Hey, look what I found in my closet!!!! I thought I had lost this! ^_^
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, just my own imagination and my super cool title! ^_^
I’ll warn you now – this does have YAOI… and sadly in this story you can’t pretend one’s a boy and one’s a girl. (That is unless you still think Kuja’s a girl ~_^.) It’s kinda obvious! ^_^ This also has some spoilers – but you probably won’t understand them until after you’ve beat the game. But just in case – this has SPOILERS for the ENDING of the GAME!!!!!!!!!!!!
By Kuja's Moon
Whispered somewhere in the void of his mind, leaving the deep voice echoing forever around him. Haunting him.
It was too final, this word – farewell – he didn’t like it.
His heart started racing when they looked back at him. Their eyes pleading with him to come on, to leave with them; but all he could see was him. His feet refused to move any further away from the tree.
Oh, how he used to be so good with words, but now when it came down to it his mind couldn’t seem to organize itself. He, himself, didn’t understand what it was trying to say – how could they possibly expect him to explain himself.
No! That would take too long and he had a sudden fear that he didn’t have too long before it was too late.
What the hell was wrong with him? He shouted at his mind. These sudden feelings! Never had he felt anything – like this… ever. Oh, god, it hurt so bad.
Somehow he heard himself say something about him being alive and that he couldn’t just leave him.
The tall one hadn’t seemed the least bit surprised, muttering something under his breath as he turned to leave.
The two little ones, they had both stared back in shock – the girl on the verge of tears; the mage boy concerned. And then there was the one who had stepped forward, the air around her radiating royalty.
She asked something of him – but he hadn’t heard – just gave a single slow nod – too wrapped up in confusion to understand her words.
Barely looking up as they turned to leave, he felt his heart start to beat violently against his ribcage for a second time in the past few minutes. And again he felt as if all his sanity had been thrown out some unseen window. He wished he could save it – but it was long gone now – with his friends.
He felt bad that suddenly he couldn’t recall their names. It wasn’t that he had completely forgotten them – just one name seemed to broadcast itself so loudly in his mind that the others seemed like a faded past.
Somewhere in the back of his head he realized that he had some form of love for the Princess girl, but it was nothing like what he felt for-
He swallowed. No- no – he couldn’t possibly – Garland had said they were brothers. No, this had to be something else. Not – he shook his head even as he unconsciously started running back to the Iifa Tree. He couldn’t – love – Kuja, could he? He was a lethal enemy, and only hours before he was trying to kill him. Oh –hell – that didn’t matter all that much, really. It had worked for Romeo and Juliet, ne? But brothers?
Jumping downward without much thought of what he was doing he found himself trying to find a loop hole in what Garland had said. Brothers? But they didn’t even have a mother… so how could that be? So what, the same old guy made them. He had made all those other Genomes too, and they seemed content living together if they were “brother and sister”. Yeah – perhaps they didn’t do anything – but-
He wanted to hit his head against something as hard as he could – make his brains spill out in front of him so he could physically organize them understand them. So maybe that was that was a rather sick thought and he really didn’t want his brains to spill out. But these feelings and all this thinking – god, it hurt so much. What would it matter if he finally did justify what Garland had spoke of, if Kuja didn’t return this… feeling.
Desperately, he felt the need to cry but no tears sprung forth. He gave a bitter laugh that rocked him to the core – that’s what happens when you suppress them for so long.
A swift turn from the vine, that he had hitched a ride on, almost knocked him off as he struggled to stay on, catching a glimpse of what looked like a bottomless pit. He was quite sure that the sudden jolt caused the light in his brain to flick on.
They couldn’t be brothers – not really. Without a mother or a real father they wouldn’t have the same make-up of their bodies. And hadn’t Garland said that he had started with Kuja and, not liking the outcome, began changing things?
He liked the outcome.
Zidane knew in his mind if he had spoken his last thought out loud to anyone they wouldn’t have understood it – but since it was his brain that the awkward sentence had come from he understood it perfectly and who really cared about the rest of the world? Well, except Kuja… he did care about what he thought.
