"There was so much bluff, fatherly indulgence in his manner that Marius, now suddenly transported from despair to hope, was quite bewildered."
Book Eight: Enchantment and Despair, VII: Old heart versus young heart
Les Misérables – Victor Hugo
CHAPTER EIGHT: Old Heart Versus Young Heart
--
Yuna
--
"Thankyou for the meal, Lulu. It was wonderful." She meant it, too. Yuna had never truly sampled authentic Zanarkand cuisine; her father was always watchful and wary of street vendors, and Shelinda only cooked Bevellian food from her home city, wholesome but utterly unexotic.
"You're just lucky it wasn't Wakka cooking," said Tidus at her side, taking advantage of his red-headed friend's absence. "Coach can't tell a spatula from his elbow."
"You would do well to keep quiet, freeloader," the black mage admonished. "Whether it's Wakka or myself, you'll take what you get. And, it was my pleasure, Yuna."
Yuna had skipped dinner that night with Shelinda, much to the maid's chagrin. Their relationship had become more and more strained of late; the ex-Acolyte no doubt translated Yuna's clumsy attempts to conceal her nightly outings as the frivolous moods of a self-interested young girl, meant to vex. For Yuna, it was a relief to be in a place where she did not have to look over her shoulder every passing moment.
Lulu's visage took on a serious demeanor as she cleared the last of the plates (having waved Yuna away from them in a motherly fashion) and finally took a seat at the table. "Yuna. I invited you here because I feel we owe you an explanation for last night."
Yuna glanced sideways at Tidus; he looked uncharacteristically abashed, though Yuna thought it might be something to do with the glare that Lulu was directing his way. The Blitzer still bore the war wounds of his conflict with Gippal; a faint purple bruise on his jaw and a slightly swollen bottom lip. Yet as he raised those arresting sea-blue eyes to look into hers, she thought that he had lost none of his beauty. "Yuna, I'm sorry about yesterday. I'm sorry you had to see that. And I'm sorry about Gippal."
Yuna wrung her hands together under the table, embarrassed. "I don't think he meant any harm." Not truly, anyway. It was only half a lie.
Tidus seemed to think otherwise, his expression visibly darkening, but before he could say anything, Lulu cut him off with a sharp look. "Yuna," she sighed, wearing a tired expression that did not suit her. "I believe it might help if you understood his story. You see, like Rikku, Gippal is actually the son of a rather prestigious Al Bhed."
Tidus gave a short laugh at the look of surprise on Yuna's face. "Wouldn't know it to hear him speak, would you?"
"His father is the head of the Machine Faction," continued the ex-Guardian, ignoring the interruption. "Cid, I believe, wanted to join their two families by marrying his sister to Gippal's father. Instead she lost her innocence to a passing foreigner who never looked upon her again. Or so the story goes."
"So they might have been cousins in another life," Tidus interjected. "Just think of that!"
Lulu shot him a withering glance. "I believe Cid still means to cement the two families by encouraging a bond between Gippal and Rikku instead. He never says so directly, only hints. But the hints are enough. Rikku's too young to be aware of it, but Gippal knows."
"Oh, he knows alright. And he hates being told what to do. And he hates his parents even more," added Tidus. "They fight non-stop. He's almost out of the house as much as me."
Yuna filled in the blanks. "So even if he liked Rikku, he would rebel against the match."
"Of course," answered Tidus, "He just wants the opposite of whatever they want."
Yuna could not help but think of poor Rikku, who was blissfully unaware of all of this. Sincere, innocent, wonderful Rikku. Yet somehow she could not fault Gippal either. If his parents are truly so oppressive, it is natural to rebel. She swallowed back a lump in her throat, wondering if under all her excuses, that is exactly what she was doing; rebelling against her father.
"I realise that this doesn't account for his actions," Lulu continued. "But it goes some way towards explaining… his nature, you understand."
Yuna made some small noise of assent, if only for Lulu's benefit. The truth was, she had never really been upset with Gippal, and certainly not with Tidus. Only bemused. And now it grieved her that the two boy's friendship had been injured. The last thing she wanted to be was someone who brought disharmony into Tidus' life.
