Filling In The Blanks
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy IX or any of its characters.
Chapter 115: The Way it Was
Blank awoke just before the sunrise.
It was strange, feeling so exhausted yet unable to succumb to sleep. It felt like he'd been dreaming for months, to which he supposed in a way, he sort of had. But now slumber escaped him, and he found himself rising before everyone else again and again. Baku and Marcus had asked the first few times it happened on their long journey home, but they got used to it quickly.
He stayed loyally close, waiting for the others to wake up – never bothering them but never worrying them with leaving either.
Sitting at the large, stone dining table by the water was probably the calmest place the redhead could be. He might have chosen to relocate to the beach, but he was almost afraid he would see a soaked wood violet washed up on shore and the omen itself was enough to scare him away.
He ran his hand absently around the clay cup he'd nearly forgotten about on the table. Water sloshed inside, every so often splashing a flick onto his hand. There was a sullenness to his attitude that he couldn't quite shake – something about his reunion yesterday that felt overwhelmingly sad, and it clouded his thoughts that morning. The callouses spread across his fingers felt rough against the unglazed finish of the cup he was holding, and it reminded him of the rough handle of an almost-complete dagger hilt. Tantalus was never able to afford polished finishes on their hilts, and sometimes the grade of metal they used had an odd, textured surface. It was only after he had gotten older that he grew accustomed to something smooth and cool in his hand, and for some reason, this cup was only bringing him back now.
"Can't sleep?"
He turned his head, watching Freya climb the stairs slowly. She wore only her sleeveless blouse and gold pants, her hat either lost or abandoned some time ago and her long, crimson jacket nowhere to be seen.
"I guess I'm an early riser these days. Two and a half months of limbo will do that to a guy, I suppose."
She pressed her lips into a thin line, "If only we all had a way to peg that feeling."
"What do you mean?"
She shrugged, "I feel it too, this unease that wakes you before the sun. It is unsettling. Cid said that change was on the wind; I hoped it not to be true, but I fear it is coming faster than we desire."
"Great. And here I am just trying to get used to things again."
"You have always been part of a changing world."
Usually, Blank tried to avoid meaningless chatter like this, but something about the phrases that Freya was forming kept him interested. "Do you think it will ever stop changing?"
"Nothing is permanent."
He stared at her, frustrated, through his lashes. "We've been teammates for almost six years, Freya. The least you could do is talk to me like I'm a normal human."
A smile flickered onto her face as her nose twitched up. "Gaia is alive. She speaks in ways that many people choose to ignore, but she speaks anyways. Grass will eventually grow over the scorched field in Dali, music will find its way into the streets of Treno again; walls will be built over the rubble of Alexandria. The scars of this war will eventually fade away, and the world will continue to develop and change until people do not remember a thing about Kuja anymore. Some new threat will arise, and someone new will be chosen to dismantle it."
"So what you're saying is, even if we win this war, nothing will be a stable normal?"
"I know you have not been alive long enough to experience a good change in this world, but it will come. You will see it, and you will welcome it without grievances."
"Sometimes I'm not so sure," he shrugged, pushing the cup away from him and turning towards the water. It was unexpectedly calm before dawn.
There was silence for a moment as Freya busied herself with ladling her own glass of water from their stores.
"So how bad was it?"
She turned to him, question rising on her face.
"Zidane. How bad was it?"
Freya shrugged her shoulders. "It was bad. Did you expect anything different?"
Blank faltered, unsure what he had expected. "He seems okay."
She nodded, "He seems that way. He went on a ran to the Iifa Tree just yesterday. But underneath everything, I believe he is hurting. Madain Sari has lifted the spirits of all who have a bit of magic in them, Zidane included. But the pressure of missing out on these important training runs and practices, it wears on him. I see it in the way he cheers on his teammates, and the way he walks with Dagger, aching and lilted after a long day on his feet. He is not ready to face the changes that are foretold, and he knows it."
"Doesn't he know that we have his back?"
Freya chuckled, remembering Steiner's harsh words to the boy who was ready to set out on a solo journey again with a crutch under his arm.
"He sleeps down by the water now, away from the rest of the resistance. Beatrix was worried that if we were found out, he would be alone if an assault occurred by the water, but nothing anyone has said will sway his decision."
