"Seymour!"

Seymour groaned and batted in front of his face.

"Seymour!"

"Huh?" Seymour muttered, realizing the source of the noise was both non-swattable and rather persistent.

"What exactly are you doing?" the voice asked.

Seymour yawned and stretched before looking up at what was annoying him from sleep. It was Jyscal.

"Oh, it’s you."

"Yes. I’m me, clever. Now what exactly are you doing?"

"Until a minute ago, I was sleeping," Seymour said, standing up and hitting his head on a branch in the process. Seymour pretended it was intentional and brushed leaves and twigs off of his clothes.

"I meant, why?"

"Probably because I was tired," Seymour said, starting back towards the palace.

"Don’t play dumb with me."

"Or else what?"

"You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?"

"Not really."

"Seymour, where are your pants?"

"I thought I said ‘Go away.’"

"That was last night, and you said ‘Shut up.’"

"Well, I meant it."

"Firs of all, I am your father," Jyscal said. "Second of all, you were sleeping in the garden half-clothed. I think I have a right to know why."

"Since when did I need a reason to do anything?" Seymour asked.

"Since we were told to get along and as much as nature is part of life in Guadosalam, sleeping in it is not."

"Whoever said we were getting along?" Seymour asked. "We’re just not killing each other. Or rather, you’re not killing me."

"In the very least, it’s my garden and you’ve bee sleeping in it."

"If you must know, Yuna just made things more complicated about sleeping with her and the foliage didn’t."

Seymour kept walking. Jyscal stopped.

"Wait…" Jyscal muttered to himself.

* * * * *

"Uh, Yuna?" Seymour whispered, poking his head in the doorway, hoping she wasn’t there.

"There you are!" she yelled, surprisingly happy.

"Um…" he said, finding her clinging to him in a hug and constricting his lungs in the process. "…Okay…I mean… um… I can’t… breathe…"

"Oooo!" she yelped, letting go of him, seeing the pathetic flower in his hand as he flailed about.

"…I… well… I wanted to apologize for—"

"Don’t worry," she said.

"Um… too late. I mean—"

"No, I mean don’t worry. Anzi explained everything… well, a few things. Here, I’ll explain the rest later."

"Rest of what?"

"Don’t be silly," Yuna said.

"I’m not. I’m being confused."

"It’s a surprise."

"Yes, it certainly is."

"Don’t worry," Yuna said, opening the door. "Anzi packed your things."

"Why?"

"It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you," Yuna said, going through the door and looking for Anzi, leaving it wide open.

"I came here to get my pants."

"They’re in the laundry."

"But—"

"Anzi packed a bunch of your clothes."

"But—"

"Don’t worry!" she said. "Anzi!" And Yuna was gone.

"So… where are my pants?"

* * * * *

"Anzi?" Jyscal asked, opening door after door. For some reason he forgot this particular door lead to a bathroom. He closed it and tried another door, calling out the name of his maid.

He went through her bedroom, his own, the kitchen which still had a few holes in the ceiling, the ‘family room’ which had accumulate so much dust one couldn’t tell the color of the furniture by simply looking at it, the ‘nursery, which had had a bedroom collapse in on it, the living room, the study, three more bathrooms, and the basement.

Eventually, he got to the room Yuna and Seymour shared, not caring or realizing I to give such a thing any significance.

"Anzi, why is Seymour acting weir—" he managed when he found her—and Yuna—finally.

"You shoo!" she said, for once not angry with him.

"But why is—what—and—"

"Girl stuff. Now shoo," she chided and shooed him out of the doorway and closed the door on him.

"Seymour’s acting weird because of girl stuff? He asked himself and tried to think. "OH, GOOD YEVON!" he yelled, clutching at his hair when he finally came to a conclusion (the wrong one).

"What’s so horrible that you’re screaming at dead deities?" Seymour asked.

"Where did you come from?"

"I live here!"

"I—you—" Jyscal stammered at Seymour.

"Is there something you’re trying to tell me?" Seymour asked.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Jyscal yelled, and the door opened, a hairbrush hitting him in the head, and then the door slammed closed again.

"I was looking for this," Seymour said, bending down and retrieving his hairbrush from the floor. "Huh. Yuna's been using my brush."

"Ack!" Jyscal said.

"What’s your problem?"

"I knew Anzi was a bad influence on you, but I never expected this!"

"If this is about me borrowing a pair of your pants, Anzi and Yuna took all of mine and they seem to be playing a new form of blitzball with my things."

Jyscal wasn’t paying attention.

"I should have noticed! All the signs were there! First your obsessed with your mother, then you’re always so melodramatic, and then you can’t do a thing right when it come to... to... stuff you should know how to do and then with Yuna… If I had known I had to keep you I’d have done something about this! I’m such an idiot for not knowing!"

"…So… you’re fine bout the pants?"

"Oh my goodness! You became a priest! You’re disgusting!"

"What?" Seymour asked.

"It’s…It’s like you joined some sort of evil cult or something behind my back."

"That’s not—No, wait… Everyone else was… um, that’s not right either. They started… um, that sounds bad… I didn’t think it… Well, you were… It’s not my fault!"

"Not your fault, my ass—ewwww."

"What?"

There was a very long pause as Jyscal metaphorically scrubbed his mind clean. "…Why are you wearing my pants again?"

* * * * *

"Um… Anzi… we need to talk," Jyscal said, approaching her as she was making dinner.

"I thought we were burying the hatchet," she said.

"This is a completely different tool—subject I’m bringing up. It’s about Seymour. Why didn’t you tell me he was… like that?"

"Like what?"

"Well, he’s… different."

"He’s always been different."

"He’s always been like that?"

