"Think you'll get along fine with Zei."

"Does he play for that team?"

"He plays for all teams," Wakka says with a sigh and a shake of his head. "Boy had a tough time growing up."

...the fuck is that non-sequitur. "Oh?"

"Not my story to tell. You'll meet 'im soon enough."

"I await our encounter with bated breath."

They walk a while longer in companionable silence, but after a few minutes they run into two men—or rather, one man and one boy, the younger one can't possibly be older than sixteen—in similar light armour that leaves the sides of their pecs and torso and parts of their arms exposed. They both look like they're taking a break from the walk, sitting in a shaded area and drinking water. When they spot Wakka and Tōkan they raise their hands in greeting, and Wakka calls, "Gatta! Luzzu! Good to see you."

    "Hello, Wakka," says the older one, climbing to his feet as the other two approach. "Who's your friend?"

"I'm Tōkan," he introduces himself, "recent immigrant from I have no idea where by way of Sin and its toxin."

    "Ah. It's... fortunate you survived your encounter," says the older one. "I'm Luzzu, and this is Gatta. We're the Crusaders stationed here in Besaid."

"Whatcha doin' out there?"

        Gatta stands up, too, and salutes. "We've been on patrol for fiends! They have been more active than normal today so we have been clearing them out of the roads."

"Ahhh, so that's why we didn't find any," nods Wakka.

"'Crusaders'?"

    Gatta's chin drops, but Luzzu nods. "Sin's toxin hit you harder than most people, I see. Gatta, do you want to explain?"

        "Yes, sir!" He turns to look at Tōkan specifically and begins: "The Crusaders are sworn to battle Sin! We have chapters throughout Spira, accepting all who wish to join our struggle! The hero Mi'ihen formed the Crusaders eight hundred years ago as the Crimson Blades; later, our ranks grew and we started calling ourselves the Crusaders. We've been fighting Sin ever since!"

"Sounds like you have your work cut out for you. I wouldn't have expected people to be able to make any headway on... that," says Tōkan.

    "The Crusaders' main job is to protect cities and towns from Sin and its Sinspawn with our lives if need be. Sin may be powerful, but it is not very smart, and it is possible to steer Sin away to buy settlements time to evacuate," says Luzzu, but he shakes his head. "And that's all we can do. Summoners are the only ones who stand a chance."

"Well, but no more of this depressin' talk. We're on our way back to the village. Wanna come with?"

    "We may as well," says Luzzu. "We were just taking a break between patrols, and were about to resume our trek back."

        "So you don't remember anything?" asks Gatta after they've been walking for a few minutes.

"Bits and pieces. I remember I was a blitzball player. I..." Pause. "I remember Zanarkand. It was destroyed by Sin, right? A thousand years ago?"

    Luzzu nods. "You would be best served asking questions at the temple, and perhaps praying to Yevon to regain your memories. But yes, Zanarkand was the first of the machina cities to be destroyed."

"Sin targets cities with... technology... in particular?"

"A thousand years ago," says Wakka in the tones of someone who has heard this told a million times, "people were growin' decadent. Lazy. Machina did all the work, and all everyone did was play all day and have no responsibilities. Sin was our reward..." He scrunches his hands up into fists. "But I don't get why we gotta be punished by what a buncha goofheads did a thousand years ago!"

Tōkan does not ask what the problem is with playing all day and leaving machines to do heavy work. Clearly it's meant to be self-evident somehow.

"Yevon teaches that once we atone for our sins, then we will be forever rid of Sin," he continues, shaking his head and regaining his calm. "So that's what we try, day in day out, to live better accordin' to Yevon's teachings so that one day we may be free."

Bullllllllshit.

"I see."

"The ruins are a reminder," Wakka continues, gesturing at one of them off to the side. "Of what we let ourselves do, when we had no checks on it. So we never forget."

Tōkan really has no idea how to engage with this whole... ideology. And it's, you know, not wrong that Zanarkand was a utopia where no one needed to work for a living and everyone could just do whatever they wanted, but...

Well. If he's honest with himself, he was personally deeply unhappy there, but he's not sure that's the same as it being bad. Other people weren't unhappy.

And he feels a sudden sharp stab of realisation that he'll never return. Either his Zanarkand was destroyed a thousand years ago, or his memories were made up by a neurotoxin, but in none of those cases will he... see his friends again. His team again. He's never going to stop at the bakery between his place and the beach again, never going to teach little Zanarkandite kids how to play blitzball again, never going to take Inochi or Yama or Hitomi or Sayu to dinner again. He'll never see his room and his boat again, never go back, go back home...

He stops, his legs almost giving out from under him as he staggers to a nearby tree to hold his weight. He's hyperventilating but he can't focus, can't think, can't pay attention to the voices of the other three trying to talk to him as the enormity of his loss hits him like, like, like over thirty thousand tonnes of water from a destroyed blitzball stadium. He doesn't notice when a fiend appears out of the woods and the other three have to protect him while he has a little moment.

Tōkan did not use to think of himself as a person who has moments. He'd rather not have moments, he'd rather not—there's no point, he should just keep going and not think about everyone he's lost, who's dead or never existed—

"Hey! Snap out of it!" Wakka says, shaking Tōkan by the shoulders.

He blinks, the ringing in his ears fading to nothingness as he looks back up and sees the characteristic evaporation of fiends happening over there where Luzzu and Gatta are watching for more enemies. He blinks more, looking at Wakka like he doesn't quite understand what's being said to him.

    Determining that there aren't any more fiends nearby, Luzzu turns around and walks over to Tōkan. "Are you feeling alright, friend?"

"Yeah," Tōkan hears himself say. "Yeah, I'm. I'm fine. I just." What did he just. "I think the toxin is still messing with my head," which he doesn't really but it's the explanation they'll accept.

"We're almost there, then we can get you a bed in the Crusaders' lodge."

    "Or maybe one of the priests could have something for him," says Luzzu. "They might have more experience with that."

Tōkan nods and tries to return more fully to his body. He does not need to think about how his whole life has been suddenly yanked out from under him right now. He can do that later. Or never, maybe never is better, it's not like he can do anything about it.

"I'm fine," he repeats, straightening up and clearing his throat. "I can walk."

    "You're sure?" asks Luzzu.

"Yeah. Sorry about that. Let's keep going."

They keep going. A few more fiends show up to stop them—apparently their prior scarcity had in fact been because of Gatta and Luzzu's efforts—but none of them are particularly troublesome. Tōkan stays out of the encounters as he's not really trained in combat and with his sword stuck inside his bag, no scabbard, and no clothes, he'd probably be more likely to accidentally castrate himself than actually contribute to the fights.

Eventually they get to the village, and the Crusaders excuse themselves to go to their barracks while Wakka slows down to show Tōkan around.