The-Lady-Isis and ffxlodgirl, thank you both for continuing to review this story! I'm glad you both like it so far. Sorry it took so long to get out, I made some major changes from the original chapter. (Mostly in Auron's part).

I don't own FFX, although I do own…a copy of the videogame.

Back and Forth

Images

"So…question…"

I drown Tidus out. Seriously, when does he not have a question?

This place still gives me the creeps. Everything about it is designed to make you feel small and insignificant.

I'm not sure whether it's so they can feel better than you, or some sort of crazy making yourself feel even worse before visiting the Farplane.

That would be Yevon for you.

"You're thinking those funny thoughts again, ya? You'll see once we get there," Wakka chides him.

I sit down on the railing. There's no way I'm ever going in there.

Pops taught me when I was a little kid about how Yevon tries to keep people stuck and preoccupied with the past while controlling your life in the present. I'm not getting caught in their trap.

"Aren't you coming?" Tidus asks.

I open my mouth to respond, but immediately shut it when I realize he's actually addressing Auron.

"I do not belong there," Auron responds.

I quirk an eyebrow.

Really…

So Mister Stoic doesn't want to go into the Farplane. I would have assumed, being a former warrior monk and all, he'd be jumping at the chance.

"Something's fishy…," I say under my breath.

"Searching the past to find the future," Auron continues. "I need it not. You'd better get going."

Tidus seems to be stalling. Maybe he's scared or something.

"You're not really going to see the dead," I say. He's kind of annoying, but a good guy, really. I hope he doesn't get caught up in all this Yevon crap.

"More like your memories of them. People think of their relatives, and the pyreflies react to them. They take on the form of the dead person—an illusion, nothing else."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Auron looking at me curiously.

Crap!

I may have given myself away that I'm not a complete idiot.

"Well, have fun!" I say to Tidus, as he is still stalling outside of the barrier.

"What? You're not going inside either, Rikku?"

His voice is mildly panicked. I can sympathize. There's nothing like finding out that you'll have to go it alone.

We're kind of alike, he and I.

I shrug.

"I keep my memories inside," I say, crossing an arm over my chest.

He continues to stare at me, confused.

I wonder if it's because he's not from here, or because he's just an idiot.

I guess we're not that alike.

"Memories are nice, but that's all they are," I say, shrugging.

Tidus won't stop staring at me, looking confused.

Seriously, are you that stupid?

If he doesn't understand yet, maybe the Farplane will actually knock some sense into him, since he doesn't seem to believe in Yevon anyway.

I lean back against the cool railing, smiling and making a 'shooing' motion with my hands.

He still seems pretty terrified.

I laugh as he stumbles through the iridescent barrier.

"You," Auron says.

I look over to where he had been standing only to realize he had silently moved and the voice had come from right next to me.

Behind my own ear practically.

I shudder.

"Gahh! You big meanie! Don't scare people like that!"

I wave my arms in an exaggerated fashion, until one of them catches.

Looking down I realize that Auron is holding my wrist in a vice-like grip.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?" I explode, trying to wrench my wrist away from his.

Admittedly, I've had some more…

…entertaining…

…fantasies about this man.

But this is ridiculous.

"You're not as dumb as you want them to think that you are, are you?"

It's said in an accusatory tone, and the stupid man has yet to let go of my wrist.

His eye is squinting at me, and I can't help my thoughts from wandering to how far down his body that scar actually goes.

His scent isn't helping at all either. It's weird, like a musty smell of a really old carpet.

Mixed with incense and alcohol…blech.

"Let. Go. Of. Me," I demand, bristling my entire body to appear as imposing as possible.

As if someone like me could appear threatening to him.

Yeah, right.