~*~

            "Nadia?"

            The girl looked up from her place on Selphie's couch.  She was bent over, cradling a pillow against her chest.  Her face was contorted with a mixture of anger, sadness, and fatigue.

            Edgar lingered several feet away.  The room in which they stood, the house's sitting room, was very dark; no one had bothered with a lantern.  The only light came from beneath the kitchen door, which was shut.

            Nadia only hugged the pillow closer to herself.

            She looked positively wounded.

            "Would you mind if I sat down?"

            "Do what you want."

            Edgar moved awkwardly to sit on the couch, but he chose a place at the very end.  A good distance lay between the two young people.  It was quiet and dark.  He could barely discern the outline of her trembling form.

            He finally decided to break the silence.

            "Tidus let me in."

            "Ah."

            "I went to your house to see how things were doing and, well…"  Edgar shook his head.  He was still somewhat in disbelief.  "Your mother is really frantic.  She was worried that something might have happened to you after you just walked out."

            "I couldn't stay in that house any longer," Nadia said coldly.  "Anyway, she has Sora to lean on."

            "Really?  The impression I had was that those two aren't speaking."

            The girl had nothing to say to this.

            Edgar reclined, putting one arm across the padded armrest and the other over the back of the couch.  "My parents and I are not really much better."

            Nadia turned her head slightly.  Her cheek was cushioned in the pillow.  She seemed willing to listen, so Edgar took a deep breath as he prepared to elaborate.  He hadn't bothered thinking about his parents since he had left them over a month ago.

            "You know…  All of the other islands are so much different than this place.  There aren't any cities here…only a village.  No one worries about having a lot of money.  Everyone wants only enough to take care of his family.  There is neither greed nor ruthless competition.

            "It is so…easygoing here."

            She continued to listen silently.

            "I really enjoy it."

            "Most of the kids say it's boring.  I told you before that there aren't any sights."

            He smiled.  "I remember."

            But he was thinking about the wonderful things he had seen on the island.  She was among them.  She…she was the most important.

            To see her in pain made him hurt too.

            "But what do sights have to do with your parents?" she pressed, her words partially muffled as they passed through pillowcase and feather.

            "There isn't greed here, as I said.  However, it thrives everywhere else.  All around.  People care more about exchanging currency favorably than talking to the person with whom they're bartering."

            "Yeah…?"

            "Well, my parents fit this profile perfectly.  All they concern themselves with is money—and power."

            As he spoke, he felt his cheeks flush with anger.  He harbored so much resentment toward his parents' selfish ways.  He worried how violently he might release it.  So he set his eyes on Nadia's silhouette and tried to remain calm.

            "My father is the owner of the only major private school.  Have you heard of it?  Figaro Academy?"

            "I think I might have seen it when we visited Sora's parents…  Huge stone building—kinda like a castle?"

            "That's it."

            "So what's wrong with a school?  We don't even have schools around here."

            "Education is fine.  It's what my parents do with their wealth and position that bothers me.  My father has a place of prominence in the community, and he flaunts this fact every chance he gets.  At times my mother acts likes she's a queen or something.  She even looks down her nose at the mayor's wife."

            "So you're ashamed of them because of how they act?"

            "I have a right to be ashamed because of what they do.  Those two have so much money and all they can think to do with it is spend it on themselves.  If you want an example, I have one for you:  the only reason they donated money to the city once was so that they could have a park named after them!"

            She seemed a little startled and Edgar realized his temper had gotten the best of him and he was yelling.  He settled back into his seat, apologizing profusely.  He used one hand to hold his forehead, maybe to hide the expression of pure disgust written on his face.

            "The worst part is…they expect me to be just like them."

            "So you left?"

            "I could not stand it anymore!  I finished school and I was out of there for good.  I did not want their money—I did not want to take away their sole joy in life," he scoffed.  "I wanted to become an inventor and actually do something with myself that could benefit other people."

            Nadia sat up a little, allowing the pillow to slip from her chest down into her lap.  "What kind of things do you like to invent?"

            Edgar recognized that he was cracking her shell, if only by a little.  A smile spread across his lips.  The man groped for a lamp and found one on the table beside him.  He pulled out one of his recent inventions and snapped it between his fingers.  A small flame sprouted at the end of the small metal canister.

            Nadia gasped in surprise, watching carefully as he lit the wick inside the lamp and then extinguished the fire within his palm with another flick of the wrist.  A modest amount of light flooded over them, and Edgar saw that Nadia's eyes were scrunched up and red from crying.

