A/N: Wow, I didn't expect to receive so much reviews for this story. I just want to thank all my reviewers, both members and anonymous, and also to those that take the time to read this story. It means so much to me. Thank you! :D
A week had gone by since she first boarded the Phantom Train. During that week, she only slept three hours per day. She was certain that her face attained all the exhaustion that was too horrific for human eyes. Her features were contorted with miserable vexation and her eyes were surrounded by purple flesh that resembled fresh bruises. To the very least, her hair still maintained its silky softness.
She watched her assistant carry out his two hundredth push-up. His body was drenched in sweat. It trailed down his forehead like rain. His rheumy eyes were too reluctant to meet her icy glare. His face was begging for mercy, yet he appeared too frightened to convert this into words.
After the day Lightning discovered Zest and his assistant in the train station, she drove down to Firion's house. Despite his family's protest, Lightning forced the man to march to the barracks in his pyjamas and train the whole day without food. Firion's sister, Maria or whatever her name was, threatened to sue Lightning over this humiliation, but Firion had hushed her.
From that day on, Firion endured harsh exercise with little or no food every day. His body trembled with fatigue but his determination (or fear, Lightning could not really tell) prevented him from backing away.
He then fell flat on his chest, his breath rushing out heavily from his chest. His eyebrows strained against his forehead. His face was to one side, expressing fatigue and pain.
Lightning stamped a foot on the ground.
"Get up!" She insisted, her tone authoritative with furore.
"Captain Farron," Firion wheezed, attempting to slide back onto his elbows with poor effort, "P-please…"
His imploring caught her off guard. This was the first time that Firion begged for a break. Her mouth curled into a dismal grimace. She hated people who gave up so easily. The human mind, according to her, sustained the mental capacity to never give up.
"How dare you?" She spat at him, and he flinched, despite having his eyes closed, "What kind of soldier are you, Rag-head? Your enemies could easily take advantage of your weakness! Get up now!"
"But Lightning," Firion started, his head lifting slightly to finally meet her irked gaze, "Just ten minutes, please?"
His subservient tone did nothing to enlighten her. She wasn't one to pity others. In fact, she lost all respect for him. Worst of all, he became bold enough to call her by first name. Growling, Lightning marched towards her assistant, picked him up by the shoulder. Her fingers curled into her palm. Her arm swung crazily, knocking against the side of his face. The impact sent Firion reeling to the floor.
He curled up into a ball, a desperate sob escaped his mouth. The sight of him made her stomach churn with discomfort. For a split second, she berated herself for being harsh on him. She was staunch in her training, so she thought everyone else was just as strong. In her attempt to triumph over the Warriror of Light, she had forgotten that Firion was still a trainee.
However, she didn't wish to display sympathy towards her assistant. She was afraid that he'd take her pity for granted and repeat this situation every time he wanted to rest. She had to remain steadfast and force the young man to get back to training.
"Please? Please? Is that all you can, say?" She condemned him, "Maybe I should kick you out of the army. How's that for an idea?"
At the mention of the getting expelled from the army, Firion jumped back into position. Despite the tremor of his muscles, he resumed languid push-ups, each movement more agonizing than before. His lips quivered with pain and fear.
Lightning pulled over a chair, plopping herself against it with one leg crossed over the other. She surveyed him like a hawk watching their prey. Firion was almost in tears. His body screamed for rest, as told by the weight of his push-ups, yet he made no more complaints.
Then, he fell back to the ground, eyes closed. Lightning got off her chair, suddenly apprehensive. She clicked her fingers to get his attention but he made no response. The beat of her heart increased in speed, until the only sound she heard was its drumming.
"Rag-head, what did I say about giving up?" She said, though not as harshly as earlier.
Still, Firion made no response so she rushed to his side, kneeling down and patting him gently on the shoulder.
"Firion!" She cried, realisation of her actions dawned on her like the light at the end of a tunnel.
"Is something going on?"
She snapped around to face Zest, walking back to the training centre with Cecil by his side. They were holding cups of hot drinks in their hands. She noticed that Cecil appeared fresh, despite his anaemic features. Unlike Firion, Cecil had no sagging skin under his eyes, no restive muscles.
Zest's eyes widened at the sight of Firion. He pushed his hot drink into Cecil's free hand and skittered to Firion's other side, opposite Lightning. He checked for Firion's pulse, and Lightning just sat there, frozen.
How could she have been so careless with Firion's health? She had wrapped herself in a cobweb that forced her to compete, and nothing more. Reality was pushed back into her, and she glared at Zest.
"I can handle this!" She barked at him, but he made no intention to leave them.
His grey eyes were focused solely on Firion's comatose state. He turned the young man's body around, and began pressing his palms over Firion's heart.
"You have handled enough, Captain Farron," He told her, and his calm, nonchalant tone fused a spark within her brain.
Firion was not responding to his efforts of resuscitation. He was unconscious. It dawned on Lightning that he was Yuna's best friend. The blanket of dread weighed on her shoulders. The world around her faded to blue and black. Yuna would never forgive her for this.
She would lose her childhood friend, all because of her own recklessness.
"Did you hurt him?" Zest asked, touching the blue, gaunt area on Firon's cheek.
"I…This isn't working!" She hissed at Zest, who still maintained his cool composure.
"Captain Light and Captain Farron!" Cecil cried, sprinting to where they were.
