A/N: Oh my goodness! I got three reviews for the first chapter! I'm sorry
to say but that's the best I've ever gotten! Freaky . . . Well, I sure
hope I get that lucky this time. Whaddya say people? Three more? Four?
Please? I'd be very happy! You know the drill . . . Anyhow, this chapter
might seem a little confusing but it will make sense later as the story
goes on. I've already started work on the third chapter so if you people
want more, than just tell me ^_^ Read and Review! And have fun!
Disclaimer: I don't even own half the concepts in this chapter . . . Damn . . .
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"Alone for awhile . . . I've been searching through the dark . . . For . . . traces of the love you left . . . inside my lonely heart . . . To weave . . . by picking out the pieces that . . . remain . . . melodies . . . of life . . . love's lost . . . refrain . . ."
Zidane stopped, his eyes glistening. There was a moment of silence before he broke down entirely. It had taken awhile for the weight of the situation to finally hit him but now that it had he couldn't keep it in any longer. The tears began to pour down his face, spilling over his cheeks and dropping with little splashes onto his bleeding, dirty hands.
"Damn . . . Damn it . . ." Zidane spluttered, rubbing at his eyes. "Stupid . . . Stupid tree . . . Stupid . . . promises . . . stupid . . . stupid brother . . . stupid, stupid, stupid . . ."
He pulled his legs in and buried his face in his knees, crying to himself. He did not realize that someone else was listening.
"Zidane . . ." he heard the voice whisper faintly. "Don't . . . stop . . . singing . . ."
Zidane blinked and raised his head, eyes red from crying.
" . . . What?"
The response was so strained, the young genome hardly heard it.
"Keep . . . singing . . ."
Zidane pulled himself onto his knees, pressing on his hands as he leaned forward slightly.
"Kuja?" he whispered, hesitating. Zidane listened for any sign that he wasn't talking to himself.
"Zidane . . ." he heard the other person mumble.
Zidane drew his breath in quickly, sucking upon the stale air of the Iifa Tree, and crawled towards his brother. When he was close enough to see the older man more clearly, he was crestfallen by the sight.
Kuja was lying upon the bed of roots that made up their prison, his body resembling that of a chewed up rag doll. His beautiful silvery hair was strewn out around him, tangled and matted with dirt. His clothes were shredded, the sleeves nothing more than red, soaked tatters. His skin was caked in mud, just as Zidane's was, and the roots beneath him were drenched in shiny crimson blood. The once vibrant young sorcerer's eyes were clenched shut tightly in pain. Zidane could see from the bruises covering Kuja's torso that his brother was bleeding internally . . .
"Oh geez, Kuja," Zidane nearly sobbed, closing the gap between himself and his injured sibling. He brushed some of Kuja's hair out of his face, peering sympathetically into the young warlock's eyes. Kuja turned his face away from the touch, mumbling something uncomprehensible.
Zidane didn't know what else to do. His brother was going to die . . . The thought was so painful he just wanted to scream. But that wasn't going to help any. After a moment of silence in which all that could be heard was Kuja's ragged breathing, Zidane carefully laid himself down next to his brother and turned onto his side away from the first angel of death, sniffling. He hugged himself miserably, tears pouring silently down his face. He wasn't sure how long the two of them lay there like that before Zidane heard Kuja's choked request from next to him.
"Keep . . . singing . . ." Kuja croaked, his eyes opening slowly. They were pale; dead. There was no life left within him.
"Why . . .?" Zidane sputtered bitterly, staring at the wall of roots across from him. They reminded the blonde of prison bars. They would never let him out. "I can't sing anymore, Kuja. I'm sorry . . ."
"Sing . . ." Kuja nearly whined, his voice cracking. "Sing . . ."
"I can't . . ."
Kuja whimpered and Zidane was suddenly struck by how horrible their end would be. Memories of his brother's former glory (and his own) flooded back upon him, washing his eyes of all their tears.
/Flash/
I will present you a marvelous display of my power. I am certain you will be most pleased.
