The Side Effects of Unoriginality

Author's Note: I do not own FFX-2. I simply own the plot and grammatical errors.

I would like to thank my reviewers. In fact, I dedicate this chapter to them.

To Miszanonymous13 for being the first to review and keep my spirits up. And to Miesie-chan for the much-needed and well-placed enthusiasm. I thank you both.

Chapter 2: Distractions

The next morning, I couldn't manage bring myself up from my despair. I couldn't see any reason to do so. Work? The sand always needed to be dug up. We had plenty of people that were willing to do that. No one needed me for that. Breakfast? Sure, my stomach was giving me its best act, but I wasn't the slightest bit interested. It growled and roared loudly, doing its best to get my attention, to no avail, sadly. Bathroom? There's a good one, I thought. But again, it wasn't enough. I didn't feel the urge to force my legs to move all the way towards the bathroom. It wasn't worth it, as far as I concerned myself.

Yesterday's revelation had actually exhausted me. Although I had always known that, if I never let myself say those things out loud, I figured I could act like that wasn't the case. But how long did I expect love to outweigh ignorance? I knew the truth all along. I tried to run from it, tried to act like it wasn't there. I kept running, trying to put as much distance between what I couldn't forget and myself. In my heart I knew. My friends were moving on with their lives. They deserved something better than the Gullwings. So how could I be mad at them for doing what I so desperately wanted to do?

I buried my face into the pillow and screamed loudly, content in knowing that I was the only one aboard the Celsius anyway. Like yesterday, Brother, Buddy, Shinra and Cid had probably left already, going to work to finish scouring the desert for hidden machina. When I said it like that, I felt somewhat hopeful. The desert was so vast it had taken us this long just to clear out a tiny portion of one of the four expanses. If I was lucky, I could squander my otherwise useless life here and never have to face reality again. I could be content enough just to stay here and never return.

But life doesn't work like that, I heard someone echoing in my head. When I found that damn voice—and I would find it—I'd give it a slow and painful death. I rolled over and shifted until I found something comfortable. It didn't last long; an unstable mind made for uncomfortable positions. So I fidgeted in bed, bored beyond my mind and unable to concentrate on anything else, aside from the nagging pain that kept eating away at my chest. It was painful, to say the least, but more than that, it kept me focused on my hardships, which was the last thing that I wanted right now.

I didn't want to remember. I didn't want to feel. I wanted to be numb in my ignorance, wanted to pretend that yesterday never happened. I'd been so good these past few months. I hadn't thought about Paine and Yuna living their lives, hadn't thought about what it meant for me not to be apart of their lives. I was just living from moment to moment, trying to forget my life as a member of the Gullwings. Up until yesterday, I had succeeded in my conquest. I hadn't the time to worry about what I was missing with Paine and Yuna gone from my life. I couldn't find the time to squander my thoughts on painful things. I couldn't think about them if I had myself buried in a workload of machina that piled much taller than me.

But then yesterday happened. Yesterday just had to happen. I had to remember them, had to remember their smiling faces, faces that were probably laughing at me from their new lives. It was probably a joke between them—between people who pretended to be my friends. They probably were laughing at me, little ol' Rikku who couldn't see anything beyond being a third member of the Gullwings. They were…

I can't think like that, I thought, pressing a pillow roughly to my chest. I bit down on its edge and repressed the urge to cry. I didn't want my paranoia to overcome my logic. I knew that Paine and Yuna were my friends; they weren't liars, not like me. They were honest, they were my friends. I had to believe that…or else my entire foundation—the only reason I hadn't broken down sooner—it surely would crumble, leaving me in the ruins of my sunny, older self. I didn't want to let that happen. No, I couldn't let that happen. I had to cling desperately to the few moments of the real Rikku that I had left. If I lost what made me sunny, then what good was I to the rest of the world?

Sprawled on my bed, I stared up at the plain ceiling morbidly, though it was the blandness that caused my grimaced face. Of course, the ceiling wouldn't have seen it like that; surely, the ceiling would have been upset to have been on the receiving end of such a twisted glare. But the ceiling, as aforementioned, was not the intended receiver of the scowl. Naturally, the frown was more towards myself than anyone else. I was upset with myself, as I'm sure the rest of the world was.

Where had happy-go-lucky Rikku disappeared?

I was sure the world had asked this question aloud on many occasion in the past year since the departure of the Gullwings from the sphere-hunter's world. Other people had probably asked that to, but never to my face for fear of becoming my next victim. Recently, I'd become very grumpy and more withdrawn than a snail hiding in its shell. That was a good analogy, I think. Or at least, it was the best way to describe how I'd been. Now, that's not to say that I haven't been polite and social. I've been as sociable as possible, given my self-disgust and my insatiable need to become a recluse. I didn't have the need to be a socialite anymore; I didn't want to have to be involved with others.

