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They lay there on the rocky, uncomfortable shore of the little pond for who knows how long, pressed right up against each other side by side, and don’t speak.
“We should go back,” Yuna says eventually, barely more than a whisper.
“I guess,” says Tida, and then heaves a sigh and sits up. “Someone’ll probably come looking for us, otherwise. I don’t really want my memory of this spoiled by Wakka, you know?”
Yuna laughs, quiet and joyful, and gets to her feet. “Yeah.”
Tida stands, shakes as much water out of her hair as she can, and turns to leave, when Yuna’s hand closes around her wrist. She makes an enquiring noise, and Yuna just smiles and tangles their fingers together.
“Oh,” says Tida. “You sure?”
“I’m not ashamed,” Yuna says, which isn’t the same thing at all, but Tida thinks maybe it’s better.
They huddle together under blankets back at camp, their damp clothes shed and drying by the fire, and Wakka keeps looking at them like they're some sort of puzzle. Over dinner, he says to Auron, "Hey, you okay with this, man?"
Auron gives him a long, long look, and then says, "I'm neither of their fathers, so what would it matter if I weren't?"
When everyone else is asleep and Auron wakes her for her turn at watch, Tida settles next to him on the ground and lets him lay an arm across her shoulders. "For what it's worth," he starts, and she laughs a little and elbows him in the side.
"Yeah," she says. "Thanks, old man."
"Ten years. You had to grow on me some time. Jecht did."
"Yeah. I'll make her happy. It's a promise."
"I've never doubted you."