When I Was Invisible

a/n: Written circa December 2008.

Written for a friend. It totally has no plot at all, really, put it really does work for them, I think. Written partially to the song Invisible by D-Side (particularly the line in the summary and I am nothing without you, just a shadow passing through), and from the fact Ilyana does seem to slink in the shadows, given the skill she also has.

If Zihark had to be honest with himself, he hadn't really expected to join up with the Crimean army. Then again, he hadn't really expected to be drafted into the Daein one, either. Like a lot of things - it just seemed to have... happened.

When he'd found his way into the Crimean forces, he really didn't know what he was in for. He'd joined mid-fight, so that left the explaining to the commander of 'hello, I wasn't here last night and was originally fighting you this morning, but I had a change of heart and decided that I'd fight with you'. His fears over that had been unfounded - the commander, Ike, had merely shrugged it off and gruffly welcomed him. It seemed a common occurrence, at least, as Ike's little master tactician had dragged him away to go over army protocol. People must join up this way all the time.

A lot of things about the Crimean army were unexpected. He hadn't expected to find more laguz surrounding them - to find people he could get on with, to find people that were similar to him. Everyone was fighting for something, just like him, as well as protecting the Princess. He found almost everyday unexpected.

But, the thing that had to top his most unexpected list was falling head over heels for a member of the army.

He'd committed himself to never really loving again. But she was different. This girl was different. Everyone else seemed to pass her by - she had a way of slinking into the shadows. Disappearing and others not noticing her. She just stood there, like part of the background, always with a distant, wistful look on her face when he saw her. The few times he'd walked past her, and she'd actually been talking with another, the merchant Aimee, she was always ultimately polite.

She didn't speak to anyone else. She just seemed to slink away into the shadows when she was alone. And everyone didn't see her. She was invisible to them all.

Except Zihark. Zihark saw the lilac coloured hair girl perfectly. She was beyond intrigue. She was like a new light on his dulled horizon. He was like a ten-year-old boy with a crush, and he knew it in some distant part of his mind. He took it, unconsciously or not, upon himself to protect her - he watched her in battle, protected her, always watched in slight amazement and wonder as the fragile frame brought down doom upon her enemies with spells he couldn't even begin to memorize or fathom.

She may have noticed he was there. She might have not. Zihark came to the conclusion of the many days he spent fighting alongside, watching, and trying to protect Ilyana, that she probably didn't notice he was there. Because no one noticed she was there to begin with.

It was a bit of a surprise then, when one day she spoke to him.

Beneath those dormant, distant eyes, she seemed curious. Enthralled, perhaps, in an odd way, as she turned to face him and look up at him as they passed one another, as he exited the food hall and she entered it. Zihark hadn't expected this, either. All of a sudden she was looking at him like she'd only just seen him; like she'd seen him for the first time.

Her question to him came with a sense of uneasiness, perhaps. Unsure-ness. "Umm... what's... your name?"

Zihark had only gladly offered it to her. "Zihark," he'd said promptly, letting a slight smile flitter onto his face.

"Thank you... for protecting me on the battlefield, Zihark. I'll remember your name," Ilyana had replied, lightly smiling back at him before she'd continued on her way down to the kitchens.

Zihark had truly believed she would, but she never did. She mistook him for Ranulf, Ike, some random higher-achy priest in the senate at Begnion - sometimes she didn't have a name for him at all. Some people may have taken this entirely too personally, but Zihark wasn't one for that. He found it wasn't only him, either - he saw she mistook just about everyone. This made him stay soft and focused, as he only reminded her lightly of his name, in the slight hope that, maybe, she'd remember it one day.

Ilyana wasn't intentionally scatterbrained, though. She remembered a lot of things that were important - only names escaped her.

It was probably after having several conversations with her, that, one day whilst a battle came to a close and Zihark had taken his usual place as her ward, that he noticed she was moving less fluidly than usual. As the enemies ran into retreat and part of the army took chase, Zihark saw Ilyana slip to the ground - and consequently almost faint.

He'd almost been in a complete frenzy about it. He'd spend the best part of five minutes panicking, before Ilyana had come round and looked up at him, with a more distant expression than he'd ever really seen before. But beneath that, it was focused. It was like she'd suddenly found what she was looking for.

All she said to him was, as he supported her, was one small little world whilst pointing to his bag that held a lode of herbs. "Food."

Zihark remembered there was some form of snack in there, and was momentarily impressed she'd gathered it was there to begin with, before he offered it to her, everything he'd stashed away for him to snack on after the fight. It wasn't really much, but she wolfed it down within seconds anyway.

"Are you alright?" He said worriedly, hovering over her, still supporting her.

"Yes. Can you help me stand, umm..." she floundered for a name, the way she often did. "... Soren?"

Zihark closed his eyes as she said it, and let a smile on his face as she got the wrong name as always. "Zihark," he softly reminded her.

"Zihark," she repeated. Her eyes seemed to regain a bit of colour after that.

Out of being thrown into all unexpected circumstances, Zihark still find it momentarily surprising that he could still find things that were unexpected to him. Like the first time Zihark had treated Ilyana to food on his behalf - his treat, he'd called it - and found afterwards he had a fairly empty money-bag, an Ilyana who had probably eaten the equivalent of all the other people's meals in the pub, and was still hungry. He didn't know how many helpings she'd got through - but it was surprising to him, regardless. He hadn't expected the reason for her dormant nature to be from a constant want of hunger.

Ilyana in turn, though, seemed to trust him more. She asked him for food every now and again. She smiled. She spoke to him throughout battle. She saved him once or twice when he wasn't paying attention (usually, when he was busy trying to save Ilyana from something).

But the most unexpected thing was when one day, she seemed to drift out of the shadows when he was looking at her. She saw him watching, and the shadowy, invisible figure seemed to come into being. As she made her way across camp, some finally noticed her move, noticed her presence for a moment. Zihark merely watched as she walked over to him.

"Can.. we go get some food together?" Ilyana had asked, smiling very slightly, though she seemed to be hitting the point where her mind seemed to run on wanting to go and eat something. Zihark briefly wondered if she'd argued with herself to ask him, or not. But she seemed to have decided.

He was just about to answer, when Ilyana spoke again.

And that was the least expected thing of all.

"Zihark?"

His answering smile was the broadest smile he'd ever felt on his face. He felt like the sun had come sailing down and hit him with sudden warmth - like the world has stopped, and it didn't matter if everything disappeared right now. He'd surpassed the most unexpected things, all of them, to find the most unexpected of all - the feeling this brought with it.

He answered her promptly, as always. "Of course, Ilyana. I'd love to."

He'd done it. He'd gotten through to her. He'd seen her when she was invisible.

And she'd seen him, too.