Satisfied with his justification he put his hands on his hips as he closed his eyes and tilted his head forward – chest puffed out – as he let the wind rip back his hair. A small smile crept to his face. He’d find Kuja and tell him; everything would be okay. Everything.
Yes, Kuja’d understand him just as he understood Kuja. Deep down inside he knew that the Princess girl, as sweet as she was, never could. She was – too busy with something else, he could feel it. He knew he’d miss her and wouldn’t mind seeing her again, to be friends with her.
It did hurt him to think that he couldn’t love her anymore. Well, he did love her, just not like he did before – now he felt as though she was a sister.
With a heavy sigh, he cursed his emotions – they refused to cooperate, and it was so frustrating. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he slowly opened his eyes.
Narrowing he missed crashing into a rarely large root as he dropped down to the vine with boyish grace so that he lay flat on it, tail lashing around wildly.
Now that he had figured it all out, he could enjoy the ride down. As his almost manic smile consumed his face, he peered forward, eyes searching for his soon to be lover.
“Here, Kuja… Here Kuja, Kuja, Kuja,” He chanted, voice no more that a husky whisper.
His breathing halted as his eyes locked on what seemed an unconscious form. Finally remembering to breathe, he gasped, whispering to himself, “He’s like an Angel.” The irony of his comment caught up with him and he practically giggled. Angel of Death.
He froze as he realized his eyes had locked with a pair of sapphire ones.
It seemed to him that the vine moved in slow motion, bringing him closer – oh, so slowly. His eyes never wavered – neither did the haunting ones.
But suddenly, as if someone had pressed fast forward, he was plunged in the darkness, leaving behind his Angel of Death.
“No!” He felt himself shout more than heard the word. Madly scampering back up the vine, Zidane flung himself towards Kuja’s resting-place.
The hurl landed him inches from his goal. “Kuja?” He pushed himself up, crawling with surprising grace – given his battered badly – towards the scarcely clad boy.
In the blink of an eye he saw his friends flash in front of him. For a split second he remembered everything. Garrent, Vivi, Eiko, Rusty, Freya, Amarant, Quina… Blank… the others. He still had a chance to make it, he knew – not only because Kuja was whispering so – but because… he knew. It was hard to explain, like so much else, but for a minute he saw everything so clearly. If he left right then he’d be able to see them again. If not…
“I thought I told you to go…” It was less than a choked whisper.
Zidane pushed up so that he could push away the silvery blue strands of hair that was obscuring the almost-too-feminine face. They didn’t need him anymore. He let a smile touch his lips.
“You’d have done the same for me, ne?”
In response he received a slight gasp and silence, before –
“Damn it, Zidane, go! I’m not worth coming back for.” The pale lips hissed out.
“Everyone’s worth coming back for –” Zidane whispered, his heart once again thumping wildly. He hoped his face wasn’t blushing quite as much as he imagined it was.
What was he supposed to say? He traced his fingers over the tears in the maroon cloth, clutching almost childlike to it against the heaving chest.
“Everyone’s worth coming back for…” He whispered again so softly that he barely heard himself. His eyes unfocused; he stared ahead into the forest of roots and vines that closed in around him. Blinking, he snapped his head back to Kuja, locking eyes for the briefest of seconds before breaking eye contact.
He knew his cheeks had burst into multiple shades of red as he buried his face into Kuja’s chest, receiving a jolt of pain where his bruised ribs rammed into the older man’s. “Please…” Why was he saying please? Could he not even control his own mouth? “I love you!” He bit his lip – oh, god! No he couldn’t control it! He hadn’t meant to say it so bluntly – honest…
Slowly he lifted his eyes to the sapphire blue ones. He felt the hope rise up so tightly inside him that he knew his ex-enemy could see every inch of it through the entrance to his soul.
Iced sapphire colored orbs stared at him coldly for what seemed like eternity. He almost looked away before he heard the laughter – god-awful laughter.
“Do you expect me to return this?”
