53: Sword Saint

As soon as the dense crystal woods of Macalania had given way to the rocks and moss of the path towards the Calm Lands, Jecht had challenged Auron to a spar.

"You're goin' down." Jecht bounced on the balls of his feet, grin competitive.

Auron's expression was glacial. Silent, he pointedly turned his blade, blunt side facing up.

Quite a distance away, Rikku readied her bag of mixed nuts, popping one into her mouth and munching on it. Braska sat beside her and waved off the pouch when she offered, his attention instead focused on Jecht and Auron.

"Who do you believe will win this time?" Braska asked as the pair began to circle each other in the small, dirt-strewn clearing.

She shifted, trying to find a comfortable spot against the tree they were both leaning against. "Auron's going to wipe the floor with him, like always. The only gamble is how long it'll take."

"You're not concerned at all? Fighting against a Celestial Weapon seems foolhardy. Even if it is Jecht's." Braska fingered his staff, tense. "Sin's Fang should be significantly more powerful than Auron's blade and has no blunt side. What if he catches Auron off guard?"

"Jecht needs to learn how to control his super-sword," she protested. "It's better if he practices with a friend instead of making a mistake in front of an enemy, right?"

"Hmm," Braska said, clearly unconvinced as he glanced her way.

"Besides," she continued. "Auron's got his armor on. And you're here, right?" She winked at him. "You saved me, after all. If anything happens, helping Auron recover should be a piece of cake."

An uncomfortable look passed over Braska's face.

She smirked—revenge could be sweet, sometimes.

He cleared his throat, suddenly unable to meet her gaze. "Well then. Shall we make a small wager?"

Side-eyeing Braska, she leaned away from him. "I'm not kissing you if Auron loses. Give it up."

"Fine." Chuckling, he raised a hand in defeat. "...Although I do think having the use of your Garment Grid for an entire day would be an acceptable compromise."

"No way," she blurted. The last time he'd used it, he'd just hit on her even more, something she hadn't thought possible.

"Are you worried about Auron's chances after all?"

Her brow twitched. "How's this: when Auron wins, you and Jecht have to catch dinner for the rest of the week."

Braska shrugged. "We already split the duties. That hardly seems a sporting prize."

"Then…" She tapped her chin, then snapped her fingers. "You guys do the hunting for an entire week, starting tomorrow. And you have to pretend to be incompetent enough to keep Jecht from coming back to camp for at least two hours."

Braska's smile dropped. "Are you two really that starved for affection—"

A sharp clang sounded, cutting off his words. She glanced over in time to see Auron and Jecht springing back from one another. Eager to watch the fight, she hurriedly shoved her hand towards Braska's face. "Deal?"

He leaned back, nearly going cross-eyed in an attempt to track her hand. As the ring of clashing metal whined behind them, his gaze lit up in challenge. He clasped her hand and gave it a perfunctory shake. "Deal."

They were both invested now, and he made no argument when she released him to turn her attention to the spar.

Auron leaned forward, holding his sword steady and advancing towards Jecht like a predator, his steps slow and controlled. Jecht scooted back, light on his feet. Before he could be pushed to the edge of the clearing, he lunged forward, attacking with two quick slashes which Auron deftly blocked. They backed away and resumed circling each other.

"Look," Braska said, gaze sharp. "I told you it would be difficult for Auron this time."

"Difficult? He totally blocked it!"

"Just barely."

She stared at the pair, looking for whatever Braska thought he was seeing—

Auron's sword was quivering. Huh? She followed the sword to his grip, and her eyes widened. It wasn't his sword that was moving; it was his arms. They were shaking—only slightly, but enough for Braska to catch it. Just how hard did Jecht hit?

"The power of a Celestial Weapon must be mighty indeed," Braska noted. "I've never seen Auron falter from a parry before."

Huffing, Rikku crossed her arms. "Auron's blade isn't half bad either!" She'd crafted the Ashura herself during their trip on the Love Boat; so what if it wasn't Celestial? It could still kick ass in the right hands. "He's gonna win. You'll see."

