"For Cosette and Marius nothing existed except Marius and Cosette. The universe around them had fallen into a hole. They lived in a golden minute. There was nothing before them, nothing behind."

Book Eight: Enchantments and desolations, II: The bewilderment of perfect happiness

Les Misérables – Victor Hugo

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: A Little Universe

Yuna

She was surprised to find that the early symptoms of first love she had so often read about had passed her by. Idleness, distraction, the high runaway laughter drifting from all new sweethearts like music from an open window; Yuna was done with all that, done with daydreaming. Instead, what had settled between she and Tidus was something as natural and impenetrable as two rays of sunlight falling next to one another.

She was, perhaps, less prepared for the translation of her rose-coloured imaginings of love to the street. Noisy kisses, flirtation, sticky palms and hot cheeks, the awkward labeling of lovers. Then, of course, the press of people into their private world; the remarks and deliberate looks - as though they knew anything, anything at all.

She wanted to hold her newborn union protected in her hands, like a little universe, watch it breathe and take shape, find its way. In her heart she doubted whether something so precious could truly guard itself from the intrusion of the outside world.

Yuna's first test in this was perhaps before her. She had never spectated at an Abes' practice session before and Tidus had lately sought to remedy this. Now she could often be found up in the rafters amongst a scattering of the teams' friends and siblings, children in her lap, guiding their chubby hands as they waved plastic Abes flags for victory. She watched Wakka's new plays succeed and fail, watched the teammates bicker and tease, watched Tidus wink at her from the field at every opportunity. Her courage swelled with every new session.

Still, she invariably found herself nervous at closing, hovering outside the team's locker room; forbidden lands. The Abes filed out confidently one by one, chased by shower steam and the smell of designer shampoo. Each one boasted varying shades of Zanarkander blonde, except the slender third fielder, Luperis, who had dyed his hair a violent blue.

As soon as they caught sight of her, knowing smiles bounced between them like a Blitzball.

"Hey, it's Yuna! Our boy treatin' you right?"

She had met most of the Abes before, some in snatched moments before they were carried off to victory celebrations, others at the Ball when Tidus had thrust countless introductions upon her. The loudest member of the team, Shaft, had met her often enough to know how easily she blushed, and always took advantage.

"Man, you're far too pretty for him, you know that?" he teased, draping an arm around her. "Why don't you come out with me instead?"

"Because she has standards, idiot." The Abes' only female player, Naya was a fan favourite and an idol for Zanarkand girls. She pushed Shaft's arm easily from Yuna's shoulders and replaced it with her own gloved one. "Watch the pack of hounds, Yuna; they're known to slobber."

Shaft snapped his teeth playfully in Naya's direction to prove her point. Luperis was more gentlemanly. "So, it took a real Bevellian lady to steal the heart of our star," he smiled.

"I grew up on an island!" Yuna protested, laughing. "I'm not a lady."

"Trust me, Yuna, you easily out-lady our Zanarkand girls," Luperis told her. "Just look at Naya."

"Wanna live to see tomorrow?" his female teammate warned.

"Hey Yuna, want a limited edition Blitzball?" The goalkeeper tossed it to her over his shoulder and to her own surprise she caught it by reflex. Shaft thought that was hilarious. "You ever thought about trying out for goals?" he asked her. "You catch a lot better than Cetan over here."

Naya rolled her eyes at them all in a long suffering way. Yuna looked from one to the other with amused curiosity, wondering what it could possibly be that connected the ragtag members of Spira's most famous team. Ambition, talent, hunger… perhaps just something to prove? She suspected that whatever it was spoke to the true nature of Blitzball.

Eventually Naya took Yuna aside as the boys carried on their fun. "So Yuna, what have you done to our Ti, huh?" she teased warmly. "I've never seen him this way before. He's had one goofy smile stuck on his face ever since the Blitz Ball."

The frankness of such conversation was still too much for Yuna. She could not decide whether to return the joke, or dare to confide. Taking someone into her confidence was a long journey for the island girl. Yet she liked Naya, and it was always appealing to talk about Tidus…

"Don't be strangers, girls!" Shaft hooted from across the locker room, in want of attention. Naya yelled back until she was interrupted.

