Title: A Selfish Want

Rating: T to be safe

Pairing: Yuan/Botta, or YuBoat because I like smashing names together.

Summary: Four hours are more painful than four thousand years when you didn't say goodbye. Yuan ponders the relationship he had with his second-in-command. Yuan/Botta (Don't read if you don't like!), major spoilers.

Author's Warnings: Major spoilers to the end of the game (curse you, Kratos!). I know I'm taking a huge risk with this pairing because my fan base ships Sheelos, mainly; but I felt like Botta needed a tribute. I don't really care if you don't like the pairing. And anyway, I wanted to explore different aspects of the game, and this was my first choice. Anyone reading thus far can expect a few more rare pairings as well as more Sheelos in the future. 'Kay, that's all! Please read and review.

A SELFISH WANT

In the art of subtlety, Yuan had always been somewhat blessed. Or so he thought. Maybe in business, but when it came to love, his thoughts were on his sleeve. With Martel, it had been an almost normal attraction and courtship. The War was a blur to the lovebirds. Their engagement was expected, clean, simple. But hell, looking back? The most attractive thing about her wasn't her smile, her eyes, or her personality. It was the fact that she, a half-elf, was in the same predicament as he. He felt like she knew him because of that connection. Apparently, though, he didn't know her. She begged for death when it showed itself. And then she was gone from his active heart.

He went for years, a few thousand, an empty soul. But then the pain dulled, and the determined half-elf set out to free his love of her unfinished business. The only impediment was the incessantly vigilant and controlling brother of hers. Man, was he annoying. In order to combat him, Yuan had to arrange a force of like-minded drones.

He couldn't do it alone.

Even now as he sat in his elegant office, he knew that never alone would he have gotten all of this. Lackeys included. He smiled vaguely, wanly, hoping…

Long ago, he ran into a half-elf whose future was unclear, but definitely headed in the wrong way. Botta. There existed a strong urge to see if he couldn't reform him. Not only was he bright, but he was also a born leader. He would be able to handle the ranks of the rebellious soldiers when Yuan could not. And he was strong. And strangely attractive. Yes, he would fit in nicely.

Botta was moved into the highest ranking position as soon as was possible, taking into account that the other Renegades would notice and revolt if favoritism arose. Yuan could hardly believe he favored anyone, himself. Brown hair and a goatee were pretty much as far away from a green-haired maiden as you could get.

Lord Botta, as he was now called, expertly organized and carried out missions for the eradication of Cruxis. He proved his worth time and time again, but he was still called into Yuan's office quite often. Oh, not for business, really. Yuan simply liked his company.

And the more time they spent together, the more he felt himself falling for his subordinate. He hoped it wasn't too obvious. Then again, if it were obvious, all the easier to gauge Botta's reaction; most of the time he was about as emotional as a rock, anyway. So, would he be frightened? Belligerent? Or would he be flattered and pleased? Would—could Botta see worth in a broken thing like Yuan? Could he see the need to forget that pain…? One thing was clear. In order to move forward, Yuan would have to explain his past. It wasn't the best subject, but as he approached it, he realized he had never revealed it to anyone before.

The Angel-of-Cruxis, I-have-a-dead-lover-and-a-scarring-past speech. It came in small segments whenever Yuan thought they were having a bonding 'moment.' Botta seemed to understand, though he remained taciturn. But then, he always seemed to know to some degree what Yuan was thinking, feeling. That's what made getting ahead of the business calendar easy. The hard part was watching in agony as Botta came and went from mission to mission, unsuspecting of the deeper feeling.

Once (and only once) during the early months, Botta failed a mission to destroy a death-weapon of sorts that Yggdrasill had built at the edge of Sylvarant. Yuan didn't much care. "If it's still there, you'll have the opportunity later on," he said with a shrug.

"You mean, you won't fire me?"

"Of course not, no!" Not ever. "It's a matter of forgiving. I know that the system will rectify itself if and only if you're on the team. The problem is, can I forget that you caused a major setback in our plans?"

"Sir, I will do everything in my power to put us back on schedule."

The very next day, boom, bye-bye ranch. Mission accomplished. Six days before the next scheduled attempt. Interesting.

-

Sometime later that year the episode with Kratos and Anna occurred. Kratos had been betraying Yggdrasill's wishes by his marriage to a mortal woman. It was a brilliant distraction… it almost inspired Yuan. If Kratos had loved in the open for so long, why couldn't Yuan carry on a relationship in secret? He had his own headquarters. And Kratos, Kratos was messy and didn't cover his tracks. Kratos had a child by that woman. Well, there certainly wasn't a risk of that. The only obstacle—well, there were two.

Firstly, what if Botta didn't accept his advances? Yuan tried to make himself as unreadable as possible, and it would likely confuse him. How to approach it. Secondly, there was still a gap in his heart from when Martel decided she needed to die. Mortal death was a confusing subject lately. Yuan would presumably never die because of his Cruxis crystal. Anyone without that particular rare variety of crystal would perish. So, anyone Yuan wanted to become involved with would die, too… There was only one way to find out if the risk would be worth it.

