One More Confessional
Part Sixteen
197S9.9.23
One of the priests in the Maesters' entourage is missing. I wonder which one of them did it? Nooj, probably, although I wouldn't put it past Gippal, either, if he had the opportunity. Baralai -- well, maybe. If he were sufficiently provoked. A week ago I would have said no, but he's so upset about the condition of the other candidates, and I know he blames the Maesters and their underlings. However it happened, I won't shed any tears for the man. It's not a fair trade for the seven bodies buried within the sands of Bikanel and the broken spirits that haunt them, but it's a start.
Whether he took vengeance last night or not, Nooj is in an amazingly good mood today. I got up early to stand at the rail and watch the sunrise this morning. I'd been there for some time when Nooj came up behind me, placing an arm on either side of me and nestling against my back, his right hand running up and down my arm. Then, without warning, he leaned down and licked my left shoulder! I laughed, completely involuntarily, and then could not resist turning around to kiss him, not caring who saw, tasting the salt on his lips. The encounter was undeniably pleasant, but it was so unlike what I have known of him so far. It was -- and I never thought I would use this word to describe Nooj, but it's really the only thing to say -- adorable.
Yesterday evening was so enjoyable. The four of us hung out on the deck, chattering about all manner of things. Even Nooj joined in the conversation from time to time. Gippal -- who finally demanded his chance to run the sphere camera; about time. He said it's because he doesn't want to be filmed in the silly dress uniform he's wearing while his clothes dry, but he's been eyeing it since the day we met. I'll be lucky if he didn't take it apart -- anyway, he told us all about an airship that the Al Bhed discovered recently and are restoring to working condition. At first I accused him of playing the game of lies again, but he assured me that it's true. How exciting! If I feel this free riding around on the ocean, I can only imagine how glorious it would be to fly above it. Just thinking about it gives me chills. I bet I could learn how to pilot an airship. How hard can it be?
That lead to the question of what everyone else would do if we all flew an airship together. Gippal claimed the engineer role, of course, and then Baralai decided he would navigate -- also sensible, given his experience at reading the stars. Then we all turned to Nooj, who just shook his head and refused to play along. The answer was clear, though, and we all knew it. I couldn't resist laying a hand on his arm and proclaiming him captain.
I don't know if the guys caught my tone, but Nooj certainly did -- I could see him remembering the last time I'd called him that.
Anyway, Gippal and Baralai agreed enthusiastically, promising that all he would have to do is stand around and look important. He rolled his eyes and warned us that he'd work us to the bone. We all laughed, mostly because we know the truth of that, too, and the conversation moved on.
Or at least their conversation moved on. Not ten minutes later, Nooj was leading me to a secluded area at the stern of the ship, where he proceeded to remind me exactly who my captain is. This particular game was invented the night I started replying to all his requests with the words "aye, captain"; it drove both of us wild. There's something so appealing about letting him take charge and being carried away by his passion.
It doesn't always work that way, of course. Sometimes I get to be captain. Secretly, I think he likes that even better.
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There's a serious rumor running wild on the ship. Supposedly, the Crusaders are joining forces with the Al Bhed in an attempt to wipe out Sin with some bad-ass new machina. I really don't know what to think. Clearly, the fact that we all relied on guns throughout this exercise means that Yevon is loosening its stance on machina weapons. But I can't help but be suspicious. Not that I'm ever not suspicious of Yevon, but there's something especially fishy this time. Why now? Is it coincidence that, at the exact same time, they're supposedly training an elite gun-using force to take over command of the Crusaders? Not that this force is the elite of anything, except maybe for the four of us. But still.
Well, I never pretended to be a tactician. I follow orders, and I observe. My observations are telling me to be wary of this one, but I suppose we'll have to wait and--
Why is Gippal climbing up to the crows' nest while still wearing that ridiculous uniform, one of the Maesters' underlings yelling at him from the deck? Why is Baralai watching from a safe distance and laughing his head off? And why don't I have my camera here to record the whole thing? Damn. That was definitely a scene for posterity, and I missed it!
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Another night on the deck. I'm going to miss this so much. Even if we do manage to stick together, it'll never be quite the same.
But we are sticking together. Gippal and Baralai and I just made some decisions about the future. Our future. From our conversation over plant processing yesterday, I knew that Baralai dreams about keeping the team together just as much as I do, but I hadn't realized that Gippal's been thinking along the same lines -- he told me so when I brought up the idea. All three of us agree that we've captured something really special here, and we don't want to see it end. So we made a pact: the members of Squad Five will flat-out refuse to serve under anyone under than Nooj.
I raised my concern about officially being a recorder rather than a candidate, but the guys scoffed at that. Baralai pointed out that the Maesters are in awe of Nooj and unlikely to refuse him much. If he requests me as a soldier in his company, he'll get me. Convincing Nooj to go along might be a problem, though; he's such a military man, so conditioned to obey his superiors without question whether he likes their orders or not. Gippal asked, and I had to admit that Nooj and I have yet to discuss the possibility of trying to stay together when this is done. They looked at me with a mixture of surprise and pity. That hurt a little.
Still, I'm hopeful. Assuming we do get Nooj on board, I don't see how the Crusaders can stand against the combined wills of the four of us. We're a pretty stubborn bunch. Surviving the desert proved that.
Then we got to talking about the rumors, of course. Nooj appeared shortly thereafter, just after the sun had set, and I pulled out the camera again. I don't know why; premature nostalgia, maybe? The discussion was mostly Gippal arguing with Baralai. Naturally, the Al Bhed thinks it's a great idea and the Yevonite seems horrified. I did my best to be noncommittal, and Nooj said little. Then the conversation turned to the prospect of Sin's permanent defeat, if the plan works. The Calm -- I remember what that was like, a little. But my parents were long dead by the time it came. Too late for them. Too late for me. Anyway, the boys were joking about making big plans when Nooj interrupted, saying that he doubted that Spira without Sin could be anything other than dull.
Gippal and Baralai both laughed, clearly amused by the idea of a Deathseeker, presumably in pursuit of his own eternal peace, who thinks the Calm sounds boring. I think I know what he meant, though. There won't be too many opportunities for a glorious death in battle during an Eternal Calm. He'll want to be gone before that day comes. I put away the camera and tried to catch his eye, to show him that I understand whether I like it or not, but he wouldn't meet my gaze. He still shies away from this particular topic. That's still mostly a relief, because I know that asking wouldn't get me the answer I want. But it does hang over me, a sword waiting to fall and split me in two. Maybe it would be better to get the truth out in the open.
He may love me, or not. There's something there; it's clear, now, that I'm more than just a warm body to him. But love? I don't know. I can read him in so many other ways, but the door to his heart remains closed to me. I doubt that it really matters, though. Whatever he may feel for me, he still loves the idea of his death more. I don't think there's anything I can do to change that.
There were too many things I wanted to say, so it was easiest to simply say nothing. Instead, I joined him at the rail, and we stared out to sea together.