"Didn't I tell you guys not to scare her off?"

Tidus still had the scarlet training tape wrapped around his knuckles and wrists and beads of water clung tenaciously to his hair, flattening the spikes. When his eyes came to rest on Yuna, something new and intimate flickered between them as delightful as a promise. It was something akin to what she experienced the first time she overheard two natives speaking in Al Bhed and realized she understood the words, that pure pleasure of first translation.

Yet even as Yuna felt pulled towards him gentle as tidewater, his teammates remained an uncertain barrier that she was as yet unwilling to cross. He made his way to her instead, all lazy smiles, his arm settling around her waist as naturally as her fingers came to rest on the pale gold of his bare back. The draw of his warm skin made her long for the private world they had haunted many evenings past.

"Please, Ti," Shaft was saying, "If we wanted to scare her we'd show her that Sphere of you from that after-party last year in Luca."

"Do it and I'll kick your ass even harder than I did at practice," Tidus warned.

The easy affection with which he had greeted her inspired Yuna with a sudden burst of confidence.

"What Sphere is this?" she asked playfully, looking up at him innocently from beneath her lashes. Tidus raised an eyebrow at her.

His teammates laughed and hooted. "That's the way, Yuna, don't let him walk all over you!"

"Come on, Yuna," Tidus said dismissively, half-carrying her towards the door, "these guys are a bad influence."

They made their exit amidst a din of wolf-whistles and suggestive remarks, and above it all, Naya telling them all in no uncertain terms to hold their tongues.

"And that," Tidus concluded as he set her down outside, "is why I never introduced you to the whole team at once."

Tidus

The road towards the harbour led steeply downhill, which tended to long-legged, staggering strides and slapping sneakers, never leaving much opportunity for grace. Yet somehow Yuna never lost it; a dancer down to her bones.

Now that he had catapulted from the role of her keeper and was paying her a boyfriend's attentions, he could see how helplessly it drew blushes and stammers from her, but he couldn't help himself. He had found all kinds of new ways to admire her, the wildflower perfumes she wore, or his favourite colours on her (white, yellow, that deep Summoner's Blue she loved), her heart-on-sleeve smiles that just begged for a kiss. Yet any fond touches he gave without warning she rarely knew what to do with herself.

This time, when he bent to catch up her hand, she volunteered the Blitzball sent her a quizzical look.

"I can't take this home," she explained. "Can you keep it for me? I don't want your teammates to think I'm not thankful for it, you know?"

Wordlessly he accepted the ball, twisting it thoughtfully in his hands. "Hey Yuna... maybe it's time you told your old man?"

He had anticipated a stubborn reaction and she met with it, her face closing up like a fan, hiding behind the iron bars once more. It stung, but he tried to bury the hurt.

"I don't get it. Is he gonna hate me that much? I can tell from the way you speak about him that he's not an evil guy." It had taken a long time for Tidus to admit that, true. Months ago, he might have given Yuna's old man a far less flattering review. Now, though… for the first time in his life, his world was expanding beyond his own ambitions, maybe even beyond Zanarkand. "He wouldn't stop you from seeing your friends. We don't even have to tell him that we're kinda more than that if you don't want."

"It's difficult to explain," Yuna said solemnly. "Perhaps if I'd told him from the beginning, it would be different, but now… he'll know I've been lying to him, betraying his trust. It will hurt him."

"But… the longer it goes on, the more it's going to hurt."

Still her face was pained, and he found himself relenting. Maybe I don't have it so bad with Jecht after all. "Okay, Yuna. Whatever you want, I'm with you. But… I think if your old man knew you were trying to protect him at the expense of your own happiness, it might hurt him more than all of that put together."

Yuna's hands twisted together as if they were in terrible conflict. "He is already in so much pain. All I want is to help him, but he will not accept it."

And all he wants to do is shield you from pain. Tidus understood immediately. Like I did… with the Sending.

