Author's Note: Oh, um, hi! It's been nearly ten years since I posted a good ol' Yuna x Tidus fanfic, so you'll have to excuse me if I've forgotten how to do it. For the last five years or so I have been actively pursuing traditional publishing for my writing and last week I hit a major road block which not only devastated me but stripped me of all enjoyment in writing, and I thought, maybe it's time to go back to writing something I truly enjoy writing, for no purpose other than my own fun, which led me back here to Final Fantasy X-2 fanfic. I also recently saw that it was the game's 18-year anniversary which led me to some nostalgia, and well, all of that mixed together and VOILA, we have what I'm about to share with you as soon as I'm done rambling in this author's note.

Let me take you back to 2007 and 2008 for a second. I was a senior in high school/freshman in college when I wrote Number Thirty-Seven and Number Thirty-Seven: Without the 'A' (which, can we just agree was a DISASTER?). I used these fanfics to deal with something personal I was going through in my life, which was some unrequited love I had for a guy who barely knew me (funny enough we sorta kinda got to know each other in 2009 and 2010). Anyway, you know when a song comes on that reminds you of a specific era in your life? Well, I have A LOT of those from this time period and I happened to hear one of those songs recently and BOOM, an idea for this fanfic formed.

Normally I'd ignore it or think of a way to make it into original fiction (like I said, my efforts have been on original fiction for over five years now). But because I was feeling lousy about my writing, I thought, you know what, let's just do it. Let's write this PART THREE to Number Thirty-Seven and the hope was that it would help me get over my writing funk.

And here we are. Number Thirty-Seven: Retirement takes place 10-11 years after the events of Number Thirty-Seven and Number Thirty-Seven: Without the 'A.' However, because both of those fics are seriously cringe-worthy (like, SERIOUSLY), I highly recommend you do not go back and re-read them. Instead, I tried to add in enough details to give you a sense of what you missed in the previous two installments. But in all seriousness, you do not need to have read those stories beforehand, or remember them if you did read them (a million years ago). Again, it is my recommendation that you do not read them. I really do not think they aged well at all.

To give you the quickest summary, though, here's essentially what happened in Number Thirty-Seven and Number Thirty-Seven: Without the 'A': Yuna and Tidus are college students in Bevelle. Tidus is an up-and-coming blitzball player touted to be a future superstar. Yuna wins his jersey in a raffle and there's an immediate attraction. Despite her best efforts to avoid him, she's drawn to him – even though he's honestly kind of a jerk. There's all this ridiculous drama where Tidus is engaged to Dona in an arranged marriage situation (which I do reference plenty in this fic, ha). They end up boyfriend-girlfriend. However, when Tidus chooses to stay in college for an extra year in lieu of leaving Bevelle for Zanarkand and turning pro early, the pressure starts to get to him and he begins having issues with all of his relationships, including with his teammates (or I think that's what I was going for; seriously, he's kind of just a jerk). Tidus ends up spending time with members of the women's blitzball team, including Lenne who's really into him (also important for this fic). Yuna ends up breaking up with him, but she's a mess over it because she still loves him. When he ends up leaving Bevelle for Zanarkand, they have a brief reunion and Tidus leaves the door open for her to come visit him in Zanarkand.

Honestly, I have no idea if anyone will even read this or if people still read FFX-2 fanfic, but if you're here, I'd love it if you dropped me a review even if it's just to say hi. And, well, if no one sees this, so be it—I had fun writing it, and that's what matters!

And now, without further ado, I bring you Number Thirty-Seven: Retirement. I hope you enjoy!

CHAPTER ONE

Home

Yuna hasn't even walked inside her childhood home yet and she's already overwhelmed. She blinks up at the massive brick colonial looming in front of her and drops the handle of her suitcase, her chest tight. It'd been over three years since she was last here; anytime she was summoned to Bevelle, whether for work or to play the role of dutiful daughter, she always stayed at a hotel downtown. This house had once felt like a trap to her, back when her dad refused to pay for her to stay at one of the dorms at St. Maechen's, leaving her to choose staying in her childhood bedroom instead of racking up student loans.

Her nostril wrinkles. If she could go back, she would have gladly taken on the loans if it meant she got a little bit of independence. Not that it mattered—once she graduated from college, she headed to Zanarkand against her dad's wishes for law school—a mistake in its own right—and then upon graduating she landed a job as a government attorney in Luca. Luca hadn't been her first choice, necessarily, but she loved being on the sea and there was a refreshing mixture of tradition and contemporary, old and modern.

