[Star Ocean 2] Of Visits and Homecomings
Title: Of Visits and Homecomings
Fandom: Star Ocean 2
Pairing: Do I even have to say this anymore? ;P
Rating: PG
Warnings: Maybe a bit of humor, maybe a bit of OOC, maybe a bit of fluff. You decide.
Disclaimer: TriAce and Squeenix don't like sharing them with me, obviously.
Of Visits and Homecomings
Even after all those months, Arlia village still looked the same, with its small houses and red-shingled roofs, the slow-flowing river and the rolling green and yellow fields around it. Still felt the same, with the sense of peaceful, languid contentment seeping into an unsuspecting visitor's bones until they found themselves adjusting to a gentler pace of a gentler time. Still smelled the same, with the air so very unlike everywhere else - unlike the multitude of scents (fresh bread and hot steel and exotic spices) in Lacour, the smell of magic in Mars or the heavy sulfur fumes wafting up from the mines in Salva - but here, the air was just pure, clean, and fresh for no reason other than that it had always been this way.
Claude breathed in deeply, stretching his arms and arching his back as far as they would go. Then he grabbed a handful of cockleburs from one of the shrubs lining the road and started launching them at the back of Dias' head, one by one. When he missed and one whizzed past Dias' cheek, the other whirled around and began advancing on him. Claude desperately tried to ward him off, but the taller man easily wrestled him into a headlock and started grinding his knuckles against his scalp, prompting Claude to be quite vocal about his discomfort.
It was amidst his pleas for help that four girls emerged from the thinning underbrush, chatting and giggling among themselves. They stopped dead when they caught sight of the two grown men behaving like children in the middle of the road, their questioning gazes darting back and forth between each other and the pair, who had frozen in place the moment their unassuming audience appeared.
"Dias... Flac?" one girl finally ventured bravely, while the others tittered nervously.
The man in question immediately dropped his companion like a hot potato and straightened his posture, leaving Claude to get up, dust himself off and trying to make himself not look like he had just been given the noogie to end all noogies.
"I'm right, aren't I?" the girl asked, more confidently than before.
"Oh my... you're the young man who left with Rena on that journey, aren't you?" another one chimed in, pointing at Claude and then blushing when she realized what she was doing.
Claude gave up on trying to comb his hair into submission and gave them an embarrassed grin. "Umm, yeah. Hello." He wriggled his fingers in a tentative wave.
Four saucer-sized pairs of eyes met this admission, and then... "By the sky, Rena, get over here!" the first girl hollered down the direction from where they had come, while the others erupted into giggling.
"I'm coming, I'm coming! It's not like this thing can just carry itself," a familiar voice floated back to them. "Now, why are you making such a sce---" By the time she arrived at the end of the sentence, Rena had emerged from the bushes, carrying a large basket filled to the brim with blueberries.
Then she caught sight of the reason for so much yelling, blinked and did the only reasonable thing to do: She dumped the basket on the ground, berries scattering everywhere, and practically flew into Claude's arms.
He caught her around the waist with an "oof", whirling her around once to regain his balance.
"Claude! You're back!"
"It's so good to see you again, Rena," he said warmly.
"Dias!"
Dias was wearing his 'hug me and die'-scowl, but Rena blithely ignored that and launched herself at him with as much force as her small body could muster. He caught her in spite of himself, and Claude couldn't hold in his snickering when he noticed how Dias was staring down at his arms with an expression of complete and utter betrayal.
-------
They almost gave Westa a heart attack when she looked up from weeding the garden and saw her daughter happily skipping towards her, two men in tow that she didn't think she would see again any time soon. After getting over her initial shock, though, she welcomed them as if they were her long-lost sons. Claude laughed when she embraced him and kissed his cheeks, allowing himself a brief pang of equal parts regret and shame, that he wanted another mother to embrace him more. Then, he concentrated on the scent of the sweet carrots she'd been pulling and the warmth of her smaller body, and felt happy again.
When Westa tried to repeat the same welcoming hug with Dias, he did something Claude had never expected to see in his whole life: Dias became skittish, his eyes nervously darting from side to side, looking for an excuse to back out. When none presented itself, he dutifully bowed and allowed the woman to embrace him. He did seem quite eager to end the hug, though, as Westa, completely disregarding the universal rule book containing all the things-not-to-do-to-dignified-six-feet-tall-swordsmen, delivered two solid motherly kisses on both his cheeks.