/Flash/
"Kuja?" Zidane whispered, his eyes blurring as he gazed at the inner heart of the Iifa Tree.
/Flash/
I'm not done telling how to make soulless toys out of the dregs of souls.
/Flash/
"Kuja, I'm sorry,"
"Don't be . . ."
"No, I am. I should have gotten us out of the Iifa Tree before it sealed itself. I failed . . ."
/Flash/
Lives come and go all the time. What's the big deal?
/Flash/
Zidane felt as if something were ripping his chest out, pulling at his ribcage and trying to break it. There was a pressure building there that he desperately wanted to release.
/Flash/
The body becomes a vessel, which greets a new soul.
/Flash/
"No . . . I don't want a new soul . . ."
Kuja said nothing. He knew what Zidane was thinking.
"I want . . . to live . . ."
Kuja coughed. Zidane could smell the blood.
"I want . . . Dagger!"
/Flash/
No . . . You're not being selfish. You've done so much for us. If it weren't for you, I probably would've led a meaningless life. With you, I was able to see so much of the world and meet so many people. We faced many hardships, too . . . but . . . I think I finally know what's important. I'm so fortunate to have met you. I'll never forget our trip together. Thank you, Zidane. Promise me one thing . . . Please come back.
/Flash/
"I . . . I failed everyone . . ."
Zidane felt Kuja's tail brush the back of his legs as it swept along the ground. The young genome thought about his friends. Those he would never see again. He thought about Freya and Vivi. Steiner and Eiko. And yes, he even thought about Quina and Amarant. How sad they had been when he left. And for what? Kuja was as good as dead. His injuries were fatal. The whole thing was fatal. What would Dagger say? Would she be lonely the rest of her life? Would she forget about her old "boyfriend" and marry another man? Would she love him?
"Our paths, they did cross . . . Though I cannot say . . . just why . . . We met . . . we laughed . . . we held on fast . . . and then we said . . . goodbye . . ."
As the words gushed forth from Zidane's mouth, flowing from the very source of agony within his chest, the young genome heard another voice joining his own - a voice so weak, it could hardly carry a tune.
"And who'll hear the echoes . . . of stories . . . never told . . . Let them ring . . . out loud . . . till they . . . unfold . . ."
Zidane knew that voice anywhere.
"Kuja?" he whispered, blinking away the liquid burning in the back of his eyes. "Kuja, don't strain yourself. Really - "
"In my dearest memories . . . I see you . . . reaching out to me . . ."
Zidane hesitated, frowning. Then joined his brother once more.
"Though you're gone . . . I still believe that you can call . . . out my name . . ."
Their voices echoed off the walls, reverberating within the mossy chamber. The roots seemed to retreat slightly with their harmony.
"The voice from the past . . . joining yours . . . and mine . . . adding up the layers . . . of harmony . . . and so it goes . . . on and on . . ."
"So it goes . . . on and on . . ." Kuja echoed quietly.
"Melodies of life . . . to the sky . . . beyond the . . . flying birds . . ."
Kuja coughed and Zidane waited for his brother to finish. He clenched his knuckles as he heard the sorcerer choke upon his own life's blood.
"Forever and beyond . . ."
There was a pause. The words seemed to give strength to the dying young man. His eyes cleared slightly. "And if I should leave . . . this lonely world behind . . . your voice will still remember . . . our melody . . . Now I know we'll . . . carry on . . . Melodies of life . . . come circling round and grow deep . . . in our hearts . . ."
They both stopped singing, waiting to see which one would finish the song. Kuja could not. Zidane did so for him.
"As long as we remember . . ."
They lapsed into silence. Kuja was gasping for breath, just from the effort of speaking. Zidane curled his tail around his own ankle to comfort himself.
"Kuja . . . How do you know that song?" he inquired, a small frown upon his face. "I thought only the summoners knew it. I mean, I learned it from Dagger - er - Garnet,"
Kuja shifted uncomfortably next to his brother and sighed.
"They sang it when their village was destroyed . . ." he responded simply.