"Alone by the water? What do you mean?"
"He will not sleep in the caves, nor will he sleep near his team or Tantalus or even Dagger. But he arrives to breakfast or training happy, every morning."
Blank remembered the Tantalus sleeping quarters in Lindblum, how Zidane would wait for everyone to go to bed in the loft first so he could throw himself over his brothers. He used to say he wanted at least a finger touching everyone, just so they always remembered he was there. His eyes narrowed without him really meaning to do it because that just didn't sound like Zidane.
"That's interesting."
"Zidane was very lost when he first woke up. Please do not push the subject on him."
Blank felt guilty though he hadn't even said anything to Freya. She was right though, he probably would have pestered his friend about it, and as grudging as the thought was, Blank wasn't there to understand when the blonde woke up. He wouldn't get what the others now understood.
"Do you think Zidane is going to die?"
The question hung in the air for a moment, a pregnant pause filling the space widely. The redhead no longer had the cup to fiddle with, but his body seemed frozen, unable to fidget while he waited for her genuine answer.
She sipped her water gingerly for a moment, seeming to waste time before she answered him. After slowly replacing the cup on the stone table with a satisfying tap – the noise almost echoing, the anticipation of her answer was so vast – she turned to him.
"Did anyone ever expect him to live?"
Answering a question with a question.
It sounded like something Freya would do. And the logical answer that laced her words made a lot of sense coming from her mouth as well. But some part of Blank wished that someone would lie. Someone would be optimistic because he couldn't be the one to do it – he couldn't be the one to utter that his best friend would live if he did not.
He wanted someone to lie to him.
Her answer stung, and she must have known it too, because she rose from her chair and leaned forward, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. She didn't speak, but gave a gentle squeeze before clasping his cup with hers and turning to leave.
" 'The scars of this war will eventually fade away… and the world' – "he stopped quoting her then, pausing to watch her halt in her path, "- will forget the truly unnecessary sacrifices of the warriors who fell."
She looked at him over her shoulder, her silvery hair so long now – almost as long as Fratley's was before the war started and he was still doing so much traveling. Her ice colored eyes were sad and her mouth drooped in a tired frown. "While pleasant change will emerge again, I fear it will not solely exist without change that causes pain."
"Hmph," Blank answered her, not displeased with her, but hating how much sense her answer made.
"I'm just so glad you're back!"
He glanced up, an irritable scowl on his face that didn't truly match his mood. He was actually feeling pretty good. They were sitting on the outskirts of Madain Sari, Blank on a large slab of stone, soaking up the rays and warmth he had missed in the past months though he would never admit to actually sunbathing. Zidane hung by his tail from a piece of metal rubble jutting from the side of the canyon wall; the moogles never did have the heart to clear the village of the only tangible pieces left of its history.
Zidane's comment had been followed by a little, high-pitched squeal and the redhead was having a hard time determining if it was laced with sarcasm or the giddiness of being alive. He thought the blonde ought to be over that point though.
"Gross," he decided on replying with.
The blonde let out a hearty laugh, his hair framing his upside down face. It was long, the ponytail hanging looser and blonder than Blank remembered. "Glad to see you haven't changed at all!"
Blank rolled his eyes. "I could say the same to you. You've always been overly sentimental."
Zidane frowned, though nothing could deter him from the consistently timed swings – back and forth, back and forth – almost therapeutic. "I have been just the perfect amount of sentimental, thankyouverymuch!"
"Nobody else would agree with you."
He sighed, but it turned into a healthy grin. "Glad to see you won't be babying me at all."
Blank let out a grunt.
They sat in silence for a moment, both of their minds wandering. He couldn't read the expression on the blonde's face, but he seemed lost into a much deeper subject than the younger of the two cared to explore. Freya's words from earlier that morning weighed heavily on him. He watched the therapeutic swing of his best friend by his tail, arms hanging nearly on either side of his head. The scar from Freya's makeshift surgery was still puckered and angry and Blank realized then that Dagger's white magic couldn't completely take the scars from his skin. Silver slashes of all sizes suddenly overwhelmed Blank's vision and he actually had to close his eyes and shake his head to stop noticing them peppered over Zidane's skin so blatantly. He focused instead on the constant, but small, thudding noise, soon realizing it was coming from Zidane's dagger sheath, hanging loosely at his waist.
