35: The Big Game

"Mmm…" Rikku surfaced from her deep slumber, feeling loose and relaxed. She rubbed her cheek against the soft bed sheets, and her memories fell into place with a mental bang. "No way!" she yelled, sitting up and tossing the blanket off her shoulders.

The door to her room burst open. "Rikku! Are you all ri – OH!" Braska spun around, his face flaming.

Behind him, Jecht gave her a thumbs up. "Nice underwear, but you might wanna cover up. I don't think Auron wants everyone appreciatin' that view." He dragged Braska away and shut the door.

Braska's comment, "It is a very nice view..." came through, loud and clear.

"...And this is the story of my life," she groaned, spotting her clothing and her pack stacked neatly nearby. After dressing in her blitzing gear, she threw her robe on, and slammed the door open. Braska and Jecht jumped.

She glared at them and pointed at Braska. "Don't interrupt a girl's beauty sleep ever again," she warned him, scowling. She turned to Jecht, ready to say her piece, when she caught sight of his outfit. "...What the heck are you wearing?"

"It's a blitzin' uniform! You like it?" He'd ditched the plated gauntlet and pauldron on his left arm for two blitzer's half-sleeves, though his chest was still bare. Gone were the suspenders and flapping orange sash, replaced with a pair of baggy grey swimming trousers. He looked like a native Spiran Blitzball player.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but you look good," Rikku admitted. "Like you mean business."

Jecht smacked his palm and cracked his neck. "If we're gonna crush 'em today, we've gotta dress the part. C'mon, get yourself geared up already!" he added with a touch of impatience. "Auron better not have worn you out last night!"

Rikku's appreciation withered into irritation and she stomped towards the closed bathroom door. Thinking of Braska's intrusion, she knocked before reaching for the knob.

The door opened and Rikku looked up into Auron's face, her arm still extended, but now making a beeline towards a very bad idea. Or a good one. She yanked her hand back, face flooding with color. "Umm!"

He stared at her for a moment, then stepped aside. "Good morning, Rikku." His stern expression softened as she fidgeted, her flush growing by the second. "Did you have pleasant dreams?"

Rikku squeaked. Then she narrowed her eyes at him. "Now that's just mean."

"Mine were very vivid," he continued, quiet.

Rikku squeaked again, her knees turning to jelly. "Not fair," she whimpered.

"Revenge is best served cold." He smirked, drawing back, and raising his voice. "You should prepare yourself for your game. You seem a little distracted."

Jecht snorted.

Braska coughed. "Auron! There's no need to be cruel."

Auron raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever seen two cactuar mate? Well then, keep your opinions to yourself." He smiled.

"Ugh! You're impossible when you're in a good mood!" Rikku scowled, entered the bathroom, and slammed the door on his face.

His laugh chased her.

Performing her morning ablutions, she was filled with a giddy warmth. She splashed her face with cool water from the basin and stared into the mirror.

She didn't look any different. I didn't actually sleep with him, she told herself, wondering why she felt as though something had changed. The memory of his hand trailing down her back surfaced, and she suppressed a shudder. But, he gave me something more precious than that. Rikku caught sight of her goofy smile in the mirror, then slapped her cheeks a few times in annoyance. "The things that guy does to me," she muttered, trying to calm down.

When she exited the bathroom, she found the others seated around the low table in the center of the room, deep in discussion.

"Good, you're here," Auron told her in his business voice, pointing at an empty chair. She hurried to join them. "Tell us now what you discovered, my lord."

Braska sighed and clasped his hands. "I'm not exactly certain that it's bad news. Apparently we have mostly been labelled as heroes."

"Mostly?" Auron repeated.

Jecht slapped Braska on the back. "Stop bein' modest, man! They're sellin' Braska as the biggest damn hero this side of the Moonflow!" He shook his head. "The way they told it, you'd think he singlehandedly took that monster down without even summonin' anything!"

Braska shifted uncomfortably. "That is – "

"As it should be," Auron said, cutting him off. Then he frowned. "But what of the rest of us? I can't imagine Wen would have let this go, not after the way we parted."

"Oh, there are rumors flying about the three of you as well," Braska told him. "But the only one they can seem to agree on is that I managed to save the day with the help of one Sir Auron, Legendary Warrior-Monk."

Bafflement spread across Auron's face. "Legendary? I was dishonorably discharged and stripped of my rank by Mika himself."

Braska shrugged. "Kinoc must have pulled a few strings, because now, records show that you requested an honorable release from your duties to support my Holy Pilgrimage." His lip curled in distaste. "Also, he was promoted for his actions during the battle."