The world wondered where Rikku had gone—the real Rikku—not this me. I was the person who was pretending to be Rikku. I wore her face and her clothes and even did my hair in the same wildly entertaining way. But I wasn't that Rikku. Of course, if anyone knew what had happened to that Rikku, then realization would wash the world anew. That Rikku had been hurt, not immensely so, but enough to force her into hiding, giving breath to this Rikku, the Rikku that was.

But the world still wondered where she went. Where has she gone? Sadly, it wasn't a question I had an answer to. Instead, I had a theory. Rather, I had theories.

Whatever had happened, I was sure to block it out. I didn't want to find myself in the middle of something important when suddenly I'm overwhelmed by an intense wave of emotion. It was completely unprofessional. So I locked it away, along with Miss Sunshine and acted like I was normal, rather, like I was the real Rikku and not some emotionless imposter, which even I began to suspect. But my resolve was easy to bend and even easier to break. I couldn't be a liar for long; I mean, I have morals, you know.

The truth was hard to explain. I was probably being overly dramatic, but didn't the fact that I felt the emotion somehow validate the need to feel wounded? I'll back up some. Or, I'll try to explain things a little better. Being apart of the Gullwings wasn't important because it meant finding spheres. It meant the world to me because it was something I could do everyday and still be within reach of my best friends, Paine and Yuna. My job was the best because they were there—there was nothing else better. So when we decided to split, my world somewhat crumbled down around me. At first, I knew it had nothing to do with me. We'd saved the world twice already; it was kinda losing its glamour. They needed time to themselves. I knew that.

But still…I felt…unwanted. My friends opted to put distance between us for the sake of being true to themselves. Not only that, but they decided visiting was out of the question, or at least, that's how it came across to me. One whole year and I hadn't seen either one of them since we said our good-byes. All I got were their lousy letters two or three times a week. I wasn't enough worth it enough to them for a weekly comsphere chat. I suppose that's what had me disheartened the most. That's why I was withdrawn—it was why I wanted nothing to do with the rest of the world. My best friends didn't need me; they didn't even want me around. What was the point of trying to maintain my usually light, carefree self?

There was no point.

"So here we are," I said to no one in particular, still with a grimace towards the ceiling, which was probably past the point of being offended by now. Livid was more the word I was leaning towards, if ceilings can actually be livid, that is.

The first three months were the hardest. Living everyday with held breath, wondering if today would be the day, only to have my hopes shattered at its ending when I realized, sadly, that it was not. It was always the same. I went on, day after day, hoping that someone would have it in their minds to remember me, that someone would pay me some attention. I pined for that love, begged for someone to cast a caring glance in my direction. I was desperate just to feel them in my life again.

That pattern continued on for quite a while. It lost its momentum at the beginning of the fourth month. It was hard to admit, but I was beginning to lose hope. All I ever received from them were their scribbled letters, which held as much love and sympathy as an angry cactuar. Thorns included. The fifth month came and went; I hardly noticed. I was content by then just to receive anything from them. But my desperation was wearing thin, as were my replies, all written letters, which had gone from being novel-sized to a measly two or three pages, one-sided.

The six month came and my heart had already broken; I didn't notice that either. I was numb already. I blocked the world out because it was too painful to remember. I buried myself in Cid's digging excavation projects, trying to keep my fingers busy. I didn't want to wring them around my neck, although now it was seeming like such a terrible waste. I'm not saying I'm suicidal—I'm not. I'm only saying that maybe that bit of pain would have redeemed me from the torture I'd later put myself through. That is, it would have given me something else to mull over in my times of desperation and need. I found that I was prone to wanting to feel but being too afraid to go out and actually submerge myself in the lives of others. I'd cut people out altogether in the fourth month and my withdrawn deposition was wide-felt and noticed by all the Al Bhed. I was their "Princess" after all. So instead, I slowly tortured myself with all my memories from the Gullwings, crying myself to sleep almost every night.

That's pathetic, I know.

The seventh, eighth and ninth months were hardly worth mentioning. My need for emotional support from my two best friends was dying, until finally, it stopped altogether. There was no lingering needs or wants; it had all but dissipated in my longing days to have my best friends recognize me as the waiting child who is begging for her parents' attention, only to be abandoned on a room of inanimate objects. I was sapped of all things that were reminiscent of the Rikku who'd helped save the world twice. Left in her stead was the Rikku I was, the Rikku who was pretending that the world was all right, which secretly trying to keep herself in tact. In both the latter and the former I failed; my façade was so easy to see through, but no one was brave enough to wound my pride. They let me drift on the way I was, worry written on their faces, but I wasn't attentive enough to have noticed.

