Haha. My first FFX fic. I'm sort of a little bit quite proud of it, seeing as I've had writer's block stubbornly chiseled into my writing hand for a couple months, at least.
Blah, in any case. This is quite an alternate universe ficcy. Here's the background:
When Seymour popped the question, Yuna simply thought and said yes instead of consulting her dead paternal figure, so nobody ever went to the Farplane. They never saw Jyscal, as a result. Since they dallied a little in Guadosalam, Isaaru made it to Zanarkand before Yuna and kicked Sin in every direction possible.
To those who've finished the game, yeah, I know Auron is actually…… And that Tidus is, in reality, a ….. But I'm not spoiling it for those who came here to be spoiled. Haha. Foiled y'all.
Disclaimers are for weenies!
That'll Do
Ch.1 – The Calm Before The…
Green grass. Who ever thought that there would ever be green grass, unmarred by the footprints of a fiend, unscathed by Sin's wrath?
Who would have guessed, but it was there. It was definitely there.
Tidus exhaled heavily, blowing his breath through his teeth. Everything had changed. Isaaru's older guardian had come back from Zanarkand with an Al Bhed that had saved him somewhere along the path, but minus his younger brother, Pacce, as well as Isaaru himself. Since an Al Bhed had helped with a quest of Yevon, Wakka had relaxed his views a good deal. Word was that he and Rikku were seeing each other; word also was that they made a volatile couple.
Lulu had also loosened up considerably after the Calm began. She had shed her dark gown in favor of something more comfortable. All of her Moogles were either in a display case or in storage. She was also seeing someone: a young man named Crele. At least, he was pretty sure it was Crele. It was last time he'd met up with her, anyway.
Kimahri and Auron had opened up a small dojo on the outskirts of a formerly small village called Davecchi, which had flourished after the Calm settled over Spira.
Tidus had simply roamed, finishing off a few last rogue fiends before settling down in the Calm Lands. It had, thankfully, stayed mostly unpopulated, save a few Tea Shacks that popped up and some curious tourists who had heard of him somehow or another.
And Yuna…
The frown already evident on his face deepened as his thoughts plodded down a well-worn road.
He almost couldn't bear to think of Yuna, living in that creepy city, sleeping in the same bed with that creepy guy! And not just sleeping; they even had a kid now. It disgusted him to think of what Seymour did to Yuna for that child.
Although, he had to admit, the kid looked like the best of two races: pale skin, green eyes, long, elegant fingers, a slender, compact frame, and Yuna's tawny hair. He acted so mature for his five years, reputably.
'Maybe I should go visit,' Tidus mused. 'I haven't seen any of them since Yuna's boy was born.'
Almost as quickly as the thought came up, he dismissed it. It wasn't as though he hadn't thought of it before. But he was far too proud now to ever go back to see them, not after that rather… embarrassing incident that had happened last time. He still cringed to think about it.
True to his thoughts, he cringed.
A polite pounding rattled his door.
Tidus automatically scowled, looking down at the blade placed across his knees that he'd been polishing before his thoughts wandered. Tourists, probably. Breaking his knuckles across their faces would be the best pain he'd ever felt.
He leaned back on his chair to the window and flicked the drapes a little to see whether the knock was worth answering. His eyes widened.
Long legs; and quite nice legs at that. A nicely shaped butt; a slim, toned body that was evident through her form-fitting clothing; a quiet, but powerful posture with legs slightly akimbo and her hands clasped behind her back, hip cocked to one side; and an alluring, well-developed chest.
'Please, in the name of all things holy, please let her have a face worthy of the body,' Tidus prayed fervently. He looked up.
Score!! Flowing dark tresses, eyes so hazel that they were almost red, and a mouth like a flower.
Tidus sprang out of his seat, grabbing a shirt from the table and pulling it on. The material flopped around to reveal a long, brownish scar that ranged across his entire back. He squirmed around in the smallish room, as though having a boxing match with an invisible opponent, until he got his shirt on. He pushed a hand through his hair and ran the other one over his jaw, considering his reflection in the sword. For a moment, he contemplated the possibility of having a quick shave with his longsword, but dismissed it rapidly, as the blade would likely take off half of his face with the stubble. He shrugged, and hoped that she would go for the rough-and-tumble look. That's what tourists liked, anyway: a built, scarred, slightly insane warrior, ageless and immortal, not a blonde, clean-shaven, 21-year-old man.
Reaching for the handle, he yanked on it, and slammed the door open with all the grace of a decaying Sand Worm.