Rikku shuddered. "He's going to be the worst Maester ever."

"Let's hope it never comes to that," Auron replied darkly. "What about Jecht and Rikku?"

"That's where it gets all sticky, right?" Jecht said, leaning forward. "The crusaders are in our corner, and are makin' noises now about usin' Al Bhed machina to fight Sin 'cause it worked."

"Bevelle must be overjoyed," Auron grunted.

"It helps that you were both seen blitzing yesterday. That goal Jecht scored made quite the impression, on more than just the crusaders." Braska smiled at Jecht. "If they are referring to me as the Champion of Djose now, you are a perfect fit to become the Hero of Luca. I believe a few of the crusaders even referred to you as 'sir.' "

"Sir Jecht." He rubbed his chin and grinned. "I like that sound of that."

"Don't get too excited," Auron reminded him. "It doubt it was sanctioned, since the last time Bevelle saw you, you were incarcerated. They can't be happy about this development."

"Sanctioned? We're Guardians, not press releases. We don't need Bevelle's blessing to do our jobs." Rikku frowned. "...And do I even want to know what they're saying about me?"

Jecht shuffled his feet.

Braska cleared his throat. "...No, I don't believe you do."

"Mika would sooner declare a holy war than approve of an Al Bhed Guardian," Auron said. "Especially as it's you; I doubt he's forgotten what you did in Bevelle."

"They are willing to overlook Jecht's presence in light of my sudden and unexpected ascent," Braska joked before his mirth disappeared. "But we are still a long way from accepting your people into our fold. I am so very sorry."

Rikku waved off Braska's sympathy. "Forget it, we don't want to be folded in," she scoffed.

He sighed. "It may be best to leave before our faces become too familiar here. I wouldn't want to confront an envoy from Bevelle."

"You're saying we should run while we're ahead, right?"

Jecht frowned. "Can we at least finish our game today? We promised the Fangs we'd help 'em out. They need us, man!"

His passion made Rikku wonder how much of his motivation was professional pride and how much was his undeniable soft spot for the Ronso. He really is just a tough guy with a chewy center.

"We can't abandon them, ya know?"

"Yeah," she cut in. "I don't care what Bevelle thinks about me. We're in Luca! I wanna win at least one game before we leave. And who knows when Jecht'll be able to blitz again? Let's stay for a little while longer, pretty please?"

Braska sat back. "I suppose it might help. Were Mika to send emissaries to intercept us, it would still take them days to arrive. In the meantime, well." He smiled. "Good publicity never hurt anyone, and there is no better place to garner that than here."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Auron asked Rikku. "You will be affected the most, whether or not this ploy succeeds."

He's putting me first! She grinned. It froze when Jecht and Braska snickered, and she blushed again. How can Auron act cool as a cucumber with all of their teasing?

Auron seemed to be ignoring the pair, though there was a certain set to his face that hinted at something more…

Wait, he's laughing! Rikku squinted to be certain. He's laughing at them! Her mouth dropped open and Auron's eyes crinkled. Give them a show, huh? she thought, grin growing. "Oh, I'm pretty sure I know what I want. Just one more game here, then we'll pack it up. Watch us again? Please?"

"As you wish," he said.

"Oh thank you!" she gushed, throwing herself into his lap. He grunted in surprise, but his hands automatically settled on her hips. She dug her nose into his neck.

" 'Ey! Stop slobberin' all over one another! We get it already!"

Giggling, Rikku turned head towards Auron's ear. "There's something I need you to do today," she whispered, and he stilled. "I need you to find a bookie for the tournament."

"What?" Auron asked, suddenly looking ready to push her off of his lap.

She tightened her grip on him. "Oh, don't be shy now," she said, batting her eyelashes at him.

Braska sighed. "I would tell you two to get a room, yet here we are…"

"This had better be good," Auron rumbled.

"I want you to bet on the Fangs today," she whispered. "I told you I was gonna take care of our little money problem. This is our ticket!"

She felt, more than heard, Auron's sigh. "You want me to gamble." His murmur carried a resigned undertone. "Without Braska's knowledge."

"Just a little. Do you trust me?"

Auron rested his head against hers. "Against my better judgement. Fine, I'll do it."

"Thanks," Rikku said, leaning back to look at him. "Not just for this, but for last night, too. I'll treasure it."

A flicker of emotion passed behind his eyes, before he bent to kiss her on the lips.

She flailed a little, conscious that they weren't alone, but Auron only deepened the kiss, one hand moving to the back of her head and the other tightening around her thigh. Her embarrassment faded as the feel of Auron flooded her senses: the rough texture of the coat her fingers curled into, the cool slide of his leather armor as she pressed against it, and the gentle warmth of his lips at odds with the searing heat of his fingertips.