Plus, it wasn't Bevelle or Zanarkand.

It was a long flight from Luca and the airship was cramped. Her boyfriend had urged her to fly first-class, as had her father, but she liked flying economy, normally. Even though she landed over an hour ago, after the drive from the airport to the hillside she called home for so many years of her life, she could use a walk to stretch her legs.

So, she leaves her suitcase sitting on the brick patio and heads down the driveway and onto the sidewalk, her heels clicking loudly on the concrete. High-heels hadn't been the wisest travel shoe choice, but she hadn't wanted to pack too many pairs of shoes in her suitcase. She had to save room in case she decided to bring any of her treasures from her childhood home back to Luca with her.

She taps a manicured finger against the aluminum of the "FOR SALE" sign outside her house and grins at the smiling picture of her cousin, Rikku, all teeth and heavy makeup on the sign's picture. Although Rikku typically styles her hair in elaborate braids, in her professional picture she wears it blown-out, her usual clothes replaced with a fresh gray suit Yuna had given her. It had taken a lot of convincing to get her dad to agree to have Rikku serve as his real estate agent, but he'd finally relented. Yuna's eardrums were still ringing from when Rikku squealed when she told her the news. A commission from selling Lord Braska's house was going to be massive, after all, and give Rikku's growing business the boost it needed.

The neighborhood hasn't changed much, Yuna notices as she walks along down the hill. Her dad had always been nervous that being so close to the University of Bevelle was going to bring too many college kids to the area, the massive houses getting turned into rental properties and frat houses, but instead it became home to distinguished professors. In fact, there was only ever one rental house that Yuna knew of and she's standing in front of it now.

Or, well, she assumes she's standing in front of it. A large construction fence surrounds the property and when she creeps her head around the side to look in, she notices the pool's been filled and the massive windows that once overlooked the pool have been destroyed. Looks like they're adding onto the house, stretching it into the yard where the pool once was. She blinks, trying to forget the nights she stayed there, the mornings she'd dip her feet into the pool.

For a while, she was happy her dad had kept her at home. If he hadn't, she might not have kept running into him.

With that thought, Yuna heads back to her dad's house, walking quickly past the for sale sign and up to the house. It takes her a while to dig the key out of her purse and when she opens the door, she's immediately assaulted with the smell she always associated with home, a hint of vanilla from the candles her dad's maid staff always has lit and cleaning supplies. She used to joke she could murder someone in here and the cleaners would have the place bleached so quickly no one would ever know.

Now she finds the whole thing awfully sterile. The furnishings haven't changed at all, her dad's massive armchair in front of a sphere that's at least ten years old, bookshelves covering the walls and condensed with thick law books. The only nice thing about her dad's extensive library was she never had to buy any law books during school. She'd never understand her dad's obsession with paper and print when he had his laptop.

She rolls her suitcase into her bedroom, flicking on the light. A breath gets caught in her chest. It's like a flashback to college—some silly boy band poster taped on the wall from a concert she'd gone to with Rikku her senior year of college, all of her undergrad books stuffed on the bookshelves, a collection of romance books in a box from when she'd get sick of the stuffy literature she had to read for class. Her old sphere propped in the corner causes her mouth to go dry; she used to use it to watch blitzball games while she studied.

Her boyfriend had told her she should come back, spend a week or so here, figure out what to keep, what to get rid of. She'd fought him on it until her dad called and told her he was going to throw it all out if she didn't come sort through what she'd want to keep. The thought made her nervous—what if there was some trinket she'd forgotten that had some kind of sentimental value? Like long-forgotten comfort stuffed animals or jewelry left behind by her mother? Yuna reaches for the pendant around her neck, now, a gift from her dad when she graduated law school, a small diamond that had once belonged to her mother. She couldn't risk letting her dad get rid of her stuff without at least looking at it, sorting through it, seeing what was here.

But now that she's standing in here, it all looks like a bunch of garbage. Even the notebooks she used to write stories in during high school can go straight in the trash. None of it's salvageable.

Still, Yuna walks over to her closet and opens it, smiling as she sees outfits she'd once loved, the clothes hideously out of style now. She flips through a cringe-y pair of low-rise jeans, quarter-sleeve v-neck t-shirts, long skirts, and then she freezes.

Hanging on the very end of the closet with dust on the sleeves is a jersey.

Hands shaking, she pulls it off the rack, surprised as she always was by its lightweight material. A few threads on the embroidered team emblem have started to come undone but otherwise the jersey is in perfect shape. She smiles at a light blood stain that had been there since she first got the jersey, which at the time had thrilled her knowing she had something so personal of his. With her heart in her throat, she turns it around.

