It was hot. Oh God, it was hot. Rikku had grown up in the desert and yet she still couldn't stand how unbearable the weather had been lately. It was as if someone had put Spira on a plate and shoved it into an oven preset to 350 degrees, slow bake. She had tried everything to relieve herself from the heat. Today, her method of choice had been to unintentionally wander into the woods and get hopelessly lost while trying to find this pool Wakka had told her about. He had given her explicit directions as to where to find this pool and she had listened attentively, nodding every few seconds to assure him that yes, she was indeed paying attention. What little good that did her.

Rikku had never been a good listener. It was one of her weaknesses, really. No matter how hard she tried to concentrate on what someone was saying, somehow it always managed to get lost in her mind, traveling between the section that acquired the information and the section that processed it. Pops had once said that Rikku's mind was like a thunderstorm - thoughts came to her like bolts of lightning, appearing quickly in a bright blaze of light before disappearing back into the storm. Sometimes it wasn't that big of a deal, but other times, times like this, it was.

Once, years ago when the quest to defeat Sin was still fresh in their minds, Rikku had sat on a cliff top in Luca and stared out towards the ocean. Her mind was racing because that's how she was, that's how she always was. It was the only way she knew how to process thoughts. Even though they had been triumphant - they had defeated Sin and survived - she still hurt. Her whole being ached and she couldn't stop thinking about it, about the battle, about him. And she hated that fact because it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she had to suffer because of him.

She despised him for that, for hurting her. Sometimes it hurt so much that she couldn't breathe and it felt as if her heart might just explode if she kept going. It was those times that it was worst, and she would cry. She would cry for the hurt, for the innocence lost, but mostly she would cry for him because what else could she do? He was gone. Gone. Nothing could fix that. And that fact made her feel so incredibly helpless that it was almost unbearable at times. She had tried so hard to stop it, to stop him from disappearing, but had failed. She had failed him. So she would cry and scream, but she still felt empty inside. Four years after the fact and she still felt empty inside. It wasn't going away anytime soon and she knew that.

But maybe one day it would go away and she wouldn't have to hurt anymore. Maybe one day she could wake up and everything would be okay. She could dance and sing and play and not have to worry about him anymore because what's done is done, you can't change that. And even if it still hurt a little, even if she cried every now and then, it would be okay. She would be okay because she'd be able to face the day without being afraid. The hope that that day would one day come was what kept her going. Because even if she hurt right now, knowing that one day it would all be okay made it worth it to her.

It meant she could keep living.

A/N: I haven't written anything in a long time (as I'm sure you've noticed haha), just because I've kind of come to a dry spell. But I was sitting at my computer one morning and just started writing and this is what came out. I'm not actually sure if it's good, or even if it makes sense, but I'm never one to discourage myself when I actually write, so… Hope you guys liked it. At least somewhat.

I promise Line Between will be updated at some point. I promised myself that that's one fic I'm going to finish and I'm sticking to that. Summer vacation starts today, which means I'll probably have a lot more time to write from now on. Thank you so much for being patient. It means the world to me.