Somewhat to Yuna's relief, they talked no more of Gippal that evening. After washing down dinner with a glass of Bevellian plum wine, they retired to the living room, where Lulu promptly spread her heavy black skirts over the piano stool and awakened the keys of her instrument with long white fingers. She played a few traditional pieces for Yuna; Via Purifico, Servants of the Mountain and the haunting Guadosalam. The mage was an exceptional player, pouring all her soul and sorrow into the timeless melodies.
Yuna watched her interestedly, fascinated to finally gain an insight into how the beautiful ex-Guardian lived. Her house was full of things that did not seem to belong to her; bright things, men's things, like limited edition Blitzballs, gleaming trophies and plastic sports flags. There were traces of Wakka's life everywhere, but no mementos of Lulu's pilgramage, no Guardian's tools, not a whisper of Lady Ginnem left in her world. She remembered how Lulu had spoken of her shame and guilt that night in A-East. How sad she must have been all those years. Was there anything more tragic than a failed Summoner, a wasted life? Yuna wondered when Wakka might have first wandered into his wife's life, if he appeared suddenly like another Zanarkander she knew, like the sunlight in her gray. Perhaps they were not such an odd couple as she had first imagined.
Tidus was quick to break the maudlin mood that Lulu's playing inspired, searching out a Sphere Break board and coaching Yuna in a game against the mage, whispering moves in her ear when she faltered, helping her cheat whenever he could then shamelessly denying it. She couldn't remember ever smiling so much.
Yuna was leafing through a volume on Blitzball regulations, found on Lulu and Wakka's ample bookshelves, when he cornered her again much later. He's bored, she sensed immediately, with some amusement. Happily she reflected how easily she could read his face now, how well she was beginning to know his moods.
Her Blitzer seemed to take every opportunity to get in her space, leaning obtrusively over her shoulder to ascertain the book in her hands. "Taking up blitzing? Please, Yuna, I'm offended! Why don't you just ask the pro?"
She turned her neck and smiled, trying not to think about his proximity or the way his warm breath tickled the hairs on her neck. "You're right. Where is Wakka?" She pretended to look around the room for the absent Abes coach, feeling suddenly playful.
Tidus' response was to tickle her mercilessly, grin promising revenge; Yuna laughed, the flared ends of her sleeves dancing as she fought him off.
"I'm not taking up Blitzball," she protested, a bit breathlessly, when she was a safe distance away from him, "but I would like to understand what I'm watching. Lulu, may I borrow this?" She waved the book to the woman across the room.
Lulu had been watching them with an unreadable look in those ruby-coloured irises. "Of course," she said smoothly. "Take as many as you wish."
"Thankyou!" Yuna replied. Then she yawned. Her hand fluttered instantly over her mouth in embarassment, but Tidus only gave her an affectionate, knowing look.
"Come on Yuna," he said warmly. "I'll walk you home."
--
The night was still young in the City of Lights, of course, so Tidus and Yuna did not make their homeward journey alone. Adoring couples strolled alongside them on streets bathed in blue moonlight, hands entwined and heads close. Children, too, tugging tiredly on their mother's hands or else swaying atop their father's shoulders, stifling yawns.
Yuna begged her young guardian to stop for a few moments to listen to a jazz musician who was playing on the B-North road to her home. One of the things she missed most sorely from her island home was the simple pleasure of live music. Watching the golden-haired young man masterfully pluck melodies from his instrument, Yuna thought fondly of the beach concert that had been held on her seventeenth nameday.
The musician finished his song with a flourish, and Yuna tossed some gil into his hat after generously applauding his piece. He bowed to her at the waist and winked, threads of his beaded blonde hair falling over his eyes. Tidus laughed and steered her away by the shoulders before she could be swept away by another song.
"You like that kind of music? I'll take you to C-East one day," he promised her, when they were far enough away that the musician's song was little more than a whisper. "The sunshine festival runs all month there. Plus I can get us in the VIP section, no sweat. Abes' perks."
He flashed her a smile so beautiful that she found it painful to point out, "Then, these concerts only play in the… day. In the sunshine." When I must stay in the house, with Shelinda.
"Oh." Said Tidus, mirth sliding from his face as he realised his mistake. "Yeah. Guess not then."
The awkwardness was quick to set in after that. They walked in silence, suddenly two strangers amongst mothers and fathers and lovers. Yuna watched his handsome face and felt despairingly the distance that separated them. She sidled instinctively closer to his shoulder, wanting to be near to him in some way.