A team of medics were behind him. Without further ado, Lightning aided the paramedics on lifting Firion's tall and heavy body onto the stretcher. They were gone before her sight. She stood rooted to her spot, watching Firion's body grow smaller in her perspective before she could see him no more.
"That was quick thinking, Cecil," Zest praised his assistant, a hand on the anaemic man's shoulder, "I commend you for your tremendous effort."
Lightning's ears perked at his words. She never praised Firion for completing his training. Heck, she was nothing but a sour bitch towards him.
"I've been so blind," She gasped, eyes widening with astonishment, "I pushed him too hard."
Zest laid a hand on her shoulder, and she stared at him, mesmerized. "Do not belittle yourself, Captain Farron."
"Don't encourage her any further," A deep low voice resounded close by.
Sephiroth was striding towards her, his long, silver hair flailing behind him like impossibly long swords. His arms were behind his back, surrounding him in an authoritative aura. His cat eyes were mere slits. She couldn't decipher what was going through the General's head. He was mysterious as he was insidious.
"General," The three soldiers greeted Sephiroth with a congruous salute.
"Cecil," Sephiroth started, "That salute is proper. It seems that Captain Light has been teaching you well."
"I am fortuitous to have Captain Light as my tutor," Cecil said.
Sephiroth's thin lips curved into a malicious grin. A nerve twitched in Lightning's forehead. She knew which route this conversation was heading towards.
"I have seen everything that has happened," He drawled indolently, his gaze burning into Lightning's face, "And I must say that I am very disappointed in you Captain Farron."
"Sir?" She perked a supercilious brow. Sephiroth enjoyed toying with people's minds before spitting out the truth.
"This is why they say that women should not join the army," Sephiroth sighed dramatically, shaking his tremendous mane of hair, "Your kind becomes too emotional, and emotions are not suited for a soldier."
Lightning's fists shook by her side. "Then what do you propose happens after this?" She rasped, her every nerve seething with ire.
"Well, let us see, shall we?" Sephiroth chuckled darkly, "If you were a General right now, and you witnessed such a commotion, what would you do?"
She bared her teeth in a feral snarl. He was messing with her mind. Even Zest and Cecil jittered with discomfort beside her. She guessed what Sephiroth was attempting. The General was aware of how disdainful she was of Zest, and he was planning to humiliate her in front of her colleague.
"General," Zest broke out, and Lightning gazed at him with shock, "May I have permission to speak, Sir?"
Sephiroth glanced at him with a piercing look. Zest was unabashed by the intimidating glare. "Permission granted."
"I do not think that Captain Farron was aware of young Frioniels' heart condition," Zest surmised, "I am certain that if she was, then she would have reconstructed his training regime."
"Frioniel!? Heart condition!?" Lightning gasped, her heart plummeting into her stomach. Why had Firion not told her about this before?
She slapped herself mentally. Of course. How could he tell her when she wouldn't listen?
"Had she asked him?" Sephiroth queried, ignoring the fact that Lightning was right in front of him. He somehow pretended that she didn't exist.
"I have not, General," Lightning replied coldly, but Sephiroth didn't even glance at her.
"Tell Captain Farron to pack her belongings," The General spoke out, eyes cast towards the sky, "She is suspended for two weeks."
"Wait!" Lightning knew it was futile. Once Sephiroth came to a decision, there was no turning back.
She thought about Serah, and Yuna. What would they do when they find out? She thought of her mortgage and the house bills. They were due to be paid soon. How was she going to manage them? Her expression was nonchalant but inside, she was trembling. Lightning rarely felt fear.
Only Claire Farron felt fear, and Claire had died a long time ago. From the ashes, Lightning was born, to replace Claire. Lightning was not meant to let emotions drown her inside a turbulent ocean. Lightning was supposed to flash bright, and fade away with a powerful roar.
Her only weakness was her sister. She became Lightning to protect Serah. How could she protect her now?
Sephiroth swerved around, strutting away.
"Claire," Zest began but she pushed his hand away from her.
"Just…Don't," She said, tiredly, like an old woman, like an old soul.
"I am sorry for what happened," He offered, while Cecil shook his head in pity.
She didn't want their apologies or sympathy. "Sorry? Just stop, okay?" She marched back to her dormitory.
Her heart suddenly longed for the Phantom Train, and its enigmatic howls, but she couldn't face Yuna now. Yuna will soon find out that Firion was sent to the hospital.
::::::::::::::::::::::
Yuna stared forlornly at her vibrating phone. This was the fourth time that Firion's sister was attempting to communicate with her but Yuna was in no mood to answer it. Lightning had suddenly cancelled their meet up before the Phantom Train on mysterious terms. She couldn't decipher why the soldier would disappear on this night.
In her desperation, Yuna had to plead Golbez for a lift to the train station. She was afraid that if she answered her phone, she would have to travel to Firion's house for dinner. After all, his family was concerned that she was currently living on her own in the apartment. They rendered her a helpless soul, who was lacking in tact to roam the spacious cities of Zanarkand. Hence, Yuna chose to ignore them.
She desired to see her beloved painter once again, the boy with brown hair that appeared to have been kissed by the sun, and eyes that reflected dancing blue flames against amethyst jewels. A week had passed since their first meeting, and she couldn't help but feel as if her heart was stolen by him. The organ beneath her ribs only sent oxygen to keep her breathing, but her breaths would cease whenever the painter was at near distance. She could imagine her real heart stashed inside his works of art.
