Rikku burst from the Farplane gate onto the bridge. But a sight halted her feet and almost caused the woman to fall to the ground.
The sight—vision, mirage, whatever it was—was gone practically the exact instant it appeared, leaving no evidence that it had ever been a thing of substance.
Rikku blinked a few times. She had just been overly excited, that was all. She hadn't seen the outline of a very familiar man glowing over there. He—or it, whatever—hadn't been seated on the ledge. Certainly not just as Auron had sat nine years before.
Still, the mere idea was enough to excavate a memory that promptly commandeered Rikku's thoughts. She slid down to sit where he had sat.
"Hey…you all right?" Rikku wondered, approaching the tired-looking man. He appeared almost…weak. She certainly had never seen him in such a state before. She didn't quite know how to react.
"Fine," he uttered gruffly.
"Eh?" She hadn't quite understood him.
Auron looked up at her and forcefully declared, "I am fine."
"Uh-huh," she said, betraying her skepticism. She unstrapped the canteen from her belt and offered it to him.
Auron took it silently, allowing himself a few sips from the rectangular bottle. He wiped excess water from his chapped lips and handed the offering back to the girl, who tied it back on her side.
"Thank you," the man added, almost as an afterthought.
"Well, you're welcome," Rikku replied, a bit sarcastically. She regretted the edge she had put in her words upon another glance at the man; he sure didn't look any better.
"What are you staring at, young lady?"
Young lady? Was she to be scolded as a child? She was all of fifteen—didn't he know? Of course, with those streaks in his hair, he probably had at least twice her years.
"How old are you, anyway?" Rikku asked.
"Twent—Thirty-five," he corrected hastily. Rikku's eyebrows rose.
"I don't obsess over it," he replied, dismissing his mistake. "It's just a number. It means nothing. Maturity comes with experience, not with the passage of time."
She clapped her hands together. "What a cool way to think about it!"
"You can't be old at all, but you are a guardian nonetheless. Your dedication to Yuna shows…something special."
She beamed. So she did meet his approval after all?
"Sometimes I forget to see you as the child you still are," he chuckled. Observing her pouting lips, Auron added, "But only sometimes."
Rikku was about to defend herself when she saw Auron's head was falling. "Hey!" She was against him in an instant. His face buried itself in her stomach.
Auron pulled away and began breathing a little hard. Rikku crouched down and stared, frightened, up into his suffering face.
"I can mix you up a potion—anything you want." She was already digging in her pockets among the tiny bottles of elixirs and ethers and antidotes. "You're not poisoned—?"
He dismissed her with a wave of one hand; the other was busy rubbing his right temple.
"I can't help…?"
Auron's smile was sad. "I know what the problem is, and no potion will cure it. There's nothing you can do, so don't worry about it, Rikku."
She was hesitant. This was, by far, the longest conversation she had ever shared with Auron. Now that they were talking, she didn't want to stop. But, at the same time, she was helpless because he was sick, and was hurt because he wouldn't let her try and help him.
"Thank you."
The gratitude was expressed almost silently, but it was enough to make Rikku smile again. She got up and sat next to Auron, who managed to smile a little himself.
"Auron…will you be okay?"
"Yes, of course." He looked surprised. "Once we get away from this place, I will be fine."
Rikku swung her legs up and down before glancing sideways at the Farplane gate. Inside there was—or there could be—oh, she didn't want to think about it…
"So, why do you avoid the Farplane?"
Did he have to ask that?
Rikku sighed. "I guess…I don't want to drag up old memories right now."
"Just now?"
"Maybe…maybe later. Maybe, after this is over, I'll be ready. 'Til then, I've gotta stay focused. I've gotta find a way to save Yunie."
"Yuna must continue her pilgrimage," he broke in, somewhat distantly.
"Who says?" Rikku wondered grumpily, crossing her arms.
Auron was silent. It annoyed her.
Rikku sprang to her feet. "Aw, what do you know? We'll save Yunie. She won't have to die—not like all the other summoners!"
Something somewhat cold wrapped around her wrist. She had to look to find out that it was Auron's hand.
He let go immediately and laughed under his breath. "You… don't give up that conviction, Rikku." He stood, wobbling a bit.
She grabbed him, trying to support the man, her hands taking hold of his muscular arms.
Auron steadied himself and she had no excuse to continue clutching him. "On the other hand…"
"Hmm?"
"On the other hand, if you keep acting so maturely, people will keep forgetting you are still a child. You will be forced to grow up."
"Aren't I already grown up?"
Again he laughed. "Almost. But take care: childhood, once lost, is irretrievable."