The number thirty-seven is such a bright royal blue it shines in the light above her and she traces his autograph before she can stop herself, like she had so many times before. It's not just blood in this jersey—she spots a hint of mascara at the collar from when she'd cried and held the jersey to her chest, her tears dripping into the material. She pulls the jersey to her face now but it comes back musty, not like the hint of cologne and sweat she used to swear she could smell.

Yuna blinks, surprised by the tears that form in her eyes, the devastation that it doesn't still smell like him.

Of course it doesn't—it's been ten years. Then, she throws the jersey into the box with her romance novels.

Aka the garbage pile.

#

"Why did I agree to let you drag me here?"

I was wondering the same thing. Tidus closes his eyes and shakes away the thought. Sure, he hadn't expected Gippal to show up wearing paint-covered jeans and a white beater tank, complete with his utility belt, which had Tidus met him in the parking lot he would have asked him to remove. He had assumed when he told Gippal to meet him at the nicest jewelry store in town that he'd have the fore thought to wear something nice.

Tidus leans against one of the cases, his Rolex clicking against the glass and peers in. He should have done what the rest of the guys on his team would have done, had a custom made ring. But he already did that once, and a lot of good that did him. He blew an entire signing bonus on that thing. No way he'd make that mistake twice.

"Dude, just pick one and let's go," Gippal says with a yawn. "I don't have all night."

"And remind me again what's so pressing?" Tidus asks, as he looks up from the rings in hopes of finding a salesman to help him. He'll just ask for the most expensive ring and call it good. In and out. Easy peasy.

"I have class tonight, remember?" Like Tidus, Gippal left college before getting his degree, choosing a potential pro blitzball career in lieu of graduating. Unlike Tidus, though, Gippal left mere semesters short of being done. And, also unlike Tidus, Gippal never made it to the show, playing three seasons in the minor leagues before calling it quits. Now Gippal's finishing up his coursework, ten years late. Tidus would say he's proud, but he had told Gippal to stay in school.

Okay, fine—he'd told Gippal school would always be there; blitz not so much.

And, hey, he'd been right.

"Right," Tidus says as he finally catches the eye of a pretty blonde wearing a black suit with a key at the end of a lanyard. He smiles as she approaches.

"What can I help you with, gentleman?" she asks, her blue eyes flashing as she meets Tidus's eye.

"My buddy here's looking for an engagement ring," Tidus says, putting his arm around Gippal's shoulder. Gippal's eyebrows press together and then he scowls when he realizes what Tidus is doing.

He pulls himself out of Tidus's grasp and says, "Don't let him fool you. He's he one getting hitched."

Tidus's smile falls off his lips. Ten years ago Gippal would have had his back. It was also approximately ten years ago that Gippal officially stopped giving into Tidus's every whim. Tidus's eyes go down on the rings again. There was a long period there when they weren't friends at all. It's only been the last year or so that they've started to mend their relationship.

"Well, let me show you our newest collection." She pulls her lanyard over her head and bends over, but not in a way that would show off her cleavage, which means the flirtation has to a halt before it even started. Thanks a lot, Gip.

She pulls out a wooden box and lifts an oval-shaped diamond. "This is one of our best cuts and one of our rarest diamonds."

"Great," Tidus says, spinning it around, mesmerized by its sparkle in the fluorescent lighting. "I'll take it."

"You know she's not flashy like Dona was," Gippal says, shaking his head. "Plus, she said she wanted an emerald on that podcast she was a guest on."

Tidus scratches at his neck. "What podcast?"

"You know, the podcast where they interview WAGs."

"You listen to the WAG podcast?"

"Everyone listens," the girl across the counter says. "After the reality show."

Tidus closes his eyes, picturing the logo for "BLITZBALL WAGS" with its diamond ring wrapped around a blitzball. "Yevon…"

"The drama with your ex was incredible." The girl smiles, white teeth against her red lips. "I couldn't believe the stuff she was saying."

"None of it was true," Tidus mumbles.

"It was all true," Gippal says with a wink.

"Do you really sleep with a teddy bear?" The girl asks.

"Of course not!"

"He totally does." Gippal's smirk widens.

"Is it true that you have to pay her your entire salary as alimony after the divorce?"

"No. It's not true." It's half-true. Literally—Tidus pays her half his salary. "Yevon, I came here to buy an engagement ring. Or do you want me to take my business elsewhere?"