Her mind reeled even as her body reacted; I didn't know it could be like this.

Finally, he released her. She lay her head against his chest, awareness returning very slowly.

Auron's breath left him in rough pants; he seemed as surprised as she by the unexpected intensity of their play-acting. If it could be called that; the electricity between them wasn't a game anymore.

She jumped out of Auron's arms, feeling guilty that they'd given Braska and Jecht such a show – all jokes aside, she knew Auron enjoyed his privacy. "Uh – " She started to apologize before trailing off. The other two were nowhere to be seen. "Where'd they go?"

A small cough came from the doorway. Braska stuck his head in, expression wary. "If you two are finished, we do need to check out of this hotel. Wonderful as it was, I'm not certain we could afford two nights in a row here."

"Wow," Rikku said, wishing she could stop blushing. "Wait – you've been taking financial lessons from Auron?" The sheer incongruity of the thought was an effective distraction from her mortification.

Auron laughed and turned away. He seemed to be adjusting his coat. "Go on, I'll be with you shortly."

Making her way towards the door, Rikku snickered at Braska. "You worrying about money. Did your masseuse do something to your head?"

Braska started to protest, but Jecht pushed him aside. "Are you ready yet? C'mon, c'mon! We're gonna be late!"

Rikku rolled her eyes. "It's not me who has to be ready. Are you sure this plan is gonna work?"

"Oh, ye of little faith," Jecht scoffed, grabbing her wrist and dragging her along.

Rikku whimpered in dismay, shooting a longing look at the paternoster.

"We ain't starting off the day by smellin' chocobo piss in that deathtrap of an elevator," he grumbled, pulling her to the stairwell. "Now, less whinin' and more believin'!"

"Fine, fine, I'm moving." Huffing, she shook her arm free and followed him. "You do know the Al Bhed aren't that religious, right?"

They reached the lobby, Auron and Braska bringing up the rear. Auron made his way to the reception desk to settle their bill. Braska gave them an encouraging smile. "I wish you both luck. It's not the end score that matters, after all, only that you gave it your best."

Rikku put her hands on her hips. "You make it sound like we've already lost!"

Auron rejoined them. "It's not the end score that matters? That's not what he was shouting at the sphere screen yesterday," he commented. "Enjoy yourselves today. Try to win. And do not worry about the money," he added, directing a significant look towards Rikku. "Even should things not work out as planned, we will be fine without your fame and fortune to guide us. We've managed this far."

Now everyone was looking at Auron as though he'd sprouted a chocobo pinion from his head.

Jecht stage-whispered to Braska. "I told you he would be cool about stuff if he got laid."

Rikku kicked him in the shins.

"We'll be watching the game in the stadium today," Braska said. "Our presence has been all but demanded in the luxury suite. We are to make just as much of a public appearance as the both of you."

"Wonderful," Auron bit out, scowling.

Braska blanched. "Perhaps we'll stop by the vendors first. We may need to pick up a pair of sunglasses for Auron before he uses that expression on an innocent bystander."

"Hnn."

"Yeah, I see what'cha mean," Jecht noted. "Cold, man. You're givin' me the shivers!"

Rikku giggled. "They'll look good," she offered. "You'll go from "dismembering them with your eyeballs" to "super cool badass" in no time flat! Doctor A the Chillmaster!"

"You're being ridiculous," Auron told them, although his scowl softened. "We'll meet at Dock Two when everything's done. The S.S. Pualu is anchored there; we've already reserved cabins on the ship." He tipped his head at Braska. "Let's go."

Jecht cracked his neck. "Us too. We're don't wanna miss our ace, Blondie."

Exiting the hotel, the group parted ways, Rikku and Jecht hurrying towards the stadium.

"You think he's really gonna show?" she asked as they jogged up the steps leading to the team cabins.

"He'll be here," Jecht said with conviction.

The only thing Rikku could see as she approached the entrance, however, was a mass of fur and yellow swimwear. The Ronso Fangs were gathered in force, including their two hostile benched members. Every single expression was disturbingly fierce. The pack of Ronso faced them, giving the impression of an impenetrable blue wall.

"What'd we do?" Rikku mouthed to Jecht, breaking out into a sweat.

"Hell if I know," Jecht replied, watching the group. "Think I should've brought my sword?"

Gazna stepped out of the line. He stood there for a moment, contemplating them both. Then he dropped into a deeply respectful bow. "Gazna hears news of battle on Mushroom Rock. Ronso Fangs honor Guardians."

