Ah, thanks for the reviews! You people are awesome. I'm not completely sure I am all that satisfied with this chapter though . . . but we'll see! Well, enjoy chapter 14.
000000000000
YUNA
I think for a second that my heart has actually stopped. Almost numb with shock, I slowly turn around and see my father standing there, and never have I seen him more furious. The white feathers are still floating around us, even though all activity has come to a complete halt, and the world feels utterly still.
"Father . . ." I whisper, my mouth alarmingly dry. "You're . . . you're home early." I can think of nothing else to say. It's as if my brain has shut down.
"What is the meaning of this?!" he thunders, storming further into the room and ignoring my lame statement. I take a step away from him and nearly back into Tidus' chest. "I demand an explanation!"
"I . . . we-"
"WELL?!"
"Sir," Tidus says calmly behind me. I turn around to stare up at him, seeing him swallow somewhat nervously. Still, I am relieved to see that he is keeping his face relaxed. "We were just leaving."
"You're damn right you are!" Father snarls, narrowing his eyes at Tidus. "Does your father know you're here, boy?"
Tidus blinks with surprise, puzzled by my father's question. It hits me then that Tidus has no idea our fathers know each other.
"Well, thanks for coming, guys!" I say quickly, forcing a shaky smile for the gang. I can feel my father's murderous glare burning holes in my back. "I'll see you guys on Monday at school." They all understand the emphatic look I am giving them, making it painfully clear that the sleepover is . . . well . . . over.
Meekly they all file past me, carefully avoiding my father. I never expected to see such a tough, confident group of people look so fearful because of one middle aged man. Then again, my father can be remarkably intimidating when he wants to be. As Tidus walks by, he leans towards me and quickly whispers,
"I had a total blast."
Somehow these simple words soothe me, and I feel the roots of strength growing inside. Tidus gives me a discreet wink and leaves the room last behind the gang.
For eternal seconds, my father and I wait until we hear the front door close. It takes a long time, and not once do Father's smouldering gaze leave my face. I try to stare back evenly, but I falter many times.
"Father, please listen to me," I say, speaking so fast my words are barely understandable. "I know it was wrong of me, I know I disobeyed you, but nothing happened! I'll replace the pillows myself, I promise. I'm sorry-"
Yuna," he says, cutting me off sharply. "What is it going to take with you? I have tried everything imaginable to make myself as clear as possible. Yet time and time again you disappoint me with your lack of care, your defiance!"
"No, father, it's not defiance! They are my friends, and-"
"Friends?" he snaps, interrupting me again. "Friends?! Yuna, they are ghetto scum! They are not worthy to be seen with you. Why associate with them when you are entirely capable of joining more honourable company?"
"They are honourable enough," I reply, struggling to keep my voice under control. "I am not ashamed to be with them. They are the only people I have any interest in."
"Don't be ridiculous, what about that Guado boy, Seymour? He's a suitable young man. A tie with him could make you very powerful," my father tells me in a matter-of-fact tone.
"I don't care. He's a rude, disrespectful person and I would rather spend time with diseased prostitutes than him!" I tell him, forgetting to select my words carefully.
"What sort of filth have those hooligans been poisoning you with?" he demands, outraged. "I will not stand here and allow you to spew such slanderous insults about our friends, the Guados!"
"And I will not stand here and let you speak so wrongly of my friends. If you got to know them you wouldn't be acting so foolish and bigoted!" I retort, wanting more than anything to fly at this infuriating man and slap him senseless.
"How dare you talk to me that way!" he growls, his eyes blazing. I nearly flinch with fear at his expression, but thankfully my face remains hard. "That's it. You are not to hang about those thugs ever again! I am going to have Auron check in on you during the day at school, every day! If I hear of you walking around in their company, I will pull you out of public school and have you home schooled."
"You can't do that!" I gasp in protest, my eyes widening. "Auron will never agree to do it!"
"He will if I threaten to fire him for allowing you to have all those ruffians in my house," Father says in a dangerous tone.
"That's . . . that's not fair! I-I made him promise, he was just being loyal to me! Father, he's your oldest friend, please don't punish him for this," I plead, my voice cracking slightly.
"I am afraid it is the price you both must pay. I would rather have my best friend fired than see my daughter in the midst of violent street trash-"
"Oh Braska, stop it!" I cry, stamping my foot in anger. "Just stop it! Shut up, for once!"
He is stunned into silence. I have never called him by any other name than Father before.
Rage pulses through me. I have felt rage before, yes, but never with such force. Never have I felt a greater desire to hurt my father than I do now. It takes every ounce of strength in my body to keep myself rooted to the spot.
At last he opens his mouth to speak, but I speak first.
"No," I say harshly, holding my hand up. "No, you listen to me. I have spent my whole life trying to please you. I have never questioned you or fought you. I have never disobeyed you or dishonoured you in anyway; all that, until now. Yes, it was wrong of me to go behind your back, and I'm sorry. But I am sick and tired of trying to please you, only to have you say it's not good enough. I am sick and tired of having to stare at your back and beg for forgiveness when . . . when you don't even listen to me, or act like I'm there!"