"Maybe you should show us the emeralds," Gippal says. "I hear she likes emeralds."

"You don't know her better than I do," Tidus says, pinching at his brow.

"I beg to differ." Gippal grimaces. "She definitely said emerald in her interview."

"He's right," the girl says, giving Tidus a pitying smile, the type of smile he's been getting more and more these days. From teammates, from coaches, from fans. "I listened to the interview, too. She said emerald."

Defeated, Tidus says, "Fine. Show me the emeralds."

#

Yuna takes a deep breath and eyes the box under her bed. Once upon a time she had folded the jersey in that box, only to take it out to return it to its owner. Only to have it returned… at which point she'd stuck it in the closet. With a deep breath, she sits onto the floor by her bed and slides the box out. It's a plain white box. Her prom dress had come in it so many years ago. Her fingers tremble as she debates on going through it.

She knows what's in it—Bevelle University Basilisks Blitzball programs and stat sheets. There's also a rally towel from the first Zanarkand Abes game she went to and, this embarrasses her the most, a receipt from the place she went to dinner that night.

Just as she's about to lift the lid and dive into what had once been among her most treasured possessions, her phone rings. Her heart lifts at the sight of the caller and she glances at her reflection to make sure she doesn't look too grungy after a full day of travel.

"Hey, hon," she greets as she answers his FaceTime call. "When's your flight getting in?"

His tanned face comes across the screen, his brown eyes squinted in the bright, fading sunset, which shines on his platinum hair, which is brushed back off his face.

"Hey! Did you get in alright?"

"Yeah. Here now." Yuna folds her legs and sits straighter. "Where are you?"

"Yuna, you wouldn't believe it—I got the most awesome opportunity. I'm at an Al Bhed ruin site. They don't let people like me come here very often." It's then that Yuna realizes his camera's hanging from his neck, along with the pendant of Yevon. Back when she first met him, he wore that pendant as a reminder of his duty to Yevon, his drive to become a Maester of Spira someday. Now he wears it "ironically," a symbol of the oppression Yevon casts on Spira.

Yuna sighs and leans back against her bed. "Baralai… you'll be here tomorrow, right?"

"Well, that's the thing… Apparently the best time to get the photographs is right around 4:00 in the afternoon, which means…"

"You won't make it before my dad's party." A pressure builds behind Yuna's eyes. It'll be hard enough facing her father and the other Maesters. Baralai was supposed to be her buffer, the disappointing son of Lord Mika, whose "liberal" education got to him, who left his stiff upbringing and started delving into New Yevon teachings, becoming a photographic journalist showcasing areas of Spira that Yevon has left to rot, mostly Al Bhed territory. It's important, fulfilling work.

But it means he's away more than he's home and it means he'll be missing the one thing Yuna told him he couldn't miss.

"But, you said…"

"Hey, I know," he says, smirking. "Come on, Yuna. I'll make it up to you. You know I can't pass this opportunity up."

"But you're leaving me to the sharks…"

"Come on, we both know the Maesters love you. You went to law school, just like your dad wanted. Sure, he wanted you to work in government in Bevelle, but you're making way more gil in Luca. And we all know you'll be back in Bevelle someday, Maestress of Spira."

Heat flames in Yuna's cheeks. "You really think so?"

"Of course. And, hell, for all we know, I might be tame by then. Either I'll become Spira's first gentleman since Yunalesca ruled over Spira a thousand years ago or I'll also become a Maester. We'll be that power couple I know our parents always hoped we'd be."

Yuna smiles, a warmth bursting in her gut. Baralai didn't talk about the future much, one of his rules, but oh how she loves when he does.

She'd been pretty surprised when she ran into him a little over five years ago. They'd both graduated from their respective graduate programs and she'd just started at her posh law firm when she met him at an art display and was shocked to find his photographs were the ones displayed. She quickly discovered he was no longer the snooty guy she'd known from childhood.

They started dating shortly after.

"Oh, hey, I gotta go." Baralai grins. "We'll catch up later, okay? Love you."

"Love you, too." He hangs up before she finishes her sentence.

Even though Baralai's complete lack of structure was what enticed her at that art showcase all those years ago, she can't help but wish he had a little more care for their plans.

She picks at a nail. It's hard to admit, even to herself, but she really thought they'd be married by now.

Well, Yuna knows there's no use sitting here feeling sorry for herself. She picks up her phone and sends a text message to Rikku.

"Want to go to my dad's retirement party with me tomorrow night?"