The voice was hissed in his ear, reminding him of a snake, and he shook his head furiously, blonde hair dancing around him.
“Good – because I won’t ever! Never.”
He wanted to pull away, but the roots had caged them in too close together. There was no where for him to move, so he buried his head back against his brother’s chest and started crying.
It hurt so bad and now even more so. Never? He choked on a sob. Never could he love anyone else after the few minutes that he felt this. He wished he could – for a fact, he knew none of that old love had ever hurt his much. He gave a bitter laugh – old love! Humph, old love… that was only yesterday. He twisted his fists tightly in the shirt, making the older boy under him gasp slightly. If Kuja had just refused him with never then why couldn’t his heart just stop its self-torture?
Never. Never will I poison you by telling you the truth, my little canary. I called that girl of yours that once – but you are far more beautiful than she… just thought you might like to know. I’ve loved you from the start – from the begging of your life. Garland told you I hated you? No, never – how could I? Even when you were little you always had that stupidly cute grin plastered to your face.
Perhaps, for a time, I was jealous, but not for long…
Once Garland forced me to put you to bed, a week after you were made. You had been screaming when he shoved you into my arms, creating a headache for us all, but you subsided almost immediately when you rested there, clutching my tunic as though your life depended on it. Just as you do now…
Until that moment I admit I didn’t really appreciate your presence in the world. But my heart started pounding, as though threatening to escape from my ribcage. It’s the kind of feeling you get when you know this will only happen once and it’s your only chance… I suppose you could consider it nervousness – but it’s not.
I remember walking down the hall when something curled around my arm. I nearly dropped you only to realize that it was your tail. My breath caught in my throat – I remember only doing that if I felt totally safe and peaceful – which I rarely did. I really thought I would have died when I heard you purring.
You spoke your first words that night. I remember it like it was yesterday – as stupid as that sounds. I was placing you down on your bed when you pulled closed to me as though you didn’t want me to leave. Oh, god, and when you spoke – I felt my knees go weak – your voice was so smooth a little lower than I thought a Genome of your size should have.
It was only a mumbled incomplete sentence, but it meant the world to me – and till does.
“Love you Ku’a”
I remembered being stunned so much that I froze only to be stunned again, when you gave me the childish-of-childish goodnight kisses. No one had ever given me a goodnight kiss. Garland wasn’t that kind of a “father” and none of the others would have even dared.
But you did, and I’m glad. I don’t know if I would have made it if you hadn’t… I put my fingers to my lips, gasping; your lips tasted sweet, reminding me at once of spring.
Did anyone ever tell you you’re so beautiful when you sleep?
–When Garland told me his uses for you, the anger that welded up inside me was amazing. Never had I ever been so infuriated, the hair on the back of my neck stood on ends and my lips curled up in a sneer. He must have thought me jealous. He was a stupid man though… Too weak to be able to actually harm him, I stormed out to find you. Sweeping you up in my arms, I decided that then and there he wasn’t going to do what he had done to me to you.
I’ve saved you from Garland – I won’t kill you know by saying… “I love you.”
Zidane froze – his tears completely stopping too. Loosening his grip on the maroon tunic he tilted his face up so that his chin rest on Kuja’s breast bone.
Had he heard correctly? And what were those flood of thoughts? They weren’t his… He took in a gasping and broken breath and let his eyes focus as he blinked away what remained of his tears.
Kuja’s eyes were shut tight, his teeth clenched, and silvery blue hair plastered to his face.
“Kuja?” Zidane whispered, trying desperately to keep calm.
Iced sapphire eyes slowly opened to allow crystal tears to slip down the pale cheeks. For a while they stared at each other before Kuja, in a labored voice, broke the warm silence. “I don’t want to poison you…”
At any other time a comment like that would have sent Zidane rolling on the floor, howling with laughter, but as it wasn’t any other time he didn’t. Kuja could have very well said that Zidane had only five seconds to live.
“I’d rather take the poison from your lips than this torture you give me now.” Zidane stated simply, his lips pouting slightly. The man under him tensed making fear course through his body. He snapped his eyes up to Kuja’s.