Auron's expression gave nothing away; instead, he twirled his sword once, shaking his arm out, then sunk into a low battle stance. Inching towards Jecht again, he held the blade steady in both hands and looked almost relaxed.

Jecht mirrored his pose, waiting. For a few moments the men stood, appraising each other, before Jecht hefted his sword; Auron tracked him with his weapon and Jecht faltered, stopping midway through the motion.

With a grimace, Jecht stepped back, seeming to find no opening in the other man's defense.

"Jecht's improved," Rikku conceded, watching him abort another attack. "He wouldn't have waited before… he'd just rush in and Auron would send him flying. He's gotten more cautious."

Jecht finally followed through on a quick feint, forcing Auron to evade the blow.

"What, you actually scared of this thing?" Jecht called out, some of his confidence clearly returning as the tense line of his shoulders relaxed a bit. He made a few wild thrusts, testing Auron as the other man strove to dodge rather than block the hits.

Auron's mouth tightened and he planted his feet, stopping Jecht's advance and stabbing out with the Ashura in challenge. The two swords met, and Auron caught Jecht's blade in a defensive twist that deflected the Fang.

Jecht, however, only grinned and surged forward. "Gotcha!" he shouted as his fist hit Auron's jaw with an audible crack.

Auron reeled backwards, off-balance while Jecht jumped into a spinning kick; his foot smashed into Auron's side and pushed him even farther away.

"Hey! That's cheating!" Rikku sputtered, clenching her fists.

"There are no rules in a real battle," Braska reminded her. "Jecht is merely capitalizing on his own advantages—he's faster and larger than Auron… and very good at brawling."

Auron regained his balance and struck out—not gracefully by any means, but enough to force Jecht to skip away from the blade's reach. He struck again.

Jecht used the Fang to block Auron's swing.

This time, Auron didn't try to match and hold Jecht; he slid forward out of the block and attempted to use the momentum to smash the other man with the pommel of his sword. Jecht was quick enough to dodge the strike, leaning to the side while directing another quick hit towards Auron's stomach.

The two men separated, panting.

"Yield?" Jecht called out, swinging his sword over his back in a mocking parody of Auron.

Auron scowled. "We'll go again."

Braska shook his head. "Jecht prevailed in that round and had Auron on the defensive." His faint smile oozed satisfaction. "So, when will your belt be available for my use?"

"It's not over yet," Rikku said stubbornly, watching Auron wipe his jaw and spit.

Auron nodded at Jecht, lifting his sword again and resuming his slow pacing.

"We shall see," Braska said in response.

Ohh! Just you wait, Braska. Auron'll show you who's boss!

As if able to hear her thoughts, Auron struck; without warning, he flicked the Ashura out, aiming the tip at Jecht's face. Jecht nearly missed his parry, clumsily bringing Auron's sword down with brute force and trying to rush in close again. Auron turned his own sword upwards, unexpectedly baring the sharp edge of his blade—which forced Jecht to abort his attempted punch, and instead stumble past while arching backwards to avoid being sliced.

Jecht wheeled to a stop a few paces away, wincing. "Ya nearly cut me, asshole!"

"That trick won't work twice. Besides, I thought you wanted to show me the power of that sword, not your fists."

Jecht scowled, holding the Fang up in a high guard. "Fine. You want it so bad? We can play it hard." He charged; Auron didn't move, steady as a rock.

Even if Auron's nerves were made of steel, her own weren't, and Rikku squeaked as their blades neared one another. Auron simply crouched beneath Jecht's stab and swung his own weapon up, stopping the tip a hair's breadth away from the other man's neck.

Jecht froze, gulping, and Rikku's heart dropped out of her throat.

Auron raised an eyebrow.

"Y-yield," Jecht said. Auron relented and lowered his sword. "This was more fun when you weren't usin' the business end of that thing."

Sighing in relief, Rikku stretched her arms over her head, letting Braska bathe in her smugness. "Jecht's sword might be stronger, but Auron knows how to use his."