"Of course. That's why he became Maester, so people would accept him—"

"I don’t’ want to think about that!" Jyscal said, waving his arms to stop the conversation’s topic. "I wanna know what to do about it."

"Just ignore it, that’s what he wants."

"I can’t ignore it, it’s wrong!" Jyscal yelled, and then realized who he was talking to. "I mean… Not that I have any problem with you doing anything, it’s just… he’s my son."

"Oh, now you’re worried about him."

"Well, if I had known I’d have to keep him!" Jyscal exclaimed, only to earn a smack on the head by a spatula. "Did Yuna know about any of this?" he asked, rubbing his head. He’d either have to stop talking to Anzi in the kitchen, or get her softer utensils.

"Of course she knew when she married. It’s probably why they’re having problems in the bedroom."

"Well, one would THINK so."

"Well, Yuna’s handling most of it."

"Um… that’s good… I think." He didn’t want to know what she was handling most of.

"They’re going to be away for awhile, but they need permission," Anzi said.

"Going where? What in the heck’s wrong with Guadosalam?"

"She wants to go on a honeymoon, that’s all. She’s such a sweetie."

"Well, I guess a honeymoon should solve his problem."

"What do you know about his problem?"

"I don’t WANT to know about his problem."

"Well, they need your permission, or they’re stuck here and probably arguing again. I can take care of the arrangements, but I have to clear it with you, first."

"Fine, they have permission to do anything they want as long as I don’t’ hear about it."

"Then if you don’t need me for anything else tonight, they can be off to Bevelle sometime tomorrow morning."

"…Bevelle…?"

"It’s just a stop over. They’re going to get a boat and—"

"They are not going to Bevelle."

"But you said."

"I said they had my permission before I knew they were going to Bevelle. They have my permission to go anywhere but Bevelle now."

"Why? What’s in Bevelle?"

"…Nothing."

"Then why—"

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Ever. Well, since this doesn’t involve me, I’ll be leaving. Sand don’t tell Yuna about Bevelle, he said, turning and leaving.

"But you said there’s nothing there!"

"Exactly!"

"What just happened?" Anzi asked herself.

"Nothing!" Jyscal yelled from the door. "And tell Seymour not to wear my clothes!"

* * * * *

"Yuna, we need t talk," Seymour said, finally finding her. "You’ve been busy doing something all day, which is fine, but… its just about this whole. ‘surprise thing.’"

"Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you."

"Yuna, that’s kinda what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Don’t worry about anything," she said, cheerfully.

"No, you see, that’s what I’m worried about," he said. "You see every surprise in my life has in someway involved someone killing someone, usually me. I’m not the kind of person—"

"No one’s going t try to kill you," she said. "Come on, let’s go to bed, it’s late," she said, taking his arm and leading him to the bedroom.

"Um, does this ‘surprise' have anything to do with last night, because I’m still uncomfortable—I mean, I’m—"

"Oh, we’ll have plenty of time for that later, maybe even on the boat."

"Boat?" he asked. "What boat? And why are my things packed, am I leaving? You can’t kick me out… I don’t think."

"I’m going with you."

"Um… where? I don’t like surprise traveling, remember?"

"It’s just a vacation," Yuna said, opening the door to the room.

"You’re not helping," he said, not going in.

"I found the perfect place to go," she said, leading him into the room. "We’ll go somewhere everyone will leave you alone and no one’s going to bring up anything nasty from your past. I promise."

"Where’s that, the moon?"

"Beseid."

"I don’t follow your logic."

"I already told them to leave you alone, and you always said it was nice and quiet and nothing ever happened there."

"N, I said you were so small and isolated you wouldn’t know if the rest of the world were destroyed until a month later."

"Same thing, here. Here's your book, you relax, it’s a big day tomorrow."

"I don’t really have a choice in this, do I?" Seymour asked.

"No really," Yuna said. "But don’t worry."

"I’m worried you keep saying that."

* * * * *

"Seymour, stop being so stubborn!" Yuna complained as she lead him to the carriage as if he were a dog pulling the opposite way on a leach.

"I’m not, I’m being reluctant, there's a difference!"

"Seymour! We’re going on a honeymoon, what’s your problem!"

He sighed, realizing the carriage driver was suddenly laughing at him. "It’s not something I’m talking about with an audience. Fine."

"I don’t se why either of us is out here," Jyscal complained.

"Just be polite," Anzi said.

"Why?—Ow!" Jyscal suddenly realized Anzi had sharp elbows.

"Just tell them goodbye."

"Go away," Jyscal said, earning another elbow in the rib.

"Have fun, sweeties!"

"Don’t come back until he’s straightened out and I mean it," he said. "And don’t give me any details. And stay out of Bevelle!"

Anzi sighed. That was as good as she was going to get out of Jyscal. "Just go back in the palace," she said and went over to the carriage.

"Seymour, don’t fuck things up—No, Do f—Oh just make sure both of you have fun sweetie."

"Anzi!"

"Look, just do whatever Yuna tells you and quit whining. Now get in the damn thing!" Anzi said, shoving him. "And you shut up!" she yelled at the driver, who as laughing so hard, he was almost falling out of his seat.

"Bye Anzi," Yuna said, entering the carriage. Once she closed the door, they took off.

Seymour watched as Guadosalam sped away and tried to ignore the drivers’ laughing.

After a while of watching the landscape go by, he realized his arm was stuck. Turning around, he found it what it was stuck on Yuna.

"Um…" he said.

She didn’t let go.

He found she was clinging to him intentionally. "Do you want something?"

Her expression suddenly changed. She was no longer dreamily staring to his eyes, but suddenly disgruntle with what he’d just said.

"What’d I do? He asked.

"Nothing," Yuna said and sighed, still clinging to his arm. She leaned against him and stared out her own window.

Since when did romance become so much work?

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