Grazing The Sky

"I've accepted the fact that I am completely crazy," he announced.

"No-" Zidane stood up. "Lance, you're not crazy. Trust me, everything I've told you is real."

Lance laughed, releasing some of the hopelessness inside him. His head found the side of the door, hand resting on his stomach. He shook his head as he spoke.

"Really? There's no way. There's no way any of this is real..."

He heard Zidane give a small sound of frustration-like a groan from the back of his throat. Lance opened his eyes, staring at him again and feeling the smile on his face break into a grin.

"You're not real, either," he said. "I mean, like-" He motioned to the tail. "I dunno why I gave you a tail. Or why your name's so f.u.c.kin' weird, but-hey! Guess that's what makes me so insane." Lance laughed harder. "Hey! Your name makes sense now!"

Zidane let out a small breath. He looked away, dark eyes focusing somewhere off to the side.

"I don't..." he began. Both shoulders rose in a shrug and his stare turned back. His hand turned upwards, motioning. "I don't know what I can do to convince you any of this is real."

Lance flung both hands off to the side. "Hey, neither can I! Guess we're finally on the same page, huh?"

Zidane's head bowed, a large sigh coming from him. A moment later, he sat down, hand resting against his hair.

"This is a crapshoot," he said. His head lifted as both hands came to his eyes, fingers parting and running across the center of his forehead. Like a headache was coming on. "I can't believe I actually thought I could do this."

"Do what? Be a figment of my imagination? Pretty easily, probably."

This statement was met with a harsh glare. Lance stared back, feeling the anger like it was a line of energy aimed at his c.h.e.s.t. Could he actually feel that, if he was crazy? Would he be able to feel the emotion like it was from a real person?

He swallowed, looking down. His hands found the pockets of his jacket, the same one his mom had told him to wear. He shook the memory away, wondering if that too was made up. If any of this was actually real...

"Tell me something..." Lance began, shuffling a hand into his hair. "Tell me something I have no way of knowing. Something that proves I'm not crazy."

Zidane was alert again, searching around the table as if the answer would be there.

"Uh, let me think..." His finger was tapping against the wood rapidly. "My village, where I was born. A place called Lanquim, off the East River."

"Lanquim," Lance repeated, focusing hard before shaking his head. "That's just a word I could've made up. East River is normal..."

"I have a girlfriend. She's..." His hand found his eyes, covering them as his head bowed in concentration. "She's everything to me. I owe her absolutely everything..."

There was something about that... Something like an emotion was beginning to come forth, rising from somewhere far away.

"What's... What's her name?" He wasn't sure where the question was coming from.

"Zooka."

A bolt of pure, light energy erupted into the center of Lance's c.h.e.s.t.

He opened his eyes. Why did that name seem so familiar...?

"I..." He was at a loss for words. He blinked, searching the floor below him. Shifting his feet, trying to distract himself for a moment. That feeling was still lingering, like an arrow made of light had struck his heart.

"I..." He tried again; still couldn't speak. He couldn't explain the feeling. Couldn't explain anything. He shook his head once more, eyes shutting. "I can't explain that."

"Explain what?"

"Anything about that," Lance answered. "The name... The feeling..." He breathed, focusing on the inner light as it began to dim. "What was that?"

Zidane only stared at him, just as surprised. Over time, the blue in his eyes came back, lightening again.

"I don't know," he answered. "But it's something you can't explain."