Yuna did not warm to this interpretation when he offered it. "For years I have been meeting with ghosts," she argued, her voice as hard as he'd ever heard it. "How fearsome can his be? I will face them at his side; I am not a child any longer."

Tidus shrugged. "Maybe it's something he's ashamed of."

"No shame could unmake him my father." Her eyes shone fiercely, as though daring anyone to doubt it. Then, just as quickly, she buried her face in her hands. "Oh, I wish he'd told me how long he was going. I don't know whether to worry or…"

Tidus stopped them in the street and stayed her gently by her shoulders. "Yuna, from what I saw of the guy, you don't have to worry. Didn't you ever see a Crusader demonstration at the recruitment drives? Those guys are brutal. Tough as old nails."

Her answering smile was a fissure in a frozen lake, a small but welcome victory. The truth was, he was glad she was sharing her doubts with him at last. Funny how not long ago it was always her listening to mine.

"Hey, alright, I get it," he appeased. "Forget about it for a while, okay? Here, I got something for you. Something easier to hide than a Blitzball. Catch."

He twisted the Blitzball she had handed him behind his back and with the other arm tossed her the gift. She caught it like a pro, though she looked startled by her victory.

"Not bad," he said fondly. "You'll have Blitz reflexes in no time. Maybe I'll send you to tryouts after all."

She sent him a skeptical look, then inspected the gift nestled in her palms. The Commsphere had a bright pink base, though the colour almost drowned underneath swirls of silver glitter.

"Don't blame me," he warned in advance. "Rikku helped me pick."

"You… you got Rikku to help you pick it for me?"

Tidus studied her strange expression, trying to translate it. Months ago, without having known the pain of her absence, he might have brushed aside her quiet, tremulous response. Now though… having lived through that wound, having overcome it, having challenged those iron bars, Tidus had earned a new degree of subtlety in reading the southern girl. He realized how much he'd come to know her, what intimacy might really mean for them.

Catching her around the waist, he rested his forehead against hers, eyes promising mischief. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't buy my girl presents once in a while?" He kept his voice low, taking advantage of her sudden shyness. "Now I can call you at 5am before I go to Blitz practice and see your bed hair."

"You will not!" she said, cheeks flaring pink.

"That a challenge?"

"C-certainly not!" she returned, striving for confidence and failing. She seemed very nervous at their proximity, and played with a buckle on his uniform to avert her eyes. It was adorable.

"Tidus?"

"Hmm?" he answered lazily. Her skin was just the right warmth, the temperature of sand. My girl, he thought, wanting to repeat the words aloud, over and over. She's my girl.

"Do you realize this is the first time we've spent the whole day together? I mean, in the sun?"

Did I realize? He had lain awake the night before with the realization, the new opportunities that lay together at their feet, a dawn that had finally come.

Under the Zanarkand sky, strands of Yuna's hair had drunk in the sunlight. It suited her. Tidus longed to touch it, just there where the nut-brown tended to gold. "Yuna," he assured her, "I noticed."

Yuna

Their little group had taken a pitiless kind of pleasure in their new union. Rikku could barely contain her glee, Wakka teased, and even Lulu was clearly pleased with the development, judging from the shadow of a smile on her face every time she caught their hands entwined.

"He-ey, if it isn't the lovebirds!" Wakka greeted.

Blushing, Yuna buried her face in Tidus' shoulder. The Blitzer pressed his gloved hand to the back of her head in a protective gesture, though his voice was as full of warm laughter as ever. "Hey, quit hasslin' my girl."

"You guys are so adorable," Gippal deadpanned.

"Ignore him, Yuna," Lulu added dryly as she approached, her arms neatly folded. "It's been a while since we've observed Gippal with any girl." That silenced the Al Bhed quickly enough.

"I have a date!" Rikku chirped.

"What," said Gippal.

"You do?" said Yuna delightedly at the same time. "Who with?"

"Nikolaj. He asked me out at the Blitz Ball."

"He's a moron," blurted Gippal.

