When we got back to the Red Rose, it felt so good to take off the ridiculous party gown and let my hair down. I changed into my usual gold leotard and brushed my hair smooth, then went to find Zidane.

He was standing out on the rear quarterdeck when I located him, leaning against the railing there with his tail swishing back and forth slowly. He seemed a million miles away in that moment.

Hearing my approach, he turned – and quickly donned a bright smile. But not quickly enough.

"You're not fooling me, Zidane," I muttered morosely.

He toned the grin down to about half-power as he opened his arms for me. Even out here in the wind, he was warm.

"I never could fool you," he replied softly. "Maybe someday I'll succeed."

I didn't like the tone in his voice. Something was wrong. Had the party-gossip stung him so badly? Zidane had always seemed so resilient. He'd never given a damn – excuse my language – what anybody thought of him… Unless, of course, that person's opinion meant something to him. I somehow doubted those women in Treno fell under that category in Zidane's mind.

"Why don't you come inside?" I asked.

"I will," he replied. "In a bit. Right now I just need the fresh air."

I pulled away from him and tried to read his expression – to no avail. "Very well," I said at last. "I'm going to get some sleep."

His mouth smiled, but not his eyes. "Sounds good. I'll be in soon."

He didn't kiss me like I'd expected him to. Instead I rose to my tip toes and kissed him… but something was wrong. His lips were tight, thin – totally uncooperative with mine.

When I dropped back to my heels, he immediately turned his back on me again and resumed staring off into the distance. I sighed quietly, then turned to head back into the ship.

As I headed to my cabin, a sick feeling settled in my stomach. This was not like Zidane at all. My mind reached and stretched for an explanation, but nothing fit as well as the simple explanation that his feelings had been hurt – and badly.

With that in mind, I pulled back the bedding and crawled between the fresh white linens. I thought the blame and worry might keep me up all night, but the gentle creaking of the airship lulled me to sleep almost immediately.

I might have assumed Zidane had come to bed and risen early – except that, when I rolled over, I found his side of the bed still neatly made. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes and looked around the room. Empty.

After a few moments of worrying and contemplating, I swung my feet off the bed and set about getting dressed. When I was ready, I stepped out of my cabin with caution and again went hunting for Zidane.

He was not anywhere on deck, nor at the helm. That left only the crew cabin.

I knocked first, but there was no answer and, so, I let myself in. It was there I found Zidane – sprawled face down and an arm and a leg hanging off the side of a bunk. He was still in his clothes and boots, I noted. For a moment I watched him sleep, hoping he might wake up on his own. He didn't, so I left and had my breakfast alone.

Not having much of an appetite, I managed to nibble away half a slice of toast and sip down a cup of tea. I was pouring myself another when the sound of Zidane's hard-heeled boots approached. I turned in mid-pour, nearly spilling over my cup, and offered him a nervous smile. He did not smile back.

Running a hand through his hair, he sauntered toward me slowly and, without a word, took the seat beside me. For a moment he just stared at the table.

"Hungry?" I asked.

He patted his stomach. "Yeah. I haven't eaten since noon yesterday."

"Help yourself. I'm not going to be able to eat all this."

I sipped my tea in silence while Zidane ate. There was a nervous air about him that, in turn, made me nervous. It was all I could do not to demand that he explain himself. In truth, my guilt was the only thing keeping me from doing so.

"Zidane, I really can't apologize enough about the party."

He looked at me, his eyes suddenly wide. "It's not important," he said then. "Please… don't apologize to me."

"But I-"

"Stop!" He slammed his hands down on the table, then sat perfectly still for a moment with his eyes closed. I'd unconsciously flinched away from him and was now forcing myself to straighten. When his eyes opened again, we exchanged a brief glance at one another. Then, without warning, Zidane stood and walked away.

But I was in no mood for being kept in the dark. Something was off here, and it had more to do with us than it did with that damnable party – excuse my language.

I set my cup down on its saucer, blotted my lips with my napkin and leapt after him.