Braska rolled his eyes, probably swallowing a lewd joke. "Still, if Jecht managed to land a serious blow, it would be fatal for Auron. That is the power of his weapon."

"That's probably why Auron's not letting him land any hits," she said. She smiled, sending Auron a thumbs-up when he glanced their way. I wonder if I had anything to do with his new strategy? It was, after all, pretty much the only technique she ever used when she fought: do anything to avoid getting hit!

Of course, Auron did so with grace whereas she looked like a drunken monkey.

"Fascinating," Braska said.

"What?"

He smiled wistfully, shaking his head. "You believe in him completely, even without a Celestial Weapon. You would defy heaven's mandate and put your faith in a mere mortal warrior?"

She scoffed. "What mandate? Having a fancy weapon doesn't automatically mean you win! Celestial Weapons only amplify what you already are. Mine didn't make me a better fighter either, you know?"

"You stood against Anima with it."

"And lost," she reminded him, incredulous. "Leaving things up to fate isn't all it's cracked up to be. You still need to work for your victories if you want to have any." Her smile suddenly felt brittle; the words may have come off flippantly, but they still hit a little too close to home.

Braska must have sensed the sudden dip in her mood, because he eased away from her, his playful smirk transforming into something more somber. "True, I suppose." He tapped his lip, expression thoughtful. "But having a stronger weapon than your opponent lends some advantage, no matter what you believe."

She dug into her snack pouch and popped a nut into her mouth, chewing slowly. When she felt composed enough to answer, she swallowed and forced a smile that felt more genuine than she'd hoped. "Sure, but Auron doesn't need a stronger sword." Her gaze was drawn inexorably back to Auron as he shifted his stance and faced Jecht again. "He is the sword."

Jecht was the first to attack, springing forward with a quick thrust. Auron twisted out of the way, dodging instead of blocking, and thrust his blade towards Jecht's head.

Jecht's eyes widened and he swore as he desperately moved to cover his face, his sword meeting and locking with Auron's.

Auron bore down on both swords, the muscles in his arms straining.

Jecht seemed to be searching for an opening, but the awkward tilt of his wrist against the Fang's hilt made it impossible for him to find leverage.

With a grunt, Auron forced their blades towards the ground and then leaned his full weight onto the Fang with one knee, trapping Jecht's hands under the hilt of his own sword. There was an audible crunch.

Rikku heard Braska suck in his breath at the same time she did. "Ooh, that must've hurt."

With the Fang immobilized under his knee, Auron freed his own sword and feinted with his pommel towards Jecht's head.

"Yield! Shit! Yield!" Jecht shouted before Auron could club him. "Alright, alright, you win!" He wilted when Auron lowered his sword. "Sin's wrinkled ass! Ya broke my fingers!" he hissed, shaking out his hands after Auron stepped away.

"Sorry," Auron said in a tone that was all but apologetic.

"Yeah, yeah. How're your teeth doin', huh?" Jecht shot back as he collected his sword gingerly, wincing.

Rubbing his jaw, Auron grunted. "You could say we're even now."

"Naw," Jecht said, shoulders drooping. "Once I stopped tryin' to clock ya, you kicked my ass. I gotta practice more." Then, he let out a self-deprecating laugh. "You may win every time, but I still ain't used to losin'."

Auron held out a hand, then helped him to his feet. "You did better than I expected, and your sword is a fine weapon. If we met on a battlefield, I wouldn't take you lightly."

"You wouldn't take me at all," Jecht scoffed, cracking his neck. "I'm fast enough to get away from monsters like you." The defeated grin he was wearing belied his words, though; even Auron seemed to understand that his pride was running on fumes.

"He didn't really do that badly," Braska said, watching Jecht with concern.

"You're right, but it's good for his ego to lose once in a while," she said, confident that Jecht would bounce back from his latest defeat just as quickly as the last time. "Before you know it, he'll be heckling Auron for another duel, you'll see. And then Auron'll beat him again. Think of it as their male bonding time."