At this point my voice cracks again, and I feel hot tears burn my eyes. I don't even care if I start crying like a child now.
"But now . . . now that I am actually happy, you can't stand it! It-it's like you are trying even harder to make me miserable. All I want is to be friends with them! That's all I want. I care about them, and they care about me too. W-why is that so hard for you to accept? Why am I such a-a failure to you? Can't you just be glad that I-I have friends now?" I lower my voice slightly, feeling the tears slide down my cheeks.
Again he opens his mouth to say something, his face a mask of astonishment, but I feel another surge of anger.
"QUIET!" I scream, my own voice startling me. "I am not finished talking! I won't be bullied anymore, Braska, I won't stand another second of it. You can try to punish me all you want, and you can threaten to fire Auron if you are cruel and vicious enough to stoop so low, but understand this: I will not cave in to you. I am not some spineless little child! I am my own person, and nobody is going to tell me what to do. Not you, not anybody!"
There is a deathly silence in the room, almost unbearably tense. I feel slightly winded by my angry speech, but I mean every word of it. I am not his prisoner anymore.
"What . . . are you going to do?" he asks me. I can still hear a hard edge to his voice, but he is fighting to keep it at bay.
"Anything I want," I reply coldly.
"Yuna, you're welfare has always been my number one priority-"
"Give it a rest, Braska," I snap, looking away from him. "You were never like a father to me. Auron loved and respected me more than you ever did."
I am mildly surprised to see him wince, as if I had slapped him. For a moment I contemplate taking back that last comment, but I stubbornly hold my tongue. For the first time in my life I feel in control. I feel equal, if not superior to him.
"You couldn't even look at me," I tell him, my voice deceitfully calm. "You couldn't even look your own daughter in the eye, when I wanted you to so badly. I-I wanted you to see me as your little girl, not some burden that killed your wife. Why? Why couldn't you do that for me, just once?"
He swallows heavily and tears his eyes away from me, sighing shakily. But he does not say anything. He only stands there, staring down at the floor, hands limp at his sides. Some of his brown hair falls over his forehead, shadowing his eyes. Never has my father looked so old as he does now . . . so fragile.
I sniff slightly and wipe my eyes dry. Putting the steel back in my voice, I break the horrible quiet between us.
"Good night, Braska," I say smoothly, brushing past him. It is obvious we are to do no more talking for now. I pause at the doorway of the living room and turn around. He is still standing there, motionless, his back to me. And then I am gone, marching as fast as I can, desperate to lock myself in my room for as long as time will allow.
0000000000
I lie awake and stare at the canopy over my bed. The clock in my room says it is almost midnight, but I don't feel one bit sleepy. All I can think about is the words I said to my father, those awfully thrilling words. Part of me feels free, liberated . . . and the other part is wracked with guilt. I should be more grateful to my father. I shouldn't have been so horrible to him, after I disobeyed him like that.
Still, I cannot lie. I am not sorry that I invited Tidus and his gang over, at least not anymore. I had more fun tonight than any other night in my life, and I owe it all to them. My face tingles with a deep blush as I remember swimming in the pool, when Tidus had his arms around me, those wonderfully teasing things he said to me.
(Have I stolen your breath as well as your heart, my lady?)
I cannot help but smile in the darkness. Yes, Tidus, you have stolen my heart and my breath. I know that now. Maybe I've always known . . .
It cannot be love, but it feels stronger than some silly crush. I can't decide what it really is, but I don't think I truly care anymore. I am going to stop analyzing this feeling. All that matters is that it's there, and it feels great. I feel great whenever I'm with him.
The house is so quiet, so deathly still. I've always wondered what the mansion reminded me of, and now it comes to me. It reminds me of a corpse, a stiff, cold, silent corpse. I shudder and pull the blankets tighter around me as if warding off a draft of wind.
It is quite obvious that I am not going to get any sleep tonight, at least not for a long time. With a heavy sigh a throw my covers back and stand up, moving noiselessly from the bed.
After a while of aimless pacing, I head out onto the balcony, dressed only in my white nightgown. I love the view from here . . . the city lights look so beautiful and distant, like faraway candles. One thing I really like about living here is that it never snows. Every night is as blissfully hot as the middle of summer, and even the rain is warm. It is strangely comforting to know that in the heart of the city, Tidus and his gang are sleeping peacefully. Well, perhaps they're out at a party or club, or maybe they are downtown causing trouble. I smile at the thought. I really shouldn't support such behaviour, but I cannot help it!
Oh, how I envy them and their simple freedom. I was born with every worldly possession anyone could possibly desire, yet the one thing I want most is to be rid of it!
I shake my head at myself. Who am I kidding? I am far too pampered to live by any other means than the one I am so accustomed to. Still, it would be a nice change to get out and live in the real world, just for a while at least.
And quite suddenly, an idea hits me. It comes to me so quickly I almost feel breathless. It is a stupid, impulsive, ridiculous, irresponsible decision, but I know that no particle of my body is going to resist it, no matter how much trouble I get into.