In perfectly coordinated tandem, the team mimicked their leader.

"Eh-heh-heh-heh." Rikku pulled her goggles over her eyes and glanced around – people were staring. "You can get up now. Really!"

"Damn!" Jecht said. "If you guys could show this sorta coordination underwater, we'd have it made!"

Gazna straightened, and the team behind him dropped out of their formal poses. "Gazna hears word of Sir Jecht. Ronso must learn new ways to adapt to new world. Fangs try hard today."

"Fangs win game! Fangs win tournament!" added Zamzi with some heat, leading a chorus of approving yips and growls.

"Whoa," Jecht said, rubbing the back of his head. "Great spirit, team, but we ain't gonna leave things up to chance this time. Gimmie the lineup!"

Gazna raised his arm, and the team split into the targeted positions. "Left forward Jecht! Right forward Rikkma! Midfield Gazna!" He paused and lashed his tail, then began again with less enthusiasm. "Left defense Irga. Right defense Zev. Goal defense Zamzi."

"Right. Here's what we're gonna do," Jecht said, and pointed at Irga. "Little lady, you're warmin' the bench today. Not that you ain't good, but, uhh…"

She isn't good, Rikku finished. "But we have a secret weapon!"

Low murmurs rumbled through the other Ronso, but Gazna silenced them with a raised arm. "If Irga not defense, Fangs lack player. No sixth, no team." He squinted at Jecht. "What is weapon of Sir Jecht?"

"See, well, looks like he's a little late…" Jecht hedged.

Rikku tapped him. "No he isn't! Look!" She raised her arms and jumped up and down. "Tio! Tio! Over here!"

"Ooh, yesh. There yoo are." Tio ambled over slowly.

Hypello. On land, Rikku reminded herself, watching the vendor sway and bobble his way to the Ronso crowd.

He finally shambled to a stop before Jecht. "Yoo wish-ish-ish to blitsch, yessh? Tio ish here." Tio bobbed his head, blinking his enormous yellow eyes.

Zamzi snorted. "Sir Jecht bring pre-game snack?"

Tio brought his large webbed hands together and wriggled his fingers. "Or yoo wish to buy a schweet roll? Tio can give yoo a schpeschal prische."

"I think Zamzi was talking about Tio, not the rolls," she whispered to Jecht.

"Alright now, settle down," Jecht said, giving the agitated Ronso a stern look. "Tio's gonna help us take care of the left field." He turned to the Hypello. "You got that? You're the left defense. Hell, and offense, if you want. Can you handle it?"

Tio's head wobbled. Rikku figured that was as close as they were going to get to a Hypello "yes."

She looked at Gazna; in the end, it was really his team and his call. And as far as she knew, no one had ever signed a Hypello to a Blitzball team.

Gazna studied their new companion for a moment, and then nodded his head. "Gazna will trust Guardians. Irga, bench. Tio is left defense." He paused. "Hypello also need gil?"

Tio waved his hands. "Tio hash already been p-p-p-paid!"

Gazna grunted. "Welcome to Fangs. Play with honor." With that, he marched into the cabins, the other Ronso following. Tio trailed after them, albeit at his own, slow pace.

"That went well," Rikku said. "But I didn't know we were the ones paying for Tio's services. How much gil did you promise him?"

"Gil?" Jecht laughed. "Nothin'! I just promised his nephew a brand new blitzball with a signed autograph from yours truly!"

"That's it?" Rikku balked. "He's playing for a blitzball?"

"With my autograph," Jecht emphasized. "The one and only Hypello Hero of Spira! His nephew lives in the Moonflow. He's a fan." He held up a hand, which Rikku dubiously slapped.

"Isn't that sorta like stealing? Even we're getting a salary, you know." Although it's diddly squat.

"This, comin' from a thief!" Jecht answered her. Then he grinned. " 'Sides. You know how these Hypello love water. We're gonna crush 'em! Just you wait an' see!"

.x.x.x.

The walls of the open-air stadium suite magnified the day's heat. A breeze blew through the stifling box, bringing with it a moment of relief.

In the middle of the platform, Braska had the dubious honor of sitting in the ostentatious throne; it was also the seat most mercilessly exposed to the burning sun. He'd already removed his helmet and was fingering the collar of his multi-layered robe. "This is terrible," he murmured to Auron, who stood at his side.

"At least you have a seat," Auron grumbled, spreading his legs and placing his hands behind his back. He'd stubbornly refused to remove his overcoat and sword, but a telltale ring of sweat beaded across his forehead. "You'd think they could make their guests of honor more comfortable."