I kept my hands in Cid's excavation projects and as the year wound itself down, I found that there was nothing left, but a slight, gnawing pain in the middle of my chest. It was something I had developed over the year of pushing them into the back of mind, something completely so uncharacteristic of the real Rikku, but it seemed to be something that made me into the Rikku I was slowly becoming. Pretending that something didn't bother me didn't make it so, but it numbed the pain enough for me to live on, even if it was in the shadow of my old life, the glimmering brilliance of Miss Sunshine.

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By the middle of the day, I had managed to get out of bed and make lunch for everyone that was aboard the Celsius. No one made eye contact with me and Cid wasn't even upset that I hadn't shown up for work. In fact, I think he was relieved that I decided to take a day off, since I hadn't done so in a year. I'd worked for him non-stop, seven days a week to keep my mind on something other than the subtle pain that throbbed in my chest. If I kept my mind busy, I wouldn't have time to think. That was my theory, so it was my belief.

Everyone settled themselves around the bar, eyeing their bowls of food expectantly. I was a good cook and everyone on the ship knew it. Hell, if it wasn't for me, I don't think they'd know what a decent meal was. However, as they prepared to eat, two or three pairs of eyes made a strange moment, swiveling around to rest on me. I was standing in the doorway, my bowl in hand. It was common law that I didn't eat with them. I rarely did, as their only concerns were machina, Paine and Yuna. Machina talk was fine, but it always ended with thoughts of the two women I wanted nothing to do with. I made excuses for why I didn't want to eat with them, each one flimsier than the last. But it was always enough to get me off the hook.

Today was no different. I quickly dashed back to my room, bowl in hand, and closed it when I'd safely made it inside the confines of my tiny room. I pushed the bowl onto the sturdy foundation of my desk before I slung my body recklessly onto my bed, burying my face into my pillow for the second time that day. I growled exasperatedly, my brow furrowing with my anxiety.

"E ryda drec," I growled halfheartedly into my soft pillow. "I hate this."

The last part sounded more like a plea than a statement full of conviction. I groaned inwardly, twisting in my bed uncomfortably. Again, I couldn't find a comfortable spot. I blamed my ever-growing anxiety and the tightening of my chest, which was forcing me to my side. I complied and rolled over, ever so begrudgingly, of course. Staring at the side of my desk, my mouth watered slightly as my eyes mulled over my captive, my bowl of food. To emphasize the point, my stomach decided to chime in and give its two cents. It growled loudly, my insides giving an overly dramatic shudder.

There is no god in heaven, I thought, wrenching myself free from my bed's comfort. I tossed my leg over the side of my chair and sat uncomfortably, my legs now crossed and slung over the side of my chair, braced by the wooden arm. My back pressed against the other arm and I sat in the middle of two arms, bridal-style, without any of the happiness. I was grouchy as I ate my food, despite the lovely taste as it slid down my throat and quieted my stomach's quiet pleas.

For nearly six months, the everyday daily things had become such a burden. I'd done my best to make a routine of my life, so that everything was a controlled variable. Wake up. Eat. Take a shower. Work. Come home. Sleep. That was how things were supposed to go, but now I was finding it harder and harder to maintain such a strict schedule. My hands wandered, my mind found itself in variously odd avenues of thought. I couldn't find a way to control myself with what I thought was a steel-clad will. Apparently, that was just a wispy ideology. Instead, my life was left in shambles, broken pieces that I tried my best to put back together in some sort of order, to little or no avail.

What bothered me most in all of this, however, was that I couldn't stop thinking of them. I'm sure I've emphasized this point enough. I feel as though a lover's scorned me. But that's a bit of life we're made to understand at very young ages. If that had happened, I could have very well moved on. I would have had my friends' support, I would have had their good faith to depend on. Their shoulders I could have cried on. But tell me, who do you run to when your very best friends abandon you, not in search of a new life, but because you're a pest? What do you do when your friends are trying to escape from your presence?

I guess what I'm trying to ask is, what do you when you've finally come to that realization that all along, it was you that was the problem?

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The next morning, I decided to make up for lost time. I got to work an hour earlier than I needed to, but was greeted with a cup of cold milk and a smile from one of the workers. I drank down the milk and returned the cup to him with a brief and very forced smile. I told you before, the mundane things are such a hassle, it's a wonder I haven't been "politely asked to never return" yet. I took a shovel and a pickaxe with me and went to find my favorite chocobo, whom I'd lovingly named Dezba.