"Sir, I've just received word that Kratos is on the move. Should I track him?" Botta questioned through the intercom system.

"No, don't bother. Actually, I want you in my office as soon as possible, if that's the case." Less than a minute from cellar barracks to the room. Record time. "Botta, I've been thinking."

"Careful—I mean, about what, sir?"

Yuan smirked. "Shut up. You know, Kratos saw that Anna woman for five years before anything happened. That means Yggdrasill is getting slow."

"Yes, sir. I noticed that, too, sir," Botta responded.

"Yu-an," he enunciated. "My name; use it." There was a slight pause.

"Well, I don't mean to undermine you, but I think it would be best if I went out with a squad, because Kratos—"

"Not you. No, send out Rodolfo's team to do that," Yuan interrupted. "That is, uh, they could earn a pay raise if they succeed this time. If they impress me."

Botta raised his eyebrow, a quizzical glance. "All right, s—Lord Yuan, if you think it's best, I'll get Rodolfo on line 6 and tell him."

He began to leave. For a moment, Yuan just looked on stupidly, admiring the motivation in that man and not really aware of his impending absence. "—Botta!" Just in time.

"Yes, s—?"

"You're too damn efficient. Come back over and sit down. I can handle this easily," Yuan said quickly. He pressed a green button on the com system, which connected him to a loudspeaker in the barracks. "Dalma—get on the line." A few clicks, then a deep voice. "Rodolfo? I need you to send out a tracking party of your finest men so we can follow Kratos."

"Sir, we haven't been given any coordinates. You deliberately hid them from us—"

"Go now and find them!"

The voice on the other end faltered. "Yes, my lord."

"There's a pay raise in it for you if your group succeeds."

"…Thank you, my lord. We shall complete the task immediately!"

Click.

And there was Botta, sitting in the comfy chair across the desk, just staring.

"What? What are you looking at? Is there something on my face?" Yuan asked. There was something about the way Botta was looking at him. Disgust, or intrigue?

"Not at all, Lord Yuan. I just think I could have handled a tiny conversation like that," Botta replied slyly.

"You could have done the tracking entirely by yourself. I have no doubts in your ability."

"Then, why do you keep calling me back here?"

Yuan quickly glanced away to try to stop the blush that crawled across his cheeks. "It's of no importance, the why. I want to keep an eye on you, is all. Just in case I have to entrust you with the job of taking care of the base. Cruxis meetings, you know."

"Okay…"

They sat in silence for a moment before Yuan shifted and cleared his throat.

"Something on your mind, sir?" Botta asked.

Yeah, you. You ever wonder why I'm so easily frustrated? I'm constantly weighing whether or not to flirt because it puts everything in danger. Or whether or not you know what I'm really thinking, or if anyone else knows, or if Yggdrasill's watching.

"Botta, tell me something. You got a girlfriend, a family, anything like that?"

He blinked. "No, my lord. I only have the Renegades. Anything like that is out of the question. I never even thought about a family."

"Me either. I hate kids. Especially fourteen-year-old boys. Heh. Uh… So."

"I thought you knew that about me already."

"The girlfriend thing? Nope. Well, I might have, erm… forgotten, if you're sure you told me," Yuan said.

"I filled it out on the job application."

"Oh," laughed the half-elf. "I never read it. Didn't you just assume you were being hired? I mean, I knew the second I saw you…"

"Is it true, Yuan?"

Heart pounding, he blurted, "What? What…?" Botta never asked questions. It was either a milestone, or… Don't tell me there are rumors about why I call you in here so much…What do you know already?

"Yourself and Martel. Is it true you were engaged? Is that what's… bothering you?"

"Oh. Yes." He stared down at his desk. Oh, god, what timing. Just as he had mustered the courage to talk to Botta, Martel was brought back to the foreground. It wasn't really the thing on his mind, but any lie would draw the truth out of him eventually. "Where did you hear that?"

"Some of the new recruits still think Martel is a goddess. They… wanted to know how a goddess could fall in love with a half-elf," Botta explained.

"What the hell? Sure, it's true, but never listen to those newbies!" Yuan shouted. "They know nothing about love."

Botta placed his hands in his lap nervously. "Well, if they looked up to their leader, they might find him as loving as any other half-elf and see that he deserves Martel's affection."

"What are you even saying, Botta?" Yuan muttered. He placed an elbow on the desk so that he could prop his forehead in his hand. A compliment? Not now. Please, not now. No Martel. You're ruining the moment, can't you see?

"I've been alone for a lifetime, but you? An eternity. Sir, that's a long time. Of course you know better than they do," Botta said.

"I don't want to talk about it. She's in the past."

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't—I'd better go check on the search," he mumbled. He shot out of the chair and went for the door. This time, Yuan stood as well, and followed him.