"I'll trade you my seat for those glasses," Braska replied, fanning himself with his hand.

"Hnn," Auron refused. "The game will start soon. Once the outer sphere rises to contain the stands, the water should disperse some of this heat."

"You are just enjoying your new sunglasses," Braska ribbed. Auron coughed into his fist.

A low whine echoed over the stands and both men winced; static crackled, and then the buzz faded into the familiar-sounding Blitzball anthem booming across the stadium.

"Morning, folks! It's another bright and sunny day in Luca!"

"Perfect weather to mark the start of the annual Spira-wide Blitzball tournament! What number are we on now, Bobba?"

"I think this is the nine-hundred-and-thirty-fourth tournament, but who's really keeping track? We all know what we're here for, Jimba!"

"That's right, to blitz! And there's bound to be some good action in our first match of the day. It's everyone's favorite furry darlings, the Ronso Fangs, kicking things off with their unique style!"

Auron sighed. "Must we to listen to this drivel for the entire game?"

"It's not that bad," Braska chided. "I find the announcers to be very informative. This is the most interesting thing that has happened since we arrived in our torture chamber."

"Interesting doesn't always mean good."

"The Fangs are doing better than expected," Jimba said. "They managed to score more than two goals yesterday! A first in their team history!"

"But, it was a big day for the Aurochs, too! That exhibition game was their first win in three years. A badly needed morale boost for one of the worst records in the league! Can they keep that momentum for the rest of the tournament?"

"We'll have to see when they play the Luca Goers later today, Bobba. For now, we're here to watch the Fangs, who've drawn the Al Bhed Psyches as their first opponent!"

Auron twitched, and Braska looked at him in concern. "Is this bad news?"

Grimacing, Auron thought of the crumpled betting slip tucked away in his pocket. "The Psyches are expected to win the tournament this year. So yes, this is very bad."

The announcers continued to banter. "That's a bad break, Jimba. The Psyches are known for both their speed and superior Blitz tactics. They're one of the best teams in the league right now, and a favorite for the cup."

"You're right, Bobba. The Fangs may be known for their monstrous strength, but they're the slowest team in the league! Once again, this game is looking pretty hopeless for our under-cats, even with the new talent they've recruited."

"You know, I heard through the grapevine that those players are actually part of a summoner's entourage! In fact, that summoner is here with us today! Say "hello" to Hero of Djose, Lord Braska!"

The gigantic stadium screen across from them flashed, and the Blitzing logos shifted to a live feed of the luxury box.

Braska and Auron both stiffened. The crowd hushed, and Braska carefully donned his helmet. Auron pushed his glasses up and stood very still.

"You don't say! It's not often that we see a summoner's party in the stadium. And having Guardians playing in the tournament, no less! What's the story on those two?"

The screen flickered before showing a closeup of Jecht and Rikku. Past game statistics scrolled below their faces.

"Well, rumor has it the man called Jecht was instrumental in helping summoner Braska turn Sin away from Luca!"

"We've been promoted to driving back Sin now?" Auron repeated in disbelief.

Braska was in a similar state. "That is a bit much. I am uncertain of how they expect us to match with these caricatures of ourselves."

Auron growled. "They don't expect us to; they expect us to die trying."

"All the more reason to succeed then, is it not?" Braska hummed.

The screen switched to a recording of Jecht performing the Mark III. It replayed in extreme slow motion, showing his perfect form, hair swirling around his smirking face. In the stands, more than a few women screamed.

Jimba continued. "Between his battlefield heroics and his incredible agility in the sphere pool, he just might be a legend in the making! Let's hope we see another one of his magnificent goals today before the Fangs get smothered by the Psyches!"

The crowed roared, and a few chants of "Sir Jecht!" could be heard.

Braska smiled. "I think our plan is working. I told you this endeavor would prove worthwhile for those two."

"You bring up a good point, Jimba. What about his companion, Rikkma?" The screen switched to the replay of the five-man breakthrough Rikku had suffered in the exhibition game. This slow motion video relayed her obvious grimace as the Aurochs tackled her and stole the ball.

"Although, I hope she is not watching that," Braska amended.

"We've never seen an Al Bhed free agent going head to head against the Psyches before. Everyone knows they like to stick together! Do we have the dirt on that?"

"There's been some hot debate about the mystery lady. Being in the presence of a summoner didn't stop this cutie from using some fierce forbidden machina during the battle with Sin!"

Another murmur rippled through the crowd, though it was hard to say whether it was more admiration or outrage.

