I'm so tired...nothing to say. x_x Wait for revisions for some words of wisdom, huh?

Warnings: Surrealism...ish...ness. @_@ Angst. No real ending. Oh, yeah, and some shounen-ai.

Fun with Disclaimer: Square owns them, I'm wondering if they're willing to accept a layaway plan. I /want/. Title stolen from a Cure song, because right now I'm too damn /tired/ to think of an original one. ^^;;

Random: Miri-chan has just received a nomination for the Rurouni Kenshin Reader's Choice award. See Miri-chan in a euphoric state of bliss and exhaustion. Whee.

to wish impossible things
a final fantasy x fanfic by miriya valentine

...and you'll never know, dear
just how much i loved you
you'll probably think this was
just my big excuse
but i stand committed
to a love that came before you
and the fact that i adore you
is but one of my truths...
-- Ani Difranco, school night

He woke to the sound of an opening door. Hushed, like the whisper of the dead -- he heard it like a thousand alarms and opened his eye.

It was still night. Rain pattered a comforting rhythm against the window, sliding down the glass, catching hold of old layers of dust as if searching for something to hold on to; the rain pulled the dust down the window with it, leaving streaks. Through the dirty pane the moon shone through the clouds, suspended between shapeless trees.

Footsteps were coming closer -- he kept watching the falling rain, and felt cold.

"Auron?" The voice was soft and just a little hesitant, barely more than an exhaled whisper. It trickled fear and insecurity.

Like a death-sigh when the uncharted universe within a slowing heart begins to crumble...

He closed his eye again. "You should be sleeping, Tidus. Go back to bed."

Because without sleep, one will die...unless, of course, one is already dead. Sleep is the realm of dreams, a fitting place for the servant who is naught more than dream itself.

The room went silent. Auron could sense Tidus standing near the side of his bed, and he took a deep breath.


How many ways can one say a name? How many of those emotions have been gifted a name? How long...how long before it stops hurting? Could one go mad?

He shivered and sighed. "What do you want?"

Too cold. In every place, things are hidden -- a voice is a wonderful place to hide things.

The bed moaned as another's weight was added to it. Tidus looked down at Auron's shadowed, carefully empty face, looking for a sign of life.

"Auron...what is it that you see when you look at me?"

Dreams are funny things; like the mind, they can play tricks on you. If you don't open your eyes, your mind can tell you that it is indeed only a dream. Is it the opening, the awakening, that gives reality life?

An eye opened to moonlight and shadow and pale, trembling skin. Blonde hair shone like white-gold, tousled and wild; two large eyes like glittering oceans at night blinked within a wraparound darkness.

Eyes are the window to the soul, or so they say.

He saw a child crying in a dark room, clutching at a weathered teddy bear and a dead mother's green sweater.

Eyes held sorrow then. Was that a broken soul, or just tattered innocence? Was it both?

He saw a child staring out at the sea, fists clenched, muttering half-hearted curses to a lost father's treachery.

Eyes held anger and inexplainable grief. Did the child know why his tears could not stop?

He saw a young man laughing and smiling at him, pointing to a scoreboard and yelling louder than anybody else in the entire arena.

Eyes held joy and fierce pride. Since the beginning of human existence, man has rarely reveled in anything above the ultimate elation of victory.

He saw a young man who quaked in fear as his world shattered around him in a wave of death.

Eyes held horror and terror, then. One can only stay sheltered so long -- there is no real way to prepare one for reality. Especially if one lives a dream.

And then he saw another -- a man who stared pleadingly at him, chained to the darkness by a thousand screams, wrapped in the heavy bonds of death and suffering.

He saw his heart.

Eyes held nothing that could not be seen within. Even if one were to think of the self as an empty thing, to look upon one's own soul and touch truth is profound.

To give one's heart completely to another, too, is profound. Even if, in the end, there is nothing left but an empty space inside your aching chest where it used to sit.

He stared at the boy beside him, at the shimmering halo where the moonlight touched golden hair, soft as swan down. He saw the expressive, waiting expression in shadowed ocean-eyes: his gaze trailed along the gentle slope of cheekbone where his hands didn't dare to follow. He understood the question unspoken in the shape of slightly parted lips.

He saw the hand grazing the pale flesh of throat, and didn't imagine the trembling.

There are a thousand secrets hidden in the way a body moves -- a story inside each turn of a head, each twitch of a finger. The only problem is, no one knows how to read.

He folded his hands in his lap, above the blankets. And blinked.

For a second, it wasn't a boy before him -- there was nothing there but crimson eyes and a quirky half-smile that dripped of memory and a different time of sunlight and laughter and sacrifice.

A strange thing, to almost find something you lost so many years before, knowing that it'll be gone as soon as you close your eyes. A waking dream, perhaps. One should never get so attatched to dreams that reality would be shunned so easily.

Waiting. He thought for a moment that the boy just might wait forever.

Not that he has forever, either.

He had to swallow; his mouth was dry as Sanubian sand.

"I see you."

He lied and he spoke truth.

In every lie, there is an element of truth -- that is why they are so easy to create, and so easy to believe.

Tidus squinted as he looked at Auron, as if he could divulge everything the man hadn't said. He could sense the unspoken things, but could not bring himself to understand. He understood the aching, though: it sang him a song of its own, one that made his heart fold in on itself. He lowered his hand, and for a moment, Auron thought the boy might touch him.

He sighed.

"You'll never love me like that." Tidus whispered, and smiled faintly, an ironic pull of lips. "He's like that. He took mom, too."

Perhaps he was a thief. He was like that, but he never knew it.

The boy slid off the bed and stretched. "I'm sorry I disturbed you. Good night."

"Good night, Tidus. Sleep well."

The soft clicking of the door was his only answer.

"...You're wrong, you know." Auron muttered, turning his head towards the window to watch the rain fall.

He felt cold. He felt like he was dying.

Sometimes, secrets must be kept. Sometimes, it's for the best -- truth, sometimes, will kill you. And sometimes, a secret will kill you. Either way, you'll die -- sometimes once, sometimes twice...sometimes a thousand times in the time it takes to blink an eye.

No matter how many times, though, it will always hurt the same. It doesn't matter how you die. You can never be good at it.

But one can still pretend.


thoughts: Oi...Blame the sleep deprivation, totally. I don't know what this came from, but it did -- I had the song on repeat, and it's so, so sad... *collapses on the keyboard*