"Hnn," Auron said, clapping Jecht on the back. "You certainly are faster. You just need to train using that speed with your sword rather than your fists."

"Bonding," Braska replied thoughtfully as he looked on.

Leaving Jecht behind, Auron approached them, wiping some sweat from his brow.

"Enjoy your quality time with Jecht next week," Rikku murmured to Braska, chuckling as she rose to meet Auron. Skipping the last few feet between them, she threw herself at Auron and planted a messy kiss on his lips. His arms wrapped around her waist and she felt him smile; he lifted her up and gave her a proper greeting.

"Do you two gotta swap spit right in front of me?" Jecht groaned as he shambled past.

She slid to the ground with a grin. "Not always," she hummed.

Braska sighed pointedly and left toward camp, shoulders slumped.

She smiled up at Auron, hands latched behind his neck. "That was intense!"

Auron pried her off gently and smiled, tired; it didn't reach his eyes. "Hnn." He shrugged off his coat and followed Braska, tossing his things by their bedrolls before grabbing his bottle for a long draught of water.

She watched him, confused. What? Why'd he pull away?

He finished drinking and, after a moment's contemplation, snatched up his sword and stomped back towards the clearing where he'd just sparred with Jecht, sullen.

" 'Sup with him?" Jecht asked, coming near as he toweled sweat off his neck with one hand; the other was limp at his side, fingers beginning to swell. "He won, didn't he? You say somethin' to him?"

Rikku crossed her arms, pouting. "I didn't do anything! You're the one who punched him."

"That was a lucky shot," Jecht grumbled. "But y'know, he's been actin' real crabby lately. I thought fightin' me might get it outta his system, but… "

She considered his words; Auron's prickly attitude just now was the latest in his admittedly withdrawn behavior ever since they'd left the crystalline forest. "I know," she said, deflating. "He's been like this ever since we got back from the shrine."

They both stood there in silence, and Rikku knew Jecht was thinking the same thing: He saw something up there.

But what could be so bad to make him act like this?

Well, she had called it their male bonding time, and Jecht was right there. As dejected as he might feel about losing to Auron—even with his brand new toy—she knew he still cared about his friend's well-being.

And friends don't let other friends stew in their own juices, right?

"So…" she said. "About Auron's temper…"

"Woah, don't put this on me!" Jecht blurted. "You're his girl!"

"You're his bro," she retorted. "Bros before hoes!"

" 'ey, I just punched him!" Jecht reminded her, mopping away more sweat. "You do the askin'."

Rikku bit her lip. "Fine. He did almost take your head, so you can have a break. I'm gonna try talking to him. Run interference on Braska for me, will you?"

"On it," Jecht agreed, shoving her forward with an elbow. "Go on, straighten him out. I'm rootin' for ya." He raised his voice. "Hey, B! Need some help here. My fingers are killin' me!"

Braska startled and strode over quickly, brandishing his staff. "Which ones?"

Rikku rolled her eyes as Jecht smirked and flipped his middle finger out towards Braska. "Think it was this one." He made a show of looking confused, then held up his other hand and doubled down on the gesture. "Or maybe this one. Why don'tcha take a closer look and find out."

"…Doesn't that hurt?" she asked, noticing the lines of pain creasing Jecht's mouth.

"Totally worth it," Jecht smirked.

"Is it now?" Braska asked, lowering his staff from its casting position. "In that case—"

"Naw, B, I'm kidding—"

"I think I'll make my exit before Braska breaks the rest of your fingers," she said, scampering after Auron and stifling a snicker when she heard Jecht yelp in pain behind her.

Her feet slowed as she neared Auron, who'd planted his sword into the center of the impromptu sparring ring and was staring at it morosely. What's he doing? Is this some kind of warrior-monk meditation technique? If it was, it was a terrible one; he didn't look particularly relaxed or calm. "Hey," she said cautiously, reaching to touch his arm. "What's the matter?"

"It's nothing."

Oh, no you don't. Sliding between him and his sword, she put her fists on her hips and glared. "It's not nothing. Spill the beans!"

