[ What do you say when a name turns gold? You hope, you can voice that hope; but when it's so personal, when you've watched people go so many times after the name switches colour - it's hard to speak it, to believe. It seems kinder to keep the wish private, breathe the sigh of relief once the person returns, smile and say you're glad it never happened.
But when's the last time that it didn't? When someone he's known has back from a changed name, hasn't just disappeared without warning? More and more people disappear, and Tidus finds it hard in him to count every one of them.
People come, people go. He knew and accepted it from the start, but it's been weighing on him heavier, the friends of friends leaving; the family of friends...
Tidus goes about his business, doing what he needs to with some awareness of what's (who's) waiting. Greets newcomers, goes to collect his orders, speaks to the people he needs to and then - he searches for Inigo. Lingers longer as he passes through the carriages, soon enough figuring where he'd find the guy, if he hasn't missed him.
It's bizarre, what he sees when he enters. The bathtub, S'reee's bathtub -- gone. He knew already, saw her leaving, her mass hard to miss even if he didn't want to watch, but still. It's been so long that he stares at the bottom bed that's replaced her sleeping spot, what else it's taken with it: the damp foot mornings, all the time they woke up the other side together; the familiarity, what this space became for him.
Nothing sticks. None of them mean anything. They can come and go, and it doesn't even matter...
Tidus buries the emotion before it can turn into something strange, and he looks over to his head and then higher above it. He thinks he sees him there - or that might be his oversized toy.
One or the other. ]
Inigo? [ He waits a beat, and then- ] Are you asleep?
no subject
But when's the last time that it didn't? When someone he's known has back from a changed name, hasn't just disappeared without warning? More and more people disappear, and Tidus finds it hard in him to count every one of them.
People come, people go. He knew and accepted it from the start, but it's been weighing on him heavier, the friends of friends leaving; the family of friends...
Tidus goes about his business, doing what he needs to with some awareness of what's (who's) waiting. Greets newcomers, goes to collect his orders, speaks to the people he needs to and then - he searches for Inigo. Lingers longer as he passes through the carriages, soon enough figuring where he'd find the guy, if he hasn't missed him.
It's bizarre, what he sees when he enters. The bathtub, S'reee's bathtub -- gone. He knew already, saw her leaving, her mass hard to miss even if he didn't want to watch, but still. It's been so long that he stares at the bottom bed that's replaced her sleeping spot, what else it's taken with it: the damp foot mornings, all the time they woke up the other side together; the familiarity, what this space became for him.
Nothing sticks. None of them mean anything. They can come and go, and it doesn't even matter...
Tidus buries the emotion before it can turn into something strange, and he looks over to his head and then higher above it. He thinks he sees him there - or that might be his oversized toy.
One or the other. ]
Inigo? [ He waits a beat, and then- ] Are you asleep?
[ (Emptier.
The room fills emptier.) ]