What she would give to hold his heart too? To hold the pumping organ in her palms and stare longingly at it. To feel the tenderness of it beneath the tips of her fingers, and to hold it close to her chest, just to feel the way in beat in synchrony with her own. How she longed to have him beside her, to hold her, and to cradle her. She wished that he could whisk her away from this cruel, sombre world.
Alas, she could only dream of these moments. Her beloved painter was clueless to her feelings for him. She berated herself for these sinful thoughts. He would never acknowledge her. She was too dull as a person, too kind and predictable while he was sunshine, enthusiasm, and merriment. He was everything that Tidus lacked.
A gust of a wintry breeze sent tremors through out her body. She was currently waiting for Golbez outside her apartment, garbed in a halter neck cream top, and a long pleated violet skirt flowed gracefully to her ankles. She wrapped a woolly blue scarf over her neck.
It was a chilly night, met with occasional breaths of icy winds. Dark clouds imbued with glowing orange hues traversed above, rolling against shadows and astronomical light. She had given Lightning her favourite scarf, one that she personally knitted herself. The soldier never returned it to her, for reasons unknown. Yuna was too afraid to embarrass the older woman if she brought up the particular topic.
A rickety bumblebee car hovered close by and broke down in front of her. Yuna watched as Golbez cursed uncharacteristically and twisted his keys to restart the engine. It was amusing that such a large man was able to fit inside the tiny, two seated car. The moon-like man bellowed a ludicrous exclamation, slamming a large foot onto the brake. The car suddenly jolted to life, its engine humming like a busy bee.
"Greetings Yuna!" Golbez called from the window, beckoning her inside.
Yuna sat in the front passenger seat, to one edge, since Golbez's shoulders took up a lot of space in the front.
"….Greetings," She replied once the car took off at a tremendous speed.
"How are you today?" Golbez asked.
For a man past his middle age, Golbez retained the strength of youth. His eyesight was sharper than an eagle's, and his driving was equal in insanity to Lightning's, if not worse. Yuna sank into the cushions of her seat, soon to be devoured by the material, due to Goblez's speed.
"Fine, thank you, and you?" She huffed through gritted teeth, avoiding to bite her tongue as she gripped the edges of her seat.
"Never better. Are you looking forward to meeting Bartz today?"
Her heart skipped a beat, and her eyes widened in shock. She gritted her teeth in frenzy, losing her senses in that frantic moment. Why would Golbez bring up a topic that focused solely on the object of her desire?
"I…" She started, unsure of how to respond, "I…"
"Pardon me?" Golbez raised a supercilious brow, his eyes surveying the traffic ahead, "Are you not looking forward to see what Bartz has in store for us today?"
She breathed out a sigh of relief. It must have been a loud sigh, since Golbez watched her from his peripheral vision, with a ghost of a smile flitting across his lips.
"Of course," Yuna said to him, her apprehension evident in her shaky tone, "I am glad that we're finished with the perfect tree."
"Ah, that was a splendid lesson," Golbez reminisced in delight, "The rest of the world vanishes when I take up my paintbrush. All that exists is the canvas and my mind."
"Oh…You are very skilled at painting."
"It is something that I love."
"Have you always painted?" She regretted her words as dreary gloom shadowed his stout physiognomy.
He stared into a distant horizon with a wistful sigh, a distant memory and a past that only he knew. The world became nothing but oblivion to him. Yuna silently prayed that the car wouldn't slip off the road.
"No, it was Bartz that first suggested I join his painting classes. This was after I met him on the Phantom train over a year ago."
"Bartz was giving lessons in that place since a year ago?" Yuna blinked in surprise.
"He did indeed," Golbez chuckled, steering the car sharply to the left and overtaking a large truck, ignoring the horns he received from fellow drivers.
"When I first met Bartz, I had lost myself to the shadows," He continued, ignoring the rude gestures from the drivers that he overtook with his ancient car, "I had tasted the bitter wine of life, and I was embracing death."
Yuna stared at him, wishing to throw her arms around his shoulders and pull him into a tight embrace. Golbez was a good natured person. It was difficult to imagine that he endured any sorrow in his life. She recalled the stories she heard of those that took the Phantom Train. The mysterious vehicle was paradise for people who experienced trauma and poignant sorrow.
However, Golbez also mentioned Bartz. The latter had been a regular passenger for over a year now. Had he also experienced such sadness that forced him to take the Phantom Train? Yuna found it hard to believe. Bartz was always cheerful and boisterous. His gregarious nature often enlightened the moods of those around him. He was a candle of warmth for the coldest hearts.
"Bartz was on the Phantom Train?" She blurted, but regretted her words. She should console Golbez, not enquire about her painting teacher.
Her friend let out a sly chuckle. "Yes, we first met on the Phantom Train."
"If you don't mind me asking…Why did you board the Phantom Train?"
Golbez's smile faded away. In its stead was grim hatred. His lips curled downwards and his features contorted with vexation. His sudden change in demeanour frightened Yuna. She glanced at her shoes, too terrified to look him in the eye.
"Because I lost my heart to the darkness," He told her dismally, "I succumbed to my weakness, and couldn't protect my younger brother because of that. I was nothing but a pitiful, empty shell. No soul. No mind. Just a zombie."