"You think everyone is a moron," Rikku replied unaffected, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. "Anyway, he can put a T-Bolt engine together in under five minutes."

"He told you that, did he?" The mechanic looked annoyed.

"I think it's wonderful, Rikku," Yuna interjected. "My date can't put together a T-Bolt engine in under five minutes."

"You don't even know what a T-Bolt engine is!" Tidus said incredulously.

"Why, do you?" she pointed out, and was tickled for her troubles.

The noise of their merry little group rose up and joined the streets of Zanarkand. Rikku bounded along, happy as sky, Gippal arguing closely at her heels.

Tidus and Wakka threw the limited edition Blitzball between them, full of energy, and Yuna, of course, fell naturally into place beside Lulu. In moments like these it was wonderful to be silent and drink in the welcome return of her old life – or, perhaps she should say, her new one.

"How are you feeling, Yuna?" Lulu ventured with her usual delicacy, knowing of course the subject most pressing on Yuna's mind.

"Calmer," answered Yuna after some hesitation. Then, smiling, a little timidly, "Unsure." She shared an intimacy with Lulu now that even Tidus could not penetrate; that of knowing Auron. Yet still the mage would always wear a veil that separated herself from those she called her friends. And perhaps even from her husband, Yuna thought. She herself had always been unsure how deeply she could tread into Lulu's own secrets. "How did you feel Lulu, when you and…"

"That was a far more complicated affair," Lulu replied, curiously. She made a dismissive motion with her hand. "But I was full of doubts. Doubts of our natures, doubts of the life we could have together. And I did not trust Zanarkand. Such a sparkling city… it seemed so very false to me in my youth." The long pins in the mage's hair clicked as she walked. "But Wakka… well, he gave me hope, and I had not felt hope in a long time."

"Do you love Zanarkand now?" Yuna asked. There was a touch of something desperate in her question; Zanarkand had never been false for her, and she did not want to believe it could be. The city of lights was life, like a heartbeat or a pulse, full of promise.

"Not as you do. I do not have it in me to love as you do, Yuna."

You're wrong, thought Yuna at once. Yet the thought caught in her throat and would not leave. It was clear that the death of Lulu's Summoner had left a scar on the mage's heart; the ripples of it were pressed into her every expression, the quiet and the fierce. Perhaps as old as she was, as wise as she seemed, the mage still had lessons ahead of her. That she can feel so deeply… how many years has it been, yet still Lulu has not recovered, Yuna thought sadly. She loves more even than she knows.

Later, she lay on the harbour bench with her head in Tidus' lap and soaked in the voices of her friends. Lulu was observing the twinkle of lights across the bay as Gippal named the ships for her, and the excavations they were due to sail on. Wakka and Rikku passed Al Bhed mintcake between them and took turns dipping their toes in the water.

It was warm still, summer not yet past, and large red damselflies skated across the baywater. Yuna could only drink it all in. The temperature of the air, Rikku's tender laughter, the harbour-glow. She suddenly had a sense of how fleetingly precious it all was.

"Something you wanna tell me?"

Tidus had been watching her as she ruminated, she realized. Framed in the fading sunlight, his expectant face was warm, wonderful. "Just thinking," she placated.

"That's not it," he said gently. "You're looking at things like it's the last time you're gonna see them."

He laughed at her startled expression. "Can't take the job out of the girl, huh?" His voice never lost its tenderness. "You're not going to end up in one of those Sending caskets anytime soon, Yuna. You've got to start learning to take each day as it comes. Try it my way for a while. Okay?"

"Okay," she whispered, smiling.

"Still blushing," he teased dangerously.

To prove herself, Yuna lifted her head and offered a kiss. He slid his hand behind her head, curling his fingers in her soft brown hair, and for a moment she lost herself.

Still, when the sweetness of the kiss had subsided, uneasiness rippled in its wake. Even swept in the flush of first love, her heart had not abandoned her father. Somewhere in Spira he wandered even now, ghosts heavy at his heels.