Zidane knitted his brow together, not understanding. "What do you mean, they sang it when their village was destroyed?"
Kuja took a deep gulp of air. "When the Invincible burned their village . . . many of them sang it . . . It gave them hope . . . Though none was left . . ."
Zidane still did not understand. "How would you know this?"
He was surprised to hear Kuja let out a small sob.
"I did it . . ." he choked out, his shoulders shaking as he began to cry.
"Kuja, what are you talking - "
"I did it . . ." Kuja repeated faintly. "I destroyed their village . . . I was fourteen years old . . . Garland made me . . . I'm so sorry! I wanted to tell the queen . . . and the little summoner . . . but . . . but . . ." his voice faded into tears, something Zidane never would have expected from the first angel of death. He bit his lip, waiting for the silver-haired man to calm down.
"Kuja, do you have any magic left?" he asked once Kuja had settled back to snuffling; bleary eyed, wishing desperately that he had an ether handy.
"None . . ." Kuja whispered, wiping at his eyes with one gnarled hand. Zidane bit his lip harder, trying to think more clearly.
"How are we going to get out of here?" he wondered aloud, rolling onto his back and staring up at the mossy ceiling. Kuja remained silent, his tail tapping the ground gently.
"You know," the elder interjected. "If you would . . . No, I couldn't,"
"Couldn't what?" Zidane threw his brother a suspicious glance. Kuja let out a shuddering sigh.
"Well, if you'd let me, I might have just enough magic left to cast Osmose on you. . ."
Zidane's brow creased. "What do you mean? You're going to drain magic from me?"
"Well . . . yeah . . . But it would leave you very weak. And . . . I don't know if it would give me enough. I might become weak also," the warlock shook his head, wincing in pain. "Just forget it; it's too risky,"
Zidane sat up quickly, brushing the dirt off his vest.
"Well, Kuja, that's a chance I'm willing to take,"
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"Zidane? Zidane! You didn't answer my question,"
"Wh-wha - ?"
"You didn't answer my question,"
"Dagger . . ."
"What happened in the Iifa Tree?"
"Dagger, please, not now . . ."
"Zidane . . . What happened in the Iifa Tree . . .?"
The blonde-haired genome glanced away from the young woman cuddled up against him, biting his lip once more. It seemed to have become a habit over the past few years and his lips were forever scarred and chapped. His previously resting arm came up to his face as he rubbed irritably at his eyes. Queen Garnet stared up at him hopefully, a rather forceful expression carved into her features.
"Zidane - "
/Flash/
Kuja? Kuja, where are you?! KUJA!
/Flash/
"Listen, Dagger," Zidane tried to explain, curling a strand of her beautiful coffee-colored hair around his finger. "It's really not something I want to talk about. I mean, I just got back. Cut me some slack . . . please . . .?"
Garnet frowned, narrowing her eyes slightly. However, she couldn't help but give in. It was true: he was back. And that was all that really mattered. But still, she couldn't help but wonder . . .
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Kuja stared at himself in the mirror. His hair was pulled back into a rather severe ponytail. It was kind of nice. Kind of cute. Kind of . . . not Kuja . . . But that was a good thing. Kuja was gone. Kuja had died. Not in the Iifa Tree. No, he had not been granted such luck. He had died later. During the journey. He shuddered. Mrs. Yorokobi, who was applying make-up to her face nearby, noticed.
"What's the matter Feather?" she asked kindly though a faint hint of rash "motherness" remained in her tone. The people of the village - Katei - had affectionately nicknamed the silver-tailed genome "Feather." He thought the name suited him considering his past but had found it annoying at first. It sounded like something you'd name your pet bird. Which he most certainly was not . . . However, he had gotten used to the label and even come to like it. After all, his real name remained a mystery to them . . .
"It's nothing," Kuja muttered, tilting his head to the side as he stared into the depths of the glass. "Just thinking . . ."