He confused her. She tried to decipher his words but to no avail. She was too afraid to ask him any further. Not when he was possessed with such raging anger. Then it struck her like a rock through a window. The anger emitted from Golbez was towards himself.
He hated himself, she thought sympathetically. He was filled with ire against himself. In his eyes was raw hatred. It was as if he wished to tear himself apart. He was breaking inside, and she couldn't prevent that. She longed to help him rebuild his shattered soul.
"I'm sorry…" She offered, resting her small hand over his large one.
He shook his head. "Forgive me for pouring out my misery on you. I often get carried off."
Yuna was glad that his face resumed its usual serene expression. She didn't want to reminisce the earlier irked look that darkened his features. It was horrific, and it tweaked her heartstrings with sorrow.
Golbez arrived at the train station, only to find that the parking spaces were all full up. He snarled and jammed his car awkwardly into the handicap parking space. When he got off, he surveyed the crooked way the car stood over the lines. The boot was diagonal to its front, almost touching the next car beside it. Whether it bothered him or not, the large man made no attempt to fix his errors.
The usually empty parking lot was boisterous with the voices of people. Men and women, extravagantly dressed roamed about the shadows. They chatted away with enthusiasm, huddling into groups to shield each other from the cold wind. Their breaths hovered in the air like mist.
"Are they all taking the Phantom Train?" Yuna queried, confusion enveloping her senses.
Golbez chuckled at her, and she glanced at him with her brows furrowed.
"Not at all, Yuna. Though I am not a fan of soccer, Zanarkand will be playing against Midgar tomorrow. I do believe that her citizens are travelling to support their team."
"Oh…"
Guilt constricted around her heart like tendrils of vines. Tidus' flashing smile formed in the back of her mind, before dissipating like incorporeal smoke. She had forced his existence out of her life, pretending that the painter stood in his place. Her vows, her nightly passions, her bouts of shared laughter no longer contained Tidus, but imaginary moments with Bartz. She even feigned that Bartz was the man she saw on her wedding night, not the absurd sports-star.
The painter had taken control of her heart and her mind. She blushed from her thoughts, forcing herself to stare at the ground, and patting her heated cheeks.
"Look, there is Cloud," Golbez's voice allowed relief to seep into her tortured soul.
She peered over the dancing bodies, noticing the awfully unruly blonde hair glinting in the artificial light. Cloud trudged his way over, hands hidden inside the pockets of his blue sweatpants. He nodded in acknowledgement at Golbez but didn't even give Yuna a second glance.
Yuna was accustomed to this intriguing behaviour. She understood that Cloud was as tough as concrete, and only Terra held the key to his heart. She knew that no matter how much she tried to befriend the recluse, she wouldn't succeed. Never the less, Yuna would flourish the man with gentle smiles and good words.
"Lightning's not here?" The morose ex-soldier asked, to no one in particular.
"She is busy with work," Yuna replied, and to her surprise, he nodded at her.
They hurried their way over to platform one. The Phantom Train was already present amidst the swirling mist. It kissed the metal silhouette of the vehicle, evanescent and surreal. Voices hushed, and spectators watched the three friends traced their footsteps towards the train.
At first, Yuna could feel her heart beating. She was afraid if people would recognise her. These were Tidus' fans after all. Luckily, since she was much hated by the sports society, not many people knew her face.
Then, her worries melted away, like ice in the sunlight. Bartz was waiting outside the carriage, and when his eyes met theirs, hers especially, he broke into an easy grin. The crooked smile filled her heart with delight, the same joy that she experiences when she devours down chocolate flavoured ice-cream with thick vanilla syrup.
"H-hello," Yuna stammered, for that was all she could do.
Her knees trembled, threatening to give way. She burned like charred coal underneath her garments. Her face flushed with heated shame, and she must have succumbed to her anxiety because Golbez's cool hand steadied her.
"Hey guys, let's get in before the train ditches us," Bartz told them.
He was about to move but Golbez blocked the painter's way with his broad shoulders. The burly man allowed Cloud to move before proceeding into the velvety wooden interior of the train.
"Help Yuna in," Golbez suddenly leaned down from the door, staring intently at Bartz, "She hasn't been feeling well since I met her."
"W-what!?" Yuna rasped, her tone raised to a squeaky pitch.
She must have resembled a frightened mouse when Bartz turned to face her. For the first time, she wanted to smack Goblez across the head but her schemes for revenge subsided when her hand was held by the painter.
His hand was warm, and his grip was firm. She had dreamed of holding his hand at a moment like this. She had greeted him with a handshake a week ago, but that was irrelevant and not intimate. She had imagined that his hands would be soft, like lilies and tulips, but was shocked to graze over callouses and rough patches of skin.
"Hey, what's wrong?" He spoke, eyes watching her with utmost concern.
"N-nothing," Yuna murmured, but everything was wrong with her, to the irregular rhythms of her heart and the lascivious intentions of her mind. Her father will never hear her confession.
"Are you sure you can stay for this lesson?" He said, "You can always go back home and sleep, you know."
"No, no, I am fine," She reassured him.
"Okay," He nodded, but gave her one of his sunshine smiles, "But if you're not feeling top notch inside, then you can always take a nap."