She wished she had the freedom to take his hand and hold it.
The favourite part of her day drew to a close all too suddenly as they arrived at those familiar iron gates. I am beginning to hate the sight of them, she realised. Every day they look more like the bars of a prison. Tidus helped her climb the first footholds and she clambered down the opposite side with as much grace as she could muster.
Yuna dusted her hands on her flower-printed skirts and thanked him for her evening. "Tomorrow, if you come, it must be before the lamplights are lit," she told him. She imagined it might be a little thoughtless of her to just assume that he would come tomorrow, which is why she added the if. And yet, he had never missed a day.
When the Blitzer returned her request with a quizzical look, she explained, "Father will be coming home then."
"Ahh. Gotcha. I'll be--arghhh!"
Tidus leapt backwards at some unseen danger, Yuna forwards, all her nerves ablaze, assaulted by wild imaginings of thieves, or Shelinda awake or – Yevon forbid! – her father come home early.
"What happened?!" she cried, eyes darting around the shadows for the source of his panic. "Tidus - what-"
"-I don't know, something just brushed—"
"-are you okay--"
"-what is that?!-"
Two pairs of eyes fell on a small shadow now ghosting its way in and out of Tidus' legs. Only when the fireflies cast light on him did Kimahri reveal himself, mewing innocently as though he had been there all along.
"A cat?" Tidus said, disbelieving.
It was too much for Yuna. Her fear turned to blessed relief, arms clutching at her sides as she broke into peals of laughter. "A kitten, oh fearless star of the Zanarkand Abes!"
For a moment it was all Tidus could do to gape at her, all astonishment. He waited until her laughter finally subsided before commenting, "So she's sarcastic, now. I think we've been a bad influence on you, Yuna." But his eyes twinkled.
"Father brought Kimahri home from the Calm Lands," Yuna explained, her heart rate finally regaining its natural pace. "He likes you," she insisted.
"Uh-huh," said Tidus skeptically. "Kimahri, is it? Go on, little guy." He ushered the kitten towards her through the bars, where Kimahri went willingly into Yuna's waiting arms. She cradled the beast close, granting him the affection that Tidus had denied.
"Tomorrow, then," her Zanarkand boy promised. "Sleep sweet, Yuna."
When he was gone, Yuna kneeled and briefly traced the outline of a slumbering hibiscus with her finger, twin to the silver one dangling from her necklace. It burst into full bloom at the touch, filling the night air with perfume.
--
Tidus
--
He got back to the houseboat late. He had wandered, letting the streets that he loved so well guide him home rather than choose any conscious path. Lights are on, he noted absently. Dad must be home.
He was right; even obliged to pass the sight of his old man snoring noisily on the sofa to reach his room at the back of the houseboat. It was surprisingly unchaotic for the room of a seventeen year old boy; Tidus sometimes thought he kept it so in order to balance the general disorder of his father's life. Tournament trophies lined his walls, along with vintage posters of famous Blitzers and more than a few busty female athletes. Al-Bhed trinkets cluttered his table-tops; presents from Rikku and Gippal, or else bought on a whim from some tacky A-East stall.
A commsphere sat by his bedside with photos tacked up around it; him with the Abes, when he had first made the team at sixteen; a giddy Rikku with an arm around Gippal, green eyes sparkling up at the camera; one from Wakka and Lulu's wedding and finally, a faded photograph of his mother. The left half of the photo, where his father had once featured, had been torn off by Tidus in a fit of fury after a particularly brutal war of words with Jecht.
His eyes grazed past the photo on his way to bed, as they always did, his mother's far-away eyes following him across the room. Tidus gratefully stripped off his shirt, freed his tired feet of their sneakers and collapsed spread-eagle on his sheets. Mottled reflections of the seawater stole through his window and played upon the ceiling. Tidus watched them idly, Yuna still on his mind.
It irritated him, that she had been forced to decline his invitation, but the anger was directed at the father rather than the daughter. Lulu might choose to berate her for keeping secrets from her old man, but Tidus understood more deeply than the mage ever could. And it occurred to him that he was the one to encourage the southern girl that she keep those secret, back when he first knew her.
While he lay there languidly replaying the evening's events in his head, a soft thump resounded from the next room, like something heavy – and human – meeting the ground. Dad? he thought instantly. I thought he was out cold on the sofa.