In a recent stroke of genius, Cid decided it was a good idea to send out diggers, equipped with their regular digging supplies and a chocobo-pulled cart. He thought this was more efficient and allowed more machina to be examined without losing any workers in the process. Since the agile, weatherproof gifted chocobo were handy, it seemed like a much smarter way of handling certain projects.

After securing Dezba's harness and the machina cart, I took a hold of his reins and led him away from the diggers' tent, into the warming, sandy expanse. I breathed deeply, staring out over the golden horizon with curious green eyes. Even though I thought of this place as my own personal prison, I could never forget how much I loved the desert. It was my home away from Home, after all. What was there to dislike?

"Hey, Rikku," one of the Al Bhed men said, waving at me from the tent.

I sighed under my breath, exasperated suddenly. I turned back, trucking Dezba and our cart back up the small slope. I gestured for him to wait and walked inside the tent, where the man had disappeared to, I assumed. Inside the tent there were construction plans and digging site papers splayed over a sturdy wooden table, several of the men inside learning over the table to examine them differently. When I walked in, clad in little more than a pair of shorts and a bikini top, their work orders suddenly became very uninteresting.

"What did you want?" I asked, trying to stay as level minded as I could, despite the many pairs of eyes that were now slowly undressing me.

"We've been patrolling the area and there have been some strange discoveries," the man said, not nearly as thickheaded as his four companions. He didn't seem the least bit interested in what I had on, or lack thereof. I was impressed.

"So, then what's the problem?" I asked, noticing the semi-concerned frown. "I thought we all liked finding new and interesting things. Isn't that the basis of this dig cite?"

"What we found was not machina. In fact, if I hadn't been so well-versed in survival training, I would easily bet my life that it wasn't a fiend, either," the man said, crossing his arms over his chest, as if to make his point. "There's something buried under that sand, something that does not want us digging there."

"Resting grounds maybe?" I suggested vaguely.

"Cid is looking into that now. However, we're not finding anything in any of the fiend logs or in the reports that were made some five or six years ago. No one is sure what's beneath that sand and what worries me most is that what we have isn't strong enough or fast enough to track its location."

"It's moving around in the sand?" I asked, no longer needing to fake interest. It was genuine. "Now that's something you don't see everyday. A sand fiend—that's wonderful!"

My sudden outburst shocked everyone in the room, one man so much that he fell from his chair. He recomposed himself, but the damage was already done. I had to cough to keep from laughing. The uninterested man fixed me with a look and I immediately lost my enthusiasm, as the reality of his words finally sunk on.

"Going into the desert is dangerous for any of us here. I can't prevent you, of course, but it would be bad manners on my part if I didn't at least try to warn you," he said, placating me with his mellow voice. "All I'm asking is that you don't go worrying your father. He's already up to his elbows in grief—he has to look out for everyone here."

"All right," I said, sounding more like a troublemaker than I had intended.

He raised an eyebrow at me, but said nothing else. When he lowered his head again and had returned to looking over reports, I took that as my cue to leave. I turned on my heel and felt eyes trailing up my legs, pervish thoughts running through the minds. It made my skin crawl, being felt up with their untamed eyes.

Outside again, Dezba nuzzled me as affectionately as he could, chirping happily at my return. I took his beak and pressed it firmly against my body, my hands caressing his feathery face. I looked up into his bright eyes and couldn't help but smile, trailing my fingers against his face one last time, before we headed off into the desert together.

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I took the old man's advice and steered clear of my usual spots—the places farthest away from other diggers, while still remaining in the safe boundaries of Cid's watchful eye. So I just roamed about mostly, digging in random areas for a few moments until I found something. If it was interesting, I threw the hunk-of-junk into Dezba's cart carelessly. On rare occasion, he would chirp his disproval, though it was more indignant than a chirp, which he saved for his moments of pleasure. I guess it was a bird's impression of a growl. That made me smile.

As we walked, my mind drifted—and I say drifted because I sure as hell didn't steer it in that general direction—to thoughts of Paine and Yuna. The mere thought of their smiling faces caused my insides to cringe. Thinking of them in a better place without me to accompany them made me feel alone in the world, more alone than I was willing to bear. A cold block of ice buried itself in the middle of my chest and branched out its cruelty to the rest of me like an evil, possessed tree bent on my destruction. That's another good analogy, right?

I followed behind Dezba, letting him lead me on, my hands firmly attached to his reins. I moved by reaction, not really seeing where I was putting my feet. I wasn't even vaguely aware that I had put my feet somewhere. But I did know that I was walking somewhere with Dezba as my guide. In that thought, I was comforted, until my mind found its way back to those delusional moments of happiness spent at the sides of Yuna and Paine.