It was one of those moments that made Claude dearly wish for something better than Expel's sorry excuse for a camera, as Dias ducked away and only partially succeeded in hiding the red hue that had crept across his cheeks. As it was, Claude simply made a mental note to tease him mercilessly for at least a week.
~~~
Dinner was a noisy affair, the cozy parlor filled with the sounds of laughter, animated conversation and clanging cutlery and crockery. Westa cooked what Rena referred to as the Supremely Awesomely Yummy Welcome Dinner, and the food-laden table did indeed do justice to its name. Between the four of them (and two of them being young men starved of good cuisine) the food was disappearing rapidly, though, as Claude regaled them with tales of their adventures and Dias kept bringing forkfuls to his mouth under the pretense of snorting into his food whenever Claude lent a particularly ridiculous twist to a story.
~~~
All through dinner, Rena is stealing glances at both of them. She doesn't know why, it's not as if she can't look at her friends whenever she wants to, it's not like it takes something like courage to look, but she is trying to figure something out and can't let them know that she is looking.
She doesn't even know what exactly she is looking for, or why, but there's a certain something urging her on, something that tells her its important she figures out… whatever it is she's supposed to figure out.
There is something between them that she can't name. If she is looking at Dias, she would have to say that it's an absence of tension, of wariness that not even she herself was ever able to invoke, after… after.
If she is looking at Claude, she would have to say that it's something added, something more in the way his voice rises and falls, his eyes crinkle and his hands gesture animatedly… She remembers the young man she got to know on their journey together, so serious, so determined to keep them all safe, so unsure of how he fit into their ever-growing group of comrades. She remembers there were periods in between, moments when he was like this, similar but not the same. There's an extra something there now, of that she's sure.
And then it happens that Dias hand starts going for the cream potatoes and Claude says, at the same time and without looking up from his plate, "Pass the potatoes, please?"
Dias rolls his eyes like the question was completely redundant, and after a moment, she realizes it is, because Dias didn't reach for the potatoes because he wanted any. Claude has been shoveling them all evening, and there aren't any left on his plate.
It hits her like a brick on the forehead, then. This is what she has been looking for. It is right there, for the careful observer to figure out. The absence of something, the extra something.
Oh dear.
Rena's stomach flip-flops, and she quickly downs a glass of water to suppress a bout of embarrassed giggles. She looks again, watches as Claude takes the bowl and his smile turns up an extra notch, as if passing potatoes is an act deserving of deep gratitude and happiness.
And then, the moment is gone. Dias returns his attention to his plate, Westa asks Claude a question, and the something flits away, between them but not readily apparent anymore.
Her stomach flip-flops again when she realizes that she's the only one out of them who has noticed. They aren't even aware of what they're doing. There is some knowledge there, some subtle pull that makes them click, but neither of them is aware of its true extent.
Rena hopes that they won't go through life oblivious like this. Because it would be a damn shame.
Oh dear.
She reaches for her glass again.
~~~
"You are going to stay a few days, though, aren't you?"
Rena was standing at the kitchen sink, wearing a dotted apron, her arms elbow-deep in soapy water. She was looking at Dias expectantly, almost as if daring him to refuse her.
"Hmph."
"Come on, Dias. You just have to. Mom would be so happy, and we haven't seen each other in such a long time. I bet Claude wants to stay, too!"
Dias made a derisive noise at the back of his throat and put down the plate he had been holding. "Fine. Let him."
Rena's pleading look transformed into a scowl. "Well... if that's the way you want to play, I suppose I could always tell Claude about the time when we were playing dress-up and put on the-"
Dias almost dropped the plate he was holding. "We were kids," he hissed. "Kids."
The blue-haired girl smiled. "Oh well, I suppose you don't mind if I tell Claude that you looked really cute in that little purple-"
His eyes narrowed. "Don't. you. dare," he bit out, his glare promising unspeakable pain if she dared to continue. She arced an eyebrow. "Fine. We'll stay."
"Really?" Rena exclaimed, acting like she had not just coerced him into agreeing. "That's so wonderful. I knew you would see it my way!"