A sudden, irreversible and unreadable emotion came over Blank and before he knew what he was doing he was standing and unsheathing his dagger.
The noise brought Zidane out of his stupor and he stared at his best friend quizzically.
"What are you doing?"
"Come down here," Blank demanded, though not harshly.
Feeling like the teasing tone had vanished, Zidane executed Blank's order quickly and stood in front of him. The redhead extended his arm and on reflex, Zidane took a step back and away from the blade.
"What are you doing?" he repeated.
"Let's spar."
Zidane watched his friend with a careful eye. Gone was his patched armor that was the preferred attire. It had been nearly shredded in the escape from the forest, petrification, de-petrification, and journey home. Now he wore tan armored pants, his leather, ankle boots replaced by taller, thicker boots that someone from Lindblum had spared him. He sported a dark, leather vest with a shoulder guard on the right arm and a leather armband on the left. His new sheath was metal and made a satisfying ching noise when his weapon was drawn. He no longer wore a forehead protector that slumped down around his eyes though his hair was still spiked like he did.
He looked like, with such a dramatic armor change, he had matured and Zidane felt like he had been away from Blank even longer than the five years he'd been imprisoned by Kuja. A twinge suddenly grew in his chest when he saw, finally, what all of them must have looked like now – a far change even from nearly three years ago when he met up with the resistance for the first time.
"They would kill you if they found out you actually let me fight."
"I'll say I had no idea. I thought you were fit to fight, it's been long enough, right? And you didn't say anything about needing to rest."
A grin overtook Zidane's face. "You're going to make me take all of the blame?"
"This isn't an invitation. Draw your weapon and let's spar."
That grin didn't leave Zidane's face as he sprung backwards a few steps, ghosting the ground with his feet, too excited to stand still. "Don't hold back."
"Trust me," Blank started, feeling a little guilty and hating the way he could already tell Zidane was not as good of a fighter as he would remember, "I won't."
And that's how they started. Zidane flung himself forward, no hesitations, and Blank responded by putting in as much gusto.
Weapons ringing out was the best noise the genome had ever heard. It pumped a similar feeling into his veins, full of giddiness and adrenaline, as when he shot onto the path from the cover of Madain Sari, towards the Iifa Tree like nobody could stop him for anything in the world.
He shoved all of his weight against his weapon, feeling Blank's strength out through the metal of his dagger. The slice of steel caught between them as each fighter danced back, fleeing the potential danger of one fighter's dagger overpowering the other. It was in their training – in their blood as thieves and sneaks to dance this dance along the ground, darting in and out, weaving around attacks and trying to get the upper hand – not by honor but sleazily – almost cheating.
Zidane and Blank performed well. They bobbed around each other, leaping in to try and land a hit, only to dive back out when they decided they were cutting it too close. Blank clashed his dagger onto Zidane and with a quick thought, swung his right foot outward, arching his back into a dip. Zidane, already trying to overpower him with so much force, stumbled, simultaneously getting knocked in the ankles by a hard boot. His knees shook and he collapsed, landing hard on his kneecaps as he rolled to the side to avoid a swipe of Blank's dagger.
Sand and grit stuck to his arm and pants as he rolled back up into a standing position. But Blank was already there, suddenly picking up speed. No longer was there a steady hum-drum of their spar – this was Blank's quick-wit and fast strategizing all oozing out in the anticipation of battle.
He swiped high, aiming for Zidane's right cheek, but the blonde used his exhaustion to his advantage and let his body flounder underneath him, dropping himself to the dirt far faster than any coordinated duck would have. Once he was on the ground, he lunged for Blank's legs and with a great surge from the muscles in his thighs, sprang into a standing position, throwing the redhead over his shoulders.
The thief rolled, bounding back up almost as easily as he wiped out as Zidane turned with a pained expression on his face. His leg had popped, air adjusting around the shattered leg bone with tender muscles that weren't used to being moved.
