Setting: During the pilgrimage
Theme + Number: #5 Wounded, #18 Clinging, #93 Broke(n)
Summary: Rikku doesn't cry gracefully.
Rikku doesn't cry like other girls. No, she's not all graceful and quiet and dabbing at tears with a tissue and a tragic face, and weak smiles when he tries to reassure her. She's like a child, her face going a bit red, snivelling a bit. She doesn't even gracefully cry on his shoulder like he's seen other girls do, and really Wakka isn't at all sure what to do with her.
"It's okay?" he tries, and, "there, there," while patting her back, while she sobs and (after some struggling on his part) clings to him, arms around her neck and face buried in his shoulder.
He's not even sure what she's crying about. Yevon or Yuna or the pilgrimage or her Home, she doesn't say and -- for now -- he doesn't ask. Mostly because he's afraid that in her current mood she'll rip his tongue out or something.
"I hate you," she hiccups, softly, and he holds her closer. That, he understands. Love and hate and religion. Yeah, he understands that.
"It's okay," he says, again. He could say 'I hate you too', but that wouldn't make either of them feel any better.