It took some effort for Tidus to wrench himself away from the warmth of his bed, but visions of his old man lying in a puddle of his own drool were enough to rouse his sentiments as the dutiful son. The old Blitz washout had little enough dignity left as it was. As much as Tidus hated him, he didn't want to see him lose it altogether. For Mom's sake, if not my own.
He padded barefoot to his father's room, cracked the door open. "Dad?" he whispered. He could just make out the glow of the sphere cupboard, hazy blue light spilling from its edges.
Tidus weighed his options. He was either saving his old man from a very painful mistake or setting himself up for a loud, drunken scolding. Or he could go just go back to bed.
He knotted his hands in his hair for a split second, wanting to smash his forehead against the door. I can't do it, can I? he agonised. Can't leave the old bastard to his problems. Tidus sighed, and pushed the door open.
"Hey, Dad?" he called softly. He blinked, eyes adjusting to the dark and the raw blue glow that permeated it. There was a figure standing in the doorway to the walk-in closet.
It wasn't his old man.
"Hey--!" Tidus called instinctively. "Who the hell are—"
The man launched himself at Tidus faster than he could think, the momentum carrying them both to the floor. The back of Tidus' head smacked painfully against the wood and for a moment his vision went dark.
When it cleared he found himself looking into a pair of Al-Bhed goggles. Tidus blinked up at his assailant, disorientated. Then his Blitzball training kicked in, awareness replacing shock. The man was taller than him by a head; but Tidus was the fastest Blitzer in Spira, and he had a punishing right hook. He demonstrated just that as he pulled his arm free and lunged for his attacker's eyes.
His fist connected, shattering the left lens. The Al-Bhed reared back in pain, clutching his face, and Tidus quickly followed, fear and adrenaline driving him forward to make another strike.
Grab the goggles! he told himself. He thought that if he could just unmask the thief then they might run for fear of being recognised. He had just managed to hook a finger in the frames when another assailant came into view, grabbing Tidus' coiled fist and shackling it in a firm grip. Gods, how many are there?! Tidus lunged at him, trying for a headbutt, but the combined strength of the two weakened his struggles easily.
The man he had just punched was cursing blackly – in Spiran, not an Al-Bhed after all – and when he had adjusted his broken goggles he took his vengeance on Tidus.
Tidus felt his lip split open, blood trickling down his chin. Black spots danced before his eyes as his head collided with the wooden floor once again, and his muscles tensed, expecting another blow.
It never came.
The weight of the two men left him in an instant, and somewhere in all the blood and confusion his father's voice roared out.
Somewhere, glass shattered. Tidus managed to raise himself on his elbows in time to see his father throw one of the men to the floor, before rounding on the next, nostrils flaring like some untamed beast. "What the HELL are you bastards doing on my boat?! Get out, before I KILL you!" Jecht bellowed, face a thunderhead. "Don't you dare touch my son! GET OUT!"
If goggles could reflect fear, Tidus would have seen them quake with it. One of the trespassers was already leaping through the harbour window, a crash of water confirming his clumsy exit. The others – there had been three in total, he realised blearily – were not far behind, but they could not seem to move fast enough for Jecht, who wrestled the last bodily to the window.
Soon all that could be heard was the ragged breath of his father and the distant splash of the thieves retreating on the water. The sharp shooting pain of his split lip finally kicked in, or atleast he finally acknowledged it, and he lifted a hand to wipe the blood away from his chin. That was when Jecht's murderous gaze finally settled upon him, eyes filled with hellfire.
Tidus sat frozen before him. He'd never seen that look in his father's eyes before. Never.
"Are you alright, boy?"
"F-Fine…" Tidus rasped out. Jecht seemed to bring himself under control then, eyes softening, almost with – what, concern? - as he walked towards Tidus, wrapped his hand around his arm and hauled him roughly to his feet. Tidus could only stand numbly, stunned into silence, as his father brushed debris from his son's arms. He found himself shaking, but not from fear. What is he… why is he doing this?
"Hey, boy. Boy." Jecht waited until his son met his eyes, then spoke firmly, "You're alright. Alright? Pull it together. Come on n' we'll get ya cleaned up."
