Saidan no Hitsuji

Chapter Ten: 蘇生 （Sosei：Rebirth)

By Seishuku Skuld (skuldchan@gmail.com)

Edited by Tsukiyono Omi (omi_tenshi@hotmail.com)

Another horrible chapter from Skuld-chan. **sigh**

My brain is fried right now. O_O (Oro....)

Well, this is dug out of the pits of my brain, but I hope it serves as an appropriate bridge chapter.

You might look at the dialogue at the end of the chapter and say, "Wait a minute, Auron didn't say that!" Well, he did. In the Japanese version. I took some liberties and integrated the dialogue from both the Japanese and the American versions. ^_^

This chapter is dedicated to Big Hentai Mike (again) and Omi for their support and inspiration.

***

I watched over Tidus for ten years. Ten long years in Zanarkand. After arriving, I spoke almost immediately with the boy and his mother. I told them Jecht was dead, that much was true. Mireiyu didn't question what I told her, she'd known already, had been trying to deny it. But my words struck home, and she finally had to admit to herself that her husband was dead, that she'd never see him again, and she sunk into a despair she never emerged from.

I felt a pang of jealousy as I watched her weep, her dark head bowed, erratic tears slipping from her cheeks to pool onto the floor. I wondered what kind of love she had shared with Jecht, it was obvious she was very devoted to him, and undoubtedly Jecht had loved her. She'd shared nearly ten years with the man, he was an inevitable part of her life. She cried for a long time on her knees while I did my best to comfort her, albeit awkwardly.

She thanked me when her tears finally dried, pulling herself up from the floor. Now she had business to attend to, a funeral mourning for her husband. She worked quietly, her hands and voice shaking as she spoke with friends and neighbors. All the while, young Tidus watched his mother from behind the door to his room, tears creeping down his face. They weren't for his father, but for the pain caused his mother.

Mireiyu died a few days later, her body weakening and wasting away. She fell ill, overcome by a fever she neither had the strength nor will to fight. I put her to bed when I found her collapsed in the kitchen. Tidus and I helped watch over her in her feverish delirium. She called me to her room a few hours before she gave in, and entrusted Tidus in my care. She was an open and honest woman, never questioning how I knew that Jecht died, how I had come to know him. She accepted me at my word that I was a close friend. I respected her for her character. I understood why Jecht had stayed with her. She smiled at me before she died, squeezing my hand as she lay weakly in bed, her face turned towards me.

"Promise me," she asked softly, "that you will take care of my son. He's such a crybaby, he needs someone strong to hold his hand."

I nodded. "I promised Jecht the same thing." I realized here that Mireiyu and I were a lot alike. We both loved Jecht. We both lost him.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. She sank into a deep sleep, and never woke, her breathing growing more and more shallow until it stopped altogether.

So I came to be Tidus' surrogate parent, a role I was not prepared for. He had stayed small and silent during the funeral, shedding his tears in quiet, withdrawing from the few people who had come to see Mireiyu committed to the sea.

Tidus hated me at once, as soon I told him I would be his caretaker. He scowled at me, told me how much he hated me, hated his father, and anyone associated with him. He let drop that his father hadn't been exactly kind to him, and proceeded to ignore my presence for several days. It was childish display that I allowed him because he was still mourning his mother. As the months went on, I made it clear to him I would not tolerate any further childishness.

He opened up to me eventually, taking me as the father he never really had. I was as kind as I could be to him, though somewhat distant. I supported him quietly and comforted him when he cried. In truth, I was a little afraid of Tidus. He was much too like Jecht for my liking, and there were always little quirks that seemed to unmistakably speak of Jecht, and that would always make my heart ache. But I ignored it, I willed myself against the pain, and that soon became a stony exterior that I wore around the boy.

Tidus was driven by the memories of hatred for his father. At a young age, he was already the best blitzball player at his school, but he still strove further. He wanted to be better than Jecht.

"He always told me I'd never be as good as him," Tidus explained to me one night, curled up on the couch with his textbook. He had one arm draped over the edge of the couch, the book balanced precariously on his chest as he browsed through the material.

I listened carefully, feeling a twinge in my chest as I noted his position. It was so much like Jecht, the relaxed, cat-like position as he reclined on the couch.

But he continued, reading forgotten, the flame of determination burning in his youthful eyes, "I'll be better than him someday. I'll be faster, stronger, and all of Zanarkand will know me, but not just as Jecht's son." He paused, folding the book, deciding he had studied enough. "God, Auron, I hate that old man," he confessed.

I knew, but I didn't say thing. It hurt every time, when Tidus referred to Jecht in that manner. He had been my lover, and I still loved him very much. I lived for him. I died for him, I pulled myself out of death for him. Tidus was a daily reminder of my promise to Jecht. My vow to him as he died, my vow to save Spira, to give meaning to the lives and deaths of my two best friends. It was most certainly painful when the full impact of my promise would hit me in the face. Ten years without Jecht. Ten years in the dream of the fayth. Ten years watching over his son, and protecting the boy with my life...or whatever mockery I was making of it.

Some days were a terrible strain for me, and the end of my time in Zanarkand would seem so far away. Age was beginning to show in my appearance, white streaks crawling slowly through my dark hair, a sure indication of the effort it took to wait and care for Tidus.

"Auron," Tidus had said suddenly, starting me out of my reverie, "how well did you know my old man?"

"Well," I began. I couldn't tell him the truth, but I couldn't deny my relationship with his father. I couldn't deny my love for Jecht. It was still there, a rhythmic throbbing in the back of my soul, calling my attention when I lay myself down to sleep alone in my bed. "We were close friends."

"How long did you know him?"

"A relatively short time, but we became fast friends." My answers were all the truth.

"You haven't answered my first question yet."