But that didn't deter Blank. With determination setting his jaw, he raced forward. In a panic, Zidane leapt to the side, babying his right leg and choosing to fall sloppily on his left hip. Blank was on top of him again, and with a bewildered grunt, he realized he had foolishly let his dagger fall out of his grasp as he opted for his escape.
Pulling together his thoughts, he grabbed the hilt of the dagger lopsidedly with his tail and flung it in the direction of the redhead. It was brave, because someone could easily dodge a mobile weapon, but his tail always surprised even the most familiar of enemies, and it caught on his bare forearm that had come up just a split second too late to block the weapon completely.
Four small drops of blood beaded on the surface of Blank's skin and both of them stared at it for a moment. A grin flourished on Zidane's face and Blank would swear for the rest of his life he had never seen someone look so proud.
In a sudden wave of emotions, Blank lost the urge to fight completely. He didn't drop his arm, but his posture completely changed, abruptly halting Zidane's scramble to grab his dagger.
He glanced up at his friend, looking so sheepish for trying to reach for his weapon and awkward because he was in a half defensive stance, looking like he was caught stealing cookies from the bakery back in Lindblum that they frequented as they were growing up.
The cut barely stung.
But it was there – there was blood to prove it.
If someone would just give Zidane a chance.
"You're going to make it," he blubbered suddenly, not even seeming to realize where the thought came from.
"What?" Zidane asked, the traces of a laugh in his tone as he scratched the back of his neck.
"You're going to survive," the redhead found himself saying. Hadn't he just said this morning he couldn't bear to be the one to say it? Just in case it wasn't true? Then where had the overwhelming feeling to share his thoughts come from?
Was he just being hopeful? Foolish? Blank always grudgingly agreed with the vast majority of people that described him as a pessimist, so it didn't seem likely.
Did that mean…
Did that mean maybe he thought Zidane really could survive the war?
He glanced down at the droplets of blood on his arm. No one had even bothered to give him a chance – not even against a newbie or someone who usually didn't fight melee. And here he was, fighting an Elite who had been itching to get back into action after being away for months and Zidane landed the first hit? And not only was it the first hit – it was the first hit to draw blood.
Something that tasted like pride swelled up on Blank's tongue, and he felt the urge to repeat himself. "You're going to see the end of this war."
Zidane laughed then, unsure really what else to say. Blank couldn't tell if the genome agreed with his statement, but discovered with a bit of surprise that he didn't care in the least bit. This is what Blank wanted, what he - did he dare say it – believed.
"Man, maybe you've gotten a little sentimental too."
Blank didn't even have the heart to argue.
Maybe Zidane was right.
There was a bit of a mutual agreement that Blank and Zidane would keep quiet about their little spar, despite the redhead's overwhelming desire to yell at the rest of the entire resistance, shouting out praise for giving his friend a shot.
They were currently being herded into the largest clearing of Madain Sari, something that probably once resembled a market place. The humdrum of resistance politics whizzed in Blank's ears as he and the blonde tried to make their way to the front, standing proudly with the Elites. He hadn't seen Dagger and Freya – or even Steiner and Beatrix – look this professional in a long time.
"You two are late!" Steiner barked at them as they weaved through the crowd.
"Back to his usual self," Blank muttered while Zidane suppressed a snicker. Steiner gave them both a wildly unattractive stink eye, like he knew exactly what they said despite not hearing it.
"Everyone quiet, quiet! Quiet down!" Steiner began yelling, trying to get the results he desired as fast as he could.
People continued to chatter with questions. This was the first time the entirety of the resistance had met for an official meeting since all of the new recruits. It was packed, hot and uncomfortable and people fidgeted with noise.
"Everybody quiet down!" Beatrix suddenly boomed. Instantly, the entire clearing went silent.
Steiner shot an annoyed look at her, "Show off," he mumbled.
Cid stepped forward, effectively cutting off their argument before it could begin. "I wanted to start by officially congratulating all of you!"
A murmur rose and fell in the crowd.
Cid let out a hearty laugh as if nothing important was to come of the announcement. "I am so dearly proud of all of you for getting through the last couple of months. I know that our living situations have been quite the shock and change for most of you, the forest was so unfortunately short lived and Madain Sari has been cramped and hot. I thank you all for standing by our cause – by your cause – to see this through.