"About what?" Mrs. Yorokobi moved in front of the frame herself, staring curiously at her own reflection next to him. She was a very graceful woman accentuated by curly blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun and pretty blue eyes. Small crows-feet were already forming around them from stress. But she still remained just as fair and beautiful as always. Kuja acknowledged vaguely to himself that she was the kind of woman he would have taken advantage of only a few years before. But not as much as he would have "enjoyed" her daughter . . .
He quickly shook the thought out of his head and stared back into the mirror, frowning distastefully. Mrs. Yorokobi narrowed her eyes, grimacing slightly.
"Feather . . ."
"Hmm?"
"Who are you?"
The question took the young sorcerer by surprise and he quickly cast a sharp look at the older woman. However, he remembered suddenly that he was no longer like that - sharp and stern - and his expression softened.
"Why do you ask?" he queried lightly, raising his chin inquisitively. Mrs. Yorokobi shook her head, sighing.
"It's just . . . that first day . . . when you came to Katei,"
Kuja shut his eyes, taking a deep breath and releasing it. He wished he could just erase that whole event from the past.
/Flash/
Blook-soaked hands, curling in the dirt, shuddering.
/Flash/
Mrs. Yorokobi continued, ignoring the young man's silence.
"It just seemed so . . . strange," she whispered, tapping her chin thoughtfully with one finger. "You seemed to come out of nowhere. And you never told us anything about yourself. You plead amnesia but we all know it's not true,"
Kuja's lids snapped up abruptly.
"I had a brother," he said suddenly, feeling the heat in the back of his eyes. Mrs. Yorokobi stared at him.
"That was random," she commented, a faint smile twitching at the corners of her lips. Kuja just continued to stare at his reflection blankly.
He yanked the ponytail out and let his hair fall limply over his shoulders once more.
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A/N: Well, that was fun! Kind of strange, yes, but still fun. And there will be more on Kuja's strange "entrance" later. It's actually kind of sad. Whoa . . . I just realized Megan's not in this chapter! Shoot! She's one of the main characters! Mrs. Yorokobi's not even a side-kick! Oh well, I'll stick her in the next . . . wait a second . . . I can't! The third chapter . . . well . . . no . . . Gah! I must get Megan in more somehow! *sigh* Okay. Read and review! At least three more reviews would be nice but I'll take even more if you want, hehe . . .
Disclaimer: I don't even own half the concepts in this chapter . . . Damn . . .
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"Alone for awhile . . . I've been searching through the dark . . . For . . . traces of the love you left . . . inside my lonely heart . . . To weave . . . by picking out the pieces that . . . remain . . . melodies . . . of life . . . love's lost . . . refrain . . ."
Zidane stopped, his eyes glistening. There was a moment of silence before he broke down entirely. It had taken awhile for the weight of the situation to finally hit him but now that it had he couldn't keep it in any longer. The tears began to pour down his face, spilling over his cheeks and dropping with little splashes onto his bleeding, dirty hands.
"Damn . . . Damn it . . ." Zidane spluttered, rubbing at his eyes. "Stupid . . . Stupid tree . . . Stupid . . . promises . . . stupid . . . stupid brother . . . stupid, stupid, stupid . . ."
He pulled his legs in and buried his face in his knees, crying to himself. He did not realize that someone else was listening.
"Zidane . . ." he heard the voice whisper faintly. "Don't . . . stop . . . singing . . ."
Zidane blinked and raised his head, eyes red from crying.
" . . . What?"
The response was so strained, the young genome hardly heard it.
"Keep . . . singing . . ."
Zidane pulled himself onto his knees, pressing on his hands as he leaned forward slightly.
"Kuja?" he whispered, hesitating. Zidane listened for any sign that he wasn't talking to himself.
"Zidane . . ." he heard the other person mumble.
Zidane drew his breath in quickly, sucking upon the stale air of the Iifa Tree, and crawled towards his brother. When he was close enough to see the older man more clearly, he was crestfallen by the sight.