Tidus let himself be guided to the kitchen, wondering if he might be dreaming. The attackers, the ruined spheres, the blood on his face – all faded beneath his father's hand pushing lightly on his shoulder, a touch of restrained tenderness that he had not felt in ten long years.
--
Yuna
--
"Shelinda… how do you know when you're in love?"
The hairbrush halted mid-stroke. The ex-Acolyte gave her a surprised look in the mirror. "Who are you in love with, Miss Yuna?"
"No one," sighed Yuna. "I just want to know how you know."
She had anticipated a better response. Orginally Yuna had hoped that this evening ritual of hair-brushing might become a bonding exercise, an opportunity to know the ex-Acolyte better. That hope had faded when it became clear that Shelinda would not overstep her boundaries as a servant and inferior.
They had spent the afternoon at the old Yevon temple in C-West, a true city treasure with its ancient, crumbling towers and lost prayers carved into its stone. Tourists from southern Spira flooded to the spot – mostly from Luca, though Yuna had recognised more than a few Kilikan drawls – to snap at its features with expensive-looking machina. Yuna had no such equipment; she preferred to lock such things in her memory, the same way she had carried with her the beloved image of Besaid's hidden waterfall, and the shape of her mother's memorial stone in Bevelle.
Now as the day drew quietly to an end, Yuna had retired to her chambers, waiting for the time when she could go down to the garden. Flames crackled in the small fireplace to stave off the night's chill. Usually she preferred Kimahri to warm her toes, but he had been sent from the room; Shelinda had insisted she was allergic to the feline, and recoiled whenever the beast came near. As though he were some ten foot Ronso, Yuna thought with a sense of exasperation, not a kitten a tenth her size.
"The Scrolls of Yevon tell us," Shelinda recited, "that that which we love for a purpose is blighted by desire. If our desire is only to keep them we will lose that which it is we love."
"I see." The same Yu Yevon who spread his evil lies and brought tragedy to Spira for a thousand years, you mean? Yuna thought tiredly. The reply saddened her. Shelinda had once devoted her whole being to a false religion. It seemed a part of her could never return from that. She winced as Shelinda caught a tangle in her hair, and wearily expressed her wishes to retire for the night.
"You will not be taking a midnight sup this evening then, Miss Yuna?"
"No, Shelinda."
"For if you tell me now, you see, I will be able to prepare it in advance." There was a hint – just the slightest hint - of irritation in her voice.
"No thankyou, Shelinda. I wasn't planning-"
"Only it rather frightens me when I hear you downstairs at night. If you could warn me, it would be the smallest inconvenience to prepare you a light supper."
"I am sorry, Shelinda," Yuna persisted weakly. "I promise, I will tell you next time."
The maid bowed at the waist as she left the room, but Yuna just bowed her head, blowing her bangs out of her eyes with a sigh. I suppose I couldn't expect it to be easy forever, she thought ruefully. I will just have to be even quieter when I go into Zanarkand.
She urged the troubles to the back of her mind and instead set to devouring Tackling the game: styles, tactics and rules of modern day Blitzball. She read a whole chapter on volley shots ("always keep your eye on the target!") before her eyelids began to feel heavy.
She tucked the book under her mattress. She could likely explain it away with a white lie if Shelinda happened upon it, but her father was a different story. Why does he dislike Blitzball so? she had to wonder again. The violence of the game could hardly shock a master of the katana, surely. Is it possible he associated some cruel memory with the sport? Or worse, perhaps there was a rogue player in their midst, past or present, that he had a personal grievance against? Shall I ever know his secrets? Sighing, Yuna dismissed the unpleasant question. To muse upon the mystery for too long would likely drive her to madness. Besides, she had secrets too, and they were most assuredly not for Auron's ears.
Fireflies guided her way through the garden to the wrought iron gate. He had been waiting for her, it seemed, his slim profile forming a familiar silhouette against the night streets of Zanarkand. A quiet greeting, a rattle of metal, and Tidus had climbed easily over the gate with his athlete's grace.
She gasped the moment his face came into view. It bore more than just the marks of his quarrel with Gippal; now he sported a dark, wicked-looking bruise on his cheekbone and a broken, bloody lip. He looked like he had just come back from the Crusaders.
"What happened?" she asked, heart trembling.
