The early autumn chill nipped at Rinoa’s knees as she stepped off the bus after Quistis, and she pulled her fuzzy blue sweater tighter around herself. Nothing, not even perfectly predictable seasonal temperatures, was going to ruin this night.
It was Quistis’ birthday, and Rinoa had surprised her with a weekend in Deling City, hoping to show her the kind of life she wished she’d had as a teenager.
“No fancy dinners, no ballroom dancing,” she told Quistis during the trip from Balamb. “Only fun eats and hip clubs! We’re gonna have a great time!”
Easier said than done, Rinoa discovered, as she found many of the cool locales she’d heard about while locked away in Caraway’s mansion had either closed completely or changed their focus. The international finger foods place was now a family-style restaurant, complete with checkered tablecloths, fake flowers, and oversized laminated menus; the hip sandwich shop was now an upscale gourmet eatery; the record store where her mother had signed autographs and met with fans was boarded up; and the club with black lights and patrons covered in neon body paint was now a ballet studio.
When did Deling City get so boring?
"I honestly don't mind a fancy dinner," Quistis said, fanning the exhaust fumes from her face as the bus pulled away, "or even some takeout. Just spending my birthday with you is enough."
"Oh, you are just the sweetest!" Rinoa wrapped both arms around one of Quistis' and kissed her on the cheek. "But I wanted to give you something extra special, a birthday you'll remember years from now. I wanted to give us both a chance to cut loose and not care, and that's what we're going to do!"
"Here?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"This place has got less of a party feel, and more of a…manufacturing one."
Rinoa looked around and sighed. Quistis was right. The bus had dropped them off in what appeared to be the heart of Deling City's industrial district, the sidewalks lined with chain-link fences and safety signs, the warehouses and factories behind them silent for the weekend. "Well, Indigo Fable can't be far from here. That guy on the bus said so."
"The one who was cuddling with his girlfriend? He probably just wanted to get rid of us."
"Then he would've told us to get off a few stops earlier." Rinoa looked down the street in both equally dark directions, then turned toward the searchlights of the city center. That way, even if she was wrong, they would eventually end up in familiar territory. "Come on, it's around here, I'm sure of it! It's probably still too new to have a lot of signage. It only opened last month. But I've heard the food is delicious, and the dancefloor doesn't cool down 'til sunrise. I don't know why I wasted time looking for places in the city center; Indigo Fable should've been at the top of my list!"
She continued rambling, trying to convince both Quistis and herself that the night hadn't been wasted, and that they weren't, in fact, lost.
After half an hour of walking, they'd traded the fences and warehouses for small homes and old apartment buildings and uneven sidewalks with impressive inroads of grass and weeds. A passel of children ran down the street, shrieking and laughing and startling both of them, and a group of young men loitered outside an apartment complex and chatted around their cars, pausing long enough to offer unsolicited assessments of Rinoa and Quistis from across the street.
"Jerks," Rinoa muttered. She took a deep breath and had half-formed an obscene gesture with her hand, when Quistis draped an arm around her shoulders and turned her forward again.
"Keep walking," she said out the corner of her mouth. "They're not worth our trouble."
"Didn't you hear what they said? They wanted 'a piece!' The only piece of us they deserve is a piece of my mind!" She scowled over her shoulder at the men, who had already gone back to their conversation.
"I didn't pay attention. There's a certain tone of voice I've learned to tune out."
"Tune out?" Rinoa looked at Quistis and frowned. "You're familiar with this kind of stuff, aren't you?"
"Unfortunately, yes. The best response, I've found, is no response at all. Anything else will just encourage them." She squeezed Rinoa's shoulder. "Come on, let's go find that club!"
A few more minutes of walking brought them to a busy street lined with shops and restaurants, none of them Indigo Fable. Rinoa's shoulders drooped, and she gave a drawn-out groan. "Fine," she said, "I admit it! I have no idea where we are, and I have no idea which clubs are cool, or how to even get into one when we find it! I'm just winging it because my original plans fell through, and now I've ruined the night. I've ruined your birthday, Quisty!"
"Not at all!" Quistis grabbed Rinoa's hand and stroked her knuckles. "Like I said, I just like being with you, away from work and deadlines and all the interruptions of Garden. You don't have to try so hard to impress me. You already do, with your smile, your personality, your strength…"
"I just wanted tonight to be extra-special."
"I know. But look at it from my perspective. I'm all dressed up, I've spent the evening hopping on and off of buses with an adorable woman at my side, and I still have tonight and all of tomorrow to enjoy having her all to myself. I'd say that's quite special."
Rinoa grinned. "Oh, Quisty, you have a right to demand so much more." She ran her hand up and down Quistis' arm and let her eyes wander along a similar path. Even dressed for a fun night out, Quistis managed to look elegant. She wore a long-sleeved wine-colored dress that fell to her knees, cinched at the waist with a wide silver belt, and a matching choker with a silver flower charm. A pair of brown boots rose up to nearly meet the hem of her dress. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail with thin tendrils framing her face, and—at Rinoa's insistence—a dusting of glitter sparkled across her cheekbones. Rinoa glanced down at her own outfit—a fuzzy blue sweater over a black tank top, a metallic blue skirt and matching chunky sneakers, and white knee-high socks—and felt incredibly childish all of a sudden, like a little girl trying too hard to impress the person she loved.
