*****Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The chapter title is from the song by Carly Simon, "Do the Walls Come Down", the lyrics are, "Do the walls come down when you think of me, do your eyes grow dim, do the walls come down when you think of me, do you let me in?"******
The nights they crossed Bikanel Island, bits and pieces of his life in Zanarkand floated through Auron's mind.
…
The day he had brought Mercy to meet Tidus. She had been so nervous, wondering what to say to the boy, never realizing that the problem was getting the kid to shut up. Although he certainly had when Auron had introduced them. The boy's expression had been priceless, even if it had resembled a gaping fish.
Tidus had emerged from his room and his jaw had dropped in shock. The old man, with a woman! What was going on? Who would have thought…? When had the world come to an end? Hey, what is he doing without that collar? As he came even closer to the couple, he received a further surprise. Good grief, they're even holding hands. The world is coming to an end.
"Boy, I'd like you to meet someone. Mercy, this is Tidus. Tidus, Mercy." She held out her hand for the boy to shake. He nervously wiped his palm on his pants and held it out to her. She shook it once, gravely, and let it go. They stared at each other for a minute.
He's a cute kid, she thought. He would break some hearts when he got a little older. She bet he would say he was 12 going on 13, if he was asked. They looked almost eye-to-eye now, but that wouldn't last. He was almost blond, blue-eyed, with a heart-shaped face.
Tidus thought she was really pretty, and he was amazed. What was she doing with Auron? What could she possibly see in him? And he seems different somehow. For one thing, he was smiling, like, all the time.
Auron remembered that the two had taken to each other, in a strange sort of way. Mercy had simply treated the boy as a small, rather impertinent, adult, listening to what he said, taking all of his questions seriously, and answering them equally seriously, including repeating the answer, "That's none of your business," as many times as it took to get the message into the kid's thick head. She was probably the first adult to really listen to him, and the boy had loved her for it, Auron knew.
She had finally unlocked the key that got the kid to practice regularly. It had nothing to do with the game, and everything to do with getting out of his aunt and uncle's house. She had asked Tidus if he liked living with them. He said it was, "Okay," and then volunteered that he wanted to move out as soon as he turned sixteen. Mercy had explained that at sixteen he couldn't just move out on his own, he needed to prove to the courts that he was capable of running his own life, and if he intended to do it by playing Blitzball, he would have to actually be on a team, not just want to be. Once she proved to Tidus that she had been through the whole court thing herself, he accepted that she knew what she was talking about. The boy started practicing seriously the next week.
The kid had begged to see her sing, so, eventually; he had given in, just to shut him up. Auron remembered it had been like watching himself in a mirror. Mercy had gone onstage, and started to sing, and the boy had fallen in love with her, just as he had done. The difference was that the kid had taken this impossible feeling and folded it up as tight as he could and hidden it away inside, and hoped that no one would ever notice it was there. Mercy had always been aware of it, but she never talked about it, and it was the one thing that neither of them had ever teased the boy about.
…
He decided that it might be better to blend in a little more for the rest of the time he spent in Zanarkand. He had also suspected that Mercy might prefer it if he did. She had promised to make the experience of buying clothing as painless as possible. A half hour, no more. She hadn't lied, either. There had been a couple of minutes to spare. The black trousers, long-sleeved black shirts, and black boots were somber enough to stand out among the much brighter attire of most of Zanarkand's citizens, but, like his glasses, he felt comfortable while he seemed to blend in enough that people could ignore him if they chose.
They had carried all his purchases to Mercy's apartment. He somehow never managed to transport them to his own. After a few weeks, it hadn't mattered.
Watching Tidus do his gaping fish imitation again had been worth the price of the clothing.
…
He had asked her to come to his dojo, on a night when he didn't have any classes, to test her skills in the martial arts, especially with her swords. Even in memory, he could still see her 'dance' with the swords, a deadly whirlwind. He had been impressed with her expertise, especially after he ordered her to fight him unarmed, and gotten thrown a few times for his trouble. He had been over-confident, and had misjudged the differences in their tactics. Her style was based on speed and agility, strike and elude, his on strength, capture and strike. He saw that if they fought together, against an opponent, they would make a powerful team, her quickness combined with his strength.
After combat, even pretend combat, they had both had only one idea. He had grabbed her by the waist and thrown her over his shoulder, carried her up the stairs, to his apartment, both of them laughing. He had tumbled her onto the bed, and half-fallen on top of her. Something under the bed had groaned in protest, causing them both to laugh even harder. He could still remember the sound of her laughter that night, the taste of it as they made love in the bed, which continued to creak ominously, making them both laugh even more.
