Saidan no Hitsuji

Chapter Nine: Coppelia's Heartbeat

By Seishuku Skuld (skuldchan@gmail.com)

Edited by Tsukiyono Omi (omi_tenshi@hotmail.com)

Aa...this isn't all that great of a chapter, gomen nasai! I intended it to be slightly more angsty and gothic than it turned out...

But that just didn't seem to fit Auron anymore, it's turned out so different than when I first sat down to write it after the first chapter. **sweatdrop**

Anyhoo, hope you guys like it anyway. It seems that a couple of people have been clamoring for a happy ending and more chapters, so here's what I'm telling you guys:

1) The ending will not be as depressing and angsty as the rest of the fic. If you want to interpret that as a 'happy' ending, go ahead.

2) I am writing an extra chapter after the fic is finished. It is sort of side-story-ish, and doesn't fit well into the general flow of my piece. It's Chapter 5.5 if you're wondering where it fits in chronologically, so you can probably guess what that chapter is. ^_^ **grins**

3) There will be 14 chapters total, plus my little extra tack-on. I anticipate to be finished with this piece by the end of April.

Okay, that's all I have to say for now. Enjoy this little chapter.

~*~*~*~*~*~

KOPPERIA no kodou

ikiru koto wa itami wo shiru koto

Coppelia's heartbeat,

It must know the pain of living

-NOIR: Coppelia no Hitsugi

I had completed Braska's wish, but Jecht's still remained unfulfilled. I died with regret, with a hole in my life, things yet undone. Dying is a bitch. Living again is much worse. I opened my eye in the middle of the night. I was lying on a soft bed, crisp white linen sheets covering my body. I sat up, groaning, as events and memories came flooding back. I was back in Spira, I'd left the Farplane. I left it for Jecht, for his promise, for his son which he bequeathed to me. I couldn't leave until I'd done what I told him I'd do. I couldn't abandon my lover's wishes, so I pulled myself back together through sheer willpower.

I pulled my battered corpse and reformed it with my mind, easily the most draining thing I'd ever done in my life. It was a horrible mockery of life, that. I breathed like any living being, I bled, my heart beat. I was in almost every way, identical to a living human. Those who did not have the keen sense of the Guado would never be able to tell I was unsent. It was a terrible, sickening feeling, that I'd become one of things which Spira dreaded the most.

I wanted rest, I didn't want to bear this burden. I was tired, and living again after seeing the Farplane was so hard. My only thought was that I lived because of Jecht, because if I gave up now I would have to wait a long time before seeing him. We would go the Farplane together, I swore that to myself the first night we made love. Nothing would change that.

I slipped out of the bed, I was in a simple room, a cheap inn in Bevelle. Kimahri must have brought me here. I wanted to ask him why, but he was nowhere in sight, and I didn't have time. I sneaked out, and into the moonlit landscape below. It was quiet, no tension that night as for the first time in years, the people slept soundly in their beds knowing that Sin was defeated. For the most part. I couldn't repress a bitter chuckle, wondering what they'd say if they knew that my lover, one of High Summoner Braska's guardians, was Sin.

No, not Sin, not yet. I shook my head. He was still Jecht, I was sure of it. Now all I had to do, was find Zanarkand. Not my Zanarkand, the decaying city in ruins, but the great machina city Jecht had described to me. A city where it was perpetually light, built on the water, a city whose people never slept. The mere notion of that baffled me.

Where would I find that Zanarkand? I didn't know. All I knew was that Jecht was carried here by Sin, or so he claimed. That meant I had to find Sin, I had to find Jecht again. I wanted to see him again. I knew he was close, I could feel his presence. But where? I thought for a moment. If Jecht was still himself, he would be hiding, in a place where no one would find him, a quiet, isolated space where he could fight his own internal battle with Yevon. There was only one place where the people of Spira feared to tread. Zanarkand.

This is starting to become repetitive, I thought with a smile. To Zanarkand. Again.

***

I stopped my journey when I passed the wall of the fayth. I remembered how Jecht had fallen unconscious after touching it. There must have been something the fayth had done to him, I decided to figure out what it was.

I reached my hand out, the mist rising up to curl around my outstretched hand, pulling a few pyreflies from my body. I ignored it, my palm coming in contact with the cool stone of the wall. Then my world was upside down, inside out, a wild myriad of colors, and suddenly black.

::Welcome to Zanarkand.::

Who had spoken? I looked around, before me, a sprawling city of lights, roads, people. It was amazing, like nothing I had ever seen before in my life. I'd never seen so many people, a city so live, so thriving. Water cascaded from the towers, spilling into the ocean. Tall lighted spires reached towards the sky, like a giant spreading its fingers. Was this Zanarkand?

I turned around, and before me was a small child, hooded in violet. A fayth?

::This is our unending dream.::

"I don't understand.I need to go to Zanarkand, not some dream." Confusion, uncertainty.