"All right," Quistis said, drawing herself up into an authoritative pose, "I demand that you quit stressing about this. We'll find a place to eat, then check out this neighborhood, and, if we don't find anything fun to do here, we'll head back to the city center and catch a movie or something. Does that sound okay to you?"
"Absolutely!"
They settled on a small sandwich shop and sat at a table outside, among students and families and the steady buzz of a city on a Saturday night, and chatted and laughed about nothing in particular. Quistis was right, Rinoa realized; just being together, away from the stress and demands of Garden, was refreshing and liberating. But this was a birthday trip, she reminded herself as she rose to throw away the sandwich wrappers and drink cups, and birthday trips required at least something out of the ordinary. With a quick glance over her shoulder, Rinoa slipped inside the sandwich shop and asked the man at the counter if she and Quistis had ended up anywhere near Indigo Fable. His expression made her stomach drop.
"You are way off," he said, wiping down the counter. "It's a few miles east of here, past the warehouses."
So, she had picked the wrong direction, after all. She thanked him with a sad smile and turned to leave.
"There's a place near here, though," he offered, "that's really popular on weekends. The Electric Wendigo, a couple blocks down. Take a left on Wilburn. You can't miss it."
Rinoa brightened. "That sounds great! Thank you."
The man nodded and wished her good night.
"The Electric Wendigo." Quistis said the name slowly, considering every syllable, as she and Rinoa walked away from the sandwich shop. "What kind of club is it?"
“I don’t know," Rinoa answered breezily, peering at the street sign on the corner, "I didn’t ask. Oh come on, Quisty, be adventurous! We’ll pop in for a bit, and if either of us doesn't like the atmosphere, we'll leave.”
"Fair enough."
"All right, Wilburn should be the next street up. Get ready to have some fun!"
If Quistis' choked-back laugh was any indication, she'd begun having fun the moment they turned the corner and were confronted by large neon Wendigo on roller skates, awkwardly animated to appear as if it were skating, rising above a flashing sign boasting the establishment's name. Rinoa blinked in the offensive glow, her jaw dropping.
“A roller disco?” she screeched. “This isn’t a club!”
“Its signage is audacious enough to suggest so." Quistis turned to her, brow furrowed. "If this isn't a club, what is it?"
“What do you mean? It's a roller disco. You know, a place where you skate to music, and…wait a minute. You’ve never seen one?”
Quistis gave her an exasperated look.
“Oh, of course not. But you do know how to skate, right?”
“No. Skating wasn't exactly high on Garden's list of necessary skills." Despite her terse response, Quistis eyed the roller rink with curiosity, tilting her head at the ridiculous sign and watching a group of teenagers stream out the doors, laughing.
"Well then," Rinoa said, a smile creeping across her face, "maybe it's time you learned." She grasped Quistis' wrist and pulled her toward the rink before she could protest. "After all, what better time to learn something new than on your birthday?"
Quistis stumbled across the street but dug in her heels just outside the door. "I'm not sure about this. I mean, we aren't properly dressed, for one thing. And where are we going to get skates?"
"We can rent some inside."
Quistis curled her lip.
"Yeah, they're kinda gross, but it's the only option on short notice. C'mon, Quisty, seize the moment! I'll help you learn how to skate; let that be my present to you."
"In that case, I suppose it would be rude to decline." Quistis chuckled. "It is embarrassing, though. A grown woman not knowing how to skate…where did you learn how?"
"I'm sure you noticed the size of the hallways in Caraway's house. And the courtyard is spacious, too. Plenty of places to get my bearings, and once I did, oh, did the staff get mad at me, zipping through the hallways unannounced!" She laughed. "I'm surprised Caraway never took the skates away from me."
"I'm surprised to hear he got you skates in the first place."
"Oh, he wasn't against fun. Just fun outside the house." Rinoa's smile faded. All the time she lived with her father, she thought she'd had it much worse than other children. But at least she'd been allowed to be a child. Quistis never even learned how to roller skate; what other childish joys were denied her, and the others at Garden? Since travelling with SeeD, Rinoa's perspective on the world had broadened and shifted to include opinions and observations she'd never considered from Deling City or even Timber, most of them complicated, many of them contradictory.
Perhaps it was time for her to reassess her perspective on her own home, as well.
But not tonight. Tonight was about Quistis, and she wasn't going to let such thoughts ruin what was left of their evening. She shook them away and smiled even brighter. "What are we waiting for, then? Let's go have fun!"
The smell of greasy food from the snack bar hit Rinoa the moment she walked in, and the bass of the pop music blaring from the speakers thumped in her chest. Colored lights blinked and swept across the rink, accented by sparkles from the mirror ball overhead. She looked back and saw Quistis taking in her surroundings with wide eyes, a smile tugging at her lips, her head bobbing slightly to the beat of the music.