His other hand travelled to her shoulder. The contact with skin on skin sent jolts of electricity up her spine. He hoisted her over the ledge on the train, aiding her inside. She noticed Squall gaze at them, his icy cobalt eyes flashed with curiosity.
Hastily, Yuna made her way to sit beside Golbez. The empty seat in front of her left her with a longing to see Lightning. She had met the woman the night before, but her absence had struck Yuna with a sense of loneliness. As always, Cloud took up his favourite spot at the back of the carriage, aloof from everyone else.
"How did that go?" Golbez whispered in her ear surreptitiously.
"Don't ask." She pouted at him, scowling.
"You are very easy to read, milday," The old man chuckled, "Like a poetry book written by a child."
His gregarious mood did little to enlighten her. Not even Terra and Luneth's arrivals at the next stop could ease her fleeting emotions. She thought her heart had been torn in two, one part admonishing her feelings while the other praised her growing love for the painter.
She stared at him more and more, as he described their next lesson to them. She watched how delicately his hands held the paintbrush and wondered how his fingers would look, tangled in her hair, or how his lips would feel over her own.
Her mind was racing with concern. She was plunging deeper into a crisis that could leave her permanently insane. This wasn't just love. Her cheeks were warm at the thought. Oh no, it definitely wasn't love. It was the very sin that her father preached against in his sermons. It was the sin that caused friends to become arch enemies.
Her heart did not beat with a longing to protect Bartz. She didn't want his love in return. Yuna gazed at her feet, tears clinging to the edges of her vision. She was a horrible person. She lusted after another man, who was unaware of her lecherous desires. She ignored her husband, who called her endlessly just to be met with vengeful silence.
People like her deserved to burn in the darkest pits of hell. She was less than worthless, yet she couldn't stop her mind or her heart. She couldn't prevent her soul being enticed by Bartz as if he was a magnet. How would he feel if he found out? What if he was already married to another woman?
At that point, she wanted to vanish in the air, away from these people who suddenly seemed like strangers to her. She hoped to melt into the moonlight, to be carried away by its rays to the stars. If she only she could transmogrify into a star, so she could illuminate the paths of lonely souls seeking a way out of the darkness. If only she could be a more useful person, and not one with such lustful thoughts.
"Yuna?"
She looked up to meet the eyes of the man that captivated her.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Bartz was leaning down to capture her gaze with his own, perplexed one.
"Y-yes," She answered him, but her stomach churned with discomfort.
How dare he? He shouldn't be mere inches away from her. She regretted their close proximity, since his breezy scent infiltrated her senses, and all she saw before her was sandy esplanades and dancing palm trees. She was washed away to an island that stored all the precious memories of her homeland.
"You don't look so good," He said, reaching to touch her forehead, but she backed away, pushing his hand.
His brows furrowed with confusion, and he took a step back.
"S-sorry!" She stammered, her hands over her mouth.
He shook his head, giving her one of his sunny smiles. "You're okay! Just get started on the painting if you're up to it."
"What's wrong with the princess today?" Squall called out sarcastically, in his annoying monotone.
Hearing his voice caused Yuna to frown in anger. She grabbed her palette and began pouring out thick blotches of paint. Then she hesitated, unsure of what Bartz had mentioned in the lesson today.
"Cut it out, Squall," Bartz warned him.
"You can't silence him," Gabranth moaned, crossing his arms and glaring at the painter, "He has the wit of a dimwit."
"Wit of dimwit?" Squall raised a brow, his lips curling into a feral grin, "Never heard of that one."
"I presume he means to say that Squall possesses a wit that is lesser than the simplest of animals," Golbez offered, giving them all a sidelong glance.
Gabranth stood from his seat, appearing more unruly than before. "I don't need your moronic dialogue!"
"Geez, no need to get in a fix," Squall bemoaned, rolling his eyes, but Gabranth didn't listen and strode over to where Golbez was sitting.
Yuna looked between the two. Golbez met Gabranth's irked expression with a cool nonchalance.
"Hmph," He said, resuming to paint, but Gabranth intervened by grabbing his paintbrush.
Golbez attempted to take his brush back, but the blond pushed his palm into the moon-like man's large forehead.
Bartz appeared distraught at the behaviour of the two men, pleading Gabranth to take his seat. Terra and Luneth watched terrified from the corner, while Cloud and Squall seemed like they had expected this commotion. Yuna inched back from her chair, not intending to become a victim. She worried for Golbez.
She sympathised with Gabranth but was unsure as to why the man came into the train smelling like a room full of fish, and wearing clothes that were rancid as they were dirty.
"Come on guys. Not this again. Can't you just let go of the past?" Bartz suggested, stepping closer to the two older men.
"If this dog stops pestering me every day, then maybe I will," Gabranth barked, pointing an accusing finger at Golbez.
"There is no need for that language, Noah," Golbez started, still maintaining a lucid expression, "I do believe that Bartz has a point here."
"Shut your trap! How dare you call me by that miserable name!"
"Noah, stop this nonsense. I am just trying to help you. That is all."
"I don't need your help. I don't need help from the likes of you- you wretch!"
"Every soul needs guidance, especially yours. You must first find the right path."
"I said shut up!" Gabranth raised a curled fist at Golbez, and a few gasps rang through the air.
"Oh stop it already!" Yuna implored, her hands joined together.