Kuja was lying upon the bed of roots that made up their prison, his body resembling that of a chewed up rag doll. His beautiful silvery hair was strewn out around him, tangled and matted with dirt. His clothes were shredded, the sleeves nothing more than red, soaked tatters. His skin was caked in mud, just as Zidane's was, and the roots beneath him were drenched in shiny crimson blood. The once vibrant young sorcerer's eyes were clenched shut tightly in pain. Zidane could see from the bruises covering Kuja's torso that his brother was bleeding internally . . .
"Oh geez, Kuja," Zidane nearly sobbed, closing the gap between himself and his injured sibling. He brushed some of Kuja's hair out of his face, peering sympathetically into the young warlock's eyes. Kuja turned his face away from the touch, mumbling something uncomprehensible.
Zidane didn't know what else to do. His brother was going to die . . . The thought was so painful he just wanted to scream. But that wasn't going to help any. After a moment of silence in which all that could be heard was Kuja's ragged breathing, Zidane carefully laid himself down next to his brother and turned onto his side away from the first angel of death, sniffling. He hugged himself miserably, tears pouring silently down his face. He wasn't sure how long the two of them lay there like that before Zidane heard Kuja's choked request from next to him.
"Keep . . . singing . . ." Kuja croaked, his eyes opening slowly. They were pale; dead. There was no life left within him.
"Why . . .?" Zidane sputtered bitterly, staring at the wall of roots across from him. They reminded the blonde of prison bars. They would never let him out. "I can't sing anymore, Kuja. I'm sorry . . ."
"Sing . . ." Kuja nearly whined, his voice cracking. "Sing . . ."
"I can't . . ."
Kuja whimpered and Zidane was suddenly struck by how horrible their end would be. Memories of his brother's former glory (and his own) flooded back upon him, washing his eyes of all their tears.
/Flash/
I will present you a marvelous display of my power. I am certain you will be most pleased.
/Flash/
"Kuja?" Zidane whispered, his eyes blurring as he gazed at the inner heart of the Iifa Tree.
/Flash/
I'm not done telling how to make soulless toys out of the dregs of souls.
/Flash/
"Kuja, I'm sorry,"
"Don't be . . ."
"No, I am. I should have gotten us out of the Iifa Tree before it sealed itself. I failed . . ."
/Flash/
Lives come and go all the time. What's the big deal?
/Flash/
Zidane felt as if something were ripping his chest out, pulling at his ribcage and trying to break it. There was a pressure building there that he desperately wanted to release.
/Flash/
The body becomes a vessel, which greets a new soul.
/Flash/
"No . . . I don't want a new soul . . ."
Kuja said nothing. He knew what Zidane was thinking.
"I want . . . to live . . ."
Kuja coughed. Zidane could smell the blood.
"I want . . . Dagger!"
/Flash/
No . . . You're not being selfish. You've done so much for us. If it weren't for you, I probably would've led a meaningless life. With you, I was able to see so much of the world and meet so many people. We faced many hardships, too . . . but . . . I think I finally know what's important. I'm so fortunate to have met you. I'll never forget our trip together. Thank you, Zidane. Promise me one thing . . . Please come back.
/Flash/
"I . . . I failed everyone . . ."
Zidane felt Kuja's tail brush the back of his legs as it swept along the ground. The young genome thought about his friends. Those he would never see again. He thought about Freya and Vivi. Steiner and Eiko. And yes, he even thought about Quina and Amarant. How sad they had been when he left. And for what? Kuja was as good as dead. His injuries were fatal. The whole thing was fatal. What would Dagger say? Would she be lonely the rest of her life? Would she forget about her old "boyfriend" and marry another man? Would she love him?
"Our paths, they did cross . . . Though I cannot say . . . just why . . . We met . . . we laughed . . . we held on fast . . . and then we said . . . goodbye . . ."
As the words gushed forth from Zidane's mouth, flowing from the very source of agony within his chest, the young genome heard another voice joining his own - a voice so weak, it could hardly carry a tune.
"And who'll hear the echoes . . . of stories . . . never told . . . Let them ring . . . out loud . . . till they . . . unfold . . ."