Auron looked over his shoulder at Braska and Jecht, still near enough to hear their argument—and vice versa. "Not here," he said quietly, reaching around her to grab his sword.

"Hey guys!" she yelled, raising her voice and smirking at Auron's look of annoyance. "We're just gonna go clean up. Don't follow us!"

Braska made a face. "You can't even wait until tomorrow—" he started, but Jecht pulled him down into a headlock and gave her a thumbs-up.

Auron palmed his face. "Did the concept of discretion completely pass you people by?" He motioned for her to follow.

She saluted Jecht and Braska, then trailed after Auron, feeling a little apprehensive. Something was upsetting him enough to make him sulk, and she couldn't get a read on what it was. After all they'd been through, it was a little unsettling to find that he could still have his own secrets, too.

The irony wasn't lost on her.

They walked until the camp was out of sight, stopping by a small stream of water. Auron walked to the water's edge and unbuckled his chestplate, letting it fall to the mossy ground. He sent her an austere look. "I hope you realize I'm not in the mood for any games right now."

"I know," Rikku mumbled, kicking the dirt. "I'm not gonna jump you out here. I just thought you looked upset and maybe needed some space."

Auron said nothing, kneeling by the stream and rinsing his hands in the water.

Might as well go for it. "Auron… what did you see at the shrine?"

His hands stilled. "Nothing," he said after a moment.

"You're a sucky liar."

He huffed, but kept his face turned from her. "Nothing worth mentioning." Carefully, he cupped some of the water in his hands and brought it to his jaw with a grimace; his skin was darkening into a mottled shade of red where Jecht had struck him.

"You should've asked Braska to heal that first," she tsked.

"I'll handle it," he replied. Muttering, he traced his fingers over the bruise. A spark of curative magic flared to life under his fingertips, fading the discoloration.

"And your side, too," she added, prodding his ribs with her toe and nodding sagely at the resulting hiss of pain. "Jecht got you good. Don't grin and bear it if you can heal it!"

"I can decide what I'm capable of bearing," he grit out, though he did pass his hand over his side too.

"Why won't you just say it?" She crossed her arms and frowned when he didn't answer right away; it felt like he was trying to distance himself from her again. "Hey, c'mon! Aren't we supposed to be a team?" His lack of answer made her flush, first in disappointment, but then in anger. It's way too late for you to back out now, buster! "I can't help you work through whatever this is unless you talk to me."

Grunting, Auron stood and reached for his sword, stepping away from her. "There's nothing to work through. Jecht bested me. I need to practice. That's all."

You still won, she thought, but swallowed it down at the stubborn look on his face. Backing away, she hauled herself onto the branch of a nearby tree and made herself comfortable, not bothering to mask her exasperation. "Practice away then. I'm not going anywhere."

"…Fine. Suit yourself," Auron grumbled, straightening and holding his sword to his side with its point facing down.

Though annoyed at his dismissal, she found her irritation ebbing away as she was drawn into his moves.

He thrust his arm out, fingers held tightly together. His palm turned up as he swept his arm across his chest, the move a strange mix between meditation and martial arts. His fingers separated as he brought his hand low to grasp the hilt of the Ashura.

He drew it in an explosive whirlwind of motion, leaping into a spin before landing, knees bent and legs spread wide. The heavy sword was balanced in one hand, its weight resting on his back shoulder while his free arm remained outstretched, up in guard—or perhaps a promise—for his invisible opponent. He paused, focusing.

She was fascinated by the way he could control his every movement so perfectly. Her own fighting style was chaotic, to say the least; self-taught and reliant mostly on improvisation and speed. His strict, regimented motions were almost the exact opposite of hers—at least unless she was donning the Samurai sphere. It was clear he'd trained hard to achieve that level of mastery.

Maybe that's why we work so well together as a team when we fight, she thought with satisfaction.

