Shuyin is fleeing Zanarkand, but not where Lenne expects.
Shuyin sped through the back roads of Zanarkand, easily manuervering around any other cars. There weren't many this night, as many citizens either stayed home, fled, or were in the front lines. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as everything blurred past him, including stop lights. Shuyin would not have anything slow him down, especially since there wasn't any need to. Not now. Not when nearly all the traffic was gone, and not when the only thing that mattered was to do what needed to be done.
He helplessly smirked as he remembered how he would be stopped by traffic, and how he would scream expletives at the slow pokes in front of him. Like, say, those who found it necessary to apply make-up, to stuff their faces, run their mouths at passengers and into carrier phones, all while driving. Shuyin even remembered spotting people masturbating. Basically, it seemed like everyone around him would do everything but JUST FUCKING DRIVE. However, having few other cars around was an advantage that he ignored as none of those actions warrented the death penalty. They were just stupid acts. Kind of like the acts of those who called themselves leaders, only those actions deserved the death penalty, and Shuyin would have been more than happy to perform the executions himself.
As soon as he thought of them, he banged his fist on the steering wheel. These leaders would bring about the death of his one true love, and who knows how many other true loves? And for what? Money? Power? Yes, of course. Most wars were fought for that those reasons alone. This one was no different. From what he understood, it was some sort of trade dispute that caused this whole mess. He knew it had to be more than that though since such problems between Bevelle and Zanarkand were usually peaceful, especially since the young Praetor of Bevelle was supposedly a "very nice man".
/Guess he's not so nice, after all/. Shuyin thought as he turned a corner. He tried to rack his brain to remember what the Praetor looked like, but he gave up in two seconds as he could think of was his fellow countrymen and Lenne, who would all die one way or the other. It was only a matter of time, and Shuyin knew it. That thought caused him to accelerate aggressively. The sooner he got to Bevelle, the better.
"So, what the hell is that weapon?" Shuyin muttered. "It can't be complete or they would have used it already. Or maybe not, since we're being slaughtered. Tell me it's something I can use against Bevelle alone." Almost absentmindedly, he put his gloved fingers on the radio knob, but he pulled away almost immedietly, and put both hands on the wheel. Shuyin remembered that the war had caused the stations to play nothing more than 'throw yourself off a goddamned cliff' love songs, which was the last thing he needed. Of course, if it wasn't that, it was protest music. That, he understood, especially the anger music, but knew damned well that such songs would have done little to stop the war and it's not like the people of Bevelle would be listening anyway as they rolled their machinas over anything that stood in their way. All that remained were the talk shows and the news stations filled with so much inane chatter that it would have made Shuyin tempted to crash his car into the nearest building.
He didn't have to worry though as he noticed that he was now in the outskirts of Zanarkand, far enough from actual fights to not be noticed, but near enough to have an idea of what was going on. Shuyin noticed a flash of red light rise to the sky, and he gasped, knowing it was Iffrit, Aeon of fire. He wondered if that might have been Lenne summoning it, and what the Aeon was up against. Just thinking about that made him tempted to drive over there and drag Lenne kicking and screaming from the front lines, but he knew he couldn't do that. Not when he could save everyone, especially Lenne, once he found a way to turn Bevelle's prized weapon against its creators.
/But, innocent people will die because of me/. Shuyin thought as the peak of Gagazet became visible on the horizon. He sighed, imagining countless Bevellian citizens lying dead while just trying to live their lives in the midst of war, much like the people of Zanarkand. The only difference would be that those in Bevelle would no doubt be in a festive mood, while those in Zanarkand huddled in their homes or on the battlefield awaiting the grevious loss that was sure to come. It was that thought, the thought that people in Bevelle will be celebrating, that hardened Shuyin's heart.
He leaned back against the driver's seat, and gripped the steering wheel tightly, /It's the side who wins that makes the rules. It's the side who wins that determine who the bad guys are. It's the side who wins that determines what is just. I will do it all/.
"If I must choose between Bevelle and Zanarkand, you can bet I'm going with Zanarkand," Shuyin growled, as he drove carefully, yet swiftly towards the path that led to the Gagazet Cave. "Our victory will result in much more justice, because Lenne would be alive, and my people would be safe."
When the road had become too steep, he pulled over at a small Agency rest station filled with people who were evacuating. As he got out of the car to strap his sword to his back, Shuyin noticed the looks of despair in their eyes. They couldn't get past the harsh lands of Gagazet, which pretty much meant that there was no escape. All they could do was huddle in the rest area and hope that they would never get caught in the crossfire. He put on his cloak, shoving his car keys in a pocket, trying to imagine what it must be like to be so powerless that you can't even save yourself.
"It must be worse than death," Shuyin thought, sighing. "But, at least I can do something..." His brown eyes scanned the mountain ahead. "I can do this. I have the strength." He looked back over to the rest area. "But, first thing's first." He walked over to the station, trying not to look into the eyes of those who would never be able to leave Zanarkand.
Once he got a small, simple room, he threw his keys on the nightstand and put everything else on a chair and table. Shuyin fell on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He thought of Lenne, of course, and wondered what she was doing. She should be singing to crowds, but since the war began, that wasn't an option anymore. Was she thinking of him? She had to have been, Shuyin knew that, but it didn't do much to comfort him. He didn't want either of them to just think of each other. He wanted to be together, and realized that no matter what he did, he would never see her again.
Shuyin shut his eyes, seeing her, her long, raven colored hair flowing around her as she spun around on the top floor of his apartment building. The light of the moon shined for her and on her, accentuating her lithe form. To him, she was the most beautiful creature on all of Spira. But, now? She would be on the ground, her colorful Summoner's clothes torn, blood splattered all over her as her sightless brown eyes stared at absolutely nothing. No guarantee that her last thoughts would be of him. Even if they were, so what? Her light would still be extinguished, while those who declared this war would still live.
That thought, along with a feeling of warmth next to him jerked him awake, "Lenne?" He sat up, feeling the other side of the bed, only to find that it was a cold, empty area. "Lenne..." Again Shuyin shut his piercing dark eyes, feeling tears burning in them once again. He began to imagine long years without her, knowing full well that everytime he was asleep, he would feel her next to him, and she would not be there. A tear slid down his cheek.
"I don't deserve this," he whispered in the darkness. "No one deserves this. Damn it..." He breathed deeply, feeling himself tense. "This should have never happened, and yet people find this necessary. Damn everything..." He shook his head. "It's not like I can't live without her. I just don't want to, and I simply won't do it." He sat up for many moments, calming himself down, and once he did so, he slept a dreamless sleep.