Everyone remained silent, all eyes staring at her. She burned with nervousness, swallowing her embarrassment before speaking again.
"I…Don't want you to fight, please," She explained, "I want…I want our journey to be full of laughter, not anger."
Gabranth stared at her curiously, before lowering his fist and taking his place back beside Squall. No one spoke after that. They all resumed with their paintings.
And Yuna wished she could have been home. If Lightning was here, then she wouldn't have felt so out of place. She didn't belong here. She was a stranger. They were strangers.
She glanced at Bartz, only to realise that he was staring at her. He quickly broke his gaze, skittering across to where Cloud and Terra were sitting.
He was also a stranger, she thought to herself.
:::::::::::::::::::::
This was her last time, she had decided. This would be the last time that she would board the Phantom Train. A week had passed, but her misery only grew like a field full of weeds. She didn't want to be near Bartz anymore. She didn't want to be near the other passengers either.
She didn't even feel comfortable around Golbez. They were all strangers to her. Her fingers were shaking. She longed for her home. Not her homeland. Her home deep in the heart of Zanarkand. For the first time in her life, she welcomed Zanarkand's flaring lights and noisy streets like home.
She was so immersed in her thoughts after she got off back at Zanarkand, that she didn't realise Goblez was missing. Her heart skipped a beat, and panic enveloped her insides.
She surveyed the area for the broad man but couldn't see him. She had fallen asleep on the way back, her head on Golbez's shoulder. When she awoke, she was walking as if in a misty dream. Her body was not her own. She was watching the soulless Yuna from above strolling back into Zanarkand's train station.
"Golbez?" She cried, looking through the hordes of people.
He was nowhere in sight. She didn't know how to get home. It was dark, and past the comfort of midnight. The station was situated a good distance away from her district.
"Golbez! Where are you?" She rasped, tears threatening to spill, as she clutched at the scarf around her neck.
"Yuna!"
She glanced around for the source of the voice. Her heart dropped into her stomach, and she wanted to flow away like water, away from this place, away from life.
Bartz jogged towards her. He gave her a grin but she was too demure to respond back. She stood frozen, staring at him like a frightened rabbit. She had forgotten that Bartz didn't stay on the Phantom Train. He had returned to Zanarkand with them.
In the distance, she noticed Squall conversing with a short young man with elfin features.
"Golbez had to leave early. He asked me to take you home," Bartz explained to her.
She didn't want to go home with him. She didn't want to be near him.
"You okay?" He asked, when she didn't respond, "Umh...Are the classes going well for you? You seemed kinda lost today."
"I'm fine," She huffed, staring at her shoes, wishing that her very existence could have been erased, "Sorry…I mean…Sorry."
What he did next could have erased him from existence. He pulled her into his arms and she gasped inaudibly. Her eyes widened with shock as his head leaned down into the crook of her neck. Her heart raced wildly, threatening to explode and scar her lungs. Her breath hitched inside her throat. The world melted into fire, water and eternal bliss.
Her fingers twitched with unease. She was unsure of what to do. Her body longed to return the embrace. She remembered how Tidus had circled his arms around another woman. It should have been normal, but it didn't feel normal.
"Bartz…" Yuna whispered, eyes staring past the stars, into a distant sky that never appeared.
He tightened his grip and spoke in a low tone that sent shivers down her spine. "I could tell that you're going through a tough time."
Don't, she wanted to tell him. She knew his words held an entire different meaning, but the tone of his voice was seductive, without him realising. She was meant to stick with her decision of leaving the Phantom Train, not hoping to board it again. Did he have any idea as to why she was living through ongoing conflictions? He was the source of it all.
"But just remember that we're all here for you."
'We're all here for you.'
The words rang through her mind like echoes of broken glass. He pulled away, leaving her shivering in the cold once again.
"So, before we head off, do you want to join me and my mates for a time out?" He asked her, resuming his joyful appearance.
She gazed at the short man with the sharply cut blond hair, and then reluctantly at Squall.
"But…"
Bartz added, "Don't worry. Squall's bark is worse than his bite. He's not that bad once you get to know him."
Since when did Squall and Bartz share such a connection? They seemed like an unlikely set of friends.
"But…"
"No buts."
He held out a palm to silence her. With the same hand, he took hers and led her towards the other two men. Squall gave her an ambivalent scowl, while the blond grinned at her.
"Zidane, meet Yuna. Yuna, this is my best mate, Zidane," Bartz introduced.
"Yuna?" Zidane took her hand, kissing her knuckles, and she blushed, "Moon flower right? Such a befitting name for a beautiful lady!"
"Wait till Garnet hears about that," Bartz chuckled and Zidane shot him a petulant frown.
"You're not gonna tell her. I know you," He retorted.
"He could let it slip. This is Bartz that we're talking about," Squall pointed out and Zidane gave an exasperated moan.
"It's cool. I was just messing," The painter admitted.
"Squall's no fun," Zidane blurted, giving the indolent-eyed man a punch across the shoulder, "Anyways, let's head for those drinks!"
Yuna bit her bottom lip upon realisation of where they were headed. She never touched alcohol in her life. What would they say if they found out? Would they laugh at her?
"About time, I couldn't handle those classes anymore," Squall murmured as they trekked their way over to a glamorous BMW.
"What was that?" Bartz said, a hand over his ear with a cheeky grin plastered across his face.