To his relief the silver-headed man hadn’t been any closer to dying than he himself was, but the gaze the older boy was giving him scared him. He almost looked as though he was angry. Zidane swallowed hard as the sapphire gaze never faltered. It was measuring him up – almost glaring.
He whimpered and tried to draw away only to find his tail tangled with something. The harder he pulled the tighter it became stuck. Again he whimpered, pulling to his knees, as he glanced back to his tail. He barely turned when he felt slender fingers slip between his, pulling him back down, and only realized after he turned back to Kuja that his tail was wrapped with the older boy’s. Kuja pulled Zidane against him.
“You’d rather take the poison… But what if it kills you… you still have a chance to make it.” He whispered into the blonde’s ear.
“I haven’t had a chance since the day I was born. I haven’t had a chance since you said Farewell.” Zidane rolled the word over his tongue – making a face as though the word itself had an unpleasant taste.
“I can always teleport you back.” Kuja’s voice was off-handed, and he was barely able to finish the sentence before he started coughing. His body rocking with each one.
“Please don’t send me away. I don’t want to go.” Zidane begged, and suddenly feeling more daring, more himself, he added; “I’m not going, I’m staying here – with you.”
“The poison will kill you, you know,” Kuja whispered softly, eyes searching Zidane’s.
Everybody dies sometime – right? So why not die supremely happy, ne?
Zidane wrapped his tail around Kuja’s again, nuzzling his head against the latter’s chest. “I know.”
“You know.” Kuja repeated. He seemed to almost be asking – but almost telling him also, as his strong hands fit perfectly around Zidane’s body – trembling. Hands that could easily kill the boy if they felt so inclined. Zidane felt his heart swell with sudden happiness when he felt the fingers gently pulling away his pathetic hair tie, running through the golden locks, tilting his face up to trace thumbs delicately over his bottom lip.
He felt his breath catch in his lungs as though an invisible fist was crushing his ribs into his stomach. Oh, god, the way those fingers played over his skin – set it on fire. Shivering, he pulled himself up so that he was inches from the pale face, enough to see the mascara that was slightly smeared from… tears; Kuja’s hands still resting on him, palms burning like fire but fingertips leaving traces of ice.
He strained his eyes to memorize every inch of the pale face in front of him. The way the sapphire-ice gaze was so strong yet somehow gentle, how the lips parted so sweetly, the strains of hair, the small ears, faint freckles from long ago when a smaller Kuja had played in the sun – he wanted to remember it all… but Zidane’s eyelids felt so heavy, as his lashes fluttered to stay open.
Half-lidded eyes tried in vain to look at the once most powerful mage on Gaia. And the boy looked so cute fighting with consciousness, as if he could win, that before he knew what he was doing, Kuja pressed his lips to the trembling blue-tinted ones.
The taste was of spring and laughter, of stars and planets, of things he couldn’t explain – but all things good – filled him to the point of overflowing. For the first time in his life he felt truly happy.
Oh, the names – they were gone again, and his memory – gone too. He only knew he’d never felt anything so wonderful.
Kisses – he knew he’d had thousands of them – from just about every girl he’d ever met. But this made all other kisses shallow in comparison.
“Kuja…” He breathed out mumbling against the soft lips. His hands were freezing as he slipped them under the short tunic, causing his newfound lover to arch back into the ground.
I want to stay here forever – with you.
Now that we’ve found this…
Never to leave your side again
But it can’t happen – it won’t happen
Because I can feel its anger
Rising up in its hart like the poison
We pretend to play with
If I had anymore power
I’d send you away
So you won’t die with me too.
But the stubbornness that I know is in you –
You’d just throw yourself back in my tomb.
To die beside me – and I love you –again – for it
Look we fit so perfectly together
Do you think it was a coincidence?
Not hardly, but I know Garland didn’t plan it
Your hair’s so soft – pretty golden
I wish it could stay that way forever
Your lips are sweeter than sweet
I wish they could stay that way forever
Your eyes – forever do I drowned in them
Never when I challenged you did I ever look you directly in the eyes for long
No, I would have surely gone crazy
To know that while you were with in my reach I couldn’t have you.