In his memories, he couldn't think of a day they hadn't laughed together, or a night they hadn't made love. He knew there must have been, he just couldn't remember them.
He also remembered they had replaced that bed three times in those five years.
…
The first Saturday afternoon she came to his dojo to work out in the afternoon, she was in the back, warming up, when he started teaching one of his least favorite classes, one of the large classes with children. This one had three little girls in it, all six years old, being sent because it was convenient for their parents, because they either had seven or eight year old brothers in the same class. This time, the three little girls spotted Mercy in her corner, warming up, and stopped paying attention to him. They looked at each other, nodded, and turned to watch the 'lady', gradually drifting over to where they were observing her closely without actually getting in her way. Auron saw they weren't truly disturbing Mercy, and decided to just let her deal with the situation. He had enough problems at that moment, sixteen other students, to be precise. By the end of the class, she was working with the little girls on the beginning of the basics. At least, she didn't scare them. Instead, they scared her. They promised to bring some of their friends back with them the following week. They did, too, he remembered. She taught some of the beginners' classes with him after that. And occasionally some of the other classes as well. She hadn't had much more patience than he did, but she had been better at hiding the fact.
He'd loved watching her.
…
Sometimes he had been able to see the sadness in her eyes. She could see the cloud wrapped around the silver lining. The irony that in some ways, the triumph was caused by the tragedy looming ahead. His presence in her life had brought the knowledge which caused her to take chances that changed things, especially her music. It cast a shadow over that first 'paid' concert, but it had still been wonderful. She had talked her brother into singing a solo, he remembered, and he had been surprised at how beautiful it had been. They had woven a spell together, singing the music they loved best, about love, and the pain of the loss of it, about hope, and joy, about sex, in love and out, and always, about dreams, lost, and found. It hadn't been perfect, since it was a live performance, but they were very, very good. They had practiced more than 20 years for that night, and they had earned the applause when it was done. Auron had just wished he could take away the sadness, the bitterness behind her joy. He remembered calling to that voice he had heard, or maybe praying, "Please let her reach the Farplane, please." But still, no one answered.
…
Mercy had told him that if the world was going to end in five years, then she wasn't going to bother doing anything that she didn't either love doing, or didn't make life easier. And since she no longer had to worry about "rainy day" funds, or retirement funds, money wasn't a major issue, within reason. She couldn't quit work, but she was no longer interested in a promotion, so no more late night meetings, or weekend projects. It would take about a month to get out of the schedule, but no more Thursday nights, either. She would do what was necessary to keep her position, but nothing more. At the time, his thought had been that he only cared if it made her happy.
…
One night, more than a month after they met, they happened to walk home past the coffeehouse where Auron first heard her sing. There was music coming from the club, but it was not the same. He looked around, and said, "My life is so different." He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. "I feel different. That night, I was cursing myself for a fool, just for being here, in Zanarkand."
She laughed a little, but she could tell, he didn't get the joke. "Love, didn't you know? We're all fools. It's part of the human condition." Damn, he could be so exasperating. She sighed. "You can be so arrogant, sometimes. Maybe, if you'd figured that out a little sooner, we would have met earlier."
Auron remembered the voice whispering in his ear that night, what had it said? "I have been waiting a long time for you to say those words..."
He was quiet the rest of the way home, thinking. What if Mercy was right? What if his arrogance, his pride, had stood in the way all along? Did he waste five years? Then he truly was a fool. That night, lying awake, with Mercy sleeping close against his side, in the deepest recesses of his mind, he formed the words, as clearly as he could, "Please let her reach the Farplane, I beg you, please." This time, there was an answer. He fell into a deep and instant sleep, and found himself in a cavern, facing a masked swordsman with a dog. Yojimbo, he thought, no wonder the voice seemed familiar.
"Guardian, you have passed the trial. The test of humility. What boon would you beg of Yojimbo", asked the fayth.
"I beg you, let Mercy reach the Farplane"
"Your Lady will reach the Farplane, Guardian, if everyone plays their parts", and with that mysterious answer, the dream ended, and the fayth was gone.
…Spira
Tidus thought he caught Auron looking at him several times as they crossed the desert, almost as though the old man finally wanted to talk. Too late now, the blitzer thought bitterly. I tried to get him to talk, at just about every inn and travel agency between Luca and Macalania, and he turned me down every time. And if what's eating him is what I think it is, right now, I know just how he feels.
End Chapter eight