"Nothing! Zidance, how the hell did you pay for this car?"
"A magician never reveals his secrets," Zidane teased, twirling the set of keys in his finger.
"I know your rich girlfriend has a hand in this," Squall said, smacking a palm across his forehead.
"Squall!" Zidane protested, then gifted Yuna a flirtatious wink, "See? Squall's no fun!"
He unlocked the car, ordering them to go inside. Bartz was about to take the passenger seat but the blond immediately stopped him.
"Bartz, have you forgotten the rules?" He said.
"Huh? What rules?" The painter furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
"When a lady is present, they always get front seat," Zidane reminded him, and Yuna could picture that her face must have been as red as a tomato.
"Eh?" Bartz scratched an irritated spot on his head, "Since when?"
Zidane rolled his eyes. "Since now."
Bartz replied with a silky shrug. Although Yuna found Zidane charming, she was in no mood to sit beside him. To her dismay, the blond forced her to take the passenger seat.
They drove to a bar that was not too far away from the train station. Upon hopping off the car, Yuna saw two bodyguards dragging a man out from the entrance by the legs. They swung him to the ground and warned him to stay away.
The intruder scrambled back to his feet, shaking a fist at the bodyguards.
"I'm a Turk, yo!" He cried, "Do you have any idea who I work for?"
"Look, its Reno," Squall pointed out.
The man gazed at them, his eyes glimmering with recognition. He trekked his way towards them with a drunken gait. Bartz pinched the sides of his nose while Squall rolled his eyes and pushed the red haired Turk away from them.
"Squall, you're my friend aren't you?" Reno stuttered, hiccupping between sentences.
"No," The silent man replied.
"Should someone call Rude to collect him?" Bartz whispered among them.
Yuna was terrified. She barely knew the three friends that she was following. Reno was a shady character, and he was completely drunk. She was afraid that he would drown in his intoxication and notice her feminine charm. She was afraid that he'd attempt to rape her.
Unconsciously, she leaned against Bartz, holding his arm. He glanced at her from down his shoulder, his hand closing overs hers. His touch was warm and alleviated her rapid heartbeat.
"Just leave him," Squall suggested.
"Squall! We couldn't just leave him hanging here," Zidane gasped. Reno nodded his head in agreement.
Zidance turned back to Reno. "You three go on ahead, I'll call Rude."
"I'll help you," Bartz offered, stepping away from Yuna, "Squall, take Yuna inside."
She didn't want him to leave her side, not when Squall's piercing gaze fell upon her. He grunted at her to follow him. She did reluctantly, glancing back at Bartz and Zidane who consoled the drunken Turk. Bartz caught her eye and flashed her a gentle smile, but it did little to comfort her shrivelled heart.
The bar inside was dark, and clustered with many people. The air reeked of alcohol, and Yuna held back tears. She was alone amongst strangers. Not even Bartz's presence would calm her now. She wished to be home.
Squall chose a circular table with stooled seats. She sat opposite him, avoiding to stare at him directly, her hands wringing over and over in nervous anticipation.
"I know what you're up to," Squall said, breaking her away from her thoughts.
She gave a confused look. His icy glare froze her features, and the smell of fresh air from outside was inviting. All she had to do was run out, but how would she get home?
"Just for the record," He continued, "You're not Bartz's type."
"W-what?" She stammered.
She didn't expect Squall to be inquisitive about her intentions. She didn't know that he could see through her like clear glass. How could he notice the way she stared at Bartz? His words struck through her like metal spires, tearing through her flesh to expose bone and blood. Was she truly not the type of woman that would please Bartz?
People praised her feathery brown hair, her mismatched coloured eyes, and ivory skin. However, Yuna thought her features were too soft, too flat. She didn't have the beautiful sharpness that possessed Lightning's face, or the heart-shaped head that belonged to Firion's sister. She wasn't particularly beautiful. Was it beautiful girls that caught Bartz's attention?
She shook her head. Why was she even musing over this? Why did Bartz's opinion matter to her this much?
"You are mistaken," She said to Squall, more coldly than she intended.
"Hmph," He dismissed her comment with a sardonic, mirthless grin, "Whatever, but I'm not stupid like the others or Bartz. He deserves someone better."
All she could recollect from his words were that Bartz was currently not in a relationship, unless…
"Do you…" She paused, unsure of whether to continue her question.
Squall's eyes widened with frigid anger. He immediately retorted, "No! I already have a girlfriend."
"Oh…" Yuna blushed with heated shame, "I'm sorry."
Squall glanced at the sky. "She used to be in a coma a few months ago. That was when Bartz got me to join the Phantom Train."
She didn't know why he was telling her stories of his past. He must have trusted her, because this was unusual for him. She couldn't understand why anyone would love Squall, but for the first time since she met him, there was fierce loyalty blaring beneath his cobalt eyes.
"Is that when you first met Bartz?" Yuna questioned him curiously.
"No, I've known him and Zidance from way back." His eyes squinted with caution, "He's an important friend to me. So I don't want him getting hurt."
Yuna gasped, leaning back but almost fell off her stool due to forgetting that there was no back support provided.
"Do you…" She hesitated, unsure of how to form her words, "Do you think that I would hurt Bartz? How…How could you even suggest that?"
"You like him a lot, don't you?"
