”You can still be special to a friend,” Cissnei said. ”Special meaning they will be there to support you and that they speak you up, rather than down, behind your back.”

Celes frowned. Oh. Well that was Caius, she supposed. It felt strange, deep down, in a way that she didn’t like. She was mad. She was mortified in fact, and now Cissnei was telling her otherwise? Celes didn’t know if she’d been special to anyone before in her life -- for more than her sword and magic that was. Even her friends had been…distant to say the least. Even Locke had preferred another woman over her.

But Caius? She supposed there was something special there. By Cissnei’s definition anyway. He certainly talked her up behind her back. That was the problem, wasn’t it? It was too glowing. Embarrassing. She didn’t want the whole world putting her on a pedestal for her sword or her looks. It was uncomfortable there. And really, she’d done nothing for herself to earn it.

”Girl time?” Celes blinked at her. It was...strange thinking of it that way. And new. Another thing she’d never had in her life, really. Had there ever been another girl in her life to have time with? Only Terra, really, and she had her own problems. Celes had gone shopping with Yuna once. But with all the talk of daggers and magic, it hadn’t felt much like ’girl time’ at all.

”Well, if you’re sure.” She swirled the clump of sherbet around in its foam. In truth, she didn’t like it much. It was too thick and clumpy. Still, she wouldn’t tell Cissnei that. ”That sounds useful,” she said instead. ”I’ll let you know if something comes up.”

An investigator? Someone who followed clues? Celes hesitated, wondering if there was anything she could use. She had no interest in going home. In fact, she would have fought it if she could, but was there anything else…?

”If I came…” she said slowly. ”Could you find someone? Or a few people, I guess. I have the gil unless you want to ring me out.” She smiled as a joke. She doubted the woman was unfair. If she couldn’t get away with it anyway. ”I’m trying to find some old friends just like anyone else. You must get a lot of money that way.”

The sherbet was melting. She brought her lips to the plastic rim and sipped again. The second swallow was better, but she wished it had a little more kick. She could use some liquor right about now.

”Caius. Clueless. I guess you really can read people.” Celes sighed. She still wanted to punch him for the things he’d said, but…

”I guess I did tell him that. The clueless part, not the novels. He’s always saying weird things. You can’t know you’re being uncomfortable if you don’t know what you’re saying.” Subtext was not Caius’ friend. He could read women about as well as he could read a brick wall.

”But enough about that!” Celes stood straight and tall. She felt shorter without the slight heel in her boots, but it was a fine day, and hadn’t she come here to have fun? She wouldn’t leave without it. She was determined. ”I can relax!”

Because that’s what relaxed people said. She wanted to groan.

”I’m not overworked, I just…” Wanted to experience it, she supposed. Relaxation that was. Pretending that everything was fine for a day and forgetting everything else. She’d never really had the chance.

Celes shook her head. ”I just want to be here,” she said. She let her eyes wander back to the beach. From the top of the dune, she could see just about everything -- the swimmers and sunbathers and the scurrying dots of children with paddles and miniature buckets. She couldn’t see much in the way of activities except maybe…

”There were some people playing ball,” she said. Celes had almost been hit with one afterall. ”I don’t know what they were playing, but maybe we could try that?” Something physical sounded nice. Physical and competitive. She could handle that.

She hoped.

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Volleyball. That was the name of it. She felt herself steeled with a combination of fear and determination -- the same kind she’d once felt leading armies. It was the kind of feeling that could only come from being completely out of one’s depth. Out of one’s depth and eager to prove that wrong.

”Oh.” A competition. She could do that. Not that she’d ever competed in her life -- or in fact ever played a sport now that she thought about it. It had always felt silly to her, watching the men jump around under arbitrary rules that never seemed to mean anything. Still, they’d always seemed to have some amount of fun.

She wanted to have fun.

