Saidan no Hitsuji

Chapter Two: Cécité (Blindness)

By Seishuku Skuld (skuldchan@gmail.com)

All warnings are on the first chapter! Go there for warnings and random babbling from me. ^_^ **grins** If you haven't noticed, I'm using several different languages for titles! They were obtained thanks to Babelfish (no, I don't actually speak all these languages), if there's anything wrong, please let me know and I'll fix it pronto! ^_^

Some dialogue taken directly from the game, courtesy of Ffnet.net. ^_^

Musical Inspiration: Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 5

Handel's "La Giustizia" Aria

(How incredibly unfitting for what I'm writing. ^^;;)

Chop Suey (System of a Down)

Awake (Godsmack)

NOIR - Salva Nos

Interesting smattering of musical tastes, desu ne? ^_~

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

nagareru namida wa mou karehate

chi ni ueta kodoku

The flowing tears are already withering,

Blood from starving loneliness.

- NOIR: Coppelia's Coffin

There he was, drunk off his ass, again. For the umpteenth time. I wasn't sure I had ever seen him completely sober.

"What are you shooting at?" he growled, his head rolling back into the reeds by the Moonflow. I was holding a sphere and capturing the scene of him lying prostrate on the ground. It gave me a kind of pleasure to know that I was preserving this memory of him, helpless and drunk for all posterity.

"So you don't do anything stupid again," I retorted. "I can't believe you attacked that shoopuf! Lord Braska had to pay the handler damages from his own travel money."

"I said I was sorry!" Jecht protested. He was probably starting to feel some of the after-effects of his strong drink wearing off. I certainly hoped so; it was a morbid kind of glee. "It's never gonna happen again! I promise!"

"Ah, a promise?" I growled, trying my best not to sneer. Such an expression would not be fit in Braska's peaceful presence. "A promise which you'll forget come tomorrow!" I stated contemptuously. It was likely he'd forget his words the very next morning. I was beginning to wonder why I hadn't pounded him into the ground yet. I still didn't understand why Braska had insisted on dragging spare baggage like him along.

"Auron, please," Braska interjected placing a gentle arm on my shoulder to calm me down. He looked tired and worried. I frowned a bit at the weariness which showed on his features. I would forget my quarrel with Jecht if it would ease Braska's suffering. I gave a Jecht a meaningful glance which meant he should shut up.

"He did apologize," Braska continued smoothly, "he knows he was wrong."

I was not happy about backing down, but I think Jecht caught my look. He stood up immediately, feigning that he was not as drunk as he really was.

"That's it," he said in the steadiest voice he could muster, "Only thing I drink from now on is shoopuf milk!"

"You're sure?" Braska asked, a slow smile spreading across his face, temporarily washing away the lines of worry which had covered his expression only moments before. It appeared as if Jecht was surprising him, but I was unconvinced the drunkard was genuine.

"We're on a journey to save Spira right?" he said. I rolled my eyes and looked off to the side. He still didn't understand. He thought it was all some sort of game or afternoon adventure. Braska didn't have the heart to tell him the truth, and neither did I. It was a truth too painful to face.

"If I keep screwin' up...and...making a fool of myself..." I could tell he was having trouble speaking. Then his voice faltered and I wondered if it was the drink or something else.

"...my wife and kid are never going to forgive me." Jecht hung his head after saying that, and became very quiet. But I couldn't resist one last barb, it was too fitting for what he'd done.

"That's on the record," I snorted. He would be lucky if he remembered what he said in the morning, but I immediately regretted saying that. Jecht was quiet for a long time afterward. He sat on the ground hugging his knees tight, his gaze locked on a space in front of him, seeing a place and time far away from here.

It was his wife and child, I knew. He would tell us once about them sometimes, when he was feeling particularly cheerful and obnoxious. I never believed those stories, just like the tale of his Zanarkand he was either extremely delusional or imaginative. But when I saw him sit silently that day, I knew it was true, everything he'd told us. Not that it made tolerating him any easier.

"I'm sorry," Braska sighed, suddenly snapping out of his own reverie. "We'll find some way to get your back to your family, Jecht," he promised.

Jecht smiled wanly, his alcohol-clouded eyes lighting up at the mention of his loved ones. But it wasn't long before sunk in his reflective shell again, gazing off into a sky he didn't see.

"We should be crossing the Moonflow as soon as a boat arrives," Braska murmured as he turned back to the inn we were staying at. We were lucky the owner was kind and accommodating, and offered us a room for free.

"If we have money to pay the ferryman," I said. I looked over to Jecht to see if he heard my comment. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and turned away, still silent. I snorted and hoped we could once again count on the kindness of the people of Spira.