::Zanarkand is a dream.::

"What?" Still confusion, uncertainty.

::Take my hand.::

The small figure extended a hand towards me. I looked at it for a moment, weighing my risks. Hellfire, I was dead, what I could I lose? The fayth knew something, they planned something. I knew they told Jecht something, that time when he fainted. Would they tell me the same? Would I see Jecht again? Fine. I took the child's hand in my own.

It was as if a million images at once came and assaulted me, passing in blurs of colour before speeding off into oblivion again. I had barely time to comprehend them before other senses and emotions came. It was a barrage of information, feelings, and memories like no other I had or would ever experience.

Yevon. Summoning. Zanarkand. Blitzball. School. Books. Parents. Love. Life. Fear. Happiness. War. Bevelle. Singing. Prayer. Destruction. Death. Tears. Dreams.

I staggered backwards, losing my footing and falling. I landed on the ground, the wall of the fayth jarring into my vision. They lay there quietly in their tombs of stone. Dreaming. Of Zanarkand. Of everything that was their world. I was amazed, baffled. That one moment had conveyed thousands of years of experience, history, and I sat on the ground, listening to gurgling pool nearby, trying to digest it all.

How was I supposed to help a dream? A million hows, whys, and wherefores echoed through my mind, as I dizzily got to my feet. First things first. Find Jecht. See Jecht again. Then worry about other things.

***

I stood on the summit overlooking Zanarkand. It was strangely beautiful at night, little lights floating above the crumbling structures, like little lamps. The wind blew fiercely, stinging my cheek, whipping my hair about my face.

"Jecht!" I called out, steeling myself against the wind which felt like it was trying to knock me down. "Jecht! I know you're out there!" There was no answer, just a feeling of incredible Jecht-ness as I waited, listening to the howl of the wind. "Jecht..." I whispered, sinking to my knees, wishing his arms were around me again. I'd give anything for that again, even if it was for a second.

I was dead, and my love for him still hurt, my only solace was that he felt the same yearning for me. He was out there, trapped in the unending spiral of Sin, summoning, and Yevon. I wondered if the pain he felt equaled my own. No, it must be worse. That kept me going. I had to free Spira. I had to free him.

My body was cold as ice, my tormented limbs moving as if attached with strings to the song of some sick puppeteer. I disgusted myself, what I was. I was a fiend, one of the greatest fears of Spira. This was a world I did not belong in, a world which tore the fabric of my existence, threatening to rend me to shreds and send me to the Farplane. But there were things I need to do. I needed to keep my promise. I did it for Jecht. Because we belonged together. Because I was all he had. Because I loved him with everything I had.

"Jecht! Tell me how to get to Zanarkand! Tell me how to reach Tidus!" I waited again. I would wait here for as long as he needed to show himself. Was he ashamed? Was he frightened? There was a low rumbling sound, and what had at first looked like a mound of rubble began to move. It was Jecht! It lifted its bulk up, moving towards me slowly.

I smiled, and everything I'd been through up until now had been worth it just to be with him for a short time. I hoped he felt the same.

He didn't speak to me, but merely hovered in front of me, as close as he could, waiting for my words.

"Jecht," I strode to him, put my hand on his heavy, armoured arm. I must have been so small to him, as tiny as a mouse would be sitting in my hand.

"Auron," his voice rumbled, like a quiet, gentle quake rippled through earth.

"Jecht...take me to Zanarkand."

He didn't say anything, but merely nodded. He needed all this strength to take me to Zanarkand and fight off Yu Yevon. I understood. This would be the last time I'd be seeing him, in a long time. He'd take me to the dream of the fayth, the same way the previous incarnation of Sin took him to Spira.

"Thank you, Jecht," I smiled as I hopped into his hand and closed my eyes as Jecht rose into the air and flew off, flying high over the seas. The world began to bulge in a bubble, the seas becoming spherical, blurred. I toppled over, the dizziness overcoming me.

The next thing I knew, I was standing in a roadway, and people were all around me, talking, giggling, laughing, taking no notice of me. The city around me was alive, it thrived off the people, the lights, the emotion. It was Zanarkand, exactly as the child fayth showed to me.

I knew exactly where I was, I recognized each person walking past me, though I'd never met them before. I knew the way to Jecht's house, or his boat rather, and I knew exactly what to say to the child and his mother. I began walking, trying to melt into the crowd. They kept about their business, though I felt slightly self-conscious.

Above me was a billboard with a portrait of Jecht, here he was hailed as one of the greatest blitzball players ever to enter the Blitz Sphere. He wore the same triumphant look he had when we defeated a particularly difficult fiend. It was a sort of arrogant, confident look, but also one of kindness and amiability.

"Hello Jecht," I whispered as I walked beneath him, heading towards his family to deliver my sad news. "Goodbye...for now."