Dias looked like he had swallowed a slice of lemon. "Whatever. Just keep your mouth shut about... the incident."
"What incident?" Claude asked, carrying in another armful of dirty dishes.
Rena's grin turned positively evil. "Oh, nothing much. We were just talking about how cute Dias looked when he was wearing the-mmmmhm. MHMPF!" Dias, who had quickly stepped behind her and clamped a hand over her mouth as if it were the most natural thing for him to do, said, "Nothing."
"It didn't sound like nothing," Claude mused, directing all his attention to Dias and completely ignoring Rena, who was trying to get free of the hand on her mouth.
"Nothing important," Dias clarified, glaring.
"Oh, alright then," the blond shrugged, then examined the squirming girl as if seeing her for the first time. "Hey, can she breathe?"
"Of course."
"You think? It looks like she's turning a bit blue," Claude pointed out with an affected air of concern.
Dias readjusted his grip just as Rena attempted to slip out of it and scowled. "She can breathe just fine. I'm not cutting off her air supply."
Rena finally attempted to bite his fingers and he released her. "Oh, I'm going to kill you both I swear!"
Claude lifted his hands placatingly. "Now, Rena…"
"Meanies! Brutes! Both of you! Go wash the dishes!"
Claude let her throw the apron at his head and laughed as she stomped out of the room. Then, he turned to the swordsman, "So, what was it you looked so cute in?"
Dias, already turned towards the sink, sighed heavily. "I suppose it would be too much to ask you to drop this?"
"Uh-huh." Claude was nodding enthusiastically and grinning a grin disturbingly similar to Rena's. "Come on, I want to know! What was it?"
In moments like this, as Claude proceeded to list every humiliating article of clothing he knew - "A skirt? A lace gown? High heels? A thong?" "What the hell is a thong?!" - Dias would turn his gaze skyward (or ceilingward, as it were) and not be so convinced anymore that there wasn't some all-seeing cosmic entity that had randomly decided to turn his life into a comedy skit.
~~~
Claude almost walked into the room after Dias when Westa led them upstairs, appointing them to their beds. ("What were you thinking, trying to stay at the inn?!")
It was an automatic reaction, after months of sharing a tent, a campfire, a room at an inn, living space, breathing space.
"Claude, darling? What are you doing? We do have a room for you here," Westa said, laughing softly and motioning to the door on the other end of the hallway.
Claude flushed red to the roots of his hair, embarrassed that he had been following the other man like a trained puppy, and quickly hurried to the other room. Still, even without looking at the small, cosy, empty bed, he knew it was going to be awkward, sleeping alone again.
~~~
As the night wore on, Claude began to grow increasingly frustrated. Even the sheets sticking to his skin irritated him, even though they were a lot softer and cleaner than anything he had slept on in the past few weeks, or even months. He had suspected that going to sleep would be hard, but not that it would be this hard.
After turning over for roughly the five-hundredth time that night, Claude heaved a sigh and resigned himself to another bout of embarrassment. He rolled out of bed, cracked the door open and shuffled down the hallway as noiselessly as he could.
~~~
She wakes up feeling hot.
Kicking back the thin blanket, her eyes catch sight of the curtains rippling in the breeze. She stretches out her arms towards the fresh air, but feels little difference, the slight wind bringing no relief. Water. She needs some water.
Tiptoeing down the hall and carefully avoiding the one floorboard that makes hideous creaking noises when stepped on, she makes her way to the bathroom sink and fills a glass.
Ugh. Even the water is warm, the cistern heated past reason by the sun's glare.
As she returns to the hallway, she notices the door to Dias' room standing slightly ajar. Puzzled, she steps forward, hand outstretched to close it, and freezes. Stares. Then smiles slowly.
She presses down on the handle and quietly tugs the door shut. Then, she makes her way back to her own bedroom.
Maybe it won't take that much for them to figure it out, after all.
-------
A/N: I'm pretty sure Arlia doesn't have an inn in the game, since it's hickville. XD Ah well, they do now.