"Stop, wait! You didn't do anything wrong. I… can't seem to let it go. I only wanted to see you about something I need to know. I just… I have to know, that's all I want," Yuan pleaded. Botta spun around to see his superior, standing only centimeters away from him. Very close now. Was he really that much shorter?

Yuan reached out for Botta's cheek. It felt warm, but not a woman's warmth. Firm male. Bones, stubble, jaw. Botta didn't shy away. Excellent. Maybe. Then Yuan leaned forward just enough to be ambiguous. He waited, and there were Botta's lips, pressing themselves upon his own. There were the chills; he swayed back a bit. But Botta's mouth caught his another time, and he all but fell into the other man.

It was wrong, maybe, to kiss your employee. It was most certainly wrong to kiss a man if you were one. Yuan didn't much care. Lines had been blurred years ago, about who was what and the meaning of passion. Those were days he would have rather never had. But finally, all of the wounds could heal. He almost thanked Martel for her sheer existence, seeing as to how she provided common ground for himself and Botta. Martel had led him into a strong embrace with a person who truly cared for him, who wouldn't want to be murdered, who knew the answers. He owed her something. Eventually. But now, please, just soak up whatever you can.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Click. "Lord Yuan? We seem to be having a problem in the hangar. The Rheiards aren't working and we can't get the door open." Officer Rodolfo Dalma over the com. Shit, shit, shit.

Yuan sighed, head on Botta's shoulder. "Duty calls, I suppose. If I don't go, those dumbfucks will blow the whole place up. But… hold that thought, okay?"

"Let me take care of this. I know the Rheiard system better anyway," Botta suggested. He unwound himself from Yuan gently. "I'll… see you soon, sir." With that, he fled the room.

The door closed in front of Yuan's nose; he guessed he didn't stand far back enough after he had watched Botta leave. He strode across the room and collapsed at his chair. The question had been, would you be able to love me enough to help me destroy my past? The answer was, a resounding and whole, yes. "Finally," he said aloud. Spark of hope.

-

Chaos grew around the bases. Rodolfo Dalma's team disappeared completely while en route to Kratos, and then Kratos was nowhere to be found (maybe the Renegades should stop using tomato-scented body gel?). Both were great losses to the effort. Botta went out solo but always came back empty-handed. There was not much more they could do than to scrounge around for details, info, anything.

There was the occasional rendezvous here and there, but largely, the two commanders of the Renegades were apart. And Yuan could live with that. It didn't arouse suspicion among the ranks, and it made every time he met with Botta a little more precious. Except the briefings for missions. Those, he could have done without. But Spiritua Day made up for it because everyone was too drunk to care who was snogging who. Good times. Long years.

One day, though, something occurred that instantly put Yuan's mind back on track. The Oracle of the Chosen. Wow, was it time for the next Chosen already? Fourteen years had passed since Yuan's decision to make Botta a bigger part of his life. It seemed yesterday.

Yuan immediately sent out his associate to capture the new Chosen. Although, he did think at one point that maybe just this once he should let the Chosen go for a while. Maybe just have Botta take pictures to see how much she didn't resemble a Yggdrasill. That couldn't happen this time around. This time, he had a crew of knowledgeable subordinates, and an actual chance of snaring the young boy or girl who had been destined to become Martel.

And wouldn't you know. At the temple of the girl's hometown, Kratos was waiting for them as if he'd been the one on the tracking mission. The Renegades were forced to retreat. But they had coordinates on Kratos, which would also be the coordinates of the Chosen from then on. Piece of cake. In no time, Martel would be allowed to rest.

Well, the plans didn't fare as well as everyone expected. As research about the two worlds and all the seals that the Chosen broke continued, Yuan came to know that their true target should be Lloyd Irving. The son of Kratos was he, and also the next in line to be able to wield a weapon powerful enough to undo Yggdrasill's damage. Yuan also learned about something he wished he could prevent.

"Lord Yuan," Botta said, straightening his collar. His voice sounded clear in the tight space. "I almost forgot what I came here to tell you."

The blue-haired man laughed as he tried to compose himself. "That happens when you toss someone in a closet and try to make the best of five minutes."

"In all seriousness. Lloyd and the Chosen's group are going to need some assistance when we go to the Remote Island. Meaning we need assistance from them. Do you allow it?"

"Ye—just do whatever it is that has to be done to get Martel's wish carried out. I'll leave it to you. Is my hair a mess?"

"I can't tell, it's too dark. Where are you?" Botta questioned. He waved his hand in front of him only to accidentally smack Yuan in the face.

"Ow, I'm right here. Where's the damn door?"

"Sir, wait just a minute. Can't we have one more minute?"

Yuan paused. "Are you actually begging me to stay?"

"This is no joke. I—want to make this last. I may not see you for a long, long time. I've never asked for more, ever. This is it, I promise. Just, one more?"