He didn’t want to leave the embrace – it was his world now…
Tracing the skin, that he couldn’t see, under the tunic, with his fingertips, he let out a happy sigh.
“It’s angry,” Kuja whispered, letting his gaze slip from Zidane to something higher – the Iifa tree itself. And there was a sudden blackness as the roots and vines total surrounded them.
Zidane’s lip tremble and he felt tears roll down his cheeks. He wanted to scream to Kuja “Don’t ever stop looking at me – I fell so alone.” Where the hell did this baby-ness come from? He was an accomplished flirt; he wasn’t supposed to feel this! Oh, damn, he felt like such a little girl. Wait – was he shaking? Oh, he was and so violently – and Kuja knew. Kuja knew he was afraid. Oh, god, why? Kuja’d think him no more than a weak little girly boy and push him away. He didn’t want him to know…
“No, sweet canary,” the voice was unusually soft. Hands pulled him closer than he thought they possibly could, as a soft glow illuminated the small space they were in.
“Kuja?” He wrapped his hands tightly in the folds of the tunic again.
“Mmm?” He felt the cold fingers running through his hair, as the older boy acknowledged his question.
“You won’t…leave me-e?” Shivering, his voice started to stutter. “Wi-ill yo-o-u?”
“How could I?” I’d die without you.
“Kuja – it’s so cold.” Already too numb to fell the chilling air, Kuja pulled the shivering boy as close as he could, kissing his blue-tinted lips softly.
It was angry – furious – and he could hear it whistling vines towards them. His grip tightened on Zidane, as he pressed his lips more urgently against the younger boy’s. His brow pursed in .
It was coming. And he knew that Zidane felt it too as the smaller Genome tangled his slender fingers in the silvery blue locks. The more anger that weld in the hart of their captor the more urgent their kiss became until at last they were gasping for air.
“Cold –” Zidane shivered again, ice collecting on his eyelashes and nose.
Kuja pressed his lips again to Zidane’s, rather forcefully – after which he hoped wouldn’t bruise their sweetness.
There was a rumbling noise from beneath them and above.
Like lightening and thunder vines crashed through their tiny imprisonment.
Zidane didn’t scream when the anger tore through him – neither did Kuja – their lips never parting for a second.
Warm liquid surround them both, soaking through the remaining clothes the had, splattering on the roots of the tree.
It hurt – but only in the back of his mind. He was far too concerned with the boy impaled with him on the vines. It had come – death. Was it just him or was the air suddenly to hot to breathe?
Opening his eyes, he pushed back the dampened hair that was plastered to Zidane’s face. Slowly the boy’s crystal blue eyes opened to him. He could only see the gamen face – everything else swirled around the boy into a meaningless nothing. He struggled to gasp the air, giving the smaller gemone a weak smile.
He was falling – falling; and oh, god, it hurt. Panicked, he realized he couldn’t feel Kuja or hear his breathing – had he left him?
He jumped at the soft touch against his skin, feeling his sweat slicked hair being pushed away from his face. His eyes opened of their own accord – he hadn’t known they had closed.
Kuja gave him a watery smile – his eyes no longer holding any malice in them whatsoever.
His hands were freezing as he reached them downward – under Kuja’s body – between the sheet of armor and skin.
The silver haired boy gave a low hiss, closing his eyes in pain.
Zidane pushed himself further down the vine; he could feel the splinters ripping through his flesh, leaning down to capture the pale lips.
It never started – never ended.
Their eyes close together; their lips parting too. Zidane draped over Kuja, whose hand was tangled in the mass of golden locks. Finger locked with fingers, falling backward in an awkward position as their softly breathed words mingled together, echoing for eternity inside themselves.
Though I think this story is a neat idea – I’m afraid I made it a wee bit confusing…. Gomen! (Hey, does anybody get the title? ^_^;V)
Return to Archive