How couldn't I have seen it? The Gullwings couldn't have lasted forever. There had to be more to life that finding old spheres about Spira's past, right? But I was content in believing that we would always have one another, even in the aftermath of our inevitable departure. I could accept us breaking up, if we could remain friends. Those two were really all I had; they were another part of my family. Living in a world where they didn't want me—if I had known that was to be my fate, I'd have fought harder to make myself more important. I'd have done just about anything to keep their focus on me. I wanted them to remember me because I couldn't live with myself if I wasn't worth their love anymore.

Yet I was living and breathing and walking around. Barely I reminded myself, but still. I was doing something that was worthwhile; I was doing something that could be defined as me trying to continue in my old ways. It was hard without them, but I managed somehow. I kept moving forward because I couldn't linger in the past. It was too painful thinking of them and how happy we'd once been.

I kept walking and only noticed that Dezba stopped when the reins in my hand caused a slight pressure. I stopped and turned, facing the brightly colored bird. When I saw he wasn't looking at me, I wondered what his focus had gathered on. Returning to the forward position, I suddenly found myself wishing that I hadn't. Apparently, the gigantic monster that the old man had warned me about was an old, ancient sort of fiend…the same one I happened to have run into.

It was an earthworm. Or at least, it would have been, except for the giant metallic black spikes that were poking out from the giant collar it had tightly wrapped around its midsection. Its gaping, black hole for a mouth waited openly, waiting to devour anything foolish enough to get caught and swallowed. When I roared, I had to dodge flying bits of acidic spit that burned itself into the sand. I cringed at the thought of that having been me.

"So much for being careful," I grumbled, immediately taking a defensive position.

From what I could tell, the giant worm was using an underground tunnel system to maneuver through the vast desert. How it found me, I wasn't sure. It couldn't have been from my heat signature; more people would have been "missing." Giving up on trying to figure out its M.O., I found myself focusing on a weak point, of which I found none.

It gave a menacing growl before sinking back into the ground. For something so big, I was impressed at how swiftly and gracefully he moved. Of course, that was immediately brought to a stop when the giant beast reared its ugly head against, plunging upwards into the upper air again. I barely managed to evade his dangerous spikes. I received help from Dezba, who had the sense enough to snag me by the hair and pull me from harm. I breathed my thanks to my companion, trying to keep my mind focused. Fighting this wasn't going to be easy, especially since he had home field advantage.

"All right—let's mix and match," I said, immediately activating my Alchemist dress sphere.

Sure, I was all on my own and Alchemist, a support class, naturally, had to be the only other sphere I had—where White Mage was the other. I was digging. I only ever needed healing and support. Fighting was not an option. Who the hell suspected some thirty-foot mega-worm to attack?

Dezba chirped desperately, snagging my shoulder pad and slinging me out of the way. He dodged easily, whereas I would have been dead meat. The worm had resurfaced again and when he found I was still alive, he buried his massive body back into the sand. Peering up at Dezba, I smiled slightly. Sure, we might die from taking on a worm all on our own, but we at least had to try, right?

I hopped onto his back, kicking loose the trolley of machina and old parts, before we rushed off, in the opposite direction of the digging cite. I would be damned if he swallowed up some of my friends. Apparently, he took the bait; Dezba dipped and dodged agilely, while I spent my time trying to remember mixtures for certain offensive items. I hadn't battled any fiends in so long—at least none that actually required me having to do anything—that I might have been a tad bit rusty. Nevertheless, I wasn't giving up that easily. A Gullwing never gives up!

When the giant fiend thrust itself into the air again, I chucked two Brimstones and an Abaddon Flame at the oversized brute, managing to put him to sleep above ground where he was an easy target for me and Dezba's easy maneuvering skills. Using my heightened abilities, I snagged a Potion and a Bomb Core and combined them in that order. What I saw was a bright and brilliant display of fire mastery, each assault more devastating than the last. I realized why this fiend might have been a problem. Anyone without some sort of mage was in trouble; his thick armor made his physical resistance unbelievably high. To magic, however, he was just another squishy class.

The fiend hunched over. He held all the symptoms of near defeat. I myself was tired out. Sure it looks easy, but fighting fiends and dodging their attacks wasn't so easy as pressing a button here or moving an analog control stick there. It was actual work, I'll have you know. But I was so close to my goal that I could taste it, especially since the adrenaline was pumping itself ragged through my veins, pounding loudly in my ears. I prepared myself for the finishing act to this abominable fiend.

"So who's ready for a little Rikku Surprise?" I said, mimicking my old horribly assigned catch phrases made to match my class and personality. Overall, I had to admit they failed.

I reached into my bag and pulled from it a Holy Water and an Ice Gem. It took me a while, but when I remembered what the combination made, I quickly pulled them together in anatomic harmony before I unleashed the devastating creation on the now dazed fiend. He'd never see it coming, I thought as I chucked the dangerous duality of items at his massive form.