I whirl around and hurry back into my room, my heart pounding excitedly. My hands tremble slightly as I pick up the phone and begin dialling a familiar number. When I realize that I am habitually calling Tidus, I quickly stop and hang up the receiver. I can't ask to stay with him, it wouldn't be proper! I frown slightly, biting my lip in thought. Then I remember Rikku's number, and excitedly start punching the numbers.
"Hello?" a thickly-accented male voice answers. I waver momentarily.
"Yes, hello . . . I'm sorry to call so late, but it's urgent. Is-is Rikku there?" I ask almost timidly.
"Wait one moment," the voice says, sounding bored. I sit on the edge of my bed, tapping my foot impatiently on the hardwood floor.
"Yeah?" says a girlish voice. I instantly recognize Rikku.
"Rikku, it's Yuna. I'm fine, thank you. Yes . . . yes, I'm sure," I lie, dodging the question she asks about my confrontation with my father. "Listen, I need a big favour. Would I be able to stay at your place for a while? No, no, I'm all right, I just . . . need to get out of here, just for a few days or something. Really? Thank you! Yes, I'm on my way now. I'll see you soon. Thank you so much!"
She gives me quick directions to her house, and then I hang up. I jump to my feet and head to my closet and pulling out an armload of clothes. I dump them on my bed and then pull out my suitcase from under the bed. It is covered in a thin layer of dust, not surprisingly.
I pack quickly and messily, not bothering to fold my clothes in any organized fashion. After hesitating, I decide to bring along some of my more 'scandalous' clothes that I have yet to wear outside of my room. Perhaps I would gain the courage to actually put them on if I got away from the prudish, conservative atmosphere of the mansion.
After quickly placing my hairbrush, toothbrush, toothpaste and a small makeup bag in the suitcase, I shut the lid and hurriedly get dressed. I then scribble a note:
'Auron- I have gone to stay with a friend for a little while. I will not be gone long, this is just something I need to do. Tell Braska that this is not his fault, and give my love to Belgemine. I will come home soon, I promise! Don't worry about me, I know what I am doing.
All my love, Yuna.'
I put the pen down and place the note on my pillow, where Auron will be sure to find it in the morning.
000000000000
I stop my silver Porsche just one block away from Rikku's house under a streetlamp. Luckily I managed to sneak out of the mansion without making any noise, and of course my beautiful car purrs as softly as a kitten. I am confident that I did not wake anyone up.
The street is grey and grimy in the dark of night, and somewhere nearby I can here two women shouting at each other, using language I know they did not learn in any temple. I stare down at my car, wondering whether or not I should leave it here. Even though I have the doors locked, I am smart enough to know that such a small hindrance was nothing to a robber.
Again I come up with another snap decision. A man is walking past me, his hands shoved into his deep pockets, head bowed and shoulders hunched. There is a cigarette perched between his chapped lips, and his round face is in desperate need of a shave.
"Excuse me," I say, clearing my throat. He stops and glances up at me, blinking with surprise. I hold my keys up so that he can see them clearly in the light provided by the streetlamp overhead.
"What do you want?" he asks gruffly. I waggle the keys invitingly.
"You interested in owning your very own Porsche?" I ask, trying to sound as casual as possible. Where I found the strength to give up my baby, I doubt I'll ever know, but it is oddly invigorating. Somehow I know I will not regret this. The man blinks again at me, looking like a bewildered owl.
"Eh?" he croaks.
"My Porsche. It's yours if you give me whatever gil you have on you," I say sweetly, passing the keys from hand to hand the way I always see Wakka handling a knife.
"Are you sayin' you'll give me your fancy car for . . ." he pauses to rummage through his pocket. ". . . thirty two gil?"
Without flinching, I smile and nod. He stares at me suspiciously.
"You're crazy, kid," he tells me, shaking his head. I raise an eyebrow and toss the keys at him, still smiling.
"Maybe I am," I reply mysteriously. He pulls the gil out and approaches the Porsche as if he were walking towards a ticking time bomb, the keys hanging loosely from his chubby fingers. Hesitantly he reaches across the hood of the car and hands me the gil, which I accept readily. Amazingly, my hands aren't shaking throughout this whole transaction. Instead I feel the rush of excitement at my own bold stupidity.
"I can't thank you enough, you insane little girl," he says to me with a sort of reverence. I only shrug and pick up my suitcase.
"Do what you want with it," I say carelessly. "It's yours now."
He starts cackling then, overjoyed at this unexpected fortune. I can see the greed flashing in his eyes, but also a look of pure disbelief and gratitude. I watch from the sidewalk as he climbs into the driver's seat, and without wasting a second he starts the car and vrooms off down the otherwise completely empty street.
I cannot help but imagine the look on the gang's faces when they find out what I just did. I'm starting to believe they love that car more than I did. It does not sit well with me to picture my father's reaction.
I reach Rikku's duplex minutes later. It is located in the middle of a small, garbage-ridden dirt lot surrounded by a waist-high chain-link fence. There is rusty junk scattered all around the yard, and I can already smell the pungent odour of cat urine that Rikku warned me about.
Softly, I knock on the old wooden door of her side of the building and wait almost breathlessly.
When the door finally creakily opens, I am surprised to see Tidus standing there, grinning at me delightedly.