Yuna let him speak as he recounted the astonishing events of the evening past, nerves on edge when he divulged his struggle with the house-thieves. Yet curiously this part of the story seemed to upset herself more than him; he lingered instead on his father's part in the drama, and the brief glimpse of affection he had shown his son. Though such behaviour seemed natural to Yuna, who had been cherished from childhood, Tidus seemed genuinely troubled by it, unable to comprehend why his father had acted in such a way.
The Blitz star was pacing the length of the garden now, head bowed, hands clutching his golden hair in an agonised hold. "I just don't understand him, Yuna. Sometimes I feel like he wishes I'd never been born… and sometimes I think that maybe… just maybe…"
"Tidus, are you crying?"
"No," he scoffed.
"Tidus--"
"I'm not, okay? I just have something in my eye." As she had feared, he turned away from her, locking his grief from her view.
Yuna watched his back, the barely perceptible shaking of his shoulders, and felt an invisible hand compress her heart. She followed him, naked feet whispering along the untamed grass and rested her hand on his arm, as light and as tentative as the brush of a pyrefly.
Tears were leaking from those ever-blue eyes, unforeseen rain from a place where there had once been only sunshine.
He met her gaze again with some effort, the moon casting a timid light over his dear face. "My old man… always told me I was a crybaby. Guess he was right."
"Don't say such things," she whispered fiercely. Her throat was dry, unable to articulate a heart aching for his suffering. Bravely, she clutched a corner of one long, dusty pink sleeve, lifting the gauze to his eyes, and began to gently brush away the tremble of tears.
It happened in a flash, quick and unexpected like summer lightening. His hands, slipping around her back to encircle her waist, pulling her roughly against him.
It was like the day she had fallen from the garden gate and found herself paralyzed in Tidus' arms before she had time to breathe; suddenly she was crushed against his chest, his cheek resting upon her head and his tears falling into her hair.
A lifetime of fatherly embraces had not prepared Yuna for this moment, wrapped in the arms of this child, this boy, this stranger who had swept into her life like the tides on dry shores. It stirred something deep and dangerous inside her, something that she had been trying so hard to keep hidden.
Yet she wanted this, had dreamed of this. Her fingers curled and stretched like the petals of a flower, stilling in place over his heart. Gingerly, she leaned into his embrace and hoped desperately that he couldn't hear her heart beating.
"You don't have to be so brave in front of me, you know," she whispered into his chest, finally finding her voice. "It's only me. Yuna, remember? The girl who got lost in the first street she walked down."
Ragged laughter choked out of him at that, and Yuna, encouraged, felt a swell of determination. It has always been I, she realised, seeking his reassurance, grabbing at his footsteps. I never imagined that I had anything to give him in return. Perhaps she could not find the courage to tell him how much he meant to her, but she could atleast find the courage to return the friendship that he had so selflessly offered her.
"Back on Besaid," she began, "when I was a little girl, there was an old married couple who used to sell starfruit in the village." Yuna found the old, familiar tale slipping from her tongue unthinkingly. The subject was so delicate that a story seemed to her the wisest way to broach it. "It always seemed as though he treated her very ill. He would raise his voice to her in the market, snap at her when she spoiled the local children with free slices. I used to feel very sorry for her. My father disapproved too, I think, but he said we must leave them be. One day, while out walking, she was drawn into the sand dunes. I remember because they called my father to help. I had to stand far back with the other women, and I watched. When they finally drew her out, her husband held her and wept and wept. It frightened me, the way he cried, you know? He carried her home in his arms."
Tidus had grown steadily calmer as she spoke, the tension draining from his body, the cruel torrent of tears slowly ebbing. "Some people, they just… express their affection in strange ways." She bit her lower lip, thoughtful, and offered, "You should just sit with him sometimes."
"What?" he asked softly.
"Your father," she explained. "You don't always have to talk, you know?" She was thinking of her own father, and the quiet afternoons they shared by Besadian waterfalls. In her own heart she felt impatient for Auron's return.
Tidus didn't reply to her proposal. He took a deep, shuddering breath that she felt beneath her fingertips, an obvious effort to bring himself under control at last. "You can't tell anyone I cried," he said finally, half-jokingly, lips against her hair. "Especially Gippal."
"I wouldn't dream of it," she smiled. Suddenly unafraid, she held him tighter.