Before I knew it, the sky opened up and white beams of light slashed through the gigantic worm, piercing through his otherwise impenetrable hide easily. I cheered in my tiny victory, unable to contain my joy. It was quickly killed, however, when the strange beast used an unknown attack on me. He shot forth three of his dangerous spikes. Two of them Dezba and I managed to avoid easily, but at the last moment, the beast unleashed an earth-based attack. Dezba lost his footing and I barely managed to lean back and avoid the majority of the attack.

I was hit, however. I was slung to the ground, a large, bleeding gash now marking up my otherwise flawless abdomen. I tried moving, but found the pain unbearable. I immediately assumed I would be devoured alongside my companion, which, when you think about it, isn't really a bad way to go. I smiled at the prospect of not having to leave the world alone. But when I didn't feel myself swallowed up into a bottomless pit, I had to open my eyes, if only to banish the illusion.

What I saw I hadn't expected. Apparently, like the giant Behemoth, this devilish had a kill-finish. Whenever he was defeated, he'd unleash a devastating final attack. I had to admit that if I ever got killed or something like that, I'd want to have one of those. If I'm going, I might as well try to take out whatever fiend it was that tried taking me out too, right? The pyreflies rose up in a swirling rive of light before dispersing, swept away in the sudden wind.

"Rikku! Hey, Rikku!" one of the Al Bhed called, rushing towards me from one of the digging cites, I assumed.

Peering over to where the voice was coming from, I realized I was no longer in any mortal danger. I got to my feet, dusted the sand from my body and walked over to Dezba, who was very happy to see me. He nudged his beak against my face in his friendly show of affection and I returned the kind gesture with one of my own. I smiled at him and he gave me his best impression, which made me laugh.

"Wow! Rikku you were so awesome!" he cheered, his face aglow with excitement. He was little more than a teenager. The same went for his friend.

"Yeah, Rikku! You were awesome! I wish we could be as epic as you! I've never seen any of the other Al Bhed make fiend-fighting look so good," he chimed in.

"Well, when you're good, you're good," I admitted, a glimmer of my old self returning to the foreground. I pranced about happily, bathing in their innocent attention. I listened as they went on and on about how wonderful I was, while slowly walking back towards my things.

"Hey, Rikku—do you think you could teach us how to do that?" the youngest boy asked, his voice pitching with anticipation.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind," I found myself lying to him.

I moved my trolley back into one of my favorite dig cites. Now that things were safe, there was no reason for me not to go back to normal, right? It was then that I remembered my earlier wound, which was slowly gushing a ruby-red liquid down the front of my shorts. The two boys seemed to have noticed. Together, they led me back to a small tent in which we found their mother. She took me to another room and began bandaging my wound.

"Thank you very much, ma'am," I mumbled under my breath.

"Think nothing of it," she said politely, though hers wasn't forced. "Besides, you saved my boys for me. I think I'm the one who should be saying thank you."

After I was all healed up, the woman walked us back to her home, a tiny thing on the edge of the digging cite excavation project. She was well within the realm of safety, despite that tiny little fiend who'd found his way into our defenses. She welcomed me in and I felt compelled to say yet, though I wasn't forcing myself into something I really didn't want any part of. In fact, it felt natural to stay there with that woman and her two sons. So we sat in one room, sipping at some cool liquid or another.

In the same room, the two boys were still going on about my epic-ness, a melody I'd never get tired of hearing. I found myself basking in their attention for nearly an hour, Dezba now resting his head on my chest. I felt welcomed there, like someone actually wanted me there. So I stayed for that reason. Who was I to deny them? It wasn't like I was missing out on anything else important. I wish I could have stayed forever. I would have liked that. But the conversation suddenly took a turn down a road I wasn't allowed to travel.

"Yeah! I bet you she could have beaten that fiend in one round if Lady Yuna and Paine had been there," I overheard one of the boys saying and immediately, I felt the pain swell up in my heart.

I visibly paled and the woman must have guessed the reason, even if her boys hadn't. I got to my feet and quickly excused myself, making up some lie about needing to return my parts to the old man back near the digging project. The woman smiled and walked me to the door, her boys still rambling on about the previous works of the infamous sphere-hunters, YRP. It tore at my heart, my legs buckling beneath me. I couldn't get out of the house fast enough.

That was close, I breathed, the loud clatter of machina parts drowning out the rest of the world's bubbly noises. I wasn't fast enough, however. A painfully debilitating throb rushed through my insides, tearing apart a hole, making it into a much larger, much more painful gash that was not going to be easy to repair. I doubled over in pain before crashing to my knees, my hand still clutched tightly to my chest.

