~*~

            Thunder rumbled, crackling and sputtering overhead.

            The walls rattled a little.

            "I hope Nadia's okay," Kairi said, looking out past the veranda toward the stormy ocean, presumably across the sea to where her home and children were.

            Sora glanced up from his reading.  He was seated on his parents' couch in their front room.  He and Kairi had arrived yesterday afternoon; it was a day later.

            "She really hates storms.  You know, ever since…"

            "She hates a lot of things 'ever since.'"  Sora went back to the newspaper.  "And I'm at the top of her list."

            Kairi frowned.

            "Sora…"

            "I know.  I should try harder, right?  I've been trying—for eight years.  She just keeps pushing me away."  He turned the page and continued reading.

            The woman finally ceased her pacing in front of the large window.  She joined her husband on the couch and leaned back heavily into the cushions.  Her hand rested on her belly, where her third child was growing—Sora's second.

            "I feel like she hates me more every year, too," Kairi mumbled.

            "She doesn't hate you.  You're her mother."

            "But…"  She sighed.  She knew Sora didn't want to talk about Nadia.  He rarely did.  She was only bothering him now, wasn't she?

            Outside, lightning rippled across the sky.

            Silently, Kairi rose and left Sora to his paper.

            The thunder boomed.

            The walls shook.

~*~

            Kairi sat in the kitchen with her head in her hands and her hands resting on the large wooden table in the middle of the room.

            She couldn't stand being around Sora like this…not when he got so distant.  Did he not care about Nadia's attitude anymore?  Did he not care about the huge rift in their family?

            "Kairi?"

            It was Sora's mother, a kindly woman with soft brown hair highlighted by a few strands of gray.  Her eyes were very light blue, like the summer sky, and always very welcoming.

            Kairi looked up at the woman.  She had never known her own mother.  The closest to parents she had ever had growing up were kindly village women who shared the responsibility of feeding, clothing, and educating her.  But there had never been one single woman—one person to hold Kairi late at night when she woke up a nightmare, one person to always kiss her knee when it got scraped.

            The older woman put a kettle of water over the fire and patiently remained in front of the hearth.  As she moved, her full skirt of tan swayed about her in waves of fabric.  She was something of what Kairi had fantasized her true mother to be:  warmhearted, beautiful, calm, intelligent…  Even a slightly wry sense of humor lurking underneath.

            But Kairi didn't need jokes right now.  She needed a shoulder.  Her companion was wise to this:  she brought Kairi steaming tea that was dark and strong.  She sat next to Kairi and touched the younger woman's hand.

            "Andra," Kairi mumbled, but she found words bunching up on her tongue, refusing to come out.

            "You can tell me anything," Sora's mother replied, nudging the mug a little closer toward Kairi.  "Or, you don't have to say anything at all.  I just figured you needed company, that's all."

            "Sometimes I think you have psychic powers or something," Kairi replied, a hint of laughter in her voice.

            "I haven't been a woman for all this time for nothing."

            "You can see right through me, I know."

            "I'm not prying, Kairi."

            The red-haired woman leaned over the mug in front of her and let steam fill her nostrils.  The scent was intense.  Kairi felt a little less dreamy and sulky.  She felt more awake.  The pain in her heart dulled slightly.

            "Ah, so it's working," Andra replied.  "My mother gave this to me whenever I would fight with Sora's father.  Just wait until you drink it.  I know it always cleared my head."

            "Sora and I didn't fight…"

            "Misunderstanding?"

            Kairi's hand slipped off the table and returned to her belly, to the life that grew within.  "I'm just a little scared…"

            "About another baby?  You're still plenty young, sweetheart."

            "No, not that.  I'm not worried about having the baby.  I'm just worried about…"  She sighed.  "About bringing another child into a family where there is so much pain."

            Andra gestured to the mug.  "Take a sip."

            Kairi obeyed.  "Wow…this is amazing…"

            "Makes everything seem a little clearer, hmm?"

            "Yes."

            "Now…  What about this pain?  Is your marriage in trouble?"

            Kairi shook her head.  "No, no, Sora is as wonderful as ever, and we still love each other very much.  Our marriage is wonderful…at least it would be.  The problem, well…  It's Nadia."

            "Nadia does have her troubles.  I think she's a good person, though."

            "Of course she is.  It's just that…she refuses to get along with Sora.  She was so young, you know…  Her mind connects Sora's return with her father's death.  In a way, I think she might even blame him for what happened to Riku!"

            But that idea was ridiculous, wasn't it?

            Kairi drank a little more.  The pungent taste lingered on her tongue.

            "As Nadia gets older, she gets angrier.  Towards me as well."

            "Even today, no one really understands what happened to Riku," Andra told her, rubbing Kairi's back gently.  "And it's probably hardest for Nadia." 

            "It's hard for me, too," Kairi said in her own defense.

            The other woman just smiled sympathetically, but proceeded to push her point forward.

            "When you're a child, your whole world is your parents.  So, think about it:  she lost half her world.  After Riku died, things began to change a lot for her."

            "I know that.  Kids see things in black and white.  I thought that she would understand better as she grew up.  But it's just the opposite!"

            "Kairi, just give it some time.  Nadia's an intelligent young lady.  You and I both know that.  With time, she will begin to see the grays in between."

            By this time, Kairi was polishing off her tea.  "Thanks, Andra.  For your conversation—and for this miracle tea.  What in the world do you make it with?"

            The older woman just laughed.  "Oh, honey, I just put in four times as many tea leaves as usual!"

~*~

            All his hair was white, now.  All that was left of it, anyway.  His face had more wrinkles.  His breathing was worse.  His body was thinner.  And his eyes…they sometimes seemed slightly dim.

