"Yuna... I have to go."

To... Zanarkand...

I shook my head for the second time, as if to reiterate my previous and absolute disapproval. My denial. I shut my eyes against the bleak reality of the situation.

"I'm sorry I couldn't show you Zanarkand," my Guardian spoke, truly apologetic in both his voice and eyes. His eyes, which were bluer and sparkled more than the thousands of stars at the lake at Macalania.

The lake at Macalania, where I had first experienced that same feeling that had once left my Father an empty shell after my Mother's passing.

And with one last glance and a solemn farewell, my Guardian turned to leave.



I stood there, frozen, colder than the heart of Seymour Guado, the soulless creature who had tainted my innocence- tainted my purity of his own accord and none of my own- who had once been my forced husband under Yevon, through a ceremony witnessed by my Guardian as our hearts broke in unison atop Bevelle that day.

I stood frozen as if struck by Shiva. My thoughts began to unravel and unwind, becoming a discombobulated disjunction of spinning colors and sounds and static until all that stood out at the forefront of my existence was the final and utter comprehension that he was leaving and would never return.



The rough, concerning voice of the Ronso caught his attention. He turned to face me in my desperation. I passed right through him.


I didn't feel the hard, unforgiving, Al Bhed steel of the airship as my body made contact. He was already somewhere else. I was still right here.

I bit back hard tears with the taste of blood.

You can't go...

The pyreflies began to abscond around me. I followed them in their ascent, rising to my feet and finding my voice.

"I love you."

The subtle tinkle of silver from behind me. And then his arms. What was left of his arms, in this realm, embraced me. Suddenly, he was very real, he was solid, and in a state not unlike that of Seymour Guado's sphere of the lost city of Zanarkand, I became engulfed in his memories, his thoughts, his dreams, his ideas, his very spirit.

We're in a city.

Outside on the balcony of an apartment. Happy noise drifts through the open windows, people, and music... wonderful music that I've never heard and yet sounds so familiar and comforting. I turn to look at him standing next to me.

I 'm standing in a stadium all lit up at night, not unlike the one at Luca. Adorned in fashions not unlike my Summoner's garb, but much more revealing and without the religious predisposition. Freer. Lighter. Around me stands Wakka, Lulu, Kimahri, Rikku... Sir Auron... Sir Jecht. All smiling. Yes, even Sir Auron is smirking. Across my chest, an emblazoned Zanarkand Abes symbol. Inside my chest, I can feel the pride swelling, as though my heart is filled with hot air. Filling, like the way the Blitzball Sphere fills with water before a match. I can see him. My Guardian, star player of the Zanarkand Abes.

I cheered and cheered until I couldn't cheer anymore.

After the game, the crowd spilled into the streets and dispersed to celebrate another victory for the Abes. I hear him whistle. I whistle back. We find each other in the mass of bodies. I cling haplessly to him as the tide of people pushes and pulls at us, but I cling blissfully to the arm of the star, my Star, lest he lose me again in the crowd. I squeeze and he turns to me.

"Let's go to the sea. Before the sunrise."

The city lights go out one by one.

We lay on the beach, side by side, watching the sky. He takes my hand. Rubs his thumb softly over my delicate knuckles. He kisses me lightly on the cheek. He kisses me lightly on the lips. Soon enough and yet not soon enough, his hands are on my body and mine are on his, and we're kissing deeply and more passionately than the night at Macalania, with all the same emotion and need as before but more secure than before.

"Take me," I whisper, my voice husky. A low whine escapes my throat when his hand passes from my breast to below my navel, his expert fingers working my most sacred of places. Thoughts of Seymour Guado's elongated claws and lustful touch before our wedding drift in and out of my consciousness. I'm back on the airship for a moment, we've just defeated Sin once and for all, for all of Spira, but I'm called back to the dream by my lover's face in the apex of my thighs, kissing me, pleasing me, loving me, in such a way that I thought was lost when Seymour Guado took me for his own.

I mewl and moan and squirm and grip fistfuls of moonlight-white sand to keep quiet. His hands stroke my sides, my stomach, and legs as he works, my bare feet dipping in and out of restless, briny quicksilver as I begin to lose myself.

In an instant he's atop me, and I grab his strong, tanned back with my own frail, milky hands covered in a light dusting of powdered sand, and he kisses me as he enters me and we become one at last.

The stars fade...

Our breaths mix and mingle with the sand and the salty air as the gulls begin to call. The rest of the city has gone to sleep, waiting to awaken with the early rays of dawn. He thrusts and I thrust back, choking back cries of love and pleasure as he groans and growls and holds me close as he comes.

Then the horizon glows, almost like it's on fire.

A few more deep thrusts and he's spent, and I'm spent, and he collapses beside me with my small frame still cradled in his arms. The silica sticks to our perspiring bodies. We look each other in the eye for a long time as the sun rises, not speaking but merely catching our breath, letting our gazes say what our voices can't.

It's kind of rose-colored. First in the sea, then it spreads to the sky, then to the whole city. It gets brighter and brighter, 'til everything glows.

His breath is hot in my ear as we curl into each other on the beach, entwining in one another's arms as the cool tide rushes over us. Our clothes seem lost to the ebb and flow as they're pulled out into the ocean. He whispers that I'm beautiful. He whispers that he loves me.

The sun becomes too bright and I'm forced to close my heavy lids.

When I opened them, my mythrils of blue and green, blessings from both my Mother and Father, he was passing through me. The vision was over. The pyreflies, the Fayth, they were gone. All that was left was the decrescendo of his thudding footsteps on the airship's deck.

Take me, I begged. Take me with you.

I didn't cry.

But he was gone.

"We escaped with our skins intact, but Yuna lost something."

It's been too long since I've played FFX and written a nice little drabble for it. Yes, in this story, Seymour did rape Yuna (sorry Yuna!) but I mean, come on, she really hated Seymour... like, REALLY hated him. Yet she always seemed fearful of him as well, as if he had truly traumatized her beyond merely forcing her to marry him.

Anyway, for this fic I took the idea of Tidus fading at the end and using the subsequent pyreflies to give Yuna a vision of Zanarkand like he described in Macalania. So, in a sense, he did take her to Zanarkand after all. :')

I also like the metaphor of the sunrise being Tidus and Yuna's love ("The stars fade... it's kinda rose-colored at first... then the horizon glows... ")

Thanks for reading!