FFXII - Distraction

Mar 23, 2008 00:02

 

Vaan is nine, and has knocked over his fifth street vendor today.

Nine means that Reks is still alive and Rabanastre is the entire world. Nine is also when staying on the ground was fine because the sky was still only the sky. At that age, he only looks up as high as his elder brother, whom he respects like the sun.

Nine also means that Vaan is still much too little to understand his recent clumsiness. It was granted that he was never the most graceful of boys, but never had his accident-prone self caused entire rows of fruit stands, racks that hawked pottery and other finite goods to shift aside when he walked past with a particularly glassy look in his eye and obviously not looking where he was going. And more often than not, when nine year old Vaan comes to, he’s sprawled in the middle of a wooden ruin next to a man weeping over his squashed melons and not entirely sure what happened.

Reks knows, because Reks understands a lot of things and is ever eager to be involved in his increasingly independent little brother’s life. Following the trail of destruction, it only takes a few minutes of careful observation for the elder brother to discover the reason for Vaan’s current state of mental distress. A quick look at the expression on the face of the young boy, still holding the package their mother had entrusted to him still very much undelivered, to the small crowd across the way and immediately, understanding dawns on him.

With a knowing smile, he sneaks away as stealthily as he came and that night sets to quietly pacifying his mother with promises that he’d set Vaan straight, who has become quite flustered over her youngest son’s absent-mindedness and the many broken stands and bruised fruits that she’s had to pay for. And the next morning, he talks to the right people and makes the right arrangements before depositing in his little brother in the care of kindly Migelo.

“Mom’s been a bit under the weather lately and I’m too busy to look after this handful.” He ruffles Vaan’s hair fondly. “Could you take care of him for me? Feel free to put him to work.”

He does, and when Reks sneaks a look over his shoulder, Vaan is red-faced and lifting down crates of food with a pretty blond girl whom, according to word on the street, was quite an enchanting dancer.

Not long after, a shout is heard, followed by a thunderous crash. Wincing, he makes a note to apologize to Migelo when he goes to pick up Vaan and turns the corner as quickly as he can.

---

Vaan is seventeen, and just defeated the last of the Cactoids.

Seventeen means that things are quite different from back when it was nine and situations were unexplainable and simple. Seventeen means that there is no more Reks and no more family. At seventeen the sky is attainable and the adventure he is on takes him to worlds far beyond Rabanastre.

Seventeen also means that he understands his actions at nine, and may or may not be willing to admit, even eight years later. These things seem insignificant in the face of much more daunting tasks, and times for distractions like these are very few.

As if Vaan has any control over this sort of thing.

He still trips over his own feet and into those glowing red traps, upends that day’s supper, spills potion all over him and others in his party, evoking the consternation of a princess and a loyal knight, and the endless amusement of a certain sky pirate who understands in the way Reks did when he was nine.

And, sighing like she does ever since they were nine years old and he’s toppled an entire shipment over himself again, the pretty blond dancer straightens him out from her place by his side as usual.

These are perilous times they live in now. Especially for a seventeen year old boy with a tendency to become distracted whenever she smiles in that particularly cute sort of way.

fanfiction, ffxii

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