"We have spent much time getting to know each other, familiarizing ourselves with different drills and techniques to complement each other in battle. Myself, Hilda and the others standing around me have been watching. We have seen who works together the best, what roles you will ultimately play with us, and what steps we must take to win this war."
Everyone leaned forward, Cid's words gripping them. Blank's eyes swept over the crowd. He saw so many people he didn't recognize – so many more than the small family he started this war with. There was over triple the amount of resistance members they started with and his chest swelled with that pesky sense of uncharacteristic pride he'd been feeling so often in the last few days.
"It's taken a long time to gather our entire team back together after the craziness of the last few months, but we've finally done it. We welcomed back the final member we were waiting for yesterday –" he shot a grin at Blank, "- and with that, we will no longer wait for more to join us. Those who have committed are here now, and any who wish to fight with us later we will welcome, but will not count on. I do believe we have what it takes to finish this war now – all of your brave souls together prove it!"
There was some light cheering. He was no motivational speaker quite like Beatrix, but he thought maybe the words meant more coming from Cid than someone who barked orders at them every day.
"In the last weeks or so, while tracking your training, we have been placing you into groups. Groups you will now specifically begin training with – people you will do runs with, people you will have to get to know… Their strengths, their weaknesses, their ticks, even their allergies! Everything you can find out about the people on your team will help you to keep them alive in this final battle. I know we are in our final months before combat… But Kuja will be ready for us – he will be waiting for us. I do not think he has realized just how many people will rise to stop him, but he knows a change is on the wind. We need to be prepared!"
Blank nodded his head slowly. He had been briefed about this vaguely this morning when Cid sought him out, early, still before most had risen for the day. But it made more sense now that it was being said out loud. Originally, the plan had always been to split Tantalus, Elite and Command up. Baku's crew, Beatrix's crew and Roma's crew were the most experienced groups in the resistance – they'd been fighting together the longest and had the most experience front hand with Kuja's soldiers.
He, having been absent from every single one of those meetings, wasn't sure what changed, but it was nearly a unanimous decision to keep these three groups united – they wouldn't be splitting up for this fight against Kuja, his soldiers and his dreamers. He did suspect though, that it had to do with what Cid was saying now; the more you knew about your teammates, the less likely you were to get them killed.
He exhaled deeply. He would have to convince someone to let Zidane start training again. From the buzz around their little community, Eiko had him running and Freya had him practicing hand to hand combat, slowly and progressively. Nothing quite like the spar he'd had with the blonde earlier. And if he wanted to do everything he could to keep the genome alive, he needed to make sure that the others realized his style of fighting had changed, no matter how little the details were.
Blank was lost in his thoughts as Cid was rattling off more about teams and finally began pairing people off. He watched, almost in a daze, as the crowd dwindled, and it was only after the meeting that he realized Cid had instructed each team to be sent off, to spend some quality time together. His nose crinkled; it sounded like a teacher trying to force the kids to be friends at school.
Except it wasn't just loneliness during break that would develop if you didn't bother to learn your team; death waited slyly around the corner for those who didn't take this job seriously.
"Blank," he shook his head, suddenly looking up. The area was nearly clear, Tantalus lounging in a circle toward the far wall, Baku and Marcus laughing loudly about something Ruby had said.
"What?"
"Were you taking a snooze?" Dagger teased with a small smile, "Your eyes glazed over only five minutes into that meeting."
"It was all stuff I've heard before," he waved his hand in front of his face.
"Well, we would be setting a poor example if the strongest group was not getting together to speak with each other on current events," Freya explained, "Steiner and Beatrix have gone ahead to verify some groups, but they will be back."
"So… we've spent over five years together, and we still have to ask each other if we're allergic to peanuts?"
"I-I'm allergic to peanuts," Vivi piped up, but very quietly.
Zidane snorted, "So much for knowing your teammates, Blank!"
He huffed and plopped down on the ground next to the blonde. Vivi sat on his other side.
"The only thing I really want to know from you guys," Amarant began, surprising the group with his words, "Is what the story is with you, Marcus and Baku in Treno."