The reason I avoided interacting with others suddenly reared its ugly head. I couldn't bear to think that they were happy without me there. I couldn't process that information properly without causing myself major damage. Knowing that we were in the same world and so many worlds away made my lungs collapse. I didn't want to know that they could be all right with me trapped in some time vortex. I didn't want to know about their lives. I didn't want to ever remember that we had been so close and now we had been reduced to something just barely above acquaintances. I didn't want to know that we lived in the same world like we didn't even know one another. I didn't want to know that in some twisted version of reality, we weren't YRP and we weren't even friends.

I just didn't want to know.

I couldn't bear to know that it was reality, my reality above all else. This was what I was now forced to live with, even if it wasn't something I could ever come to accept. It was the truth. The truth couldn't be denied once it was breathed into reality. That's why I never wanted to think about it. That was my reason for never wanting to talk about it. If I never had to say it, then that maybe it that less true.

Tears swelled up in my eyes and tried my best to wipe them away. What I hadn't expected was the strangled whimper that floated from my lips and exploded into the open air. When the two boys who'd been there to see me in action came to see where I'd run off to, surely they'd find me like this, sprawled out in tears in the midst of a messy pile of machina parts. In fact, that's exactly what happened. Standing atop my pile of machina to see me, their faces filled with worry. From their angle, I could only imagine what they were seeing. My emotion-ridden face must have looked awful as it scrunched up, my attempt to slow if not stop the stream of salty tears. And in this, I shuddered uncontrollably, my mind shattering at the thought of seeming weak in the eyes of others. The last thing I ever wanted from anyone was pity. I didn't want to become a pitiable being. I was too bold for that.

I wiped my face dry with my arm, closing my eyes shut to prevent the flow of any more tears. I didn't want their pity—I didn't earn it. I didn't need it. I was doing all right by myself, I tried to remember. I didn't need that. I didn't need that from anyone. Getting to my shaky legs, I stood tall, despite my somewhat short stature. Turning to face the boys, I did my best to keep from breaking. I succeeded and not even I could tell you how. My dirty face was streaked from where the tears had fallen, but my sullen gaze prevented either of them from asking if I was all right. I sent them away with a determined gaze, only to sink back down into my pile of machina.

Dezba ran to my side and settled down beside me. When I had no one else, I talked to him. I was by myself more than anyone could have guessed. So for me, in my days of depression and my sullen, withdrawn demeanor towards the world, he was the perfect companion. He was there for me when I needed him, his shoulder always there for me to cry on. And now, when I needed him the most, Dezba was there, his head perched on my shoulder as he did his best to soothe me with his high-pitched purring sounds and gentle nuzzling. I fell into him, his strong body the only support I had left to me.

"Dezba," I croaked, the words failing me, even as I tried to murmur them. I could do nothing but stroke his face, leaning against him as I tried sifting through my tumultuous mind, my thoughts scattered about strangely.

I don't know how long I stayed like that, leaning against my sturdy steed. I didn't notice too much of anything until the sun had finally set and the uninterested man from before was making his final rounds, calling in wayward diggers.

"Rikku," he said, standing right in front of me.

When he caught me attention, he did his best to suppress a worried, father-like frown that was better suited for Cid anyway. Instead, he just gave me fussy eyes that urged me to my feet. I stood there under his gaze, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other as I had nothing better to do. I refused to meet his gaze, knowing that I wouldn't like what I'd see in his swirling green pools. He reminded me too much of Cid as it was, I didn't need any further reminders.

"This morning, when we talked, were you listening to anything I had to say? I thought I told you to be careful."

I knew he was looking at the large, white, sand-smudged bandage now adorned on my upper-left side. I cringed under his scrutiny, as if his penetrating gaze was causing the pain to blare loudly and resonate its threat throughout the rest of my body. I felt my legs buckle from the pain, but I used Dezba for support, which he must have noticed. He merely turned away from me and went back to making his rounds. Sighing in relief at his departure, I turned a happier smile to Dezba, who cheered loudly at this, leaping several inches off the ground.

"Are you ready to go home?" I asked him, running my fingers through his golden halo of soft feathers. He chirped again, his melodious tune filling me up with joy. Climbing onto his back, I smiled happily and stored my tools into the satchel on his right side. "Let's go," I said to him, leaning forward to wrap my arms around his neck.

The wind whipped through my hair like a joyous torrent of emotion. I felt myself smile, a rare feat that I only seemed capable of in the lacking presence of people. With Dezba, I found it was rather easy to let go of my inhibitions and just live in the moments I spent with him. I found that it was much easier that way. Living from moment to moment was too painful; it required too much forethought. I didn't have the patience.