"Well, Bobba, I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"Neither is Bevelle, Jimba, but we're not here today to debate the Teachings! What we do know is that she's an excellent passer, with all the speed you could expect from an Al Bhed blitzer. She may just be enough to give Jecht the opening he needs to make a shot today!"

"So, you think the Fangs have a chance this time, Jimba?"

"Not in hell, Bobba! Now, let's have a quick word from our sponsors!"

Braska turned to Auron, annoyed. "I am beginning to agree with you about this commentary."

.x.x.x.

Rikku treaded water, waiting for the horn to sound. Across the field, Tio was swimming in lazy circles; he seemed bored. She redirected her attention towards their opponents – the Psyches – thankful that none of her family members were on the team.

Cid was a huge fan of Blitzball, and naturally, his children followed in his footsteps. Brother showed the most promise, but was too young. Keyakku, however, was a shoe-in. Or, he would have been, if he hadn't been more interested in finding lost machina with Cid's Research and Recovery Division.

As it was, the opposing team was unfamiliar – and hostile. One of the Psyches' forwards drew a thumb over his throat in greeting.

Rikku stuck out her tongue and sent him a one-fingered salute.

The blitzoff sounded, and there was no more time for posturing. Gazna tried to catch the ball, but his opponent snatched it first. The Al Bhed passed the ball to the left side of the field – apparently they'd tagged the Hypello as the weakest link.

Yes! Rikku thought, watching Tio dart towards the ball to intercept the pass.

Then she gaped – losing a few precious breaths of air – when Tio stopped and broke away, leaving the Psyche's receiver to catch the blitzball.

Recovering, she shouldered past the player trying to block her – Throat-Slitter, she was going to nickname him – and landed a quick kick to his stomach for good measure. We're screwed. If the Psyches get past Tio, we don't have a defense! Jecht apparently thought the same, abandoning his position to swim towards the ball.

The Psyches were busy, getting into their own formation. The receiver spun, passing to their forward. It was clear they expected to make a goal within the first few seconds of play.

A blur of blue slammed into the shooter, knocking the ball from his possession. Zev grabbed the loose ball and passed it to Gazna.

Rikku grimaced. Here comes another long shot, she thought, trying to guess which Psyche would return the ball after intercepting it. Gazna caught the pass, shrugged off the Psyches' defenders as if they were paper, turned, and hurled the ball in her direction.

Shocked, Rikku caught the pass and began to swim in earnest. Wow, they really did listen to Jecht! Scanning the field, she spotted the man in question and prepared a long pass for him. She went spinning as she was tackled from behind.

Throat-Slitter had caught up and clearly wanted revenge. Keeping a death grip on the blitzball, Rikku bared her teeth and attempted to evade him. He was quick enough to grab her ankle; she struggled to free herself. Light reflected off a pair of metal knuckles when he raised his other hand.

He punched her, splitting skin. Her calf screamed in protest as she kicked him off and swam away. That was totally a foul! Why isn't anyone ringing the buzzer on this jerkwad?

Gazna came to her rescue, punching Throat-Slitter and sending him sailing to the bottom of the sphere pool.

With a nod of thanks, she located Jecht, and swung into a rapid spin for a pass.

Dizziness hit her. Not now! Reaching her target speed, she launched the ball – somehow, in the right direction. Jecht prepared the Mark III, but rather than watch him execute it, she inspected her calf.

Four shallow, diamond-shaped puncture marks marred the skin, weeping blood into the water. Messy for sure, but it shouldn't have broken her concentration. Suppressing another wave of nausea, Rikku glared at Throat-Slitter. Poison, really? She couldn't even cure herself – status changing equipment was strictly forbidden, and every eye was on her and Jecht.

Although, judging from the lack of a foul, none of those eyes were giving her a fair chance.

Thinking quickly, she unwound her scarf and wrapped her leg. She knotted it tightly, trying to slow the flow of poison, and turned her attention back to the game.

Jecht finished his final kick, and the horn blared as they scored the first goal. Smiling, Rikku returned to her starting position, her arms feeling sluggish. As the rest of the Fangs took their places, Jecht eyed her leg and raised his eyebrows. Rikku pointed towards the center of the arena, where Gazna was kneeling on the starting platform. Later, she motioned.

The blitzoff sounded, and Rikku held herself back, trying to find an advantageous position. Her head was pounding; if the Psyches were playing dirty, she'd be better off keeping the contact with them to a minimum.

Once again, Tio had the opportunity to intercept the ball, only to shy away at the last moment. She frowned. Jecht's ace in the hole is turning out to be just as much of a flop as Irga was.

