Setting: In Game, original
Theme + Number: 32) Pyreflies, 37) Fascination, 46) Dreamy, 58) After life, 85) Small talk
Pairing/Character/Friendship: Auron and Yuna
Warnings: Talk of death.
Summary: Yuna finds beauty.
Note: Title from a Moby song.
When fiends die, Yuna thinks it's beautiful.
She never tells anyone this, because sometimes she wonders if she's becoming a little more morbid each day. Her thanatophilia can't be all that bad, considering she really is still so young. And it isn't the method of death, or the reason. Releasing angry souls is noble, but it isn't beautiful.
No, it's the pyreflies.
Yuna thinks they look like stars, close enough for someone to touch. When she dances, they cascade around her, veiling her in her own night sky. A part of her is inexplicably sorrowful, and she tries to hide it in her veil of stars. Sometimes she wishes she had a coat like Auron's so she could hide her face and body and everything that would indicate how she's feeling.
They are both watching the pyreflies.
Wakka and Tidus are being rowdy, keeping up the laughter that she lives on more than anything else. Lulu looks grumpy, but Yuna knows she's just keeping her cool distance, like she always does. If either of the boys were to scrape their knees, she would be right there to scold and heal them. And Kimahri is doing like he always does. He thinks Ronso things she would love to understand.
No one notices as Auron cleanly slays the weak fiend. He does that often, she notes. They don't know that she watches all of them, and protects them with her prayers. The Aeons she has now can feel every whispered prayer so that her guardians will not turn into stars too soon.
No, the Farplane cannot have them yet.
"You should go join them." She almost doesn't notice him speaking. She wonders if her father was like this, and if Auron used that same firm and unrelenting tone with him.
"Oh, I like watching. They're having fun."
He knows she wasn't watching them, but like every conversation they have, the real matter lies unspoken. She doesn't want him talk about it anyway. They have an understanding of death that most people don't. Still, it would be nice to hear what he thinks they look like.
"...It's pretty." She decides this is a fair enough line to cross. She always talks with Tidus about the future, about things she won't be able to do. That's because he is life, and that's why she wants him by her side. He laughs and whistles and screams. Death is silent and deliberate and exacting.
Maybe that's why they know each other.
"Lives tend to be... colorful." There are five and six meanings in that. She is satisfied.
Tidus comes bounding up, and she doesn't have to concern herself with stars when the sun is up. The night steps aside, taking watch for yet another turn.
"Hey, so we heading out soon?" There is energy in Tidus's voice. Wakka looks a little tired.
"We have already lingered long enough. No time to waste."
"Ya, ya. If you were in charge we'd never sleep."
She nods, half bowing in the way she'd always been taught. Press forward. Slip into the veil and maybe she could come to know which colors her stars will be.