Gripping the hilt with both hands, Auron swung the sword around in a wide arc. The weapon stopped perilously close to his neck, and he relaxed, balancing it on the opposite shoulder. Crouching low, he bent back, as if dodging an attack while sweeping his sword out in a one-handed slash that made the muscles of his arm bulge from the effort.

Rikku swallowed, her mouth going dry; she knew how much that sword weighed; she'd made it. Even with the strength enhancement she'd tooled in, she could barely swing it. Auron managed to control the blade as though it was one of her daggers, stopping it with uncanny precision.

He leapt up in another show of raw power, quads straining, and transformed the movement into a downwards slice, followed immediately by a quick block and a feint to his side. He gouged tracks into the moss with his feet as he slid backwards from the force of the motion; then he dug his heels in. Forcing his slide to an abrupt stop, he pushed off of the ground.

She wiped drool off her lip. Not the time. Be supportive now, lust after him later!

His entire body launched into the air, one leg outstretched in a roundhouse kick, whipping the sword overhead in a one-handed grip. He barely touched the ground before he was airborne again, legs scissoring and his entire body twisting for momentum as his sword made a gleaming arc above his head. He landed heavily, carrying the force of the spin through in his strike, though he stopped the blade inches away from actually hitting the ground.

Abruptly shifting his weight to his front leg, he struck out with the weapon as though it were a spear, pausing with both arms fully extended as the blade quivered.

Straightening, he twirled the sword around to one hand to rest at his side, its tip facing the ground. He exhaled heavily, then looked up into the tree at the sound of Rikku's claps.

"I didn't know you could do that," she said, sliding off her branch. "You know, all the jumping and kicking and stuff while holding your sword. You can be just as flexible as Jecht when you try."

"But not nearly as spontaneous," Auron replied, walking over to join her and carefully putting his sword aside. "Besides, this was merely practicing forms. Real battles aren't performance stages. I fight to win."

"I dunno," she hummed, settling herself on the ground. She patted her lap invitingly. "You're the best swordsman I've ever seen. I always think it looks like you're dancing when you fight. Are all warrior-monks that good or is it just your thing?"

He chuckled, slumping to the ground and resting his head against her legs. "I preferred training to politics. As it turned out, I had to train quite often in order to avoid them. And I wasn't entirely successful in the end."

"You shot yourself in the foot, you know," she mused, unwinding the tie on his hair. "You got too good and they couldn't ignore you anymore."

"Hnn," Auron agreed, his eyes fluttering shut.

She carded her fingers through the sweat-soaked strands, eliciting a contented sigh. "You're amazing, you know," she murmured. "I'm glad you're with me."

Some of the tension she'd managed to draw out of him returned.

Bingo. So, it's about me, huh? She forced her fingers to slow and coax him into speaking.

"I know what you're doing," he rumbled, keeping his eyes closed.

"Is it working?" she asked, hopeful.

"...Yes," he muttered with token resistance. Sighing, he reached up and caught her fingers, stopping her ministrations. His eyes cracked open, dark and serious. "I was wrong," he said, then stopped.

"Mmkay," she said as the silence stretched. "For what now, though?"

Auron's fingers laced through hers. "The shrine showed me a vision of the future."

This time, Rikku tensed, but Auron kept his eyes on her and tightened his grip around her hand. "I don't know if it was real. You said it showed you your greatest fear and your greatest desire." He paused. "But, I only had one vision."

"Which one did it show you?" she asked, pulse thundering.

"They were one and the same," he replied. "I saw you."

What's that mean? Swallowing, she forced a tiny smile to her face and tried to act casual. "How'd I look?"

"Happy," he said. "You were surrounded by family."

Rikku blinked. "My family? Like, Cid, Keyakku, and Brother? Was I five?"

"Our family," Auron corrected her, his fingers squeezing hers. "And no, you were not five. We were living in Besaid. You, and I, and our children. I… was happy, too." He sounded surprised. "I didn't think I would be happy."

"You don't want kids," she said, feeling her hammering heart slow down, although only slightly. The blind panic that he'd caught a glimpse of Yuna's Pilgrimage faded, only to be replaced by a growing sense of confusion. "You made it sound like your worst nightmare, really."