In her heart she knew that the day was soon coming when she must face Auron with her own secrets. She knew that Lulu was deeply troubled by her own part in their duplicity, and had even gone so far as to warn Yuna she would not participate in it indefinitely. Now though, even Tidus' disapproval was coming to the surface, which she could bear even less. Moreover, he was right: the longer this deception stretched, the more hurt and anger it would sow. But the thought of a harsh word from her father… Yuna could barely even stand the thought, and did not fight when it left her entirely as Tidus dipped his head for another kiss.

Eventually the evening drew close, the mintcake dwindled and cool air pinched at their skin.

"Time to return, Yuna." Lulu slipped her arm into her husband's: Wakka had always insisted on seeing them home while Lulu was temporarily under Auron and Yuna's roof.

Tidus was close at Yuna's shoulder before she realised. "You go ahead, we'll catch up to you, Lu.'"

The group beheld them together, even now unable to let them go without mischief.

"Ohhh, I don't know if we should let Tidus walk you anywhere alone now," Rikku teased. Gippal smirked at her side and folded his arms.

"That is true," Lulu added. "Perhaps we should be protecting her honour."

Yuna tried to hide her blushing, without much success. "You are all merciless."

"Yeah, besides, it's my honour that needs protecting." Tidus grinned wickedly. "Yuna can't keep her hands off me when we're alone."

The mortified look on Yuna's flushed face provoked even a rare laugh from Lulu. Tidus knew he would have to work hard to win her forgiveness on the road home to D-West, a more tempting challenge than any Blitz game had ever offered him.

Tidus

He left Yuna with Lulu and Kimahri with her hair disheveled and her cheeks pink. He took the longest way home he knew just for the thrill of it, and as night crept in Zanarkand had never looked so damned beautiful.

For the first time in years, everything in his life was going so staggeringly right. His Blitz had never been on greater form, his team had never flown so high. His wingman had his back again, stronger even than before. He and Jecht had left behind years of tension and silence and anger and replaced it with something new, tender, hopeful.

And Yuna…

Before Yuna his only dream was to be Captain of the Abes one day. Now his dreams stretched farther. Maybe one day his old man might come to see one of his games. Might even cheer him on. Might even be proud of him. He dreamed that maybe one day he'd see Yuna's Besaid. Maybe see the whole of Spira with her. Take the sadness from her eyes. Walk on water. Dreams filled him like rain.

To know for sure that he would keep her with him, always; that he had a constant sanctuary in her. He suspected this is how the elder generation had felt when the Eternal Calm finally rolled around; an offering of a future. An offering of some kind of peace.

The houseboat lights were on by the time he finally approached Zanarkand D-East harbour; Jecht was awake. It wasn't wholly unexpected. Yesterday he had even left some breakfast for Tidus - nothing short of a miracle.

As anticipated, Jecht had settled in the salon, swallowed in his throne of a chair. Not a beer bottle to be seen, Tidus noted happily.

"Waiting up for me, old man?"

The old Blitzer looked deeply uncomfortable. "That ain't it at all," he groused, shifting his shoulders. "I'm just fed up of getting woken up by you, boy. Thunderin' in any time of night, you're gonna sink the 'boat one of these days with those damned heavy sneakers of yours."

Tidus had to work hard not to smile. Jecht was a terrible liar. His awkward mutterings were far more telling than any shouting match they'd ever had. Taking pity, he planted himself on an empty patch of sofa and kicked off the offending sneakers.

"What game we watchin'?"

"Psyches and the Beasts," Jecht grunted.

A new one, Tidus realised with some surprise. Not a crusty old glory days fest. Another habit Jecht had kicked lately.

The white noise of the Psyches game worked its magic quickly, wrapping around him, effortlessly comforting in a way only sports enthusiasts could ever understand. Nevertheless, he was finding it harder than usual to concentrate on the plays. He slouched, sat up, put one leg over the other, and thought about Yuna's hair in the sunlight. The freedom to kiss her, the colour of her cheeks when he did...