His words caused a flash in Blank's mind. Cierradonna came to the for front of his vision and he had to bite his tongue from spilling the beans right there. It was suddenly something, after months of being out of the loop, he decided maybe he ought to tell Ruby.
"Well," Blank rubbed his neck, not used to being the sole person in the spotlight. "It's really a tale better told from Marcus and Baku. I really wasn't with it much for the first week or so of the trip home."
"What do you mean?" Eiko inquired, her voice cutting above any other rising question.
"Petrification…" he started but then faltered, unsure about exactly what he wanted to say. "It's sort of a weird thing. It's like when people talk about being in a coma – they're there, but they aren't really there. They hear things, they dream things, like sleeping but fuzzier. Nothing came into sharp focus and nothing made sense, but the strange things you dream also aren't questioned in your mind either."
"So is that what it's like being petrified?"
He shrugged, "for a little while there was nothing. The man we got the supersoft from suggested it was because my body was shutting down, pulling into itself to keep my mind alive. It usually happens really quick, so when people get petrified in battle they don't usually remember anything about it after coming out of it because a stona or esuna is cast fairly quickly." He nodded towards Freya, "At least, that's what he sort of theorizes. But you've been petrified in battle before, does that story check out?"
Freya nodded, a peculiarly thoughtful look on her face. She cupped her chin with her hand as the light breeze coaxed her hair back over her shoulder. "I did not remember anything. There was a faint coldness to my body and then nothing until I was brought back."
Vivi tipped his hat back to see her clearly, "I felt that same cold when I was hit with that spell in Dali when I fought those men and black mages. It felt like all of the adrenaline was draining me and sucking all of the heat out of my body with it."
"Hold on!" Zidane shook his head, "I didn't even know Freya was petrified in battle!"
"It happened very early into the resistance. That type of black magic is very rare now. It originated in the Black Mage Village, which perhaps is the reason it has only been used by the black mage puppets as far as we have seen," Beatrix's voice filled their ears and their heads turned to see her and Steiner walking up, skin glistening in the evening heat.
"Quina wants to hear rest of Blank's story! Quina interested."
Dagger laughed lightly, "he's right!"
Blank shrugged, "So like I was saying, at first it felt like nothing. But then after a while light sort of came to me. Memories and faces and words, but nothing in any particular, chronological order. I didn't know who I was, I didn't know who the people were in my mind, and they were hard to grasp, a lot like dreams. But as time went on, it became a really sharp focus, things were tangible enough to start to understand even though the order was kind of off. When I woke up, all of that sharp, realistic focus vanished. My body was weak and cramped and I couldn't even walk for a few days. Marcus and Baku literally dragged me out of the forest – a slow depetrification started for all of the life in there, but we didn't stick around long enough to watch it get very far."
All were silent. There were no longer any remarks to make, everyone wanted to hear the story.
Blank's hands fisted and unfisted before his fingers traced along the dirt he was sitting in. His eyes shown dark green in the draining light – no one was quite accustomed yet to seeing his eyes. It let on a lot of emotion for the young thief that was previously hidden.
"I was useless almost until we reached Qu's Marsh. I'm not even quite sure how we made it through the South Gate, but they told me that we've gathered a couple more friends on the inside according to one of the mayor's trusted workers who met us outside of Dali. Before we entered Fossil Roo is when I finally came around and started to snap out of my daze. I started asking about Zenero and Zidane and the escape from Alexandria, but they had to keep retelling me the story because my mind couldn't hold onto much information."
"You were petrified for a long time," Dagger said quietly. "I wish we could have helped you sooner."
He shook his head, "I'm still here, aren't I? It's better that we completed our task…" he trailed, again remembering Freya's words and not wanting to put too much pressure on Zidane. He decided not to finish his thought.
"Well in any case," Steiner cleared his throat, "We are glad you three have come back safely."
There was quiet for a moment. "What else exactly are we supposed to talk about?" Eiko asked, innocence floating in her voice.
Beatrix opened her mouth, as though to answer, but slowly shut it again. Team building had never been about sitting in a circle and talking for them – it was out getting a feel for their team by doing.
"Let us go on a run."
The others' heads quirked up in half curiosity-half surprise at her words. "A run? To where?"