Zidane knew that voice anywhere.
"Kuja?" he whispered, blinking away the liquid burning in the back of his eyes. "Kuja, don't strain yourself. Really - "
"In my dearest memories . . . I see you . . . reaching out to me . . ."
Zidane hesitated, frowning. Then joined his brother once more.
"Though you're gone . . . I still believe that you can call . . . out my name . . ."
Their voices echoed off the walls, reverberating within the mossy chamber. The roots seemed to retreat slightly with their harmony.
"The voice from the past . . . joining yours . . . and mine . . . adding up the layers . . . of harmony . . . and so it goes . . . on and on . . ."
"So it goes . . . on and on . . ." Kuja echoed quietly.
"Melodies of life . . . to the sky . . . beyond the . . . flying birds . . ."
Kuja coughed and Zidane waited for his brother to finish. He clenched his knuckles as he heard the sorcerer choke upon his own life's blood.
"Forever and beyond . . ."
There was a pause. The words seemed to give strength to the dying young man. His eyes cleared slightly. "And if I should leave . . . this lonely world behind . . . your voice will still remember . . . our melody . . . Now I know we'll . . . carry on . . . Melodies of life . . . come circling round and grow deep . . . in our hearts . . ."
They both stopped singing, waiting to see which one would finish the song. Kuja could not. Zidane did so for him.
"As long as we remember . . ."
They lapsed into silence. Kuja was gasping for breath, just from the effort of speaking. Zidane curled his tail around his own ankle to comfort himself.
"Kuja . . . How do you know that song?" he inquired, a small frown upon his face. "I thought only the summoners knew it. I mean, I learned it from Dagger - er - Garnet,"
Kuja shifted uncomfortably next to his brother and sighed.
"They sang it when their village was destroyed . . ." he responded simply.
Zidane knitted his brow together, not understanding. "What do you mean, they sang it when their village was destroyed?"
Kuja took a deep gulp of air. "When the Invincible burned their village . . . many of them sang it . . . It gave them hope . . . Though none was left . . ."
Zidane still did not understand. "How would you know this?"
He was surprised to hear Kuja let out a small sob.
"I did it . . ." he choked out, his shoulders shaking as he began to cry.
"Kuja, what are you talking - "
"I did it . . ." Kuja repeated faintly. "I destroyed their village . . . I was fourteen years old . . . Garland made me . . . I'm so sorry! I wanted to tell the queen . . . and the little summoner . . . but . . . but . . ." his voice faded into tears, something Zidane never would have expected from the first angel of death. He bit his lip, waiting for the silver-haired man to calm down.
"Kuja, do you have any magic left?" he asked once Kuja had settled back to snuffling; bleary eyed, wishing desperately that he had an ether handy.
"None . . ." Kuja whispered, wiping at his eyes with one gnarled hand. Zidane bit his lip harder, trying to think more clearly.
"How are we going to get out of here?" he wondered aloud, rolling onto his back and staring up at the mossy ceiling. Kuja remained silent, his tail tapping the ground gently.
"You know," the elder interjected. "If you would . . . No, I couldn't,"
"Couldn't what?" Zidane threw his brother a suspicious glance. Kuja let out a shuddering sigh.
"Well, if you'd let me, I might have just enough magic left to cast Osmose on you. . ."
Zidane's brow creased. "What do you mean? You're going to drain magic from me?"
"Well . . . yeah . . . But it would leave you very weak. And . . . I don't know if it would give me enough. I might become weak also," the warlock shook his head, wincing in pain. "Just forget it; it's too risky,"
Zidane sat up quickly, brushing the dirt off his vest.
"Well, Kuja, that's a chance I'm willing to take,"
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"Zidane? Zidane! You didn't answer my question,"
"Wh-wha - ?"
"You didn't answer my question,"
"Dagger . . ."
"What happened in the Iifa Tree?"
"Dagger, please, not now . . ."
"Zidane . . . What happened in the Iifa Tree . . .?"