”Right.” She nodded, determined. ”We’ll sign up. And then…” Learn those arbitrary rules she was always looking down on. No, no. She was going to have fun today. Arbitrary didn’t matter. ”Well, the two of us have to have an advantage, right? If we can fight monsters then we can hit a ball.”

That’s what she told herself anyway.

Celes started back down the sand dune, taking a last few sips of her drink to make sure she’d had enough that it wouldn’t be rude when she tossed it. Which she did. It dripped down the inside of the trash can in syrupy streams.

Once they’d reached the line for sign-ups, Celes turned to Cissnei with a smile that she hoped looked natural. ”I wouldn’t mind at all,” she said. After everything Cissnei had done for her, the least Celes could do was give her a partner for sand castles.

Whatever those were.

The line inched forward as another pair drifted off, laughing. The tournament’s administrators sat behind the make-shift, temporary table in fold-up chairs, papers spread out in front of them with enough pens to sign them. They held clipboards and talked among each other whenever they had a break between new competitors. One of them wore a whistle around his neck.

Celes edged forward. He looked up at her expectantly. ”What can I sign you up for?”

”Volleyball,” Celes said confidently before she paused and glanced back at Cissnei. ”And, er. Sand castles?”

Apparently this was a fine enough answer because the man nodded and slid two papers at them. ”That’ll be a tough one,” he said. ”There’s some good competition out here.”

Oh good. Celes looked back towards the men and women still lingering around in their sandy swim trunks and bikini suits. They were fit and slender with gleaming hair and flat stomachs. Then there was Celes with her calloused hands, battle-worn muscles, and hair that absolutely refused to stop clumping together in the heat. She took the pen, and put it to paper.

”Celes Chere,” she said as she wrote her own name. ”And Cissnei…” She looked back to her partner uncertainly. She offered the pen to her. ”I don’t really know how to spell it.” Or her last name for that matter.

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It was spelled ’Cissnei.’ No last name. Just Cissnei. Celes examined the neat script until it was taken by the overly helpful volunteer and filed wherever they kept it. It was funny. No matter how much she learned about Cissnei, she was left with just as much of a mystery as she’d started with.

The volunteers led them to a practice court, and Celes followed awkwardly. That was nice of Cissnei to ask. Celes tried to think of it more as a warm-up than a trial by fire. She only partly succeeded.

”One match. Twenty-one points.” She repeated it to herself so she’d have to remember. ”Land it on the ground, but don’t hit it outside the boundaries.” She looked around to find white lines drawn in a rectangle in the sand. They stood on one side of a tall net. Her feet sank into the sand, squeezing up between her toes.

She could do this, couldn’t she?

”I don’t really know enough to ask questions.” Celes smiled apologetically. The volunteer nodded as though this wasn’t a surprise.

”Well, you can learn as you go. We’ll be your opponents for now.”

The two volunteers took the other side of the court. ”We’ll serve!” they announced, and took two positions -- one in front and one in back. Now that formation she knew. Celes settled naturally behind Cissnei. She’d spent most of her time as a spell-caster lately, and knew the back row well.

The opposing back row player took the banded white ball, tossed it in the air, and hit it with their forearms. It sailed over the net then kept going in a straight trajectory towards Celes. She readied herself, let out a steady breath, and grounded her stance.

Then she caught the ball, spun it around, and threw it right back.

It landed with a heavy thud on their side of the net. Celes perked up, expecting a point but getting a whistle instead. The volunteer shook his head. ”You can’t catch it,” he said. ”You have to hit it some other way. We suggest your arms, like this.” He mimed the same motion that had sent the ball flying towards her in the first place. She felt her cheeks redden.

”Oh.”

”That’s our fault. We should have told you.”

”No, that’s okay.”

Why had she thought she could do this?

The front volunteer tossed it to the back, and he readied his serve again. Celes closed her eyes, took a breath, and opened them. Hadn’t she always told her men to never get caught up on failure? That it was all for the sake of learning? That was all well and good when it came to fighting, but Celes didn’t have a clue about sports. Still, the idea was the same.

