Disclaimer: Square-Enix owns all of the FFIX goodness. I'm but a lowly hotel desk clerk. Yeah.

Notes: This is my first new piece of fanfiction in a long time. Sorry if it sucks. ; This is just a somewhat alternate take on what may have happened after the end of FFIX. Enjoy (I hope).

Accepting Souls
By: Sforzie

"I don't want to die!
I don't want to die!
Please..."

It was raining. The sky above the distant black mountains was gray, even. Today, as in days previous, the thunderstorms that eased their way over the mountains were as persistent and oppressive as the Mist. The city, viewed from the high castle window, was just as gray. It seemed to him that the city below was lying in wait. Waiting for something to happen. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen.

"Zidane?" Her voice sounded behind him. Soft, as if afraid to speak over the occasional rumbles of thunder. He turned away from the window to face her.

"Yeah?"

Garnet tilted her head up at him, frowning slightly during the long moment it took for him to lean forward and give her a quick hello kiss.

"Are you alright?"

Zidane blinked in surprise. "I'm fine, why?"

"You've been up here all day," she said. "And yesterday too, and the day before. Ever since it started raining."

"I hadn't realized...sorry."

"It's okay, I was just worried, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Garnet was always worrying. Zidane scratched behind his ear. "For some reason the storm has just made me feel funny."

"You're not getting sick, are you?"

"No, no, not like that. It's just..." He turned his head, looking back out the window at the gray. "It just feels a little oppressive, that's all. Makes me feel a little claustrophobic."

"Well, I know you like to go and wander about town..." She smiled encouragingly. "You could go out, you know. Just take an umbrella."

Thunder rumbled.

"Maybe..."

"And if not now, I'm sure it'll stop raining soon," Garnet said. "Then you can go out and splash in puddles and get messy."

He smiled. "Gee, thanks, Mom." They laughed. "Maybe I'll do that."

"Alright." she smiled, nodding. "I'll be downstairs, there's still a few more royal business things that need taking care of today." She brushed her fingers through his hair. "You can come down, you know. I'd appreciate the company. Some of that stuff gets really boring."

"Mm, okay." Zidane nodded. "I'll come down in a little bit."

"Good." The queen raised up on her toes, placing a kiss on his cheek. "I'll have the chef make you some hot chocolate."

"Sounds good."

She left, smiling back at him for a moment before pulling the door to the study shut. Zidane watched her go, still smiling.

"You really worry too much, Dagger," he said softly after the door had closed. The worry was genuine, he knew. Ever since his return a year and some weeks before she always seemed a bit extra-worried about his well being.

Zidane padded over to the door and placed his hand on the knob. His tail curled absently behind him.

He raised his hand from the knob and instead reached up and pulled the door's bolt into its locked position. The metal clinked into place just as it thundered again. The sound was oddly soothing. He went back to the window, leaning on the sill.

Except for a few new darker patches in the clouds, nothing had changed. The wind was still blowing from the same direction, and the rainwater still made its way off the overhangs in silvery curtains.

Silvery curtains...falling in perfect rhythm around hair nearly the same color, but a bit darker, a bit more tinged with a bruised violet...

Hello, Zidane.

He froze as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Zidane turned quickly, looking for the source of the voice. There was no one else in the room. Every seat in the study was empty and in its proper place. The door was still bolted and shut tight.

"Who's there?"

Just me, Zidane. Just me.

"Wha-who?" He turned again. A flash of lightning caught his eye.

You do remember, don't you? I know it must have been awhile. Maybe you forgot? I think I fell asleep...

The voice was indeed tinged with sleep, nearly whispered in his ear. Zidane moved back to the window, resting a few fingers on the glass. It was cold.

"I remember now, I think."

I do hope so.

"I wondered what happened. I wasn't sure where you went."

Mm, it's just so nice and cozy and warm in here, I must've dozed right off...

Zidane felt the hand return to his left shoulder, then slide down his arm. Another hand took his right, lacing fingers with fingers. There was a warm breath on his right ear. He could ear the smile in the voice.

How long has it been?

"Um..." He turned his head a bit, looking for a calendar that was no longer hanging on the study wall. "About two years."

Two years, my my. That was quite a nap.

"A nap..." He looked back out the window. "Why'd you wake up now, then?"

I think it was the thunder...

"Thunder? But it's been storming for three days..."

That's right. It has.

"You've been back that long?"