"We knew each other well." The boy asked more questions, but I refused to answer him. If he wanted to know, the knowledge would come to him in good time.

I continued to watch Tidus as he grew, blossoming into a gifted blitzball player. He was fast and strong, his body limber and flexible. There was a certain grace to his movements, a youthful enthusiasm and arrogance that I had seen many times when Jecht was in the water. He had a boyish baby face, and I saw many girls of his school fall prey to his cheerful smile.

I thought of my lover daily, wondering how his battle with Yevon was progressing. Did he remember me? Did he remember Tidus? Had Sin resurfaced in Spira yet? I would push these questions to the back my mind every morning as I climbed out of my cold bed and faced another morning. Tidus was the hope of Jecht and Braska, the hope of Spira, and my new life. He was the one chosen by the fayth, he kept me going. He and my promise to Jecht. He loved me as a father, and I loved him as a son.

****

I woke up early one morning, my body drenched in cold sweat. I had another dream of Jecht. They always happened, at least once a week. They were heaven when I slept, but hell in the mornings. I could remember feeling his warm breath on my neck as he kissed me softly, his hands wandering down my chest, to my navel and beyond. I remembered leaning into his caress, draping my arms around his shoulders and moving my hips closer to his body. I remembered his smile, his loving touch, his words that he'd return for me. For sure. It always left me bitter in the morning, hating the life I'd been forced to live, the destiny I was forced to accept. But it reminded me also, that one day, he would come to Zanarkand.

But this morning was a little different, and though I still cursed my fate, I felt he had returned. I could feel his presence nearby. It had been a bit over ten years since I'd first arrived in Zanarkand. Ten years that passed surprisingly quickly, though not without its fair share of pain. I rolled out of bed, walked to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror and couldn't suppress a wry smile. So much had changed, and yet so little. There were three white streaks in my hair, and a few wrinkles beginning to form by my mouth. I had permanent stubble, not matter how I shaved it seemed a constant part of my appearance. I looked so different from the adventurous, naïve boy that I had been when I first met Jecht. My expression was hardened, I had seen love, life, sadness and death, they turned me to stone, except for the parts of me that loved Jecht.

"Some things change, I guess, Auron," I spoke to my reflection, and it echoed my words. But my feelings for Jecht never would.

Tidus had already left the boat that served us as a home, there was a big game for the Zanarkand Abes tonight. He had already gone to practice, leaving a small, hastily scrawled note on the kitchen table. This would be his last night in Zanarkand if my dream served me right.

The Jecht that I felt that day was subtly different from the Jecht felt when he first transported me to Zanarkand. Now there was something wild, something savage and murderous about his aura, a part he hated but couldn't control. There was a part of him that was Sin, that would destroy and kill and never be satiated, and there was a part of him that wanted respite, wanted rest from the horrible thing he had become, the terrible influence of Yu Yevon. And a part of him that was still linked with me.

The people gathered at the Blitzball Sphere that night, it was packed to the brim with screaming, jumping, cheering fans. Tidus was glowing, reveling in his stardom, his love of the game. He had made a name for himself, not as his father's son, but as his own character. Those that couldn't get inside the Sphere lined the streets, watching eagerly at the screens which broadcasted the game.

Everyone was watching, riveted to the spot, all except for me. I was usually watching Tidus when he played, I felt that it was a part of my duty as his father. I would sit in the very back, watching silently. I never cheered, I never clapped or stood up. I never felt the need to. Unless it was Jecht playing, nothing would excite me.

Jecht was coming, he was going to destroy Zanarkand. He was going to take his son and I to Spira. I climbed to a high tower, walking out onto the ledge, a heavy jar of sake in my hand. Jecht promised never to drink again, but I thought I'd let him this time. Just this once. I held the tokkuri high, watching Sin approach, hidden behind a giant wave of shimmering water. "To the old times."

The people below me ran from the spectre, screaming in terror, falling and stumbling in their panic. I alone walked the opposite way, my arm tucked into my robe, the wind created by Sin's appearance ruffling my white-streaked hair. It was good to see Jecht again. I'd sorely missed his presence during the years I'd spent in Zanarkand. But our reunion was to be short-lived, Jecht had come for only one reason, to transport Tidus and I to Spira, where the boy would end the dreams of the fayth, and the suffering of Spira. Or so we hoped. "It won't be long now, Jecht," I promised him, "It won't be long until we can rest."

***

I took the boy to the very mouth of Sin, it's huge gaping maw sucking in everything before it. This was how we were going to go. Jecht was so close, I closed my eyes and drowned in his feeling. I could still read him, I could feel his scattered thoughts.

The bridge Tidus was standing broke beneath his feet, and he made a jump to the ledge I was standing on, pieces of rubble flying about me as Sin absorbed everything it could.

I looked up to Jecht, Tidus still seemed so impossibly young. So naïve, perhaps not up to the colossal task before him. "You are sure?" I glanced up at Jecht. There was an overwhelming sense of affirmative. The decision was made then.

"This is it," I told him. The boy stared up at me, then looked to past my shoulder at Sin and the bright yellow light that surrounded us. Spira was close. I picked him up by the collar of his shirt, speaking to him in earnest. He was going to save Spira. I didn't know how, he didn't know how, Jecht didn't either. It was all up to him, and whoever would help him. "Your fate is sealed. This is your story. And yours alone. It all begins here."

And then Jecht had taken us, and I was in his arms again. It was a moment of eternity as Jecht held me close, cradled me to his chest. He held me with a determined fierceness, pressing his cheek against my forehead. I wanted to sigh and give up right there, that was the place I wanted to be forever.

"Just a little longer, Auron," he told me softly before turning me around and pressing our lips together.

And then I lost all consciousness.