They parted when the lights of Zanarkand came to life around them, blinking on one by one as though heralding her father's homecoming. Yuna untangled herself from Tidus with a sense of awkwardness - the inhibitions that had left her for one exquisite moment suddenly came flooding back, that dreadful shyness sweeping through her like an affliction.
As though sensing Auron's impending arrival, Tidus climbed the gate with some haste, his trainers hitting the ground on the other side with an audible smack. But he made no immediate move to leave. Instead he caught up her hand through the bars and threaded their fingers together for an all-too-brief moment. "Yuna," he whispered, his voice rough. "Thankyou."
Yuna watched him leave in a state of dizziness; mind a furious blur of emotions she could barely recognise, let alone rein in. Somehow she managed to fumble her way to the doorstep, where she sat down to wait for Auron, and wonder just how much trouble her heart was in.
--
Auron
--
Zanarkand is growing on me, thought Auron. While he had never seen the metropolis through Yuna's starry eyes, he had began to feel a kind of solace in the call of The Sleepless City's amber lights.
The bustling streets of B-North were a far cry from Besaid's slumbering shores; Auron passed whole families still making merry in the small hours of the morning. He found himself enjoying the company, even smiling to himself when children pointed disbelievingly at the heavy and imposing katana strapped to his back. He observed fathers calling them away with gentle words, yet felt no envy. After all, he was a father, too.
Auron's mood darkened, of course, when he crossed paths with a young bleach-blonde Blitzer. Blitzball; the one feature of the city that he could never embrace, and could never escape. Its followers were everywhere, like a plague; around every corner, cocky and always ostentatiously dressed, not willing to go unnoticed. And where they were not, their symbols were, emblazoned on schoolboys' satchels or pinned to the robes of pretty admirers. Or worse, tattooed, scrawled black insignias on skin, that seemed to Auron more a blemish than a badge of honour. Jecht had worn one, of course. That he and I never cross paths, he prayed, and almost made the sign of Yevon; a lost habit from his days in the temples of Bevelle.
Auron employed every warrior's trick to enter his garden unnoticed – Zanarkand might be sleepless, but his daughter was not. And so his heart almost skipped a beat when he saw her standing there.
For a moment he would have sworn he saw a Fayth in the place of his daughter; a pale, bright beauty; some distant, holy thing. Her white skin shone in the dark night air. He blinked, and she became his daughter again; that little girl with sand between her toes, drawing seabirds for him or running to his lap with new bruises. She had been playing with the kitten on the doorstep, but had come to her feet when she heard the screech of the black iron gate.
"Yuna," he said as he swiftly approached her, "you shouldn't be outside at this hour. Has something happened?"
He opened his arms just in time for her to glide into them. "Nothing happened, father," she assured him. "I just missed you." Her last words were muffled as she buried her nose into the crimson shade of his overcoat.
Auron, so touched by her sincerity, was moved to kiss the top of her head, where the waves of her soft brown hair radiated outwards. With a sense of incomparable comfort, the old warrior took in the smell that was undeniably home; hibiscus, his daughter's freshly washed hair, and the faintest trace of Besaid's golden sands. He could not account for her affectionate mood, but was reassured by the warmth of her welcome.
They held each other for some time in the safety of the garden. In that moment, Auron could see their future together stretched out before him, one long and loving. Unbreakable, he convinced himself.
This happy vision, one they both so deserved, lasted until she said, "You're the most wonderful father in the whole of Spira, and I wanted to make sure you knew it. I'm so glad you're my father."
Then Yuna scooped the kitten into her arms, gathered her skirts and tiptoed back into the house, never suspecting that if she had only chanced to look back, she would have seen Auron's face distorted with pain.
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AUTHOR'S NOTES
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IT'S FOUR IN THE MORNING AND I'M FINALLY UPLOADING THIS. Don't say I don't love you guys.
I'm sorry. I know I take a ridiculous amount of time to update. I'm just naturally not a fast writer. It doesn't mean I'm giving up on this piece. I intend to finish it! Anyway, you can thank Phoebe Caulfield, Lilac Broderick and whitephoenix33 for giving me that extra push to finish this before the end of the month!
I wasn't happy with this chapter despite how long it took to finish. There was a lot of repetition, I think. I'm never happy with the latest chapter I write. It's a tradition now.