"You make it sound like this is a particularly dangerous mission," Yuan commented. He grudgingly consented to Botta's wish; he was surprised to be left gasping for air at sixty-one seconds. What had gotten into that man that he, all of a sudden, wanted them to be closer? "Okay… Let's go… Someone definitely might have heard that."

Botta blocked the door. "… Are you afraid, Yuan?"

"Well, I'll just explain to said someone that if he doesn't keep his mouth shut—"

"No, are you afraid for my life?" Botta corrected. "Are you aware that in order to destroy Rodyle, I might have to sacrifice myself?"

Yuan battled for the door handle, barking, "Don't be ridiculous. This is routine. You can handle it without that." The door of the broom closet swung open. He wordlessly marched out, avoiding Botta and setting a grueling pace down the hallway.

Botta stepped out and closed the door. Did he even know his cloak was half-dragging on the floor? Of course not. Nor did it matter. It was no use trying to follow him. Botta took a breath and headed for his personal chambers. He should have said something earlier, years ago, if he was going to put himself on the line now. There was no way to do his job without that risk that would break Yuan's heart. He shouldn't have gotten so close.

-

Gone now, for a few hours. Why couldn't Yuan stop pacing? Botta's words taunted him wherever he went. Are you afraid? Well, are you?

Of course I'm afraid, Yuan thought. I'm scared shitless because if you die, that's it. I'm sick of everyone I care about sacrificing themselves because of what is good for the world as a whole. Botta, damn you, if you do anything reckless, I swear.

He would probably die. Those were the odds. But that was the price, the karma. Neglect to tell the man you love him and he'll leave you. Alone with your torment, and your lackeys, and Martel. They stared at him in his dreams, waking and sleeping, cruel. When… if it happened, Yuan would have to find a way to get his crystal off, somehow. To die, finally. Then he would find peace in real heaven, not the Cruxis lie. Real heaven with real Botta. And next time, they would laugh more, say more, do more.

But now, if Botta… if he didn't come back, there would be an emptiness until Martel was laid to rest. No excited sneaking around the base to find an empty room. No inside jokes, no safety words. No secret to hide, anymore. No one to organize the movement, and nowhere to hide. It would be all over.

Then, finally, something on the intercom. "Sir? Lord Yuan—?" He reached for the button on the transmitter with frantic speed. Nobody would say 'sir' and 'lord' in the same breath except for one man.

"Yes? Yes, who is this? Answer immediately!"

"Lieutenant Rhus, sir." Damn it. "We're having a huge problem. You see, Rodyle programmed for the human ranch victims to drown in their little room, and we can't stop the water. When we tried, it just started water flow to this room, and now it's filling up rapidly."

"Well—Do—Is Botta there?"

"Yes, sir. But he didn't want me to call, so—"

"Get me Botta on the line, damn you!" Yuan shouted, slamming his fist on the desk.

"Okay, okay—" There was a pause, but Yuan could hear something in the background that sickened him. Most surely, rushing water as if from a fount.

"Sir?"

"Botta!"

"Sir, we've saved Lloyd and the Chosen's group by setting them off to a room on the side. But once this room fills up, it will have to go somewhere else, and it will bust through to the other door. Send someone out with Rheiards and something to blow up a ceiling," Botta's voice rang.

"What the? Where are you, and how are you going to get out if there's…" He came to the disgusting realization. "Botta, why are you doing this?"

"We'll be fine, don't worry. We have… how much do you think?" A far-off voice said, "Probably ten minutes." "Fifteen minutes until the room floods completely. We'll think of something. You need to get Lloyd's group out of there, and the prisoners." Since when did the Renegades take care of others?

Yuan began to panic. There was no way out of those thick walls. Botta wouldn't ask the Chosen for help, anyway, if it meant saving face for the Renegades.

"And we've set up this ranch's reactor for firing mana, so you can begin the process whenever you'd like. Yuan… Sir, are you there?"

"I'm here, I'm… Botta, I'm sorry about earlier, I really am. Just get yourself out of there. I can't lose you. I mean, you can't do this to me after all I've been through!" Yuan screamed into the receiver. "That's not the plan, don't you dare do this!"

"We're short—out!" A dull voice, not Botta's. "Wa—… Get us—…"

Yuan wasn't sure what action to take. Was it just their mic? Could they still hear a message? "Botta? Are you there—?" Stupid question. "Can you hear me?" Also unlikely at this point. The static began to fade from the other line. "Botta!" Don't panic. Okay? Don't panic. Red button: all rooms in the base, even his. "I need a rescue mission to the Remote Island Ranch immediately, and if someone doesn't get their ass in my office now—" You're all fired? What good would that do?

Intercom. "Lord Yuan, you called?" Yuan opened the doors of his office and tried to relax; at least someone had heard. "Good Martel, what's happened to you?" the feminine voice called.

"No time to explain. Call for backup, at least five soldiers, and go into my room. You'll see a circle—teleport. State you want location code 30774, it'll take you to just outside the Remote Island Ranch. Break through the ceiling, the big… the domed ceiling," Yuan ordered. He found himself lightheaded from speaking too quickly. It wasn't that he needed breath, but how he couldn't control the basic function of communication. Perhaps, for the first time in centuries, he was experiencing real, gut-wrenching fear when it mattered.