            "Thank you," she said quietly.  "For telling me your story.  I wish I could tell you mine…"  She held up one hand to brush away some hair stuck to her face.

            His brow creased and his cheeks grew redder when he saw the deep bruises circling her wrist.

            "Nadia, who did this to you?"

            "Oh," she said dully, lifting up her other arm.  "Look: a matching set."

            Edgar stood.  "Was it Sora?"

            She nodded absently, inspecting the black-purple wounds.

            The man clenched his fist.  "I can see why your mother isn't speaking with him, then," he said as his anger mounted.  Had Sora and Nadia merely engaged in a screaming match, forgiveness would have been simple…

            But Sora had inflicted serious harm.  He could not be easily forgiven.

            "Selphie went out to get me some ointment," Nadia said, ignoring Edgar's transforming demeanor.  "I'll be fine.  I fought back, anyway."  She smiled to herself.  "Sora was really surprised by that, I think."

            Edgar stood in front of her like a sentry.

            "C'mon, sit down already.  You wouldn't want to make Sora really mad anyway.  He was…scary."  She wasn't smiling anymore.  In fact, she had gone a little pale.

            He relented and sat back down, next to her this time.  He pulled her arm across his own to examine her wrist.

            "It was like he became a different person.  I was frightened as Hell," Nadia admitted quietly.  "The look in his eyes…  And the way he slammed me against the wall—"

            "The way he what—!"  Edgar was already launching himself from the couch again, but Nadia grabbed for his shirt, wincing as her fingers wrapped around the cloth.

            "Oh, watch your wrist…"

            The girl was holding it against her chest, her face crinkled in pain.  "Damn it," she growled, biting down hard on her already scabbed lip.

            "Nadia, I know you said some terrible things to Sora, and perhaps you even fought him—but there was no excuse for him to hurt you!"

            Bright light flooded across the room.

            "I agree with that."

            It was Selphie, entering from the kitchen.  She had brown hair of medium length and wore a yellow shirt and loose cream-colored pants.  In her hand was a small glass jar of off-white cream.

            She approached Nadia.  "Sorry it took me so long.  I stopped to talk to your mother for a few minutes.  I told her that you would be staying with us for a while."

            Nadia turned her head to the side.

            "She needs to know where you are.  Is that all right?"

            "I don't care," the girl replied.

            "Well, that's okay, honey.  Now give me your wrists."  She took Nadia's right arm and began to apply the ointment.  Nadia shuddered a little.  "It tingles at first," Selphie told her.  "But it'll help you heal faster."

            Nadia clenched her teeth as the treatment progressed.  Edgar's heart lurched with every small grimace of pain that appeared on her face.  He himself had never experienced such a bad bruise.  He could only imagine how sore it was.

            "Edgar," Selphie said as she switched to working on Nadia's other arm.  "I know all you want to do right now is punch Sora's lights out.  I understand; I felt the exact same way when I was over there.  But you can't, all right?  That family has just been ripped apart, and Kairi doesn't need any more stress—not with the baby coming and everything."

            "But it isn't due yet," Nadia interjected, frowning.

            Selphie sighed softly.  "I'm only saying she doesn't need more stress.  If you want to stay here, Nadia, I'm fine with that.  Tidus and I will take care of you for as long as you need."

            "Thanks, Selphie."

            But Edgar was grumbling to himself.  The idea of punching Sora right between the eyes was very appealing at that moment.

            Selphie finished applying the ointment and rubbed the excess from her hands onto a towel, which she then placed across Nadia's lap.  She sat down, somewhat heavily, in an armchair across from the other two.

            It was quiet then, the only sound muffled footsteps overhead.  Selphie explained that Tidus was probably putting their daughter, Rinny, to bed, and that the girl could be pretty insistent about staying up late.

            There was a clock in the sitting room and it announced the arrival of the eleventh hour.

            "I should be going," Edgar decided.  He stood.

            "You're going home, right?" Selphie wanted to know, eyeing him.

            "Yes, m'lady," he told her tiredly.  "Straight home."  His eyes went to Nadia's shiny wrists, which were resting on the white towel in her lap.  She had her head turned down so it was impossible to know how she was feeling.

            "I'll show you out," Selphie announced.  She waited for Edgar to give Nadia a quick goodbye (one which failed to conjure a response), and then took him through the kitchen to the back door.

