Disclaimer – Yeah yeah. I don't own squareshit, or squeenix. If I did, this wouldn't be fan fiction. It would be what happens in the game. Except… I've never played the game. Beg pardon for anything ridiculously insipid I said. This was just an idea. Maybe I'll write more, possibly from Auron's view, maybe not. Depends on you folks.
There is nothing good about Yevonites, my Da always said. Nothing. The best thing you can give a Yevonite is a grenade, sans the pin, blow the bastards up. I don't know how much of that I believe. Maybe cause it's damned hypocritical, hating someone for not good reason, just because they hate you for no good reason.
…
You don't need to tell me that logic's flawed, I can read. But, good old Da was wrong about one thing: the Yevonites did invent something of value – Solitaire. Maybe you're familiar with that game. You take a deck of playing cards, you do know what cards are right? Good, cause other wise this would take for fricking /ever/ to get to the point. I do have a point, really. Just warming up to it. So – Solitaire. Everyone knows how to play the game. Put the red cards on black cards, and vice versa, and try to put all the cards in the right order, eventually. But, my favorite part of Solitaire is seeing how long I can go without flipping the first card in the deck over. It's stupid, and childish, but hey, no one can deny I'm anything else, you know? Stick to what you're best at. Me? I'm best at Solitaire, long pointless rambles, oh, and falling in love with crotchety old men, who happen to be dead. It would figure, in the great karmatic puzzle of life.
I suppose falling in love with Mr. Masamune Up My Ass was as inevitable as flipping over that first card in the game of Solitaire. Now, you know all the nitty gritty details about me, him, our so called relationship. Gods know that between the game and fan fiction writers, there's almost nothing left for me to tell. Almost. Cause if there wasn't anything left for me to tell, I'd be playing with my trusty old cards, instead of sitting here, writing to all you sillies out there. Don't worry, I still love you.
So to bring all you lovely readers up to date as to what's happening here: Yuna's being her good old butt kicking self. Yeah, she misses Sir Whines A Lot, but what can a girl do? Once you give up your heart, poof. It's gone. But we keep going anyway. Lulu and Wakka are doing… something. No one really wants to go near Lu anymore, morning sickness, hormonal imbalance, enough said. But outside of that, they seem pleased as punch. Pleased as punch, I haven't said that in so long. Not since, well, you can probably guess. But there's not enough time to go into a complete back story yet, or maybe there never will be enough time. Or maybe there is enough time, and I just want to go play cards. Me? I'm still the adorable, only occasionally molestable, blond kid I've always been.
But you don't really care about me, or Yunnie, or Lulu, or Wakka. You just want to know what really happened to the Legendary Pain in the Ass, Sir Auron. I don't know. I've been to the entrance of the Farplane once, maybe twice now, when Yunnie went to do whatever she does in there. I just can't go in. A lot of things are better left unsaid. This thing in particular. There are too many possibilities – I mean hell, do the sent even retain their memory once they leave goods old earth? I guess it doesn't matter if he remembers me or not. What about me would he remember? Don't delude yourself in believing that he's dwelling on the funky swirlies in my eyes, or my bright eyed and bushy tailed outlook on life. That's really… kinda dumb. I mean, jeeze, sure he wasn't the most chatterly man on Spira, but I'm not stupid, or blind. He would have said something, or done something, other than ignore me except when I said something. It was always, "Rikku, stop acting like a child." Or, "Rikku, you're slowing us down." Maybe I should be glad that he at least knew my name.
But I don't care. He probably doesn't care either, where ever he is. Who needs a man? I've got my card game.