The Psyches regained possession of the ball, but Rikku was too far – and too weakened – to try to assist the Fangs.

The Psyches punted a goal past an enraged Zamzi just as she was tackled from behind, again.

Furious, Rikku flipped head over heels and wriggled free of her attacker: the goalie. The Psyche Girl put a hand under her chin and flicked it at Rikku. She twisted and swam back to her position before the net.

Clenching her teeth, Rikku tried to contain her rising temper. I get it already, she thought, assuming a more defensive stance. She'd known the Psyches would be hostile; after all, she was the Al Bhed Guardian of one of the most hated men in their clan.

Still, fiends tearing at her was something Rikku was prepared for. Having other humans – her own people – doing it was different. She told herself the leaden feeling in her stomach was simply the venom.

The horn sounded and the Psyches again took possession of the ball. But, rather than pressing an assault, they passed it lazily between themselves. Seconds later, the buzzer sounded for halftime.

Thank machina! Rikku forced her aching arms and burning lungs towards the locker rooms.

Once inside, she limped to her belongings and rooted through her pockets, finding an antidote and downing it. "Ugh, that tastes disgusting," she muttered, tossing the vial aside and reaching for a healing potion to chase it down.

Jecht was on her immediately. "What the hell happened, Blondie? You just ran outta steam halfway through the set!" He pointed at her leg. "Those bastards do somethin' to you?"

"Poison," Rikku replied, removing her goggles and wiping at her eyes. "I'm not exactly their favorite person right now."

Zamzi snarled, making her jump. "Psyches have no honor!" His tail lashed like a whip.

Gazna approached. "We have bigger problem. Hypello no good." He was hauling Tio along, one fist wrapped around the Hypello's suspenders. He lifted Tio into the air like a struggling fish. "Gazna say we eat."

"Let meeee g-g-gooo!" Tio said, slapping his webbed fingers at Gazna's wrists. "Tio can blish-blish-blitsch!"

Rikku leaned down and unwound her scarf, inspecting her leg. "I don't think that's Tio's fault," she said. "The Psyches are playing dirty. You noticed, didn't you?" In hindsight, it was the only explanation for his behavior that made sense.

Tio stopped struggling and focused one eye on her. "Yesh," he said. "Tio doeshn't want to be hurt! Pschyches are b-b-baaad peoplsches!"

"You Fang now! You show no fear!" Gazna bellowed, shaking Tio before dropping him. "Rikkma get hurt, still play. Hypello shame Fangs!"

Tio swayed. "We areshn't like y-yoo," he stammered. "One hit, and Tio ish du-du-dusshshht!"

"Is that all?" Jecht cut in, crossing his arms. "Gimmie a break! That just means don't get hit, right?"

Tio blinked at him.

Jecht smiled and clapped the trembling Hypello's shoulder. "Relax, man. You got this one. I've seen your nephew play." He paused. "I think." He slapped Tio on the shoulder again. "You guys are the best swimmers in Spira. Even better than me! Takes a pro to know one."

Tio straightened. "Yoo really shink shoo?"

"I know so!" Jecht corrected him. "Ain't nobody gonna catch a Hypello that don't wanna be caught. Stop playin' head games and get back to the real one! Go for that ball and keep it away from them Psyches. They can't play dirty if they can't play, right?"

Gazna grunted in approval. "Ronso strong." He considered for a moment. "Zev protect Tio. Gazna cover Rikkma." He looked at Jecht. "Jecht shoot. Untie score!"

Zev nodded. "Captain!"

"Yeah!" Rikku cheered, standing up to dance in place. "We won't let those Psyches bring us down, right guys? Let's win this thing!"

Tio bobbed his head with renewed confidence. "Tio will tr-tr-try!"

Jecht looked at Rikku, his smile widening. "Ya hear that, Blondie? Sounds like the Fangs finally got themselves a real captain here." Turning to Gazna, he gave him a firm nod. "Yessir! Shoot like crazy!"

Ganza stepped towards the arena portal. He raised a fist. "Fangs blitz!"

.x.x.x.

"Well, Jimba, this is big surprise. So far the Ronso have managed to hold their own against the Psyches, despite every sign pointing against them!"

"That's right, Bobba, and they're even playing at a one-man disadvantage. I don't know whose idea it was to throw a Hypello into the mix, but they've set their sights on making the most diverse Blitzing team Luca has ever seen."

"And we got to see another one of Jecht's amazing shots! That alone made this match worth it, wouldn't you say?"

"Indeed. Although it's a pity Rikkma isn't performing up to snuff today. She may have been affected by an injury from a previous game, which would make it more of a two-man loss for the Fangs."