"How many are we rescuing? What are the conditions?" the woman asked with a touch of urgency. "Will we need weapons?"

"Three, if possible; drowning; big laser, open the roof… Look, if you don't leave now, I will see to it that your family is slaughtered. Out of my sight!"

The girl gave a sort of whimper before rushing out for help. Terror in her eyes unprecedented. She'd never seen her commanding officer so in a wreck. Even weeks ago when half of the soldiers didn't return with Lord Botta, he had only seemed mildly concerned. Why, for three soldiers, lest they be Martel incarnate? Nevertheless, she scurried to the nearest barrack and collected the means, trying to complete the task as soon as possible. Her life was at stake.

—Her family? Where did that come from, Yuan wondered. Unlike him to cause unnecessary harm. Never would he have given his soldiers a punishment more severe than, say, a month's pay suspension. It wasn't worth going out of his way. Who was he trying to kid, making it sound like he had the time or desire to hunt down that poor woman's parents? It was like he had borrowed Yggdrasill's conscious. In order to save Martel…

No. No. He was not going to kill millions, this was different. Martel wanted to be left alone to die, but Botta only ever wanted to serve. Botta was too great a factor to the Renegades. Botta was crucial. Martel knew, but Botta…

Yuan sat. If giving up all the pretty things in this room would safeguard Botta to him… If relinquishing Martel would bring him here unharmed… Sacrifices.

Idly, he opened the desk drawer to keep himself distracted. Paper clips. Stapler. Sticky notes. Picture from the Spiritua Eve party that he forgot to put in a safer place. 4015, good year. A silly sprig of holly was dangling from his right hand as he draped himself across his unsuspecting second-in-command and kissed his cheek. Botta's face was priceless. And that night, Yuan was forced to smooch a number of other random Renegades so as to not make anything obvious. It was fun, even if Spiritua's cause was meaningless bullshit. Yuan had only let the base celebrate because it gave their morale a boost. On that night, all the rules were forgotten and they could simply be happy, mischievous, and affectionate. Now, he wondered if the startled man in the picture would be alive to return that kiss.

-

"It's shorting out. The water's everywhere. Lord Yuan, can you hear us? Get us help!" Nexin cried into the transmitter. It was no use. The thing died—Nexin cursed himself for not changing the batteries.

The inundation had risen to their feet. "How are we going to get ourselves out of this one if we can't contact the base?" Rhus asked.

Botta turned to him and said, "Swim."

"What? You've got to be crazy. There's nowhere to swim. Or, we'll tread water for a few minutes, and then drown."

"We don't even have our weapons!"

"This is madness!"

"Have you forgotten that on the other side of this glass panel we have an ally?" Botta posed. "Zelos Wilder is good for one principle: help the stronger side. Up to this moment, we've been undoubtedly stronger. Now, we are going to have to do some swimming, but I informed him of this danger beforehand. Wilder has loosed a panel that covers a hole in the lower wall, like a drain. It connects with the system that pumps sewage to the ocean outside. The only problem is that the drain will be slower and smaller than the water valve."

"Ah—" Rhus began, "So, if we want to get out, we have to swim down there. But won't the current bring us back up?"

Botta glanced at the expanse of water before them, trying to gauge the flow rate. "Not likely. The distance between the sources is great. The bigger problem is that the escape is one person wide, and at the very bottom. There's a lot of pressure as well. But it will be easier if we move now," Botta instructed. His companions nodded.

Instruction was given to remove any excess weight on their bodies, forcing Nexin to give up a picture of his school sweetheart. Its glossy paper soaked like tissue and floated around his knees. Rhus and Botta only had to surrender their armor, but they imagined the pain of giving up such a unique item.

Rhus dove in first. He fought the frigid waters with his fists swinging; he could not sink fast enough, but the delay allowed him to spot the ugly aperture on the wall. He rose up for air momentarily and forced his way back down. Kicking out the grate, Rhus swam through to an unknown safety.

"He's found it," Nexin informed Botta, though it was obvious. Nervous tick to repeat information; from his young days as secretary, they guessed.

"You're next."

"Sir, but—What if there's danger behind you?"

"You have nothing more to protect me than I. There are no bodyguards here. And remember," Botta reprimanded, "our duty is based on courage, not sentiment. I will take the rear guard with responsibility.

Gingerly, Nexin made his way through the room. He squinted to find the gap; he'd never been particularly fond of swimming. The outward force sucked him into the drain with no difficulty. Botta's heart jumped.

Naught to do but hold your breath and let Fate guide your limbs.

As he approached the exit, Botta saw a chair—one of many that floated in the room—head toward the drain. But, instead of going in vertically or horizontally, it became lodged in an X-shape. He felt the adrenaline flowing, the spinning of his senses from the lungs tired of waiting. Kick. Kick harder. Pull the thing, the thing, get it—!

