- but Roland stares at the bottles of hair oil and perfume by the desk; remembers the braid in his hair and the ribbon that holds it in place. The blanket he chose, something special that not a lot of people can say they received from both teens. The flower cufflinks that glimmer under dim light, its box still open.

He sighs to himself and takes the high road. There's a wry smirk on his lips as he tilts his neck a little dramatically to the side, a wide birth that allows Inigo and Tidus the exchange of ticket.

"Guess it's Inigo to the rescue."