"I guess you could say Sir Jecht is worth more than two men, Jimba! Or maybe just one Al Bhed and a Hypello. That isn't really saying too much, is it?" Bobba chuckled.

Braska clenched the arms of his chair, smile plastered on his face. "I don't suppose it would help anything if I were to summon right now," he commented idly.

"It would be a wasted effort." Auron remained immobile at his side, his face impressively stoic. "They don't broadcast from inside the stadium," he added with a hint of regret.

"The game's starting again," Braska noted, leaning forward. "Do you think they have a chance?"

Auron studied the sphere pool. "They're doing better than I expected," he admitted. "Even with the tricks the Psyches are using. Somehow those two managed to rally the Ronso."

A pained look crossed Braska's face. "The Psyches are targeting her because of me."

"Rikku is a grown woman. She can take care of herself."

"That's not the point," he snapped. "It isn't fair that she must suffer for my sake. I should be the one out there."

"Doing what?" Auron snorted. "Learning how to blitz so you could take those attacks in her place? You don't think your Pilgrimage is enough?"

Braska shifted in discontent. "I know it is impossible, but I never wished to be the cause of any more suffering. Maybe this was a mistake. We should have departed this morning."

"She is doing this for you," Auron said. "Rikku doesn't need to be there; Jecht would be fine on his own. Don't cheapen her decision by denying her the chance to fight for you."

"But – "

"No wound inflicted on her here will be greater than the one you deliver yourself, in the end."

Braska bowed his head.

The blitzoff sounded, and as usual, the Psyches gained possession first.

Auron cleared his throat and turned into the announcements.

"... the strangest thing I've ever seen!" Bobba shouted. "The Ronso captain isn't even trying to hold the midfield! He's positioned himself next to Rikkma and – oh, wow! Did you see that hit, Jimba? I think the Psyche's forward will feel that one tomorrow!"

"Yowch! Rikkma and Gazna have taken possession of the ball! If I don't miss my guess, she's going to pass it to Jecht – say, what is that?"

"Looks like a pass, Bobba, but not one I've seen before. She's putting some kind of spin on it, and – no! She missed Jecht! She's giving that ball away to the Psyches!"

"What an incredible mistake! This could be a game changer, folks. The Psyche's receiver has the ball! He's launching an attack on the Fang's goal!"

"Wait a minute, Bobba. Something's happening. Did you see that? What's he doing?"

"He's slowing down, Jimba! It looks like Rikkma put something in that pass! It has all the marks of a Wither pass, but I've never seen one that effective so – no! He's swimming in the wrong direction! And Zev Ronso is on him! Oh, that looked painful."

"They're grappling!"

"It's a fumble, a fumble!"

The crowd screamed.

"I don't believe it, Bobba! The Hypello has the ball! The Hypello has the ball!"

Auron surged forward, and Braska leapt from his chair. Half of the stands were on their feet as well, shouts of disbelief sounding through the stadium.

"I can't track him, Jimba! He's on the left – no, the right – no, above! The Psyches are in a complete panic! They can't keep up!"

"This is incredible! Not even a Guado can match that speed! I can't spot the ball!"

"There! There! He's handed the ball off to Jecht! The Fangs have a clear shot!"

"Jecht's going for it! I've never seen that technique before, either! What a kick – look at the spin on that ball! It'll take a miracle to stop it!"

The horn blared, and the crowd went wild.

"I don't believe it! The Ronso Fangs are in the lead! The Fangs are leading in the second half of a game for the first time in history!"

Auron almost couldn't hear the announcers over the crowd losing their collective minds.

Braska gripped Auron's sleeve, leaning forward – any further and he'd tumble over the railing. "They scored!" he shouted.

"It's madness, Bobba, sheer madness. The blitzoff is happening and – the Hypello is at it again! Look at that, the midfielders didn't even have a chance! He's got the ball!"

Braska let out a chuckle. Then another, and another. He collapsed into Auron, roaring with laughter.

"It looks like the Hypello put that one in himself!" one of the announcers screamed as the crowd – almost impossibly – grew louder. "That's a new goal record! Fourteen seconds after a blitzoff! This is turning into a slaughter!"

"I have never seen the Al Bhed Psyches so completely outclassed. Let's see if they can turn it around with this blitzoff – no! The Hypello scored another goal, Bobba! He scored another goal!"

"Hnn," Auron said as the final horn sounded. "I should have made a larger bet."

Edited 8/16

The pass Rikku makes is Wither Pass 3. Too high level for this stage of the Blitzball game ;)