The blonde-haired genome glanced away from the young woman cuddled up against him, biting his lip once more. It seemed to have become a habit over the past few years and his lips were forever scarred and chapped. His previously resting arm came up to his face as he rubbed irritably at his eyes. Queen Garnet stared up at him hopefully, a rather forceful expression carved into her features.
"Zidane - "
/Flash/
Kuja? Kuja, where are you?! KUJA!
/Flash/
"Listen, Dagger," Zidane tried to explain, curling a strand of her beautiful coffee-colored hair around his finger. "It's really not something I want to talk about. I mean, I just got back. Cut me some slack . . . please . . .?"
Garnet frowned, narrowing her eyes slightly. However, she couldn't help but give in. It was true: he was back. And that was all that really mattered. But still, she couldn't help but wonder . . .
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Kuja stared at himself in the mirror. His hair was pulled back into a rather severe ponytail. It was kind of nice. Kind of cute. Kind of . . . not Kuja . . . But that was a good thing. Kuja was gone. Kuja had died. Not in the Iifa Tree. No, he had not been granted such luck. He had died later. During the journey. He shuddered. Mrs. Yorokobi, who was applying make-up to her face nearby, noticed.
"What's the matter Feather?" she asked kindly though a faint hint of rash "motherness" remained in her tone. The people of the village - Katei - had affectionately nicknamed the silver-tailed genome "Feather." He thought the name suited him considering his past but had found it annoying at first. It sounded like something you'd name your pet bird. Which he most certainly was not . . . However, he had gotten used to the label and even come to like it. After all, his real name remained a mystery to them . . .
"It's nothing," Kuja muttered, tilting his head to the side as he stared into the depths of the glass. "Just thinking . . ."
"About what?" Mrs. Yorokobi moved in front of the frame herself, staring curiously at her own reflection next to him. She was a very graceful woman accentuated by curly blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun and pretty blue eyes. Small crows-feet were already forming around them from stress. But she still remained just as fair and beautiful as always. Kuja acknowledged vaguely to himself that she was the kind of woman he would have taken advantage of only a few years before. But not as much as he would have "enjoyed" her daughter . . .
He quickly shook the thought out of his head and stared back into the mirror, frowning distastefully. Mrs. Yorokobi narrowed her eyes, grimacing slightly.
"Feather . . ."
"Hmm?"
"Who are you?"
The question took the young sorcerer by surprise and he quickly cast a sharp look at the older woman. However, he remembered suddenly that he was no longer like that - sharp and stern - and his expression softened.
"Why do you ask?" he queried lightly, raising his chin inquisitively. Mrs. Yorokobi shook her head, sighing.
"It's just . . . that first day . . . when you came to Katei,"
Kuja shut his eyes, taking a deep breath and releasing it. He wished he could just erase that whole event from the past.
/Flash/
Blook-soaked hands, curling in the dirt, shuddering.
/Flash/
Mrs. Yorokobi continued, ignoring the young man's silence.
"It just seemed so . . . strange," she whispered, tapping her chin thoughtfully with one finger. "You seemed to come out of nowhere. And you never told us anything about yourself. You plead amnesia but we all know it's not true,"
Kuja's lids snapped up abruptly.
"I had a brother," he said suddenly, feeling the heat in the back of his eyes. Mrs. Yorokobi stared at him.
"That was random," she commented, a faint smile twitching at the corners of her lips. Kuja just continued to stare at his reflection blankly.
He yanked the ponytail out and let his hair fall limply over his shoulders once more.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Well, that was fun! Kind of strange, yes, but still fun. And there will be more on Kuja's strange "entrance" later. It's actually kind of sad. Whoa . . . I just realized Megan's not in this chapter! Shoot! She's one of the main characters! Mrs. Yorokobi's not even a side-kick! Oh well, I'll stick her in the next . . . wait a second . . . I can't! The third chapter . . . well . . . no . . . Gah! I must get Megan in more somehow! *sigh* Okay. Read and review! At least three more reviews would be nice but I'll take even more if you want, hehe . . .