He stole to survive the days, still thankfully countable on one hand. He was yet unable to find clothes that vaguely pleased him. He'd find some fabric and make his own, were it not Ruby who made the clothes of Tantalus. He didn't understand exactly how one was capable of using a needle and not pricking oneself. Even Kuja was unable to explain the idea to him. He found food he preferred, and food he would rather stay away from when he wandered the city with little more than the blanket covering him.

He also realized that he was more awake at the night, rather than the day.

Are you sure you want to build a fire? Kuja asked. Someone might see it.

Zidane gave a colorful thought about what he thought of others who were awake at the time he was, and that he was fully aware that he might very well apply to some of the categories presented. Basically, he thought. Were they to see me building this fire, they would have to explain why they were out at this hour.

He felt the heavy sigh Kuja gave at his insistence for warmed food. Zidane took a match he liberated from a restaurant and struck it, watching the fire glow bright as he placed the match into the timber.

He clapped his hands together gleefully at the prospect of the meat buns he stole the previous night, ignoring the static discharge he felt as his hands removed themselves from one another. He grabbed one, and when he reached for the sheet he wanted to place between it and the fire, it changed its shape. It molded itself in strange ways, only to end up shaped like a chocobo. He had a bit of a laugh at the shape, but it still surprised him.

Magic, he just performed magic. He never could before, beyond stagecraft, but that was more take a handful of glittery powder, throw at Baku. Watch as Baku pretended to be in pain. There was only one way he could have done so.

Dammit! You liar! He shouted at Kuja. You said this wasn't your plan, but look, I'm doing magic.

He felt Kuja's pleasure. I told you, I don't want your body, but with this… I might just be able to get you home. But you need practice.

Practice, Kuja? Why, so you can more easily control me?

Kuja seemed to disagree. This isn't quite magic, Zidane, but it is similar enough. Never thought you would go for practicality over style, though.

Zidane was confused.

You're not ignoring basic facts of nature, such as the inability to create or destroy matter or energy. Magic has found the workaround to that. This is something more basic, almost a predecessor to it.

So you want to teach me magic to help me out?

Kuja felt frustrated. I want to teach you to hone what you did. Your "Proto-Magic" I guess you can say. It's similar enough that I figure the gift could easily work the same way.

Zidane blocked Kuja's near-nonsensical ramblings and wandered around the quiet town, eating the chocobo-shaped bun. He looked around the stores in tonight's area. One caught his attention. In the shop display, a book, with words he couldn't read, had a picture of a strange circle on it. Whether from Kuja or himself, he was drawn to it. He once thought he saw a rune like that near Vivi when the mage casted spells.

Kuja, this look like something that might help in some ways? He focused on recreating the image of the book in his mind.

Kuja made contemplative sounds before agreeing. Do your thing, Zidane.

He looked around for an entry point, and any possible witnesses. After confirming a good place for the first and the lack of the second, he moved in.

In addition to the many diagrams in the books, Kuja seemed to understand several of the words as well. He claimed them as an ancient dialect of Terra's. He tried teaching Zidane the basics, but the thief proved a tough student. At the same time, Zidane managed to pick up the spoken language easier, when he hid in the shadows listening to the men and women walk by.

However, Zidane was learning the written language as well.

"This word," Zidane said pointing at one. "It's a-l-ke-mie. Alchemy. It shows up often."

Perhaps there's a word for what you can do, Kuja touched with a sarcastic tone.

Zidane smiled. I like how it looks. Better than the word "Magic" by far.

Kuja cursed.

"You wish you could do that, don't you?"

Shut up. There, that circle. The one on the top right.

What about it?

Your nocturnal days are over if you can work it.

Zidane shook his head. "It makes clothes?"

Provided you get the fabric. Remember, you can't make things like I can.

"I find some of this convenient, Kuja, the circles. They're similar enough that you recognize them."

Magic is magic, no matter the world. It just seems this world is backwards enough that it hasn't yet managed to avert physics.

But, you can read the text, Zidane thought. Explain that.

Coincidence.

Unlike clothes, Zidane was far less picky when it came to fabric. He found a nice thick woven fabric that was in his favorite color, and a large amount of it at that. Kuja thought he had too much, but he could always find other uses for any excess. Kuja was very playful at the moment. Zidane could feel the soul dancing through him.

What is it Kuja? I'm trying to prepare this circle. Can't you help by not being so distracting?

He felt a shook head. I think you should try what you did with the bun.

"Kuja, you're speaking nonsense."

See the array in your mind, how you want the cloak to end up. Humor me Zidane and try this.

Zidane closed his eyes. Long, wide sleeves on a hooded cloak. The rim touching his ankle, enough to mask the movements of his tail, something that seemed to stand out far too much in this world. Above it, he pictured the circle in the book, the lines came next. He finished with the runes.

Clap your hands, think of the energy flowing through, then put your hands on the fabric.

Zidane was surprised by the bright light that emit from his hands as he put them on the fabric. He removed them in shock, feeling the fabric reshape itself, cutting in some areas, drawing the threads from the remnants to seal the separate pieces, and sewing them together. He was quite pleased with the result and put it on quickly, surprised at how well the coat fit him. He ran into the street to let the rare lit street lamp shine on his new disguise. He took a look and frowned.

"I thought I picked blue fabric, Kuja," Zidane said annoyed when looking at the coat's arm. "Why is this not blue?"

You're stealing at night, and you've yet to start a fire since you discovered that you can use "Alchemy." You must have grabbed the wrong color by mistake.

It wasn't worth it to argue with Kuja. And he didn't need two coats. He'd just have to accept the coat he had, in a color he wasn't fond of.

You're right, it's not a color you can hide easily in. You'll be getting quite the bit of attention.

"I'd get more if I took it off," Zidane said idly. "I'll keep it."

He walked back to his corner, with the spare food and extra quilt. Tomorrow, he'd go out in the day.

It was strange though. He thought he heard a woman say some words as he admired his handywork.

"Full Metal."

A/N: I normally don't give these, but oh well, I'm surprised I got attention on this. Which is a turned-serious doppelganger crossover (At least that's what my crossovers based on my original inspiration are called on TV Tropes.) as this chapter is not shy to admit it being. There'll be several light parts in this, some almost humorous, but I've already plotted most of this story and have it written to about the halfway. It'll be about 10 chapters if it doesn't try to go places it shouldn't and linger on dialogue, and so, for the two people who I know are watching this, thank you so much for making me feel welcome into two old fandoms of mine that have been on the shelf gathering dust for a while until about four months ago.

Next Chapter: Kuja starts his "Evil" plan to get Zidane back to Gaia, the other short blond alchemist makes his first appearance, and Zidane finally interacts with someone other than Kuja. Tune in… whenever I get the kinks out of where I want the dialogue to go for the next chapter of "The Red Crown Around Your Door"