Celes didn’t want to hear this. She really didn’t. What she really wanted to do was leave. She wanted to hide in an empty room and lock the door and never come out again. She didn’t want to feel like a child. She didn’t want Caius, who felt so sorry for making her feel the way she did, to keep telling her why she was wrong for feeling it. She didn’t want Caius.

”I don’t care.” She felt almost strangled by herself. Something inside longed to be free and to lash out in anger. No, she wasn’t a child and she wasn’t imagining anything. Unreasonable or not, she had every right to be angry. And he was wrong.

”I don’t care!” she said again, louder. She felt herself slipping into her general’s persona -- straight-backed, cold, and unwavering. The more he spoke the more he irked her. The more he explained himself the less she understood.

”Whether you realize it or not, you keep doing this! You just did! If you feel so practical about it then why don’t you act that way? You told me that you’d fall apart! No matter how you meant it, you keep doing it! And you always have this look in your eye! This soft, awful look that tells me everything you’re not saying!”

She turned away from him, arms crossed. ”I used to think you must be in love with me. That night at the masquerade you looked like it. You had that look and what you said…” She tensed. ”I don’t want to mean the world to you, Caius. I don’t want to stand for something that you have to protect. Whether you say it or not, I can see it, and I hate it. And when Yuna and Cissnei and everyone else keeps telling me that I ’saved you’ as the first thing after I say hello then what am I supposed to take from that?”

She shook her head. ”I don’t want you to tell me that you never said it. I was paying attention. I’m not stupid. I want you to tell me you’re sorry and that you’ll knock it off. Even if you didn’t realize you were doing it, I want you to realize it now.”

ulla

Caius was visibly uncomfortable when he returned, drinks in hand. He offered her one and she took it, quickly setting it on the table. The cold condensation of it felt good in the tropical heat, but she found that she wasn’t really in the mood to drink it. Not yet.

For a long time, they just sat there, looking at each other. Celes felt her skin crawl, but she was determined not to say the first word. He was the one to spring this on her after all. She’d let him set the tone.

”I uh…”

Celes looked at him expectantly. He was all wide eyed and struck like a cornered animal. It was almost enough to make her feel bad for him, but she really couldn’t. Not when her stomach was twisting the way it was.

You what?

Finally he composed himself. ”I owe you an apology.”

”Huh?”

”I...I wanted to bring this up sooner, but we both know that I’m not very good at...you know. Words.”

She could have laughed. Wasn’t that true? But he was trying, and it wasn’t like she’d expected this. No wonder he’d been so nervous. Sitting her down to apologize? All of the guilt she’d held back rushed into her all at once. This was hard for him. That was obvious, and she had to respect that. Still, a single thought lingered like an echo.

Why?

He was eager to explain.

Through all of his practiced words, Celes just stared at him. Her expression shifted from confusion to realization to slight annoyance. He had a whole speech prepared, didn’t he? It was a nice gesture, but the more he talked the more she wanted to stop him. It was all so unexpected that she felt as though she’d been turned onto her head.

Once he’d finished, Celes let him have a little silence just to make sure she wouldn’t interrupt him. Then she gave him a disbelieving look and asked, ”Is that what this was all about?”

She didn’t mean to sound cold. Not this time and not after he’d bared his soul to her, but she couldn’t have said anything different. She’d honestly forgotten all about their last mission together. It hadn’t even been on her mind, but apparently it had been all over his. She shook her head.

”I don’t care about that,” she said and then paused. ”Well. Maybe I cared a little.” Now that she thought about it, she really had been annoyed with him at the time, hadn’t she? ”You really should have let me go. I know you did, but you didn’t want me to. You’re always throwing yourself into danger. But when I try to do it, it’s suddenly a problem.”

How had she forgotten that feeling? How he'd made her feel small? Somehow lesser? Now it was all coming out, and the more she talked, the more it overtook her again. She’d never had a chance to tell him. Or maybe she hadn’t wanted to.

”You’re always like that, you know. You say that I’m capable and competent, but you’re always telling me to stay back or to keep out of danger. Maybe you think you respect me, but you don’t. Not when you act like that, anyway.”

She pushed back her hair. Where was this coming from? She felt like the words were springing up on their own.

”Do you want to know why I’m mad? Because you keep saying things exactly like this. ’I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.’ ‘I’d rather die than live without you.’ What am I supposed to do with that? Oh good. Your entire life depends on me. Do you ever think about how that would make me feel?”

It was all rising to the top now. Heat and pressure and something that stung in her eyes. She wanted to yell. That would make her feel better, wouldn’t it? But she didn’t. Instead, she just clenched her nails into her pants and let herself speak before she thought better of it.

”We’re friends,” she said. ”That’s all, Caius. I used to think that you wanted something more, but that’s not it at all, is it? You keep telling people that I was your light in the dark. That I’m the only thing that’s keeping you going, and that’s not right. I’m not a light, I’m a person, and maybe I did pull you out of a dark place, but that doesn’t mean I’m the only thing keeping you there. Or I shouldn’t be.”

She took a breath. Her throat was too tight. ”I’m not perfect. I’m not the person you think I am. And I hate when you act like I’m someone I’m not.”

ulla

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.

ulla

Vincent had noticed. It was funny just how different Celes was to most of the locals. There was a sharp gap between her skills and most people back home, of course, but she knew all kinds who had rivaled her even without military training. An inventor king. A gambling airship captain. A little girl though she supposed that had mainly been due to magicite. Magicite had done a lot to boost the power of everyday people. It was sad, really. She wondered what the espers must have thought from within their rocky tombs.

Or within her blood.

Vincent lowered his glass. He’d finished tea -- as poor as it had been -- and Celes quickly sipped her own to catch up. The tea was still cold, but it was quickly warming in the tropical heat. Celes wasn’t made for this kind of weather. Not with her magic.

”Should I report to headquarters to find job listings at first?” Vincent asked. ”And are rewards split amongst guild members?”

Celes could have sighed in relief. Work talk. She could do that.

”If you want,” she said. ”But that’s kind of the point. A lot of people find mercenary work around here. I guess if you drop a bunch of fighters in a strange world with nothing else to do, we’re going to...well. Fight.” She smirked dryly. ”So Caius and I decided to make a place where people would know to look for us. It makes things easier.”

Celes took a too large gulp of her tea and nearly spat it out, struggling to keep it in her throat as she swallowed. Her throat ached once she was done, and she put it down as well. That was enough of that.

”We’ll usually be swamped with jobs though I can’t promise that it’ll all be exciting. We get some that I’d only trust with Outlanders -- er, that’s people like you and me -- but there aren’t too many like that on a good day. I’ll let you know.”

She looked at him. ”We don’t split reward money. This is just a place to get jobs, and we don’t all do it equally. We’ll take ten percent of what you earn to keep this place running, but…” She gestured around. ”I don’t know. I think it’s worth it.

”If you’re looking for somewhere to stay, I could give you a few tips. I’ve got an apartment not far from here. Caius lives outside the city. He doesn’t have much choice with that dragon of his.”

A dragon that she had never particularly approved of. She still didn’t, she supposed, though even she had to admit that it had turned out to be useful. And Caius adored the thing. Whatever made him happy.

”Let me know when you’re available. I have a few jobs piling up that I don’t trust anyone with. It sounds like you might need to rest for a minute before you head out again.”

ulla