Yes, this was weird. Yes, the title sucks. Did this fic suck, too? I'm truly sorry if it does. Better fanfiction when I'm better, kiddies. *runs of before she is bricked*
<< Return to Star Ocean 2 Index | Return to Fanfiction Index >>
Fandom: Star Ocean 2
Pairing: Do I even have to say this anymore? ;P
Rating: PG
Warnings: Maybe a bit of humor, maybe a bit of OOC, maybe a bit of fluff. You decide.
Disclaimer: TriAce and Squeenix don't like sharing them with me, obviously.
Of Visits and Homecomings
Even after all those months, Arlia village still looked the same, with its small houses and red-shingled roofs, the slow-flowing river and the rolling green and yellow fields around it. Still felt the same, with the sense of peaceful, languid contentment seeping into an unsuspecting visitor's bones until they found themselves adjusting to a gentler pace of a gentler time. Still smelled the same, with the air so very unlike everywhere else - unlike the multitude of scents (fresh bread and hot steel and exotic spices) in Lacour, the smell of magic in Mars or the heavy sulfur fumes wafting up from the mines in Salva - but here, the air was just pure, clean, and fresh for no reason other than that it had always been this way.
Claude breathed in deeply, stretching his arms and arching his back as far as they would go. Then he grabbed a handful of cockleburs from one of the shrubs lining the road and started launching them at the back of Dias' head, one by one. When he missed and one whizzed past Dias' cheek, the other whirled around and began advancing on him. Claude desperately tried to ward him off, but the taller man easily wrestled him into a headlock and started grinding his knuckles against his scalp, prompting Claude to be quite vocal about his discomfort.
It was amidst his pleas for help that four girls emerged from the thinning underbrush, chatting and giggling among themselves. They stopped dead when they caught sight of the two grown men behaving like children in the middle of the road, their questioning gazes darting back and forth between each other and the pair, who had frozen in place the moment their unassuming audience appeared.
"Dias... Flac?" one girl finally ventured bravely, while the others tittered nervously.
The man in question immediately dropped his companion like a hot potato and straightened his posture, leaving Claude to get up, dust himself off and trying to make himself not look like he had just been given the noogie to end all noogies.
"I'm right, aren't I?" the girl asked, more confidently than before.
"Oh my... you're the young man who left with Rena on that journey, aren't you?" another one chimed in, pointing at Claude and then blushing when she realized what she was doing.
Claude gave up on trying to comb his hair into submission and gave them an embarrassed grin. "Umm, yeah. Hello." He wriggled his fingers in a tentative wave.
Four saucer-sized pairs of eyes met this admission, and then... "By the sky, Rena, get over here!" the first girl hollered down the direction from where they had come, while the others erupted into giggling.
"I'm coming, I'm coming! It's not like this thing can just carry itself," a familiar voice floated back to them. "Now, why are you making such a sce---" By the time she arrived at the end of the sentence, Rena had emerged from the bushes, carrying a large basket filled to the brim with blueberries.
Then she caught sight of the reason for so much yelling, blinked and did the only reasonable thing to do: She dumped the basket on the ground, berries scattering everywhere, and practically flew into Claude's arms.
He caught her around the waist with an "oof", whirling her around once to regain his balance.
"Claude! You're back!"
"It's so good to see you again, Rena," he said warmly.
"Dias!"
Dias was wearing his 'hug me and die'-scowl, but Rena blithely ignored that and launched herself at him with as much force as her small body could muster. He caught her in spite of himself, and Claude couldn't hold in his snickering when he noticed how Dias was staring down at his arms with an expression of complete and utter betrayal.
-------
They almost gave Westa a heart attack when she looked up from weeding the garden and saw her daughter happily skipping towards her, two men in tow that she didn't think she would see again any time soon. After getting over her initial shock, though, she welcomed them as if they were her long-lost sons. Claude laughed when she embraced him and kissed his cheeks, allowing himself a brief pang of equal parts regret and shame, that he wanted another mother to embrace him more. Then, he concentrated on the scent of the sweet carrots she'd been pulling and the warmth of her smaller body, and felt happy again.
When Westa tried to repeat the same welcoming hug with Dias, he did something Claude had never expected to see in his whole life: Dias became skittish, his eyes nervously darting from side to side, looking for an excuse to back out. When none presented itself, he dutifully bowed and allowed the woman to embrace him. He did seem quite eager to end the hug, though, as Westa, completely disregarding the universal rule book containing all the things-not-to-do-to-dignified-six-feet-tall-swordsmen, delivered two solid motherly kisses on both his cheeks.