We arrived at the tent too quickly for my liking. When the wind stopped whipping through me, I knew it was over. I dismounted and turned to Dezba with a furtive glance. He chirped again, knowing what my shifty eyes were implying.

Cid was impartial to chocobos. He understood that they were agile, strong birds and could only ever understand their ability to benefit his plans. He thought, at first, that my reason for liking them was the same. However, when he saw Dezba in my room one night, he and I had a firm talking over, or whatever you call those sorts of things. He explained to me that even though Dezba was "my" chocobo, that didn't give me the right to have him on the ship. Of course, who ever listens to what their parents have to say?

I snuck Dezba on behind me, knowing everyone else had already headed to bed. He followed behind me like the thought-obedient, like-minded companion that he was, nudging me along when he knew that no one was waiting for us around the corner. We made it to my room, where I was greeted with a black expression, usually hidden behind a body suit and mask. In my room was Shinra, sitting contently on my bed, as if he'd been waiting there this whole for me to come back. In his hand, there was a bundle of something I couldn't quite see.

"I was wondering if you decided to skip out on us," he said casually.

He sat there on my bed, swinging his legs happily over the edge, as though he hadn't broken into my room and invaded my personal privacy. I was a girl after all' there was no telling what was going on in his dirty little mind. I shuddered at the thought and that made me indignant. How dare he go snooping through my things! I later realized how easily I could jump to invalid and completely unfounded conclusions with just the tiniest bit of information. I guess that's a bad trait?

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked, forgetting to pretend to be the real Rikku. I was livid at him for poking his nose where it didn't belong.

Holding the letters in his hand up, he said, "I…found these. I've been collecting them for you. I thought you might want to read them."

"Who asked you?" I snapped, immediately regretting the tone of my voice when he jumped slightly, recoiling from the venom so noticeably tingeing my voice.

But he didn't say anything. He got to his feet and made his way for the door, pausing for just a moment to put the collected letters atop my dresser. He walked right past me, his heavy breathing the only other sound aside from Dezba's flitting wings. When he stopped, his hand was on the doorknob, half turned, almost as if in the middle of it all, a very peculiar thought came to him. That might have been the case, given the awkward angle at which he turned to face me.

"Running away from your problems doesn't solve anything. In fact, it very well makes the problem that much worse," Shinra said. Even though I couldn't see him, I could feel his bright Al Bhed eyes glued to mine. I trembled in that knowledge. "You can run away for as long as you want, Rikku, but eventually, your problem will catch up to you. There's no way someone as small as you can run away from something so astronomical. It's impossible."

"I didn't ask for your help," I whimpered, my voice on the verge of cracking.

"Real friends don't wait to be asked," he said, the door closing behind him.

I moved towards my dresser and skimmed through the letters. When I saw familiar names of those few people I hadn't needed to block out, the letters fell from my hands in flutteringly slow swifts. My hands shook in the absence of something to hold. My companion squeaked his concern and had to stop me from breaking through the wall. With his large, worried brown eyes boring into me, I came crashing back to Spira.

Lulu, Wakka, Kimahri had all sent me letters, multiple ones and had been doing so for nearly a year. I'd done the same with them, the same as I'd done with Paine and Yuna. Slowly, as they made their lives worthwhile, I let them in less and less until finally, I didn't want anything to do with them. I stopped writing to them altogether, figuring that it was better than being so very dishonest with people who didn't deserve as much. It was painful living a lie and it was even more so having to write it all out on paper. So I didn't. Instead, I avoided them and tossed their letters away, acting as if I'd never gotten them.

I'd forgotten about them honestly, both the letters and the people who'd sent them to me. It was easier that way I kept reminding myself. It was easier, in the end, to act like none of us had ever crossed path. In truth, I acted like they hadn't been apart of my life, either. I knew that was silly, but I tried to put off my pain, if only for a moment. Looking at them now with Dezba beside me, I couldn't pretend anymore. They were there, somewhere in the world, just like me. No matter how much I wanted to deny that fact—no matter how much I avoided making it real, it was there—the truth was staring me in the face.

Dezba chirped quietly beside me, smashing his face against cheek in an affectionate way. He caught me by surprise, but I quickly regained my composure. Grasping at him for support, I buried my face into the side of his neck, trying my best to fight off the tears that stung at the sides of my eyes.

"Why can't I keep it together? Why can't I just…forget?"

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Author's Note: Hello everyone. I hope you enjoyed the second chapter. If Rikku seems a bit depressed, remember there is a reason for this. Like I've previously mentioned, she feels a tad out of stock with her two best friends acting like she doesn't exist. Wouldn't you? Now, onto the next chapter.

It would mean the world to me if you would review and give me your honest opinion. Thank you.