With his last measure of strength, Botta pushed the legs of the chair.

And he thought, blue; the clear Altamira-like blue. Perhaps dying in this sea isn't so horrid. It just about matches his hair.

-

"Lord Yuan?"

He slammed the drawer shut and jumped to his feet. "Enter," his voice breaking. Catch it.

The door slid open and a low-ranking private stepped inside and saluted.

"You've word?" Not even, "At ease." There was no possibility of ease.

"Sir, our soldiers have spotted nine beings, including the Chosen, escaping via skyway from the ranch," the private stated.

Nine. Most likely Lloyd's group, if the Chosen was there. "Zelos Wilder among them?"

"We have no way to be sure."

Not the red hair, goofy grin, Cruxis crystal, anything? "…So, the vessel is safe. Did you encounter human ranch escapees?" Yuan asked cautiously, remembering the last plea of Botta.

"We have not confirmed their presence, but we are likely to assume that at least one has been rescued by the Chosen when considering the numbers."

All right. The bare minimum was met by the Renegades. Now, the dreaded remaining factor. "What of Bo—what of Lord Botta, Rhus, and Nexin?"

"Lord—" Did Lord Yuan just almost address Lord Botta so casually?—"Botta sent a transmission some time ago stating that he completed the mission and wishes you to know."

"Yes, yes—he—I know that!" Yuan shouted. "But where the hell is he? …and the others?"

The private slowly said, "We don't know."

Yuan clenched his jaw to subdue a verbal onslaught. "Damn it, private. I sent out a squad specifically to locate him and bring him back here almost twenty minutes ago! No word?" The boy opened his mouth to say something. "—Are you sure you want to answer like that?"

"We… lost contact with that group shortly after the reports of the Chosen were received."

Yuan glared at him. Hostile half-elven eyes piercing through the boy's helmet. "Get out of this office," he said evenly.

He didn't recall how the private exited. All that existed were the nine missing Renegades. That's the last time he would send out a rescue mission without himself present. Cruelly, "If only that victim of the Chosen's was dead in his place." If only the important one had surely survived.

The contemplation was agony.

An hour or so had passed when finally another knock sounded. When Yuan gave no answer, the soldier on the other side pressed a hand through to test if it was safe to enter. No response; he opened the door. Salute.

"Lord Yuan, we regret to inform you that… that it has come to our knowledge that three soldiers were lost at the ranch."

He waited in the terrible pause. Lists of hundreds of names would not be so long.

"Lieutenants Aron Rhus and Thalion Nexin, and our Lord Botta Aitenos."

Something terrible convulsed within him, to hear that name read with monotonous neglect. Lord Botta Aitenos. He was no Lord today. He was just Botta. Nothing else. No other name or place for him other than where you're standing, kid. Why isn't he where you're standing…

"I… see."

"I'm very sorry, sir. I know what he meant to us," the soldier apologized.

No, you don't, Yuan thought. You don't have any idea what he meant to me. You can't even use first person to tell me he's dead. Who hired you?

"Ah, but—Lord Yuan, Lloyd and the Chosen's group request entrance to see you. I'm sorry to cut you short on time, but it seems they have vital reports. May I let them in?"

"So—soon?" Yuan managed to say. Inviting them in would mean a tough façade if they brought it up. Maybe that would be better. When he thought about it, yeah; they only suffered a "loss" of those three, which meant they could be missing. Yes, missing. "S… send them in. And when you leave, I want you to find me a female private, the one with blonde hair and a timid disposition."

"Steffin? She's in the hospital wing, but I'll see what I can do."

"Yeah, wheel her in, if you must," Yuan ordered. The soldier saluted, yes-sirred, and left the office.

Never so empty, this room, until now. A moment later, the door opened and a hopelessly ragtag group of people entered. Lloyd, the Chosen, Wilder, Fujibayashi … that one had an experiment done with Exspheres, this one was a duke in Tethe'alla… the two half-elves. Yet for their odd appearances, they all sported the same somber look on their faces.

"… You're back."

The Chosen stepped forward. "Yuan… Botta is…"

"He died," he stated, testing the way it sounded. 'He's dead' was harsher on the tongue. Though, it didn't seem like he should be saying the thing at all. It didn't seem real.

"Yes… He asked us to tell you that he completed his mission," Lloyd said. Their eyes locked. A thousand images spiraled out of control in Yuan's mind. There was no "missing" about it. Nothing would upset an Aurion so much as death of an innocent. That look so immediately reminded him of Kratos.

"I see…" Botta had gone a bit overboard with telling others to tell Yuan when he'd already told him himself. Then again, that was the only way to be sure it was Botta who sent the transmissions. When it came to informing Yuan, every measure was taken. Old sentiment.

Now, what were these pests here for again? Ah, permission. Yuan would encourage them to go to Tethe'alla to leave him in peace. "We'll activate the dimensional transfer system. You may go between the worlds as you like," he said.