Rinoa grinned, but said nothing, instead leading the way to the skate rental counter. They laced up their skates and hobbled to the edge of the rink, Rinoa's hands on Quistis' elbow.
"I feel ridiculous," Quistis said, following Rinoa onto the wooden floor and flailing her free arm for balance.
"Relax. No one here's watching you. Everyone's just having their own fun. Now, come on, grab onto the wall, and take a step, then another."
Quistis did as she was told, her brow relaxing as she grew accustomed to the sensation of rolling rather than walking, her posture straightening as she gained confidence in her balance.
"That's it," Rinoa shouted over the music. "Now, let go!"
"Let go?" The furrow and slouch returned, and Quistis' grip on the wall only tightened. Rinoa sighed.
"So, you'll rush into battles and travel centuries into the future, but you won't let go of a wall?"
"I'm not ready."
"And were you ready to fight Ultimecia? Were you ready to save the world?"
"That's different."
"Of course it's different. That was work; this is fun, and you should always be ready for fun." Rinoa reached across Quistis' body, breathing in the subtle scent of her perfume, and pried her fingers off the wall, one by one. "I know you can do this. Trust me. Trust yourself."
Nodding, Quistis grasped Rinoa's hand, squeezing her fingers, and took a tentative step. As before, she relaxed into the motion and rhythm of skating, and before long, she was laughing out loud and singing along to the music. Rinoa joined in, and they made slow, careful rounds of the rink, hand in hand, the other skaters fading into the darkness behind the colored lights, fading to the edges of the world they'd created for themselves.
Even when they did take a spill or two, they got up smiling, the sting of hitting the floor softened by the euphoria of being so close together, of gliding in tandem, the worries of the outside world sliding off the wheels of their skates until their reality consisted only of the thumping beat in their chests, and the heat of their palms pressed together.
As the night wore on, the skaters around them changed, and the music became more intense. Legs burning, they continued skating, moving faster now that Quistis was accustomed to her skates, getting caught up in the rhythm and pushing themselves to keep up with it, until their feet tangled in one another's and they collapsed in a heap near the wall.
"Oh no, I'm so sorry!" Rinoa cried, rubbing her backside. "Quisty, are you all ri—"
Her question died in her throat when she looked at Quistis, face sparkling from glitter and sweat alike, cheeks flushed, lips bright and stretched into a genuine smile. She was laughing and nodding and making no attempt to extricate her legs from beneath Rinoa's. Instead, she leaned forward, pulled Rinoa close, and kissed her, right there on the rink.
"I'm more than all right," she said. "I'm having fun! I can't remember the last time I just let loose and enjoyed myself like this. Thank you, Rinoa. What a wonderful gift." Giggling, she moved in again, and Rinoa responded, and the two of them pressed light kisses all over each other's faces, not caring who might be watching, or what they might think.
Slowly, they helped each other to their feet and caught their breath, and made several more rounds of the rink before staggering out to a bench to remove their skates.
"I never knew places like this existed," Quistis said, pulling off a skate. "And that seems a shame."
"It is a shame." Rinoa set both her skates beside her on the bench and rubbed her feet on the carpet. "I thought they'd all gone out of business years ago. Eight-year-old me would've practically wanted to live here!"
"I can see why. It's bright, fun, energetic." Quistis stretched and sighed. "I wish I could say the same about myself. Now that I'm out of the rink, I'm quite tired."
Rinoa yawned. "Same here. I think we're gonna sleep great tonight. Wanna hit up the snack bar on the way out?"
"Definitely."
They returned their skates and split a bag of cotton candy on the way to the bus stop. Once on board, they settled in for the ride back to the hotel. The motion of the bus, combined with the warm lights inside of it and the quiet conversation of other riders, made Rinoa very drowsy. She leaned against Quistis' shoulder and stared out the window, and forced herself not to look away when the bus passed Caraway's mansion. Instead, she looked closer, specifically at the window to her old room. She didn't know what she expected to find. A light still on inside? A sign begging her to come home? The broad-shouldered silhouette of the man who raised her with what she'd thought was an iron fist, until she met others who had been raised beneath an iron thumb?
Regardless, she saw nothing, and as the bus rumbled toward the city center, she turned her head and nuzzled into Quistis' arm.
"Are you okay?" Quistis asked.
"Mm-hmm. Just tired." Rinoa closed her eyes and let the memories of the evening erase those of her childhood home. She smiled at the sight of Quistis giggling, wobbling on skates; at the feel of their fingers laced together, their bodies gliding forward with ease; at the tickle of kisses all over her face, while the colored lights swept over them and the music rumbled in her chest.
She draped an arm over Quistis and snuggled closer. "Happy birthday, Quisty."
Quistis' words were lost to her as she relaxed beneath Quistis' hand stroking her hair, and drifted off to the strains of pop music playing through her mind.