It was one of those moments that made Claude dearly wish for something better than Expel's sorry excuse for a camera, as Dias ducked away and only partially succeeded in hiding the red hue that had crept across his cheeks. As it was, Claude simply made a mental note to tease him mercilessly for at least a week.
~~~
Dinner was a noisy affair, the cozy parlor filled with the sounds of laughter, animated conversation and clanging cutlery and crockery. Westa cooked what Rena referred to as the Supremely Awesomely Yummy Welcome Dinner, and the food-laden table did indeed do justice to its name. Between the four of them (and two of them being young men starved of good cuisine) the food was disappearing rapidly, though, as Claude regaled them with tales of their adventures and Dias kept bringing forkfuls to his mouth under the pretense of snorting into his food whenever Claude lent a particularly ridiculous twist to a story.
~~~
All through dinner, Rena is stealing glances at both of them. She doesn't know why, it's not as if she can't look at her friends whenever she wants to, it's not like it takes something like courage to look, but she is trying to figure something out and can't let them know that she is looking.
She doesn't even know what exactly she is looking for, or why, but there's a certain something urging her on, something that tells her its important she figures out… whatever it is she's supposed to figure out.
There is something between them that she can't name. If she is looking at Dias, she would have to say that it's an absence of tension, of wariness that not even she herself was ever able to invoke, after… after.
If she is looking at Claude, she would have to say that it's something added, something more in the way his voice rises and falls, his eyes crinkle and his hands gesture animatedly… She remembers the young man she got to know on their journey together, so serious, so determined to keep them all safe, so unsure of how he fit into their ever-growing group of comrades. She remembers there were periods in between, moments when he was like this, similar but not the same. There's an extra something there now, of that she's sure.
And then it happens that Dias hand starts going for the cream potatoes and Claude says, at the same time and without looking up from his plate, "Pass the potatoes, please?"
Dias rolls his eyes like the question was completely redundant, and after a moment, she realizes it is, because Dias didn't reach for the potatoes because he wanted any. Claude has been shoveling them all evening, and there aren't any left on his plate.
It hits her like a brick on the forehead, then. This is what she has been looking for. It is right there, for the careful observer to figure out. The absence of something, the extra something.
Oh dear.
Rena's stomach flip-flops, and she quickly downs a glass of water to suppress a bout of embarrassed giggles. She looks again, watches as Claude takes the bowl and his smile turns up an extra notch, as if passing potatoes is an act deserving of deep gratitude and happiness.
And then, the moment is gone. Dias returns his attention to his plate, Westa asks Claude a question, and the something flits away, between them but not readily apparent anymore.
Her stomach flip-flops again when she realizes that she's the only one out of them who has noticed. They aren't even aware of what they're doing. There is some knowledge there, some subtle pull that makes them click, but neither of them is aware of its true extent.
Rena hopes that they won't go through life oblivious like this. Because it would be a damn shame.
Oh dear.
She reaches for her glass again.
~~~
"You are going to stay a few days, though, aren't you?"
Rena was standing at the kitchen sink, wearing a dotted apron, her arms elbow-deep in soapy water. She was looking at Dias expectantly, almost as if daring him to refuse her.
"Hmph."
"Come on, Dias. You just have to. Mom would be so happy, and we haven't seen each other in such a long time. I bet Claude wants to stay, too!"
Dias made a derisive noise at the back of his throat and put down the plate he had been holding. "Fine. Let him."
Rena's pleading look transformed into a scowl. "Well... if that's the way you want to play, I suppose I could always tell Claude about the time when we were playing dress-up and put on the-"
Dias almost dropped the plate he was holding. "We were kids," he hissed. "Kids."
The blue-haired girl smiled. "Oh well, I suppose you don't mind if I tell Claude that you looked really cute in that little purple-"
His eyes narrowed. "Don't. you. dare," he bit out, his glare promising unspeakable pain if she dared to continue. She arced an eyebrow. "Fine. We'll stay."
"Really?" Rena exclaimed, acting like she had not just coerced him into agreeing. "That's so wonderful. I knew you would see it my way!"