"Is that all you have to say?" Lloyd yelled. "Botta gave his life for the Renegades and all you can—"

"Lloyd! It is not our place to speak," the Duke interrupted.

What do you mean, all I can say is, "I see." Huh, Lloyd? Do you have any idea what it's like to lose the one person in the world who cares about you? Who's allowed to care about you?

"Hey, this guy has been with that Botta for a long time. Nothing we say will make a difference," said Zelos. His eyes darted to Yuan on the word 'been.' Ah, he'd tried to hide it from Zelos, but the man was too keen on relationships. He'd been something of a matchmaker in life. Claimed he couldn't help it. Somehow he always knew. Though the emphasis was subtle, it didn't matter who found out now.

"…Fine," Lloyd conceded.

Yuan took a sharp breath, which was thankfully interrupted by the female half-elf. Sage, was it? Refill, or Raine, or something? "Oh, I almost forgot. Our companion borrowed a Rheiard from you, so we'll return it to you now."

"—Borrowed one of our Rheiards? We haven't…" To his knowledge, all of the Rheiards were returned when Private Steffin…

"What's wrong?" asked the pink-haired girl.

"Ah—no, it's nothing. We'll take care of it," Yuan assured. "Ask the control room staff about procuring energy for the dimensional transfer system." He shuffled around in his pocket for a key card that would proffer their entry. Receiving the card, Raine led the others outside without a word. Everyone kept to themselves. Well, except for Lloyd.

"… Yuan, I'm sorry," he said simply. Then he went with the others. Yuan swore; was Kratos channeling something through his son? Uncanny. Uncanny… It was Martel all over again.

Hey, what the hell was up with the Rheiards?

-

"Lord Yuan, sir, it's me," a girl's voice rang. She entered the office warily; Yuan's chair had been turned away from the door. "Steffin? You wanted to see me?"

"Oh. Come in, sit. I want to know the details of your… expedition," Yuan said to the wall. It became easier to feign anger over hurt.

Private Steffin trembled. "Don't be cross with me, Lord Yuan. Please, it wasn't my fault. Just don't hurt my family!" she pleaded.

"I—" Won't. Wasn't going to in the first place. "Why is that, that I would be cross with you?" Sometimes it was as though these soldiers were his children.

"Just, please! Promise me," she demanded. Her eyes misted over.

"All right. I swear." She was a half-elf, after all.

"Well," she began, "when we arrived, we saw some people leaving the scene, and three were half-elves. I thought they might be ours, but then I saw Agent Wilder. I called the base and let them know… Then we came to that big roof you'd mentioned, and we hacked at the metal, and it gave way. The water was almost at the brim, but nobody was to be found. Lewis checked. That's why the transmitter broke—he swam down to see. When he found some items, we figured we might as well check the surrounding area, because it just didn't add up. If you want to see what we found, it's in a room by the holding bay."

A pause. Oh, she ended her garrulous chatter. "No, thanks. Continue." There must be some point to this.

"Are you certain? Because we found Lord Botta's armor."

"But no… No Botta?"

"A-actually," the girl stuttered, "we… did find some, er, people, but… Oh, no, he told me not to tell you because you'd worry and then…"

Yuan spun his chair around. "What? You spoke with Botta?"

Bloodshot eyes, frizzed hair, and a general slump enveloped him, but he was still able to hold power over her. "Y-yes," she squeaked. "He's, um, actually at the Tethe'alla hospital wing."

"You're… joking." She had to be. Yuan would not curl up for half an hour and quietly sob like a sissy (which, he still vehemently expresses, he did not) and have Botta still be alive. What? Dock in pay for little miss Amy Steffin…

"I'm not, sir. He wanted me to tell you some things… But… I think he had a lot of blood loss at the time. I think maybe you should see him. He's not in good condition." Steffin was flustered, blushing; she hoped to talk her way out of trouble. "Please, sir, it was his orders that I not tell you."

"Like hell, he's alive. His orders? Peh!" Yuan barked. "Listen, I'm not going to waste an hour of my time getting to the other world just for some prank. Someone's life is no joke. Botta's life certainly was not. Get… get out."

Steffin backed up. "N… no, Lord Yuan," she said. "It's not a trick, and you have to see him. You're pushing away everyone, even the person who really cares about you! I promise, I'll even take you there myself."

Absentmindedly, Yuan brushed back his hair. If she was telling the truth, 'not in good condition' is the worst news he could hear. But it was better than, 'dead.' "… As fast as you can."

-

When the Rheiards finally arrived at the Tethe'alla base, there was a silence about the entire place. The hospital wing, especially. Yuan fell suspect to averted eyes and helmets being removed. Fishy, if not entirely suspicious. The woman at the entrance to the rooms was unnecessarily kind.

"Would you like someone to show you in?" she questioned. "We can even get you some Flanoir potion, if you'd like. Anything for my lord, if he wishes." I wish for you to quit playing this joke.