Mm-hmm. I was just...watching, that's all.

"Watching."

That's all I can do for now. Well, almost all.

"You're not...going to try anything, are you?"

Why, of course not, dear brother.

The sarcasm was there, subtle, dancing in the short vowel sounds.

We made a promise. And I always keep my promises.

"Sure you do." Zidane tried to think back to a specific point in time when he'd been betrayed, but couldn't pinpoint it. He was having a hard time focusing, as if someone were purposefully keeping their hands over the memory to block it. This pondering prompted a chuckle in his ear. It was low and amused, though still a little tired.

Try something a little bit more recent.

"More recent?"

Don't repeat everything, it makes you sound stupid.

"Shut up."

How rude. He felt a pinch on his arm. You're not a very polite host.

"Who said I had to be?"

Touché, tailboy.

"Remind me again why I agreed to this."

Because you're a sucker. Don't you remember?

"Of course I do, it's only been two years..."

Zidane had woken, body resting in the flowers and weeds that bordered the Iifa tree. He looked around, unsure of what had happened as the roots of the Iifa tree had closed around he and Kuja.

"Kuja..."

After another minute or two, he noticed a crumpled form in the flowers a few feet away.

"Kuja?" He moved across the distant, half crawling, half running. "Hey! Kuja? Say something!"

His fingertips were cold, and Zidane felt a static-like sting as he touched them.

"I'm sorry..." Kuja's voice had been very faint, beyond a whisper. Almost sounding like it was in his head.

"What? Don't be sorry, you got us out of there!" Zidane started to feel lightheaded and had to sit down. Kuja managed to crack open his eyes. Zidane was bothered by the lifeless look there.

"I had to use some of your magic to get you out," Kuja said, tone apologetic. Zidane then noticed the faint bluish bruise on his upper right arm. One caused by magic osmosis.

"It's okay, I don't need it that much now anyways." Maybe that had been a lie. What if he had to cast Cure then? Or Life? No matter, he hadn't known those spells anyways. At least, not well enough to help anyone.

"Zidane..."

"Huh?" He was shaken from his distracted thoughts by the strange tone of Kuja's voice.

"I don't want to die..."

"Don't worry, we're safe now."

"I don't want to die!" Fear, panic, uncertainty, and a dozen other things he wasn't used to hearing in his brother's voice.

"Kuja? Just relax for a few minutes, and you'll be-"

"Please!" Zidane had nearly cringed at the tears that had welled up in the blue-green eyes. Eyes so similar to his own. "I'm sorry..."

"Hey, it's okay, really," he said, resting a hand on Kuja's forehead. His brother flinched at the contact.

"I didn't save you just to be nice," Kuja said, his voice returning to the withdrawn whisper.

"Eh? I thought you'd...changed."

A faint, tired laugh. "What's the point in changing if you're going to die right when you do it?" In Zidane's memory, Kuja had raised his hand, very slowly, to wipe at a bit of grime on his nose. "That would be like...like...like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, only to be devoured by a hungry bird before its wings had even dried."

"So you're still rotten."

Kuja's hand moved lower, wiping at the bit of blood that collected at the edge of his lips when he spoke. "Not rotten, just spoiled."

"...what?"

"Never mind." His hand dropped, resting on his chest. "I just want you to help me a little."

"Why should I help you now?" Zidane said. "I could just get up and walk away...you'd probably be dead in a few hours."

"That's against your nature, isn't it."

"...yeah." Zidane frowned.

"So you will grant me my dying wish, or I will have to take what I want by force?"

He hadn't liked the darker tone of his brother's voice.

"What do you want, Kuja?"

"Just a little place to stay, so I don't go away..."

Zidane blinked. "Stay? But I can't take you with me, everyone would-"

"Not like that."

"Then how?"

Kuja's lips pulled briefly into a thin smile. "We are both Genomes, yes? Both made to be vessels, and given souls, isn't that right?"

Zidane scratched the back of his head. "Well, yeah.."

"I don't want to lose my soul, Zi..." Kuja's voice trailed off, the words catching in his throat. He coughed.

"Shh. Not wanting to lose your soul, that's understandable, but I can't do anything about that."

Kuja's mouth worked wordlessly for a moment, before finally managing: "But you can. Let me...let me share your body...your vessel...no, not even that much...Just a little corner of your mind. That's all I'd really need...most of the soul is just excess energy anyways..."