She took in a long breath and set a hard gaze before she answered. It was the type of expression she wore when she dared people to challenge her authority. "Let us go to the city for supplies. To Conde Petie."
"What?!" Steiner floundered, still with his boisterous movements and flabbergasted surprise. He was one to be taken seriously of course, but his overdramatic gestures when things truly caught him off guard, they were sure, never would change.
"That is a bold idea, Beatrix!" Freya agreed, "What would we do?"
She shrugged, "Infiltrate the city. Gather supplies, intel, anything that we can."
"Infiltrate!" Steiner choked on his wry laughter.
"This is an awful big group of outsiders to release into the city," Amarant commented. "I'm sure our posters are everywhere if Kuja's soldiers have ever even been to Conde Petie."
"We need to get back into the swing of things. We need to begin learning each other again before the stakes are quite as high."
"The swing of things!" Steiner cried out.
Beatrix glowered at him. "You are not a parrot, Steiner. If you have something to disagree with, do use your words."
His jaw bobbed up and down, teeth clinking shut and reopening again as he tried to wear a tough expression. But he was too shocked. Finally, in a fit of frustration he threw his arm out, directed at Zidane. "What about him!?"
"We can't risk his healing process by bringing him into the city!" Dagger went up to her knees from her sitting position, ready nearly to jump up and defend her point. Their volume suddenly shot up, and nearly everyone started yelling.
"We cannot jeopardize everything we have been working towards on a run like this!" Freya said.
"Quina don't want to take chances."
"We have plenty of supplies and plenty of teams to go out and get anything we need!"
"I just don't see how we can have Zidane jumping back into things this fast!"
"We haven't practiced together in a long time, always worrying about everyone else. We will be the leading team against Kuja – we cannot afford to forget how we fight together!"
"We have been together for many years, I do not think much has changed!"
"You can't expect us to agree with you, Beatrix!"
Zidane sat back, his legs still outstretched in front of him, leaning back on his hands. He had a well trained, neutral expression on his face, uncharacteristically quiet in the battle of opinions about what he could and could not handle. Everyone else was on their feet, yelling at each other and throwing out hand gestures. Tantalus watched, half risen, peculiar interest written on their faces.
Blank hadn't said anything either. The noise was overwhelming and made his head spin a little bit. He glanced back to see Baku shuffling his feet like he wanted to come get involved. Then he stared at Zidane. Something about the way he sat said that more had happened to make him sit quiet. He hadn't run to meet his best friend; he hadn't been overly exerted into everyone's conversations, being pesky and annoying and loveable like he always was; Blank saw fear on his face during their spar. Fear on the face of someone who was so dumb fear was a foreign subject. Fear didn't exist in Zidane and he had seen it today as he charged at his friend who saw no other escape route than to leap fretfully out of the way. And that was just in a spar with a friend who wouldn't really hurt him.
And now…
There he sat, trained to sit quiet and let everyone else handle his fate. This was the Zidane that, limping and still broken, threw open the doors to Cid's office and demanded he be on a team, no matter who went, that would be sent out to recruit.
An overwhelming emotion hit Blank then and he couldn't really decide what it was. But it had him standing before he really knew what he was doing and throwing his hands out to the side, "I sparred with Zidane today!"
The swimming in his vision slowed as soon as the voices vanished. They stared at him, not with fury but the type of damnation of judgement that made you want to slink into a hole and use a shovel to cover yourself from the world.
"You did what?" Dagger's words were slow, careful. He could tell just by her tone that she was angry and maybe a little betrayed. He couldn't blame her; all of their hard work that he hadn't had to be a part of to bring him back…
He sucked in a breath, owning up to the drama he had just stirred. He stopped himself from shrugging and kicking at the dirt like the whiney child he had always been. Instead, Blank squared his shoulders and looked at each of them in the eye.
"That's right. I challenged him to a spar." His lips puckered as he made another decision. "He tried to refuse. Told me you guys would be angry," Dagger opened her mouth to say more – he saw out of the corner of his eye that Steiner and Beatrix did the same, "- but here's the thing… Everyone's been telling me how something has changed in Zidane. Almost dying will do that to a guy, sure, but I don't think it was Kuja who did it." He flung out his arm to the blonde who wore a mortified expression from the ground.