"No," Yuan declined. He turned to Steffin. "You're staying right here. Don't anyone think of following me."

Nobody did. Only whispers caught up with him, whispers of, "Does he know?" and "That poor Nexin fellow," and "Only two? Not for long."

On the door, 30774. Botta's number. Originally he was soldier 30726, but Yuan had it altered so that it cleverly resembled the characters of his name. That way, he could find him easily in a pool of numbers. 30774. Now it was a tag on a hospital door. He opened it. His heart stopped.

It was Botta.

Why had they lied to him? He rushed to the half-elf's side. "Botta—are you sleeping? Wake up," he urged gently. He had some nerve to fall asleep like this.

"Yuan? Thank the heavens you've arrived."

Botta's mouth never moved, nor did his chest with the rise and fall of breath. "How… are you…?"

"This is my conscious only."

"I thought… you died, they told me," Yuan whispered.

"Don't get your hopes up. I'm not going to last much longer in this form anyway."

Yuan glanced up and down the figure in the cot. "What do you mean? Answer!"

"Calm down. I'm in a passive state... I did escape from the fate of drowning, but I suffered a blow to the stomach from a chair that became wedged in the drain. You can… you can look if you want to. It's not so bad."

Yuan pulled back the stiff sheet and saw the bandage across Botta's middle. It must have slashed straight from navel to shoulder. Amazingly, there was not an excessive amount of blood. So why was he…?

"Nexin… wasn't so lucky. The water got to his lungs before we could aid him, but we carried him back anyhow."

"That doesn't explain why you're unconscious, Boat," Yuan said.

"Look, the Exsphere…" Yuan moved his eyes upward on Botta's torso and suddenly realized why Botta could not speak. The thing had shattered halfway, and no Key Crest was to be found. "It broke when I was hit. The Exsphere is embedded in my skin."

So. Yggdrasill had won out. Yggdrasill always won, didn't he. The Age of Lifeless Beings, and here was its primary participant.

Speechless.

"… I'm sorry, Yuan. I meant for them to tell you what I am to become, but I didn't want to disappoint you."

"No, no, I'm sorry, Botta. I was afraid. When you asked me, I didn't want to… show weakness. I see that didn't do much in the end. I should not have avoided you… So help me, Botta, I don't know if I can go on like this. Without you. It's…" Yuan cradled himself against Botta's unmoving form. He wasn't warm. Just a bundle of flesh and muscle and bone. "I didn't realize how much I… appreciated you."

"It's okay to say you love me, Yuan." He always knew to some degree. "We're not coming out of this the same."

"… You know I do… That's why it hurts so much," he said.

"But you're the only one who can do this."

Yuan sighed. "Because if I don't kill you, you'll become like Anna, and if I try to save you, I would be just as bad as Mithos himself…" In his mind, he could envision Botta nodding. Ever reticent, even in conscious.

"Promise to destroy the crystal before I turn into a monster?" Botta asked.

"… I do, Botta." Yuan blinked hard to try and shake the tears that were accumulating against his will. It had come to this, the last of all sacrifices he could make. Insult to injury, as always. Now maybe Kratos wasn't so evil to try and put Martel and Anna out of their miseries. "Nothing is going to be the same around the base."

"It's all right. Maybe I can receive Martel when she finds peace… You'll be fine. When you're ready to let me go, sir…"

Yuan kissed Botta's harshly closed lips, imagining he felt a muscle tug and try to kiss him back. All a fanciful dream. He pulled back just enough, and reached for the jagged little remnants of Exsphere. "I never will be." As gently as he could, though he knew Botta was feeling none of it, he wedged loose the bloodied pieces and ground them to dust.

He stared at the powder in his angelic hand. This, Botta's life. Oh, if he could, he would reshape it and place it back beneath the collarbone. But it was selfish and futile. No one should have to suffer monstrosity.

Yuan rose from his position at Botta's side. One last study of him; strong cheekbones, sad eyelids, could have been sleeping. He clutched the dust in his hand. Goodbye…

He walked silently back to the dimensional transfer bay. The nurses knew better than to follow. When he arrived at the Sylvarant base, he ordered for a glass vial—any old one for now. Later, he would have one made to fit a chain, and that chain would fit around his neck. So, he could carry everywhere a bit of life; Yuan decided that the sea had scattered the other part of Botta's Exsphere, anyway. Keep half of the ashes, spread the rest. He needed some semblance of him, at least right now. He'd given up a lot.

And Yggdrasill needed to die.

For now, after private and public funerals, Yuan only formulated. But soon, through Lloyd and Colette and Zelos, things would be rectified. Needed for that day to clear the emptiness.

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Thanks for reading! I really appreciate it. This story took me the longest time to finish, and it was one of my favorite adventures. Please take the time to review—it really makes my day. And you know you want to!

Trickssi

PS—Yes, I'm still alive, and yes, I'm working on excruXiation. So don't you change that channel just yet!