Zidane thought his brother was rambling, until Kuja grabbed his wrist. There was another sharp sting.

"Please..."

"Only if...only if you promise me that you won't hurt me. Or anyone one important to me."

"I will promise you that, if you promise to let me use that vessel of yours, should I never need it."

"I...Alright, I promise."

Kuja coughed again. "Then I promise as well."

Zidane looked down at his brother, and watched the delicate effeminate lines as they twisted in pain.

"So, what now?"

Kuja opened his eyes, looking up at him for a moment before squeezing them shut again.

"You have to kiss me."

"What!" Zidane recoiled, tail lashing in the weeds behind him. "No fucking way!"

Kuja's nose wrinkled. "It's not like that, you simpleton. That's the shortest path for a transfer." He coughed, wiping at his bloody lips again. "Believe me, you're not my type."

"That's not comforting."

"Just pretend I'm a terribly handsome woman and pucker up. I'll do the magic part."

Zidane hesitated. "I'm starting to think this is a bad idea."

"At least you're thinking." Kuja's hand grabbed at Zidane again. He managed to latch onto the younger man's arm, his nails digging in. "Please."

For a dizzying moment Zidane stared into Kuja's eyes. His own words echoed in his mind. You'd do the same for me...

"Okay."

As Zidane stooped he was startled by the smile that flickered across his brother's face.

"I always get what I want," Kuja whispered firmly.

Their lips met, and fresh pain shot through Zidane's skull. He squeezed his eyes shut. In the furthest reaches of his memory something stirred. The first memory, his own beginning-the merging of a soul and an empty shell.

He felt Kuja's hand slip away from his arm. The rest was a painful nauseating blur behind his eyelids.

The dizziness passed after a few minutes, and Zidane managed to open his eyes. Everything seemed normal. He looked down at Kuja. Zidane had expected to find his body lifeless, but was disturbed to find that Kuja was still breathing.

Oh, don't look at me like that, it's not polite.

Zidane jumped, looking around for the source of the voice. Then he realized it was coming from somewhere in the back of his mind, buzzing softly in his ear like a bad conscience. He looked down at Kuja's body again. The blue-green eyes stared up dully. He recognized the blank look-the Genomes on Terra had bore the same soulless expression.

It is a pity, isn't it.

There was something wistful and sad in Kuja's voice. Zidane reached out but checked his motion before touching his brother's body.

"It's just an empty shell now, isn't it?" Zidane cocked his head. "Should I kill it?"

The Iifa tree will do that soon enough, leave it alone.

Zidane felt a strange solid warmth on his shoulder. It felt like a hand trying to make him turn away. He'd turned, looking behind him instinctively. No one was there.

"How'd you do that?"

Kuja said nothing. Zidane heard a strange shrieking noise and looked back toward the Iifa Tree. The thrashing vines were moving closer to them. He looked back down at Kuja's body. It hadn't moved, arm still outstretched from when he'd gripped Zidane's arm.

Then he turned away and ran. His body was aching from the day's battles, and he didn't make it more than a mile before collapsing to the ground. Zidane lay in the rough grass, panting and staring up at the sky.

"Well, this is just great. What am I suppose to do now?"

Kuja said nothing.

"You don't know either. Fucking great."

The voice was silent.

Zidane sighed heavily. "Well, maybe I'm better off alone anyway."

No, it's not like that. I was just thinking.

"Thinking? Hey...if you can hear my thoughts, why can't I hear yours?"

Because, my dear Zidane, you are an open book. And I am merely a bookmark.

"A bookmark? How's that?"

I am merely holding a place in you.

"Oh. Well, could you try to maybe not listen to all my thoughts all the time?"

I'll see what I can do. It would probably be in my best interests anyways, I'm sure you don't have many interesting thoughts...

"Hey..."

Yes?

"Shut up."

Ah, yes, how rude of me...

Zidane cocked his head as the voice fell silent again. He sat up, looking back at the Iifa Tree. Vines were still moving, menacing, warning him not to return. It was already feasting on his brother's body, and would likely not hesitate to do the same to him.

So he got back to his feet and hobbled off, in search of someone. Anyone.

Yes, you remember, don't you, little brother? What I said before?

"I remember."

I always get what I want.

"I know."

The princess, the power...your life. The Big Prize.

"The Big Prize..."

That's right. I know you don't mind, do you?