She was used to reacting quickly. She was used to sharpening her mind. So what if the movement already felt awkward? She’d do it. She knew she could.

Once again, the ball was hit with that same strange forearm bop. Once again, it went sailing towards Celes. She let her body react on its own, moving her into position before her head caught up and she tried to get her arms into position. Okay. Okay. Just push it up like this…

The ball struck her arms hard. The impact stung, but she pushed up anyway without any real direction. It didn’t go over the net, but instead flew back into the air about twelve feet up and four feet in front of her. Her stomach sank.

”Cissnei!” She called out to her partner, hoping that it wasn’t already lost. Please let me have this!

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Cissnei dodged towards the ball, readying herself. Celes felt her breath catch. Then the ball made contact. It sailed through the air, over the net, and-

”Yes!” Celes jumped up, her hand in the air as she shrieked. The ball landed with a thump into the sand, and they’d scored a point. She’d done it. They’d done it. Maybe she wasn’t so hopeless after all.

Cissnei turned to wink at her. ”Not a bad team,” she said, and Celes nodded emphatically.

”Right.” Was she smiling? She was definitely smiling. Not just smiling, but having fun. She guessed this was what that felt like.

They hit it back and forth a few more times, and despite a few mishaps, they didn’t do too badly. Celes learned how to start the ball off for herself (miserably at first, but she found it wasn’t so hard as hitting it back) and she learned the rules as she went. After a few embarrassing mistakes, she thought she had the rules down well enough. She at least knew well enough not to catch it.

As they finished, Cissnei came over to talk. ”Let’s take a break for a little bit,” she said. ”Do you need anything to prepare?”

”Oh. Um…” She thought for a moment. Did she need anything? She didn’t think so. ”I guess just some water,” she answered, and she wasn’t wrong. The day was hot and muggy. Who wouldn’t?

As Cissnei left, she felt better than she had in a while and certainly better than she had since she’d come here. She still didn’t know why Cissnei bothered to talk to her. The detective was cool and confident and seemed like she could have picked any company she wanted, and Celes was about as far away from that as she could get. She could be cool. She could be confident. But only if she really didn’t care what anyone thought, and that usually only happened on the battlefield.

She’d opened up a lot since The Returners. She didn’t know what she was doing exactly, but she wanted to try. Since she’d left the military, she’d realized that she was terribly unprepared for a life outside it. Maybe that shouldn’t have bothered her so much, but…

She wanted to be better. She wanted to move on. She wanted to be happy.

”Are you using that?”

”Hm?” Celes looked up to find the competition looking at her. They were the same tanned, flat stomached, gleaming haired players that she’d seen in the line. Celes frowned at them. ”Using what?”

”The court. Are you still using it?”

”Oh.” Celes looked down to find that she was indeed still standing smack in the middle of the practice court. ”Sorry. No. You can…” She trailed off awkwardly, and rather than finish, walked flat-footed out of bounds. The rival teams took the ball and started to play without looking at her again. She watched them.

They were good, she thought. Really good, but she guessed that she’d already expected she’d lose. She’d never played before, after all, and these people had lived here all their lives. She watched them move expertly into place, saw them angle their arms just so, saw them tap it into a perfect position and then jump, smacking it across the net. She saw a black-haired girl with a ponytail skid across the sand, hitting it just in time to keep it from touching the ground. The ball was tossed back into play. And still, Celes watched.

These people were nothing like her. While she’d had her arms full of needles, they’d been playing with sand at the beach. While she’d built callouses over her bleeding hands, they’d fretted over their hair and budding acne. Now they’d grown into the kind of people that could toss a ball around with friends and look good doing it. And Celes…

No, she wouldn’t think like that. Maybe she’d had a late start, but she could learn. She had to learn now that there was no war or empire or anything else. It was awkward. It was painful, but she had to try. So she watched, arms crossed uncomfortably, and studied the kind of people that she wished she could be.

That was what this was all about.

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