Mechanically he picked up a Brawler blitzing magazine and began to absently flip through it. He tore out a section about Besaid for later. When he'd finished a Focus article on a second stadium being built in Luca, he tried his best to turn his attention to the game. Lakkam was attempting a nap tackle against Nizarut, which was clearly pointless and very sloppy. He wondered what Yuna was doing now. Probably something ladylike. Lulu's with her atleast. He imagined them duet-ing at the piano together. Or playing Cloister. Tidus shifted on the sofa. He stretched, and for a brief moment was distracted watching the moon rising through the houseboat window.

"Alright, enough of this." Tidus turned to find his father muting the ViewSphere. "What's up with you lately, boy? You goin' through puberty again?" Jecht seemed amused rather than irritated, one thick eyebrow raised in his son's direction. "One minute you got a face like a Fiend, next minute you're bouncin' off the docks, now you can't sit still enough for a nap tackle. For the love of Ifrit you were even keepin' a damn cat for a couple of weeks."

Tidus shrugged offhandedly. Perhaps socialising with Gippal again had restored his cool attitude. "There's a girl."

Jecht threw back his head and boomed with laughter. He was so loud it was embarrassing.

"A girl! I should have known!" He slapped his thigh as the last of his chuckles dissolved. "She must be something else if it's putting you through this much trouble."

Tidus glared at him defiantly for a moment, but it had little effect on dampening his father's merriment in the situation. Relenting, he sighed. "It's complicated, alright?"

"Hell, kid," Jecht said gruffly. "There ain't nothing complicated about that stuff."

"No I mean, she's… sorta sheltered, okay?" He grasped for the right words. How could he possibly explain the full weight and complexity of Yuna's situation to someone who had been, until now, an outsider to their story? "She's from a… religious family, kinda," he struggled. "She's not really… she-

"-let me guess," Jecht interjected. "Papa bear's shootin' you funny looks."

Tidus blew out a breath he'd been holding in. Close enough. "Yeah. Something like that." He would if he was given the opportunity again, anyway.

Jecht slapped his son on the back, hard. "Well what'd you expect, boy? You shoulda met your mom's old man. Chased me outta the house with a Saber once first time we was courtin'. He's just testin' ya."

The mere mention of his mother was a quiet shock to Tidus; still more for Jecht to have dropped a story from the past so carelessly. They looked at each other for a lingering moment, an acknowledgment of sorts.

Jecht's discomfort won out first; he made an effort to clear his throat. "Well, ain't I gettin' to see the girl?"

Tidus shook his head in exasperation, smiling. He dug into the back pocket of his black shorts and pulled out his CommSphere. He swiped through the memory bank with a finger until he found the recording he was looking for, then offered it up to Jecht.

Yuna materialized inside the Sphere, her heart-shaped face bathed in amber light, bangs falling over her eyes. "And what did you say is the purpose of this?" she was asking uncertainly in the recording. "It's just to register you in my CommSphere directory," came Tidus' voice out of shot. "You just have to tell it your name, CommSphere code and who you think is the most handsome guy in Zanarkand." The momentary furrowing of Yuna's eyebrows was irresistible. "Who I think is the – Tidus, how could you! Give that to me!" The sound of her laughter sparkled as the recording faded into static.

As many times as he had played it back, even now the memory could still raise a smile to Tidus' face. Jecht lifted an eyebrow, handing back the CommSphere. "Ain't she a little proper for you?"

"I was waiting for that one," Tidus replied dryly. He tucked the sphere back in his pocket and settled back into the couch, reaching his arms behind his head to stretch. He unmuted the ViewSphere and let the game flare into being once more.

The Psyches had been beating the Beasts soundly for many minutes before Jecht suddenly spoke again, as if he had been letting the image of Yuna percolate for some time. "She got a… look to her," he said, uncharacteristically thoughtful. "Bevellian?"

"Yeah," said Tidus, kicking his feet up on the table and pulling a packet of dried gourd potato chips closer to him.

"But she ain't been around here before?" Jecht clarified. "With those other brats?" Tidus assumed he meant Gippal and Rikku, the only friends he'd ever had to visit regularly as a child.

