Author's note: Whoo, my first FFIX fic 0_o This story take place on the Invincible (I think) and starts when Zidane was first created (all though it's pretty easy to figure out) Please R&R (be nice ^-^)
Disclaimer: I do not own FFIX (Nothing, I tell you!). Don't sue me.
Kuja stared at the tiny genome, eyes filled with silent rage. The little tail, the tuff of blonde hair…he was cute, all right.
"Well…?" Garland said, gently placing his hand on Kuja small shoulder.
"He's…wonderful." Kuja forced a smile. "Just wonderful."
"Yes…yes, he is…." Garland said more to himself then to anyone. Kuja turned without another word and slowly made his way to the door. "Kuja," Garland said, looking up at him. Kuja turned to face him, halfway out of the door. "He will replace you. When he comes of age, you will be destroyed. Enjoy your last years before Zidane takes your place."
Kuja's eyes opened wide and he hurried out of the room into his quarters. He paced around the small room, filled with fear. "What will I do?" he said aloud. "What will I do…?"
* * *
Kuja opened his eyes when he felt a slight pressure on his chest.
"'Morning, Kuja." Kuja gritted his teeth and sat up. "Get off me Zidane, you little rat," he growled as he shoved Zidane from his bed. Zidane sat on the floor and pouted. "I didn't do nothin'" he sniffed.
"No, no, don't cry," Kuja's voice became soft and sweet and he knelt down on the floor and hugged his brother. "You know what happens when you cry, don't you?"
Zidane smiled slyly. "You get a beatin'."
"That's right…. You don't want me to get beaten, do you?"
Zidane smiled again. He took a big breath and opened his mouth to scream, but Kuja quickly wrapped his arm around Zidane's head to muffle him. "If I get beaten, I won't be able to play with you," Kuja said. Zidane wrestled free of Kuja's grip. "You never play with me, anyway." He got up and slowly walked towards the door. Kuja sat silently on the floor, not sure if he would scream or not. Zidane stopped at the door and smiled wickedly, filling Kuja's heart with fear. "GARLAND! GARLAND!" Zidane screamed, running down the hall. Kuja shot up from the floor, hoping to stop Zidane before he was within Garland's earshot. "Zidane, come back!" he yelled as he sprinted down the hall. He was hoping to grab Zidane as he closed in, but all he saw ahead was Garland, with Zidane clinging innocently to his leg.
"O-ow…" Kuja whispered, slowly sitting up and putting his hand up to his head. Blood was seeping out of a gash above his eye and his cheek was a black and blue welt. He slowly ran his hands over his body, checking for injuries. He felt a sharp pain when he touched his stomach, and he could barely move his left leg. "A broken rib, maybe?" he said casually, leaning against the cold wall. He took deep breaths and waited…Not for anything in particular, he just waited. The door opened and in came Zidane, a small smile across his devilish face. "Get away from me," Kuja whispered, doing the best he could to turn away. "Kuja got a beatin'," Zidane sang softly, making his way across the room. "Kuja got a beatin'."
"I don't need you to tell me that," Kuja snarled, trying to think of a way to get Zidane to leave. "Why did you come?"
"I came to tell you that Garland said you're gonna die soon. Now that I'm four he doesn't need you anymore," Zidane smiled. Kuja lay back against the wall again, eyes closed. "Why?" he said, voice shaking. "I didn't…I don't…I can't…" he broke down into sobs and buried his face in his hands. Zidane had no idea what was going on, and he quickly left the room.
Two weeks later, Kuja was his old self again. His wounds were healed and he was dressed in nice clothes, sort of a reward for not getting making Zidane scream lately. He made his way down the hall, humming softly to himself. "Oh, Zidane, where are you?" he sang. He found Zidane sitting in a little corridor playing with a ball, pushing it against the wall, only to have it roll back into his hands. Zidane looked up when he heard Kuja's light footsteps behind him. "What d'you want?" he growled, going back to his ball. "Temper, temper," Kuja said, waving his finger. "Would you like to play a game?" he said, kneeling down next to Zidane. Zidane thought for a moment.
"Okay!"
Kuja smiled and lead him to a room where Zidane had never be before, the control room. "Okay, here's how you play," Kuja said, walking over to a glowing blue panel in the floor. "You step on this panel and count to one, then the next time you step on it you count to two, et cetera, then, whoever counts to ten first wins. You're going to go first," Kuja smiled.
"Sounds easy," Zidane said, he was too young to be suspicious. "All right, go ahead," Kuja said softly, standing aside. Without hesitation, Zidane hopped onto the glowing panel and started counting. "One," he shouted.
"Goodbye, Zidane," Kuja whispered. Zidane looked up at him in confusion, then down at his feet. They had already begun to fade. "Kuja! Help me!" Zidane screamed. Kuja just stood there, smiling. Within seconds, Zidane was nothing but a little wisp of a shadow. His little voice echoed throughout the room. "I did it," Kuja sighed in relief. Then he heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall. "Garland," Kuja gasped, and he quickly ran from the room back to his quarters. Garland knew what had happened. He tore down the hall towards Kuja's quarters, seeing his head poked out of his door, eyes filled with fear. Kuja ducked into the room, shut the door, and backed away against the wall. Garland smashed the door down and advanced on Kuja. He left the room fifteen minutes later, smiling, with Kuja's blood on his clothes.
* * *
"Oh, I remember that well," Kuja whispered to himself as the wind whipped through his hair. He turned and watched Burmecia fade in the distance. "I thought I'd never see him again…Why now?" He bowed his head and a tear ran down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away and looked up again. "No matter," he laughed to himself. "I'm more then enough to handle him, don't you think, Silver Dragon?" The dragon roared in reply. "Yes…I'll take care of him…" Kuja sat in though for a few moments.