"Babied and coddled and reprimanded for trying to keep his skills where they rightfully should be. Did he almost die? Yes. You know, when Zidane was eight years old, he almost drowned. Wasn't the best swimmer – he had this weird fear of water that started at age seven and was kicked by age eight, more of a phase than anything else.
"Baku brought us out down by the docks to do a little practice run with our weapons. We were being our typical selves and climbing up on the rocks where we shouldn't have been – Baku even told us that! He yelled at us, called us little shits and told us that if we wanted to misbehave that we were going to practice on those rocks jutting out of the cliff. It was raining that day. Zidane slipped off of a higher rock, broke his arm when he with the second one. It was a bad break – the type of break that breaks the skin and shapes your arm like a lightning bolt. Then he fell into the water.
"He floundered, already scared of the water and bleeding and yelling. We knew that if he kept yelling like that guards would come down, and we'd all be caught for sure. Kuja was still in a bit of a power struggle with Lindblum, slowly squashing out any lit resistance in the city – Tantalus included. But we were always mindful to stick to the shadows. His face was paper white and we all flinched every time his arm smacked back down into the water. But Baku didn't do a thing. He shook his head and yelled down to Zidane that if he didn't figure out a way to calm down and get out of the water, all of them would be dead."
Their faces had turned mildly horrified. Dagger had her hands over her mouth and almost all of Tantalus now skirted on the edge of the conversation. Steiner and Beatrix shuffled uncomfortably and Eiko and Quina looked like their worlds were crashing down because their hero went through such a distress.
Blank sighed, and his shoulders sagged. His blow out mood deflated and he ran a hand through his hair. He suddenly felt hot, having stood in the limelight for so long.
"What happened?" Eiko asked in a small voice.
"Zidane stopped yelling, swam to the dock and pulled himself up. Once he was out of the water he ran right with us, didn't hold us back, and climbed up on top of the fish house and around the loading warehouse, his arm a bloody mess, and recovered just fine. We lived." He turned towards the others. "That's what I mean. Everyone is so hell bent on emphasizing what he can't do that nobody this entire time has asked me who landed the first hit in the spar today. Who drew first blood," he turned his arm to the side. The scratch was light, barely even there, but it was still visible. "Yeah, he's injured. But that means his fighting style his changed, and nobody thinks that it's going to matter, but Vivi's allergies to peanuts is? Ask any of Tantalus – when Zidane relearned how to fight with a dagger, his style was familiar but not the same. It took some readjusting to go into combat with him again. It might just be that he hasn't practice, or maybe his stances and skills have changed for good – for better or worse. And it's high time we start making sure we do everything we can to help him survive the war and not just survive the training. It's pathetic."
It took a long time for anyone to say anything. Everyone shifted uncomfortably and Blank stared each of them down individually for a while. Baku caught his eye and nodded with a twisted smirk on his face – proud of the unpopular stand his boy had just taken.
"It's official then," Beatrix finally said, once again squaring her shoulders and looking at her team. "Let's leave for the run now, before anyone has any time to think about it. Grab your weapons. You heard Blank – it's no longer up for discussion."
The others began to disperse to grab spears, swords, staffs, and other weapons, while Blank and Zidane stayed behind, always carrying their daggers on their waists.
The blonde grinned up at his friend. Blank refused to acknowledge him until the uncomfortably large smirk became too much.
"What?!"
"Welcome home, bud."
A/N: I'm not going to edit! I need to get this chapter to you now! I've literally just stopped writing and I'm posting it in the next three minutes! Ahh! Loved that little impromptu bit at the end of the chapter: what do you guys think?! I'm dying to share my commentary with you, so even if it does give a little away I'm going to say it. I think this was an awesome way to wrap up these long, painful chapters of Zidane unable to participate. This section was, in my opinion, an awesome way to transition into the next stage of the story and I'm excited that we're finally at a close with this portion of the story even though the ambush in Alexandria was my very first vision for this story. :D
Thank you for all of your continued support as I struggle to find free time to write for you amazing people! Hugs for you all! :D
-zesty-