"No, Dad," Tidus said around a mouthful of chips, "She just moved here."

That seemed to end the interrogation to Jecht's satisfaction, at least out loud. They settled, father and son, into the comfortable male chaos of sneakers and cheap snacks and Blitzball roars.

"You should take her over here some time," Jecht murmured. His eyes were on the game, but there was something new and meaningful carrying in his voice.

Tidus had never forgotten Yuna's vulnerable request that evening in the sphere garden. Would you take me to your home one day? she'd asked him.

"Count on it, old man."

Baralai

When Isaaru set down the teacup on the stone table, the Praetor started so violently that the candle almost set his papers aflame.

Baralai chided himself; it was too like him to get overly absorbed in his work as the evening grew dark around him, the shadows flickering against the old Temple walls enough to obscure any visitor's approach. Electric enhancements were for the most part discouraged in their faith; he himself found the degree of Zanarkand's technological enlightenment bordering on the distasteful. It was undeniably a sentiment which pulled together the members of New Yevon; an attachment to the old ways.

"What are you working on?" asked Isaaru politely whilst pouring.

"I was just cataloguing some services for the coming week," Barali murmured. "We have a marriage in two days, some consultations… a few initiation ceremonies."

"I had not intended to interrupt, but there is someone to see you."

It was full late to admit parishioners, but New Yevon could not afford to turn down potential new members of the flock at this time. We are already hemorrhaging followers to the Youth League at a rather alarming rate.

"Thankyou." The tea had a hot and smoky aroma, flavoured with paupou. Baralai reached for the cup and pulled it closer to his papers. "Please, send them in."

Isaaru scurried towards the door with an unnecessary urgency. Baralai despaired at times of the way the boy acted like a servant even though he had never been employed in such a capacity. Isaaru's family was one who had taken the fall of Yevon hard, and to witness the boy's subservient manner, one would have thought they still lived in those times of blind obedience and duty.

Baralai himself had loved the Temples as a child: the crackling of the torches, the richness of the tapestries, the trial of the Cloisters. The rumbling hymms of the Guado, the ornate silk of robes brushing the stone. To learn it had all been a lie had not been easy for his family, either. But that was the very purpose of New Yevon: to help others navigate the waters of change. Though some are more difficult to guide than others, he thought wearily.

The man that Isaaru eventually ushered in was short in stature, yet somehow cast a long shadow. He had the look of a eunuch – stout and hairless, with a pair of small, fine eyes set in a face of otherwise wide features. Instantly Baralai could recognise that here was a man who had known Yevon deeply, and had not walked into the Eternal Calm without scars.

"Good evening," the man said, and bowed deeply. Having almost forgotten his manners in his careful study of the stranger, Baralai too inclined his head in greeting. Isaaru retreated somewhat, but remained in the room, standing by the candlelight in wait of a task to be given to him.

Baralai gestured beside him. "Won't you take a seat?"

"I thank you, but no. It is late, and I do not intend to take much of the Praetor's precious time."

"Not at all," said Baralai. Inexplicably, he curled his hands more tightly around his tea, feeling suddenly cold. He noticed the man had not yet given his name.

"Then I will come directly to my business. My sister's daughter, my niece, has long been ailing, and her time draws near. We have both thought it prudent to put plans in place before then. I come to New Yevon to ask if they can offer a suitable Sender for the sorry deed."

It was strange, Baralai thought, that he did not sense much grief from this stranger for bearing the weight of a tale so very tragic. Yet it was one of New Yevon's guiding principles not to judge, and not to pry. He believed in those principles utterly. They have never done me wrong thus far.

"New Yevon witnesses your pain and will help you carry this burden," Baralai quoted dutifully. "Of course we can offer you these services. Our Father Zuke is an honourable Sender. He was once a Summoner-in-training before the Calm."