"Zidane, what is going on?" I shouted as I rounded the corner. He stopped walking, but didn't turn to face me just yet. "Tell me why you're acting like this all of a sudden."

"There's nothing wrong, Dagger." His tone was lighter now, but it sounded forced. "I'm going to go get ready. We should be landing in about half an hour."

I let him go this time and spent the next thirty or so minutes in my room repacking my overnight bag. For the remainder of the flight, I sat cross-legged on the bed. Even as the ship descended, I found I'd lost all desire to be away from home.

Finally the captain's voice came over the horn, requesting that I disembark. I slid off the bed, grabbed my bag, and headed for the door. We'd landed just outside the forested canyon surrounding the village and I spotted Zidane some hundred paces out calling for the chocobo he'd trained.

At last the golden bird trotted into view and dipped its head for Zidane to caress it. Despite myself, I felt a tinge of jealousy watching the tender way he handled the chocobo after practically pushing me away the previous night. In a few moments, the bird loped up to me, with Zidane mounted sturdily on its back.

"Hi, Choco," I cooed, stroking the large beak. Zidane reached down with one hand and pulled me aboard. He said nothing as we rose into the forest.

It wasn't long before the silence overwhelmed me and I said the first thing that came to mind. Well, perhaps not the first thing.

"I can't wait to see Vivi."

Zidane nodded. "He'll be glad you've come."

"And the genomes," I continued. "I'll be interested to know how they've adapted to village life."

"I think you'll be impressed," Zidane commented back.

Shaking my head minutely, I gave up trying to have a conversation and spent the remainder of the ride lost in dark thoughts.

When, at last, the village was in sight, I was eager to dismount. I slid off the chocobo even before Zidane had reigned him to a halt and rushed toward the village. Vivi was waiting for me and now came running toward me clumsily. He tripped and fell, but quickly pushed himself back up just in time for me to pull him into a warm embrace.

"Vivi! It's so good to see you!"

"Dagger! I missed you."

"I missed you, too," I said. "I'm sorry. I should have visited sooner."

Then his glowing yellow eyes spotted Zidane and he stood suddenly very upright.

"Hello, Zidane."

"Hey, Vivi. What's up?"

Vivi shook his head. "Mikoto's waiting for you at her place. You should go see her."

"Alright," Zidane nodded. "I'll be at Mikoto's place."

I watched him stride past us before turning to Vivi. "The village looks as lively as ever," I noted aloud. Mages and genomes bustled about the place and I noticed several new huts had been built to accommodate the latter.

"Come on," Vivi said softly. "Let's get you checked in at the inn."

I could not help but notice, as Vivi led me through the village, an air of discontent among the villagers. I had expected a warm welcome from the mages, but they seemed to be avoiding me, skirting away as I approached.

"Vivi?" I asked as we stepped up onto the porch outside the inn. "Is there something I should know?"

"I… I don't know what you're talking about."

Vivi was a terrible liar, but I knew I'd never be able to work the information I needed out of him, so I dropped the matter.

I paid the innkeeper for a three-night's stay and took my bag into the room. Despite the mystery swirling about the place, I could not help be lulled into relaxation by the comfortable and quaint surroundings. Vivi had followed me into the room and watched me arrange my things.

Suddenly voices could be heard through the window. I strained my ears to listen.

"I do not understand why you have not told her about this." Mikoto's voice?

"How could I tell her?" Zidane, now. "If she finds out… she'll never speak to me again."

"Then why bring her here? Have you any idea how difficult it will be to hide this?"

"I will tell her," Zidane said. "I just… have to find the right moment."

Vivi suddenly stirred. "I'd better go," he said, quickly making for the door. "See you later, Dagger."

When he was gone, I stood for a moment trying to hear more of the conversation. But it seemed as though they'd moved on.

I didn't know what to feel. Zidane was hiding something from me – something big. I wanted so badly to trust him – to convince myself that, whatever it was, he had good reason to keep it from me. Even so, tears suddenly welled up in my eyes and I threw myself onto the bottom bunk and cried into the pillow for a long time.

Zidane, how could you lie to me?