He could feel the lips smiling against his right ear.

"That's right."

I promise I'll be patient for you, little brother. Sweet thing. Stupid boy.

"You will?"

Of course! Of course. No hurry. Just don't go and get yourself killed, alright?

"Wouldn't want to do that, would I?"

Of course not, silly Zidane.

A faint nip at his earlobe.

I will wait for you to have your fill, alright? This palace life will get boring eventually, won't it? Even if you think you love her, the open sky calls. Doesn't it?

He stared out the window, watched the distant lightning tracing the peaks of mountains he'd once been free to explore. Should still be free to explore, right?

"Yeah, it does, sometimes."

Thank you for being honest, for once.

A hand sliding down his side, the touch gentle but firm. Warning.

You can't hide anything from me anymore, you know? I can hear everything in your head, Zidane.

"I know."

Good. I wouldn't want you trying to block me out now, when you were so generous as to let me in...

"I..."

Hmm?

"I didn't want to let you die."

So gracious.

"You were crying."

I was.

"You never cried when we were little."

Time changes people, doesn't it?

Zidane watched the lightning flicker again, closer. Thunder rattled the glass. He could feel the hand moving lower, could feel the pressure on the base of his tail. Could feel the warm, even breathing against his neck. Soft skin, close, like a protective coat.

"Yes..." He tilted his head a bit. "How long do I have? How long can I wait?"

I can wait as long as I have you to wait with, dear brother... I will wait as long as necessary. I will wait until you are ready to give this up. Have fun, have children, grow old, I don't care. Go ahead. You know you'll still be fairly young when she's dead.

"I...know."

How long until that becomes too much to bear?

"I don't know. I don't want to think about it right now."

A smile. The embrace tightened.

Alright. Forgive me, I didn't mean to trouble you so.

"It's okay." Zidane frowned, watching the edge of the Mist interact with the thunderclouds. The air swirled there, dark and malevolent. Black as night. "Hey..."

Yes?

"What if I decide that I never want to leave?"

The fingers of the hand resting on his stomach tensed briefly. He felt suddenly like he was falling, fainting... Everything grew black and then the falling stopped.

A slow smile crept across Zidane's face, then warped into a teeth gritting grin that was not his own. He looked at his hand, raising it.

"It is a pity, isn't it? I may be far too beautiful a soul for this body."

Kuja!

Zidane could see, but that was all. He couldn't control the gaze or the hand or anything. His own voice spoke, though it seemed a bit lower in tone.

"I am a patient man, Zidane. You know that. I will wait a long long time. I've had practice. But I won't wait forever."

Will I ever get to come back?

"Oh, my dear brother, you will never go away. You will be here, just like me. We'll always been together, isn't that nice? I'm not really that bad of company..."

You know what I mean. Don't avoid the question.

"Well...yes. You can come back, I promise. As long as you promise to let me have my time when I want it."

Okay.

"Good. Good. Garland was right, you really are a stupidly pleasant boy."

Then it was dark again, and Zidane stumbled forward before realizing he was back in control of his body. A chill ran down his spine as he considered how easily Kuja could take that control away. He heard the lazy chuckle and felt the hand rest gently on his should again.

Just remember, this is our little secret.

Zidane sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "...I'm tired."

It's just the rain. Just the rain.

"Did it ever rain on Terra? The buildings...they were so shiny. They looked like liquid, frozen in time."

Mm...on Terra...on Terra...

"Yeah?"

...I don't remember. Maybe it did?

"Why don't you remember?" Zidane frowned, feeling the flexing of a pinky finger against his skin.

There just isn't enough room inside here for all of me, that's all. Some of it had to be left out, you see.

"Oh." He blinked, suddenly concerned. "You're not in pain, are you?"

Are you in pain?

"No..."

Than neither am I, Zidane. Neither am I. I am free of the dull dead ache the plagued my short twenty-four years. I am free of the death creeping across my brain.

"That's...good. Right?"

Of course.

"Because I wouldn't want you lounging around in my head being bitter. I think it'd give me headaches."

Very funny. It can't be that hard to give you a headache. But for now...

The hand moved back up, resting on his shoulder again. His right hand was released. Zidane blinked in surprise.

I do believe that the little lady was desiring our companionship?

"Mine, at least."

Same thing now, isn't it?

"Yeah.."

So, let's be a good boy and unbolt the door, and go downstairs.

He did.

-

End