He looked away from her. "I don't want to become a father. Braska and Jecht are fathers. I can't be like them."

Rikku scrunched her brows together. "I think it's different for everyone, though? It's not like you'd have to follow in their footsteps. How would you know until you tried, anyway? I bet you'd figure it out."

"I couldn't abandon my children," he said suddenly. "Not the way they did. Purposefully or by accident. It would kill me." He swallowed. "I don't shirk my duties, but this... this makes me afraid. I grew up alone. I couldn't wish my childhood on anyone. Especially not to my own children. I couldn't make another me."

"Who said they'd be alone? I'm a part of this too!" She extracted her hand from his and worked her fingers through his hair once more, soothing him. "Besides, you wouldn't leave," she said confidently. "Not unless you had a good reason to."

"You can't be certain," he said. "Not in this world. Not with Sin. But…" he trailed off and returned his gaze to hers. "It was strange. It was the first time it felt like family to me."

"Braska and Yuna—"

"No," he cut her off. "Not a stray intruding onto someone else's hearth looking for scraps. This was mine." He caught her fingers and pulled her down towards him. "My family. Mine alone." He reached up and pressed his mouth against hers, warm and insistent, as though he was trying to send himself into the future he'd seen through the touch of their lips.

When he drew back, he brushed a stray braid away from her face, his expression pained. "I want to believe in it. More than anything. More than defeating Sin. I have never wanted anything so much as this."

Rikku bent down and touched her forehead to his. "You're scared," she said softly.

"I am," he admitted.

"Then let's be scared together, 'cause you're never getting rid of me now." She smiled at the open, fragile expression on his face, tracing a finger down his cheek. "I don't mind being your dream, you know. It's kinda flattering." Besides… you were mine first.

"I don't want you to be my dream," he countered, echoing her thoughts at the shrine. He sat up and pulled her flush against him. "I want you to be my future."

Rikku shrugged off the frission of unease that lanced through her at his words. He wants the same thing I did: our ideal future, not the one we actually got. Did he even realize what he was asking her to do, by placing his secret hope into her hands?

I've always wanted you to be my future. Bahamut gave me my own story, but I'm not sure he actually granted me my dream. She smiled, trying to banish the dark thoughts swirling through her mind before Auron picked up on her discomfort; he was dealing with enough already. And who says our future can't be the real one? Why can't they be the same?

"I like your dream," she whispered, focusing on Auron. "But I see a teeny-tiny problem with it."

His expression closed, brows drawing together. "Sin," he said heavily.

"No. I believe in Braska. I really think we can defeat Sin." She smirked and tapped his nose. "I meant something more immediate."

"Hnn," Auron grunted and lifted an eyebrow. "What are you cooking up now?"

She frowned, threading her fingers carefully through his hair and stroking his temples. "Don't close up like that. I liked how honest you were being with me there."

"I told you, I'm not in the mood for games," he attempted to grumble. It wasn't very effective, considering the way his eyes were fluttering closed under her careful massage.

"I'm being completely serious here," she said. "I like it when you open up to me. It makes me feel closer to you. The real you." She sunk down lower and let her lips ghost past his temple as she spoke. "It makes me want to be closer to you."

He twitched, finally catching onto her mood.

"And that brings me back to your problem," she said coyly. "How are we supposed to start a family together if we don't put any effort into it?"

"Effort," he repeated, cracking one eye open and looking at her.

"I hear raising a family can be hard work," she grinned, leaning back. He craned his neck, following her up. "Think you're up for it?"

"You tell me," he answered, reaching up and drawing her back down with a glint in his eye.

I chose the title of this chapter just because I liked the sound of it, but it's actually a job title from Final Fantasy Tactics. Also, a shout-out to my husband, who was actually in a swordfighting group, for helping me choreograph Jecht and Auron's fight.

Ashura (Auron's Blade): Piercing, Counterattack, Magic Counter, Strength +10%