            "Thank you for having me," Edgar told her, bowing his head quickly.  He walked out into the dark night.

            "Wait—!"

            He stopped.

            "Please don't make any trouble," Selphie said quietly, appealing to him with motherly green eyes.  She was leaning out, leaning on the doorknob.  "All of them have had too much already."

            "I know."  He really wanted to defend Nadia.  His heart cried out to do so.

            But he could not.

            "I won't do anything," Edgar said, making himself promise it on the inside.

            "Come over around lunchtime tomorrow, all right?  Maybe she'll be feeling better by then and we can sort things out."

            "Maybe."

~*~

            Sora stood in the kitchen doorway, his eyes resting on Kairi's back.  She was sitting at the counter on a tall stool, bending over the fumes of an incredibly strong cup of tea.  She had not spoken to him for hours.

            Not since Nadia had walked out.

            He knew that his wife could sense his presence.  Their bond was too strong for her not to feel him watching.  But he could not sense her thoughts tonight.  She was working at shutting him out.

            "Kairi?" he tried finally.  Because she had allowed him to do so, he had stood behind her for some time.  It must have been forty minutes now.  He just wanted to be as close to her as possible.

            She did not even flinch.

            "Kairi, I think you should try and go to bed.  I can sleep down here if you want."

            The woman sipped some tea.

            "C'mon, Kairi.  Take care of yourself.  Maybe you can have Jalen sleep next to you, okay?"

            Silence.

            "Kairi, go to bed."

            "Don't you dare give me orders!" she cried, whipping her body around so fast that she knocked the ceramic mug across the counter.  It hit the wall and shattered, sending out sharp splinters and bursts of boiling liquid.

            There were tears streaming down Kairi's cheeks in thick rivers.  Her eyes themselves were red, as though she had been crying for hours.

            She probably had.

            "Kai—"

            "Sora, I don't even know who you are anymore!"

            It felt as though a weight had just been thrown against his chest.  He stumbled backward a few steps.  He felt…terrified.  Surely the feeling was evident on his face.

            "How could you have done that to my daughter?"

            Because, Kairi…there's something horrible inside of me…  Something I thought was dead…

            Kairi's mouth opened slightly as she groped for words.  She was breathing hard.  "Y-You weren't the person I know!  You were a monster!"

            A monster.  That's right.  I'm a monster, Kairi.

            The tears kept flowing.  She was standing now, but keeping a good distance from him.

            "Our family is ruined," she murmured over and over.  She turned her face upward.  She looked so frightened.  "Everything I ever cared about is ruined!"

            "Kairi, no…"

            "Nadia's right, isn't she?  Riku…  Everything she said about Riku was right!"

            "No.  He was sick, Kairi.  You know we didn't kill him."

            "We might as well have!"

            "Why the Hell are you talking like this?  Stop it, Kairi—"

            "You know it's true!"  She waved at him a finger filled with accusation.  "The two of us and Riku—we ruined his life!"

            No, don't talk like this.  Please don't!

            "We—ruined—everything…"  She was sinking down to the tile floor, now, her back sliding against the wall.  Her eyes were huge and red as they stared upward, begging for answers.  "I couldn't love him back," she whispered.  "Not the way he loved me..."

            The wounds from eight years ago were being violently ripped open in both their hearts.  The blood…the memories…  Spilling everywhere.

            "Selfish!  Selfish!  Selfish!" Kairi screamed over and over again until she started having dry heaves.

            I'm a monster…  Look what I've done to everyone I've cared about…  I should just die…!

            Sora could only watch as his wife suffered through so much emotional trauma.

            I'm the reason for everyone's pain.  I should never have come back here.  Everyone I care about is suffering—or already dead.  I don't deserve to live.  I just bring pain everywhere I go, don't I?

            "Kairi, I'm leaving," Sora spoke softly.  "You and Nadia never have to see me again."

            She stopped coughing and froze in her crumpled position on the floor.

            "I'm sorry.  I never meant for things to be this way."

            "…Sora…"

            "I have to get out of here."

            "Sora!"

            "Forgive me, Kairi…for everything."  He hoped that someday she could understand that he had never meant any harm.  "I'm leaving now."

            He walked slowly toward the door.  His cheeks were wet.

            "Sora!"

            This is it, he thought.  The end of everything

            Sora could hear Kairi stumbling, falling against the counter, her hands racing across the table.  There was a great thump and he looked back, instinctively, to see her collapsed on the floor, gripping her belly with both hands.

            "The baby…"

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