisurely fashion. It was an endearing quality, she decided.
"I'm from the Isle of Besaid," she replied, shyly. "And this is my first time in Zanarkand."
His blue eyes widened in surprise. "Where?" he asked. But he didn't even pause to allow her an answer as he continued, "Your first time in Zanarkand? No wonder you got so lost!"
"I haven't been in a proper city for many years," she admitted. "I am finding it a little difficult to navigate. All these streets feel rather like a maze to me, I don't understand why I'm the only one lost!" As soon as she finished speaking, she wondered where all those words had come from. She was usually prone to shyness around strangers. He probably thinks I'm just ignorant.
But he only watched her through those smiling blue eyes, she thought perhaps in an understanding way. Presently, he said to her, "Listen, if you're ever lost in these parts again, just whistle and I'll come getcha, okay?"
She cocked her head to one side, confused.
"Like this." He put his fingers to his mouth and blew, lending a shrill, high-pitched sound to the air. It surprised her so much that she gasped in surprise.
He began to laugh again, when suddenly a booming voice sounded, "YUNA."
Abruptly, boy and girl both turned around in search of the source. There, at the far opposite side of the street, stood Auron. He looked utterly menacing in his deep crimson robe and sunglasses as he strode quickly downhill to meet her. He looked quite furious, too, Yuna noted.
"That's my father up there," Yuna explained meekly to the boy, feeling her stomach lurch at the prospect of facing her father's wrath. She assumed the boy's "whistle" must have unwittingly alerted him to them.
"Huh?" said the boy, crooking an eyebrow. "Well, he looks kinda… mad," he finished unsurely, "so I guess I'll just let you go alone from here."
She thanked the boy quickly, bowing to him in the old Yevon fashion. When she raised her head again she found him looking slightly surprised, but he simply reached up to scratch the back of his head nervously, and said, "You're welcome." Then she turned and hurried over to her father.
"Who is that?" Auron barked, when she reached him. He didn't even glance at her, but instead looked – or more accurately, glared – straight past her at the boy, who was still standing there, watching.
"Oh," she suddenly realised, "I don't know his name… he helped me find my way back…"
"I thought I told you not to leave the car," her father interrupted harshly.
"I'm so sorry, I just wanted a quick look, but then I--"
"I'll hear your explanations later," he cut in once more. He offered his arm – though in truth, the motion seemed more forced than offered - and she took it swiftly, eager not to encourage her father's ire.
Before they turned the corner, she threw one last, rueful glance over her shoulder and inexplicably found herself overjoyed to see the boy still smiling after her.
--
Tidus
--
"Hey, where's Bespade?" he asked, as he was presented with a full plate of spaghetti.
Lulu regarded him curiously, setting her hands on her hips. "Firstly, I assume you mean Besaid and secondly… where did you hear that name?"
"Yeah," Wakka chimed in, "Geography's not exactly your strong point, ya?"
Tidus scowled at him over the table until Lulu clipped the back of her husband's head and commented, "Oh, while it is your strong point, I suppose, Wakka? I seem to remember someone thinking Djose was a musical instrument in his younger days."
Tidus snorted with laughter as Wakka's face turned a shade to shame his fiery red hair. It was odd to see the big, well-muscled man blush. And hilarious. Odd, and hilarious.
Lulu was a different picture altogether. For all she looked like some sultry model you might spot in a LeBlanc magazine, she had a stern face and an ever sterner tongue.
Wakka doesn't know what he's gotten himself into, marrying this one, he thought to himself gleefully, until Lulu snapped at him to close his mouth while he was eating. From that moment on, both men ate their meal solemnly, glaring defiantly at Lulu whenever she turned her back to them.
Tidus decided he was never going to get married. Ever.
He tried not to beg for his dinner at Wakka and Lulu's too often, but he hated eating at home, hated home in general, and they seemed to take pity on him. Even though his father was a Blitzball whiz back in his day, he hadn't taught Tidus a thing since he was about eight years old. Wakka had taken his place as his Blitzball Coach, and in many ways as his father, too.
"Besaid is far in the south, a little to the west," Lulu told him knowledgeably, "It's a very small island, with a very simple way of life." She arched a graceful eyebrow in his direction, "Why do you ask?"
"No reason," replied Tidus, and shovelled another spoon of spaghetti into his mouth.
He thought about the girl he had seen in A-East today. Her choice of clothes had given her the air of one of the Summoners of old he had seen in the Sphere Theatre, like Lady Chemina or Lord Braska. She looks like some Yevonite devotee, Rikku had said to him as they watched her walk off. Except that couldn't be true, because the Yevon faith didn't exist anymore, just New Yevon, and the Youth League and a host of other empty faiths that meant nothing to Tidus.
Whatever her story was, she had looked so goddamn helpless standing there that Tidus just couldn't stand still when he watched her inadvertently heading down a black alley. Of course, the fact that she'd been so pretty might have played a part in his decision. She certainly stood out, and not just because of her bizarre wardrobe.
As he gulped down the rest of his meal, he wondered who'd noticed who first… because when he finally caught himself staring at the girl, he realised she'd been staring right back.
She seemed pretty cool, if maybe a little clueless, he thought, strangely fond feelings bubbling up inside him. Usually, he would have tried getting her Sphere number, but that was before he found out that she had the scariest and most intimidating father in the whole of freakin' Spira.
Well, he concluded, except maybe mine.
--
Auron
--
On the car journey to their new residence, Auron meticulously tried to explain to Yuna that this was not Besaid, and that these people were not the friendly islanders she knew from home, and that it was dangerous to wander the streets alone, especially when you were a young girl.
To her credit, Yuna's apology was so fervent that one might have thought she had committed a far worse crime. But at the same time, Auron surmised that she was not telling him the full story of her little adventure. To hear her tell it, she had lost herself in a side-street and was guided back to the bank by a young Zanarkander when she asked him for directions. Well, from the way the boy had stared after her as she scurried up the street, they had talked about more than just directions.
The lying alone irked him, but more disturbing was the realisation that Yuna had disobeyed him for the first time in her life. And we've only been in Zanarkand a day, he thought wearily.
For the moment, however, he was willing to conclude that she was only gripped with excitement. Moving from a near-deserted island to such a city was bound to have some effects on her.
Those were his thoughts when Yuna suddenly ventured to ask, quite out of the blue, "Father, how do you whistle?"
He chuckled shortly, despite himself. He wanted to inwardly curse himself for his inability to stay angry with her for any long period of time, but in a way he was also relieved that she had broken the somewhat frosty silence that had settled between them after she voiced her apology. "Here," he smiled "Put your two fingers on the top of your mouth, like this." He demonstrated, leaving the Sphere to control the car's direction for the time being. When Yuna did the same, he said, "Now blow."
She tried, but only succeeded in blowing soundless air through her teeth.
"Just keep practising," he said, and reached out to ruffle her hair.
And by the number of times he was disturbed from his tea that week with a sharp, piercing sound, she did just that.
--
AUTHOR'S NOTES
--
NEXT CHAPTER: Will feature a little more Tidus background, the introduction of an FFX-2 character, and perhaps another rendez-vous ; )
THIS CHAPTER: So the meeting was very blatantly based on the somewhat awful movie version of Les Mis. But to be fair, I warned you about that early on. It just felt right to me and it was really easy to write, which is unusual for me, and most importantly, I enjoyed writing it.