            "Hi, Dad," Sora said, sitting down.

            The old man's eyes brightened up and his dried, thin lips curved into a smile.  "Sora!  When did you get here?"

            "Yesterday, but…"

            "Yeah.  I'm afraid I was getting over a bit of a cold."  His speech was raw and broken; words alternated with sharp and painful-sounding breaths.

            "Dad…"

            "I know.  I do own a mirror."

            Sora took his father's wrist into his own hand.  He could have traced every bone—had he wanted to.  There was no fat at all.  The skin was loose, limp, and horribly pale.

            "Dad…"

            "I'm old, Sora.  It happens to the best of us."

            Sora just gulped.  He'd been here not too long ago for his father's seventieth birthday celebration.  And now, in the course of a few months…

             "I'm surprised I made it this far—"  He paused for several tense moments, wheezing and then coughing.  Sora jumped up and pounded his back.

            His father gave him an appreciative nod.  "Your mother took excellent care of me—despite my protests."

            Sora smiled slightly, but he could not keep sadness from his eyes.

            "She made me quit smoking, finally…  Too late I fear.  Doctor says my lungs are as good as shot."  He held one frail hand to his chest and inhaled slowly, wincing.

            "Dad—"  Sora's youthful hand bolted out.

            "I knew I was heading down this road, son.  We are all on it.  Just some of us have been traveling longer."

            "Don't say stuff like that, Dad."

            "You're right.  I'd rather talk about my grandchildren."

            There was a sparkle in the old man's eyes, brighter than the stars twinkling above in the clear night sky.  Sora sat there on the veranda, facing his father, touching his father's hand, gazing into his father's eyes.  His father was in a rocking chair with a blanket over his legs, and Sora was on a short bench pulled up before him.

            "Oh—God…  I should have brought them..."

            "No…  I'd rather have Jalen remember me—if he remembers me—as I was a few months ago."

            "Of course he'll remember you!" Sora cried, a little defensive.  He saw only passiveness in the old man's face and added somberly, "I wouldn't let him forget you, Dad."

            A chill lingered in the air, but they ignored it.

            "All right, Sora.  All right."

            "Damn!" the young man exclaimed, lurching upward from his seat.  "I don't like talking about you in the past tense!"

            "Soon, though—"

            "Please, Dad, no…  You'll be here a while longer, won't you?"

            And he was crying out from inside his heart, fighting for some sense of closeness absent from his youth—a level of connection he had brushed off, undervalued, during childhood.  Perhaps he had once had something and foolishly ignored it…  Perhaps it was too late now…

            "The one that's coming now.  Think it will be another son?  Or a daughter?"

            "Dad…"

            "I personally like girls," the old man said, grinning with slightly yellowed teeth.  "They make even-tempered babies, or so I've seen."

            His son looked down at his slightly hollowed face.  A few tears began to slide down Sora's cheeks.  They shimmered brightly in the starlight.

            "Now you.  Boy!"  The old man whistled.  "You were such a fussy kid!  As soon as you could, you were out of your crib, crawling and stumbling and whatnot.  You tried walking so many times before you got the hang of it.  But you kept getting up, kept trying to escape—first your room, then the house, then, it seemed, the island."  He chuckled.

            "Dad…"

            "You knew what you wanted—the whole world!  You wanted to see everything.  An optimistic thirst for adventure, the neighbors called it—when they were being polite anyway.  But it was damned frightening for me and your mother!  We thought you were going to get yourself killed..."

            "Dad…"

            The old man stopped his excited talk and looked up, looked up from the creaking rocking chair and the blanket across his bony old knees.  "Your mother…  You will take care of her for me, won't you?"

            Sora threw his arms around his father.  He throat began to heave with choked sobs, as there existed no words profound enough for the moment.

            "Sora, my son, my only son…  I love you…  I'm so very proud of you…"

            Together, they wept.

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This chapter went much more easily for me, and I'm glad.  I did the first part before and was able to get the last two sections done in about two hours (which is pretty good for me).  Editing was another few minutes, but I only did so once or twice, so forgive me if you find more errors than usual.  I know proofreading right after you write is a horrible idea, I should let it sit for a few days, then edit, etc…  Well, I'll do this and a hundred times as much when I'm an actual novelistß CAUTION:  wishful thinking ahead!!!

Thank you for your kind reviews, everyone!  They really inspired me and I'm really bursting with plans for Life Is But A Dream.  This chapter would have had a Nadia segment and not been so short, but I wanted to keep the focus on Kairi and Sora.  I honestly don't know how well I'm doing with their characters nowadays since they are now in their early thirties.  O.o`  I know Nadia should be more genuine since I'm actually her age (16).  If you'd like to know, a lot of the relationships here are extrapolated from different levels of interaction I've witnessed within generations of my own family (gotta love my family—and I do!).  Perhaps a close father/child relationship is more of my wishful thinking, since my father hasn't really been a father to my sisters and me for ten years.  It's very strange to live in a house with a man you hardly know, someone who used to act like he loved you…  Heh.  Life sure is full of those bittersweet bits, ne? 

Enough of that melodrama…  I'm very disappointed in today's world upon finding out how many of you don't know the glory that is FFVI!  Go out and buy Final Fantasy Anthology now!  It is well worth your money.  Discover Crystals, Espers, dragons…a stupid purple octopus—wait, scratch that last one (I hate you, Ultros!) Most of all, you've gotta have the sheer beauty of the opera scene…  Y'all need 6.  'Tis a classic, my friends!  Let the 2D magic into your hearts!

[/preaching]  Stay tuned…!