"I…" Her hands covered over her mouth. She had let her feelings slip into the gloomy atmosphere. "I don't…"
"Has anyone ever told you that you're a bad liar?" Squall stated with a bemused smirk.
"Hey guys!" Zidane's boisterous tone interrupted their dismal conversation. He sauntered his way to the table along with Bartz.
"Rude came to collect Reno. The poor guy was too drunk to even walk by himself," Bartz said, shaking his head in dismay.
"I can't believe you two helped that moron," Squall sighed in disbelief.
"Do you really need to a reason to help someone?" Zidane countered, to which Squall shrugged with a dramatic roll of his eyes.
Zidane suggested that they order their drinks. Squall was set on ordering the fiercest whiskey in the whole bar: Time Compression, while Zidane settled on Lifa Tree, a more benign version of the drink. To Yuna's surprise, Bartz was allergic to alcohol, so he ordered a non-alcoholic cocktail. Yuna used the same excuse, and she was certain that Squall regarded her with doubt.
Zidane and Squall left the table to collect their orders. A heavy weight clung to Yuna's shoulders. She was too embarrassed to stare at Bartz anymore, not after what Squall had told her. She fiddled with the pleats of her skirt.
"So you're allergic as well?" Bartz started, and she wished she could have smacked his mouth.
Speaking with the object of her affection only intensified her feelings for him. She nodded timidly at him.
"You should have seen me the first time I tried," He continued enthusiastically, "I was underage. Woke up in the hospital after it."
She gazed at him in shock. "But-but how? That's- that's illegal, isn't it?"
He chuckled at her response. "Believe me, most of the youngsters drink. Did you ever ask Luneth?"
"Luneth too!?" The fifteen year old child that exhibited brilliant cleverness. She was beginning to feel detached from the bar. How naïve was she?
Bartz appeared distraught and guilty. "Damn, shouldn't have said that…Hey, tell me more about yourself."
"I…" She couldn't tell him the truth. He would spurn her forever. "There is nothing to say."
He crossed his arms across his chest, and raised his brow. "Okay... You live here in Zanarkand, right?"
She nodded, glancing at her hands, and wondering why her ring finger looked so naked.
"I am currently living in Balamb, you know, Squall's town."
"I don't know."
"He didn't tell you?"
She shook her head.
"What a grouch," He chuckled.
Then she realised that he didn't carry any of this painting instruments with him.
"Your belongings?" Yuna reminded him.
"Hmm?" He gazed about him with a wistful glaze over his eyes.
"Your art materials are not with you."
"Oh that!" He recalled, "I left them on the Phantom Train. They will return to my studio."
It was a dreary explanation. "How?" She narrowed her eyes.
"I don't know myself. They just end up back in my studio every morning."
"Your studio?" She inquired, enrapt with awe at his celestial presence.
"Correct. My studio is situated in Balamb. I work on commissions and galleries in my free time. What do you do outside the painting classes?"
"I…" Her mind raced with possible answers. "I work part time, in the zoo."
"The zoo?" His eyes widened with petulant curiosity, "I love that place!"
"Really?" Yuna asked hopefully, smiling at him genuinely for the first time that evening, "I could…Take you there one day."
His smile toned to a softer look. "I would love to."
They stared at each other wordlessly, smiling, and forgetting all that there was in the background. No bodies, no sounds, no banter interrupted their gaze. It was the first time that Yuna stared into his soul. He had left his soul exposed for her to dissect. She traced every inch with her imaginary scalpels.
"Well, well, did we miss something?" Zidane interjected, placing Yuna's pineapple and coconut cocktail in front of her.
"Yuna works in the zoo," Bartz told him.
"Charming," Squall said with a sarcastic tone, taking his seat beside Bartz again.
"Are we invited?" Zidane turned to her, and then he added slyly, "Or is it only a date with Bartz?"
"I-I…!" Yuna swallowed her nervousness.
"Hey, I asked her first," Bartz joked, laughing at Zidane's antics.
"That's nice," The short blond agreed, "Bartz kinda needs a girlfriend anyway."
"G-girlfriend?" Yuna blurted.
"Zidane! Stop spoiling the mood," The painter demanded, while Squall's eyes burnt a hole through Yuna's forehead.
They resumed a more solemn conversation after, talking about politics and listing the names of people that Yuna had no idea about. She berated herself for not paying attention to the news. She made a mental note to keep up current affairs so that she could converse with the men in the distant future, if such a future existed.
A memory of Tidus formed in the hollow depths of her mind. It was a memory that was the epitome of her guilt and her fears. If Bartz found out about her true past, then will he discard their friendship?
She stared at him as he talked animatedly with his mates. He didn't notice her yearning look towards him. It was true that he considered her a friend now. His heart was so close, all she had to do was snatch it and stash it away into a secret pocket within her soul.
Once again, she caught Squall gifting her a dreadful glare. Their conversation changed to the Crystal Cup, only making her stomach churn with unease and chaos. Every moment reminded her of Tidus, but her heart longed for the painter.
The rest of the night fled through her fingers like sand. Zidane opted to take her back to her district. He was surprised that she lived in one of the most prestigious streets in all of Zanarkand, himself living close by.
"You see, my girlfriend is the mayor's adopted daughter, and I moved in with her this month," He explained to her.
But his words drowned in her ears, like waves over a deep chasm. She could only think about the Phantom Train, and the fate that it had thrown her into.