Dias looked like he had swallowed a slice of lemon. "Whatever. Just keep your mouth shut about... the incident."
"What incident?" Claude asked, carrying in another armful of dirty dishes.
Rena's grin turned positively evil. "Oh, nothing much. We were just talking about how cute Dias looked when he was wearing the-mmmmhm. MHMPF!" Dias, who had quickly stepped behind her and clamped a hand over her mouth as if it were the most natural thing for him to do, said, "Nothing."
"It didn't sound like nothing," Claude mused, directing all his attention to Dias and completely ignoring Rena, who was trying to get free of the hand on her mouth.
"Nothing important," Dias clarified, glaring.
"Oh, alright then," the blond shrugged, then examined the squirming girl as if seeing her for the first time. "Hey, can she breathe?"
"Of course."
"You think? It looks like she's turning a bit blue," Claude pointed out with an affected air of concern.
Dias readjusted his grip just as Rena attempted to slip out of it and scowled. "She can breathe just fine. I'm not cutting off her air supply."
Rena finally attempted to bite his fingers and he released her. "Oh, I'm going to kill you both I swear!"
Claude lifted his hands placatingly. "Now, Rena…"
"Meanies! Brutes! Both of you! Go wash the dishes!"
Claude let her throw the apron at his head and laughed as she stomped out of the room. Then, he turned to the swordsman, "So, what was it you looked so cute in?"
Dias, already turned towards the sink, sighed heavily. "I suppose it would be too much to ask you to drop this?"
"Uh-huh." Claude was nodding enthusiastically and grinning a grin disturbingly similar to Rena's. "Come on, I want to know! What was it?"
In moments like this, as Claude proceeded to list every humiliating article of clothing he knew - "A skirt? A lace gown? High heels? A thong?" "What the hell is a thong?!" - Dias would turn his gaze skyward (or ceilingward, as it were) and not be so convinced anymore that there wasn't some all-seeing cosmic entity that had randomly decided to turn his life into a comedy skit.
~~~
Claude almost walked into the room after Dias when Westa led them upstairs, appointing them to their beds. ("What were you thinking, trying to stay at the inn?!")
It was an automatic reaction, after months of sharing a tent, a campfire, a room at an inn, living space, breathing space.
"Claude, darling? What are you doing? We do have a room for you here," Westa said, laughing softly and motioning to the door on the other end of the hallway.
Claude flushed red to the roots of his hair, embarrassed that he had been following the other man like a trained puppy, and quickly hurried to the other room. Still, even without looking at the small, cosy, empty bed, he knew it was going to be awkward, sleeping alone again.
~~~
As the night wore on, Claude began to grow increasingly frustrated. Even the sheets sticking to his skin irritated him, even though they were a lot softer and cleaner than anything he had slept on in the past few weeks, or even months. He had suspected that going to sleep would be hard, but not that it would be this hard.
After turning over for roughly the five-hundredth time that night, Claude heaved a sigh and resigned himself to another bout of embarrassment. He rolled out of bed, cracked the door open and shuffled down the hallway as noiselessly as he could.
~~~
She wakes up feeling hot.
Kicking back the thin blanket, her eyes catch sight of the curtains rippling in the breeze. She stretches out her arms towards the fresh air, but feels little difference, the slight wind bringing no relief. Water. She needs some water.
Tiptoeing down the hall and carefully avoiding the one floorboard that makes hideous creaking noises when stepped on, she makes her way to the bathroom sink and fills a glass.
Ugh. Even the water is warm, the cistern heated past reason by the sun's glare.
As she returns to the hallway, she notices the door to Dias' room standing slightly ajar. Puzzled, she steps forward, hand outstretched to close it, and freezes. Stares. Then smiles slowly.
She presses down on the handle and quietly tugs the door shut. Then, she makes her way back to her own bedroom.
Maybe it won't take that much for them to figure it out, after all.
-------
A/N: I'm pretty sure Arlia doesn't have an inn in the game, since it's hickville. XD Ah well, they do now.
Yes, this was weird. Yes, the title sucks. Did this fic suck, too? I'm truly sorry if it does. Better fanfiction when I'm better, kiddies. *runs of before she is bricked*
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