One More Confessional

Part Two

197S9.8.45

Had a nice chat with Baralai. We're both morning people, so we were up long before the other two. I sat on a rock and watched the sun rise while he finished his devotions. Afterwards, we swapped life stories -- a heavily edited version, in my case, and I'm sure he held back plenty as well. He admitted to his unease about being part of a fighting force. Unease-- who am I kidding? The poor kid is petrified. Gippal has offered to teach him how to fire a gun, and I encouraged him to accept. Figures that such a devout Yevonite would have no idea how to use one. They're off together now, presumably taking their first lesson.

Baralai's a good guy, we're already well on the way to becoming friends -- turns out we have a lot in common, having both been raised in the temples -- but I really wonder what he's doing here. I have never met anyone who seems less like a military man. I'm doing my best not to let him see me thinking that, though. He must have his reasons for enlisting, and he's much more likely to stay alive if he has confidence in them, and himself.

In the meantime, I'll watch his back. He probably just needs some time to get used to his new circumstances; once he's more comfortable with his weapon, I think he'll be fine.

Not much going on today. After Bevelle, I should have known that they'd rush us out here just to make us sit around for awhile longer, but that doesn't make it any less irritating. With the boys gone shooting, it's just me and Nooj, and he's not much for small talk. Neither am I, but I wish he wouldn't just sit impassively in the distance, occasionally glancing at me, then looking away. Makes me nervous.

197S9.8.46

Huh. Baralai is a former summoner -- he told Gippal, and Gippal told me. Terrible gossip, that boy. I haven't really gotten a handle on him yet; nice enough, I suppose, but a big-time flirt, although so much not my style. Way too talkative and energetic. Give me the strong, silent type any day. Berrick was like that. I miss him, a little, sometimes. I wonder what he would make of all this?

But anyway, Lord Baralai. The thought amuses me for some reason; the few summoners I've met all seemed much tougher, although maybe he never went on a pilgrimage. That might explain it; temple life can leave you pretty soft (one of the many reasons I escaped it as soon as I could). But now I'm even more curious about what brought him here. He must be fallen, somehow.

Oh well, he'll tell me, or not. I'm the last person to go prying into other people's lives, into places where I'm not welcome. He knows he can talk to me if he likes.

I wonder what he would say if I called him by his proper title? Then again, maybe I shouldn't tease him too much today -- while he was off practicing, he accidentally shot one of the armory guys in the foot. An honest mistake for a beginner, but he's still completely mortified. It doesn't help that Nooj chewed him out afterwards for observing the Yevonite tradition of letting the younger members of the group follow orders first. I know things work differently in the Crusaders, but would it hurt Nooj to show a little respect?

What a group for the Maesters to put together -- a Yevonite, an uptight military regular, and an Al Bhed. And wherever I fit in, with knowledge of everything but belonging nowhere. It's almost like they want these guys to fight amongst themselves. I wonder if the other teams are this badly mismatched?

At least Gippal and Baralai seem to be getting along.

Another quiet day. It's almost as dull here as Luca in the off-season.

197S9.8.47

This could be trouble.

The boys were at target practice, and Nooj called me over for a chat. He asked me about my background again, and this time he actually let me finish talking. I gave him the relevant facts of my life -- orphaned by Sin at the age of four, raised in Kilika Temple, taught swordplay by the warrior monks stationed there, ran away to Luca and ended up a sphere recorder. I also mentioned that I know the basics of using a gun. He seemed impressed, and suggested that I start carrying a rifle, which he thinks that will be more practical and easier to come by than a sword. It's a good idea; I'll try to snag one from the armory tonight. Now I wish I had known how all this would shake out -- I would have brought my own pistol and left the blade at home.

It seemed only natural for me to ask about his past at that point. I wasn't really expecting him to talk, so I was stunned when he gave me an honest answer. He told me about some of his exploits with the Crusaders, the battle that cost him his limbs, the horrors of being rebuilt in machina, his struggles to learn how to walk and fight -- and live, really -- all over again. It was a moving tale, and I found myself reaching out to him. Without really thinking about it, I moved my right hand forward, which meant taking his left. The machina hand. He wears a glove on it, so I didn't even notice a difference at first, but when I threaded my fingers through his and squeezed, I felt the hard steel beneath. It was a shock, but not an unpleasant one. Then he buried his other hand in my hair, his touch warm and strong yet delicate at the same time, and though that was even more of a surprise, it was definitely not unpleasant, in any way.

The caress was brief; he pulled away with a quick apology, and I accepted it. But his eyes lingered on mine afterwards, just for a moment, and something flickered there. Probably just simple desire, but maybe-- I don't know. Not enough information to speculate, really.

He left me then, alone with my thoughts. This man seems difficult to get along with in so many ways; he is arrogant, and inflexible, and rude. Yet the fact is that I am drawn to him, and have been from the moment we were introduced. I'm not sure why. He's attractive, certainly, with those broad shoulders and that long hair falling into his face -- fayth, I sound like a star-struck little girl! -- but I think it's more than that. He's been through hell and survived. Maybe I see him as a kindred spirit.

But pursuing him would be a bad idea. Relationships in the ranks are always risky, especially with your commanding officer. I should probably just admit my attraction -- to myself, not him! -- and move on. I bet that's what he would do; I barely know him, but I can already tell he has an iron will. That one will never lose control.

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Nooj thinks that Gippal and Baralai are lovers. When they came back from shooting today, Gippal had a scratch on his cheek, and Nooj said something about Baralai playing rough. Hah! I find the very idea quite funny. Clearly, Gippal does, too -- I could see him holding back laughter. Baralai just looked confused. I thought about enlightening them both, but it's not really my place. If the boys want to keep their weapons training secret from Nooj, I respect that. And Baralai might keel over dead from mortification if I told him what Nooj meant by his comment.

In all seriousness, though, Nooj is not a particularly stellar judge of character, at least not of Baralai's, if he assumes that Baralai and Gippal are sneaking off into the bushes. I doubt that Baralai could unbend enough at this point to as much as touch a woman, much less have sex with a man.

Still, there's something in the way that Gippal looks at Baralai sometimes -- a sideways glance, a glint in his single eye. So not yet, but maybe soon enough.