"Ah." The stranger stepped forward, his lips thinning. "If I may be… delicate for a moment, dear Praetor. My sister has a sensitive spirit and a tender soul. I believe she was deeply hoping for a Lady Sender to guide her daughter to the next life. One old enough to perform the task, but not old enough to have forgotten her own girlhood. Do you know of such a person?"

Baralai looked back at him, considering. The request was not wholly unusual, though not many had turned down Zuke in the past. And of course, there was such a person in his acquaintance who met this description utterly.

"I may know of a match," Baralai said at last, hesitant even as he said the words aloud. "But first I must make inquiries."The man bowed once more, smiling. "That is all I ask. New Yevon has the gracious thanks of myself and my sister. I will return tomorrow."

They exchanged their leavetakings, and Isaaru hurried to hold the door for the man. Baralai frowned. The stranger had never offered his name, in the end. And the smile had been… somewhat strange, given the context of their meeting. New Yevon does not judge, he reminded himself firmly.

"We must think of Yuna," Isaaru suggested excitedly as he rushed back to Baralai, always eager to please. "She is exactly what they are looking for, is she not?"

"Yes, evidently," Baralai agreed. "But she is not on our roster, and so we must first ask for her permission privately in this matter." I do not think she would turn down a soul in need. But would the association with Yevon dissuade her? The black mage was always at the girl's shoulder, and he knew how much Lulu disapproved of their group. Still, if he could make his case directly to Yuna...

"Do you think she is likely to join our cause?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, no. And yet… she was interested in some of the archives. Bevelle Temple if I recall." His brow creased. "The monks, in particular. Very odd. And there is something about her I… can't quite place."

In truth, Yuna had made an impression on Baralai from the first. Of course, she could not help but stand out amongst the cacophonous, careless youth of Zanarkand. There was so much of the old world in her manner and dress. Baralai had always found her deeply elegant, her presence like a hymn, magnetic, inspiring reverence and quiet. At the Blitz Ball, he had scarcely realised what he was saying when he had asked her to dance. And then, that boy...

Something must have betrayed his face, because Isaaru smiled at him. "You're very fond of the Sender," he observed softly.

Baralai laughed a little; a careful, harnessed laughter that did not let itself be truly carried. "She's not for me, alas," he said, trying for humour, though it came out forced.

"Why not for you?" Isaaru asked with what appeared to be genuine surprise. "You are by no means an unsuitable match for one such as her."

The Praetor felt something akin to sympathy towards Isaaru at this innocent observation. The smile he directed at the boy was gently meant. "If you do not know, then it is not for me to say." He turned back to his papers, and tried not to think of Yuna, or wonder what might have happened had he met her in the old world, one where rank and duty had mattered.

Isaaru silently finished tidying away the tea and left him to his duty. The young man would have gladly shared in the burden, Baralai knew, taken pleasure in it even, but he was not a man who shared easily. The candlewax slowly diminished, and as he bent over his work, he knew he would leave there with ash beneath his fingernails.

Author's Notes

I know guys, I know. But I made it before the 10 year mark atleast! Right?! *dodges rotten vegetables*

Though I've read fanfic on and off during the years, lockdown boredom sent me into a flurry of re-reading some of my old favourites (albeit usually in a different fandom to FFX), and eventually I did come back to my own page, and read some of the beautiful reviews that have been waiting for me through the years, even as recent as the past few months. A heartfelt thanks to those of you who did, because that's exactly what made me sit down one week and think 'you know what? let's do it'. I have barely written a thing in the last nine years, so I'm not sure my writing is particularly refined these days, but I think it will be good to practice and see if I can re-immerse myself in this hobby and find joy in it again.

There was so much of the rest of this story in draft fortunately: my problem had always been the overarching background plot and how juvenile it felt. I just wanted to write a love story, but always felt I had to build that around something, and unfortunately that something is nonsensical and full of holes. All I can hope is that like myself, most of you are are here for Tidus and Yuna, not for the surrounding drama.

I say 'most of you'; I don't know if many of you are still interested in this fandom so many years later, and the ending of this fic may be for a far smaller audience than at the beginning. But those reviews make me believe even that would be more than worth it.