"But how can I do it? How can I do it…?"
Disclaimer: I do not own FFIX (Nothing, I tell you!). Don't sue me.
Kuja stared at the tiny genome, eyes filled with silent rage. The little tail, the tuff of blonde hair…he was cute, all right.
"Well…?" Garland said, gently placing his hand on Kuja small shoulder.
"He's…wonderful." Kuja forced a smile. "Just wonderful."
"Yes…yes, he is…." Garland said more to himself then to anyone. Kuja turned without another word and slowly made his way to the door. "Kuja," Garland said, looking up at him. Kuja turned to face him, halfway out of the door. "He will replace you. When he comes of age, you will be destroyed. Enjoy your last years before Zidane takes your place."
Kuja's eyes opened wide and he hurried out of the room into his quarters. He paced around the small room, filled with fear. "What will I do?" he said aloud. "What will I do…?"
* * *
Kuja opened his eyes when he felt a slight pressure on his chest.
"'Morning, Kuja." Kuja gritted his teeth and sat up. "Get off me Zidane, you little rat," he growled as he shoved Zidane from his bed. Zidane sat on the floor and pouted. "I didn't do nothin'" he sniffed.
"No, no, don't cry," Kuja's voice became soft and sweet and he knelt down on the floor and hugged his brother. "You know what happens when you cry, don't you?"
Zidane smiled slyly. "You get a beatin'."
"That's right…. You don't want me to get beaten, do you?"
Zidane smiled again. He took a big breath and opened his mouth to scream, but Kuja quickly wrapped his arm around Zidane's head to muffle him. "If I get beaten, I won't be able to play with you," Kuja said. Zidane wrestled free of Kuja's grip. "You never play with me, anyway." He got up and slowly walked towards the door. Kuja sat silently on the floor, not sure if he would scream or not. Zidane stopped at the door and smiled wickedly, filling Kuja's heart with fear. "GARLAND! GARLAND!" Zidane screamed, running down the hall. Kuja shot up from the floor, hoping to stop Zidane before he was within Garland's earshot. "Zidane, come back!" he yelled as he sprinted down the hall. He was hoping to grab Zidane as he closed in, but all he saw ahead was Garland, with Zidane clinging innocently to his leg.
"O-ow…" Kuja whispered, slowly sitting up and putting his hand up to his head. Blood was seeping out of a gash above his eye and his cheek was a black and blue welt. He slowly ran his hands over his body, checking for injuries. He felt a sharp pain when he touched his stomach, and he could barely move his left leg. "A broken rib, maybe?" he said casually, leaning against the cold wall. He took deep breaths and waited…Not for anything in particular, he just waited. The door opened and in came Zidane, a small smile across his devilish face. "Get away from me," Kuja whispered, doing the best he could to turn away. "Kuja got a beatin'," Zidane sang softly, making his way across the room. "Kuja got a beatin'."
"I don't need you to tell me that," Kuja snarled, trying to think of a way to get Zidane to leave. "Why did you come?"
"I came to tell you that Garland said you're gonna die soon. Now that I'm four he doesn't need you anymore," Zidane smiled. Kuja lay back against the wall again, eyes closed. "Why?" he said, voice shaking. "I didn't…I don't…I can't…" he broke down into sobs and buried his face in his hands. Zidane had no idea what was going on, and he quickly left the room.
Two weeks later, Kuja was his old self again. His wounds were healed and he was dressed in nice clothes, sort of a reward for not getting making Zidane scream lately. He made his way down the hall, humming softly to himself. "Oh, Zidane, where are you?" he sang. He found Zidane sitting in a little corridor playing with a ball, pushing it against the wall, only to have it roll back into his hands. Zidane looked up when he heard Kuja's light footsteps behind him. "What d'you want?" he growled, going back to his ball. "Temper, temper," Kuja said, waving his finger. "Would you like to play a game?" he said, kneeling down next to Zidane. Zidane thought for a moment.
"Okay!"
Kuja smiled and lead him to a room where Zidane had never be before, the control room. "Okay, here's how you play," Kuja said, walking over to a glowing blue panel in the floor. "You step on this panel and count to one, then the next time you step on it you count to two, et cetera, then, whoever counts to ten first wins. You're going to go first," Kuja smiled.
"Sounds easy," Zidane said, he was too young to be suspicious. "All right, go ahead," Kuja said softly, standing aside. Without hesitation, Zidane hopped onto the glowing panel and started counting. "One," he shouted.
"Goodbye, Zidane," Kuja whispered. Zidane looked up at him in confusion, then down at his feet. They had already begun to fade. "Kuja! Help me!" Zidane screamed. Kuja just stood there, smiling. Within seconds, Zidane was nothing but a little wisp of a shadow. His little voice echoed throughout the room. "I did it," Kuja sighed in relief. Then he heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall. "Garland," Kuja gasped, and he quickly ran from the room back to his quarters. Garland knew what had happened. He tore down the hall towards Kuja's quarters, seeing his head poked out of his door, eyes filled with fear. Kuja ducked into the room, shut the door, and backed away against the wall. Garland smashed the door down and advanced on Kuja. He left the room fifteen minutes later, smiling, with Kuja's blood on his clothes.
* * *
"Oh, I remember that well," Kuja whispered to himself as the wind whipped through his hair. He turned and watched Burmecia fade in the distance. "I thought I'd never see him again…Why now?" He bowed his head and a tear ran down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away and looked up again. "No matter," he laughed to himself. "I'm more then enough to handle him, don't you think, Silver Dragon?" The dragon roared in reply. "Yes…I'll take care of him…" Kuja sat in though for a few moments.
"But how can I do it? How can I do it…?"