Rikku came back to herself all in a rush. How long she had been sitting there, staring at the piece of empty ledge beside her, she had not a clue.
Memories were so powerful. That's why she didn't like to let them out. They overtook her, paralyzed her. They could be almost…real. They stirred up the embers of feelings, flames she had tried to let die.
It had done her no good to fall in love with a man after he had left the world. But those memories of him had rekindled the flames that had been only whispers nine years ago. Worst yet, the imperfections of her interactions with Auron had been softened greatly with the passage of time.
True, they had spoken little and she had usually quarreled with him; he insisted Yuna continue her pilgrimage and Rikku wanted anything but. These times were greatly overshadowed, however, by every occasion where he had bestowed kindness upon her. When he had guarded her in battle, or had forgiven her for oversleeping—or that day when she twisted her knee and he carried her on his back to the next Travel Agency where a potion could be bought.
Rikku treasured these memories. She coveted them, and secretly. She at times fought, but, once in a while, dove willingly in and chose to partake in the past. Like just now.
Presently, the woman took one last look at the entrance to the Farplane. Auron had spent nine years in that place, but he wasn't there anymore. That meant he was somewhere else now. Somewhere out in Spira.
~
The young man frowned and turned away from the Commsphere. He had wanted to speak with Rikku and she wasn't on board.
"Oh, Gippal," she had so many times told him in annoyance, "if you have to get in touch with me, just call the Celsius! You know I'm always there!"
The woman then pulled herself from his arms and left his sight. Every single date they had seemed to end that same way.
It was frustrating, to say the very least; their on again, off again relationship. He liked her best of all the girls he took out, but that fact there were others in his life irked Rikku to no end.
"I can't go out with a player like you," she was fond of saying. "You'll break my heart."
Rikku's accusations were usually accompanied by her making a face—she pushed her tongue through her lips and squeezed her green Al-Bhed eyes tightly shut. "Nyeh!"
Was it his fault, now, that he was such a hot commodity? Did he insist that all the eligible women of Spira constantly throw themselves at him? He just had the cool looks and sweet-talking lips no sane female could resist.
"You could just tell them to get lost," Rikku would say each time he offered his nearly flawless explanation.
"You're jealous," he would tease, pinching one of her cheeks affectionately.
She was apt to stare at him disgustedly before pushing the offending hand away.
"How do you expect a girl to be serious about you if you're never serious about her! You insensitive—"
Gippal allowed his recollections to stop there. Rikku was capable of cursing worse than a sailor when she was angry enough.
Anyway.
Miss Serious was not around for him to inform her he had changed his mind about women—that he was ready for a bit of monogamy.
Well, he was almost tempted to change his mind right back.
Still…Gippal was approaching thirty and his attitudes toward life were changing. Nooj was married and Baralai was practically there, too; all he had to do was give Shelinda that ring he'd bought…
Gippal scowled. He knew Rikku was the one he wanted. He wanted to be serious with her, and only her. No other girl he knew could make him feel the way Rikku did. He could be cool and confident with anyone save her. The way he felt around her, the way his heart threatened to spill over—it made him defensive, on edge.
Was that frustrated, angsty, anxious feeling—could it be, rather—the illusive thing people were always talking about? Was it the subject of so many books and songs?
Was it…love?
Gippal felt cheated. Love was suffering, waiting, uncertainty. His heart was filled not with joy, but with fear.
And he wasn't too fond of being afraid. He might profess his love to Rikku and the worst she could ever do in return would be to refuse him. That worst, though, was pretty damn horrible.
Rejection was what he feared. The mounting feelings and desires were growing in power, though, and refused to be buried. The small—infinitesimal, even—possibility of rejection prevented Gippal's confession.
He was about ready to explode.
This was no good, no good at all. He couldn't explode. The only apparent escape from his current torture would be to tell Rikku how he felt. Nothing at all could happen otherwise.
Gippal emerged from his hut and was immediately assaulted by the scorching desert sun of Bikanel Island. He headed toward his craft, a small airship that he'd had built to facilitate his duties as leader of the Machine Faction.
"Off again, Gippal?" Nhadala wondered from her post nearby.
"Private business," shouted Gippal over the cry of the wind. He spat out the sand that had entered his mouth.
Nhadala put her hands on her hips. "Another girl in Luca? Or is it Kilika this time?"
"Nothing like that."
"Uh-huh…"
Gippal shrugged. She would never believe the truth, being all too familiar with his past behavior.
"You're in charge, Nhadala!" Gippal called, waving as he climbed aboard. He took the pilot's seat upon entering, and, within minutes, the Desert Rose was airborne.