Soooo… people who are asking about when Yuna will discover Auron's secrets, and when Tidus might come to his senses. Well, I have a lot of fic to go, and logically I don't want to wrap up all my plot points too quickly. Can't spend all my drama in one chapter!
I've done a first revision of some of the earlier chapters, but it's an ongoing process. I also VERY roughly plotted the rest of the story to the end, which was twenty chapters in total. Don't laugh. I know I took about three years to get to eight chapters, but I WILL finish so help me Yu Yevon!
Next chapter: Blitzball, bonding, Lulu's perspective, perhaps some new cameos and some plot pushing.
REVIEW REPLIES
Lilac Broderick – Gippal has indeed been up to something, though whether he remembered it in the morning is a different story! Tidus/Yuna cuteness is my inspiration for every single chapter, so you can be sure there'll be more.
Phoebe Caulfield – Thankyou, after reading your review I brought up the chapter and wrote and wrote until steam rose from the keyboard! You're right; Auron doesn't think of Yuna as an adult in the slightest, and he's troubled by every sign she shows of growing into one. And it's going to get much worse. Lulu is a useful character to have on-hand; a motherly figure that Yuna can confide in. Auron's own choice of mother figure, Shelinda, is less successful as a confidante, as you can see.
Androk1– There, you see; trouble, talk, tears and tiyuna sweetness; I hope I delivered for you!
Aimedmischief – Thankyou, glad you enjoyed it! Please read the next one too!
JessRoryYunaTidusForever – Happy to have a new reader, especially one that leaves reviews, thankyou! Sorry for the wait, but I hope the tiyuna moments made up for it.
Yunalesca13 – Ha ha, thanks, I'm glad it inspires such a range of emotions for you! Sorry the update took so long!
TgIiDgUiS – Thanks, I will! Happy to hear you're enjoying it! Please keep reviewing!
Whitephoenix33 – You always notice little things I sneak in, thankyou! Yes, the girl at the bar was Paine. I think that might be her only cameo in this story though, unless I find another use for her. And no, Yuna does not know about Lord Braska. Why? - The first clues are in this chapter. You have to remember that this is an alternate universe, and the characters have alternate pasts. Thanks for the little push you gave me last week.
FrozenDragon – I don't intend to bring in a full-on Eponine. I'm just not interested in Tidus having another love interest. But Rikku is going to fulfil one of Eponine's roles in a future chapter. And I tried to bring in more Tiyuna in this chapter, hope it was enough for you! There'll be plenty more coming up.
Sam – Thankyou Sam, you are another one of my most faithful reviewers, I can't tell you how grateful I am for that. And yes, the central sphery problem is certainly emerging and should take center stage very soon!
Randomblahs – Hee, you're right, I definitely need some drama! I'm not good at drama, though. I'll give it my best shot for ya. Auron might find out one day, but it might not be Yuna that tells him. Bwahahahahaha.
Defining Aerith – Don't be worried, I'm not giving up on this story anytime soon! The updates are long and laborious – mostly because of the detail you mentioned! - but they will keep coming. OTP over here too ; )
Nya-Miko – Thankyou for saying it's prettily-written! I endeavor to write prettily, especially during Yuna's perspectives as she's such a sweet character.
Sandler – Thankyou for writing such a detailed review, it honestly makes my day to read such lovely things. You're right; together in a day they are most definitely not; Yuna, however, is moving closer towards those feelings than Tidus. I would hate for this story to remain uncompleted too; especially as I've already written the ending. I do take a ridiculously long time to update, but writing doesn't come as quickly and easily to me as some people. I wish I had that gift! But yeah, I'm a grammar nazi when it comes to fanfiction, too. There's no excuse!
Chocopie4 – Sorry this chapter took so long. As for what's next I will say… read and find out!
KashiiandKureji – Thankyou, I'm glad you like the writing style – keeping up that style is what makes these updates so slow! Lots more TidusxYuna to come, that I can promise.
JaimeCrow – Thanks, hope you enjoyed the update! Sorry it was so late.
Kimberly – Thanks Kimberly! Personally I think I need a bit more drama, but I'm glad to hear you like what I have so far!
MinnieMouse8990 – You're right, Zanarkand is quite the magical setting. I love that it's such a huge metropolis that it's easy to be lost in it; that's going to be a significant plot point in the future. Thanks for your compliments, and I will continue to teach you new things about the characters in every chapter, I hope!