A/N: Bwa . . . Short chapter. Nothing important happens. Pretty useless.
But fun to write (and hopefully read) anyways . . . I have nothing to say .
. . Strange. Er . . . Thinking . . . Thinking . . . Thinking . . . Uh, I
guess the only thing to say is this chapter's sorta sappy and it may SEEM
like there's a little Beatrix/Kuja going on, but I want it known that I'm a
firm believer in sticking to canon couples, and thus it will forever remain
Beatrix/Steiner. Gomen . . .
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy now . . . but someday . . . *evil grin*
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"As memory may be a paradise from which we cannot be driven, it may also be a hell from which we cannot escape."
- John Lancaster Spalding, Aphorisms and Reflections
The hum of the airship filled the air like a swarm of bees. Citizens of Alexandria looked up in wonderment as the fabled Hilda Garde 3 of Lindblum glided gracefully overhead, brushing the gentle clouds as it wove its way towards the silent, regal airship docks. What madness had caused it to leave, they wondered. And what madness had brought it back?
Regent Cid and Lady Hilda were red in the face and severely flustered as they ran like madmen towards the docks. Upon hearing the familiar buzz of Cid's most prized airship, the two of them had raced urgently towards the hangars. Fear was written upon their faces as they neared, breaking their way through tourists (though there were significantly less after the attacks) and busy pedestrians at the port that day. Finally they were there, and they wrenched open the door hurriedly before the occupants of the Hilda Garde 3 had even had a chance to step out.
"Eiko!" Hilda cried, waiting anxiously for the door to open. There was a moment of nerve-wracking silence, and suddenly the port was thrown ajar with a hiss.
"Mother? Father?"
"Eiko!" Hilda raced forward, embracing her adopted daughter protectively as the ship's meager occupants piled out. Cid looked on fearfully as the weary travelers stumbled down the ramp.
"Oh, Uncle Cid . . .!" Garnet, upon spotting her good friend, leaped down the ramp and threw her arms around the Regent. "Thank Ramuh . . ."
Hilda lifted her face from Eiko's hair, surveying the crew with a strange look in her eyes.
". . . What is this . . .? One more is here than left, yet two of them are new . . . and one is missing . . ."
"We were attacked," Zidane said simply, sighing as his feet finally found the lovely, smooth floor. The other twelve occupants looked exhausted, and even Zidane - who was always so chipper - had dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in weeks.
". . . Attacked . . .? By what?" Cid queried.
"Snow monster," Amarant muttered. "That bitch,"
"She took Quina down with her . . ." Fratley intoned softly, wrapping a comforting arm gently around Freya's shoulder.
". . . And the body . . .?"
"We left it there," Beatrix responded. "To be buried when we have won . . ."
"B-but we rescued the two prisoners!" Vivi defended, trying to make light of the situation. Hilda nodded thoughtfully - perhaps doubtfully - then frowned.
"Wait . . . I see only one. The young maiden from the Outer Continent," Megan huddled fearfully near Zidane. The trauma had obviously not worn off yet. The others were whipping their heads around in confusion.
"Wh-where did that violet-eyed mage go?!" Steiner cried.
". . . She left . . ." Came a soft voice from the back of the crowd. Cid craned his neck to better see the person.
/. . . Kuja . . ./
Kuja was standing near the ship, his face downcast in sadness. Zidane scratched the back of his neck, blushing.
". . . And that was the other thing that happened . . ."
Lady Hilda cocked her head. "What?"
Kuja looked up slowly to reveal his bleached, glazed eyes. Hilda gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth.
"Oh my goodness! W-we must get him to Doctor Tot immediately!"
"It's no use," Beatrix muttered off-handedly. "The damage is permanent,"
". . . But . . ."
"I can still see," Kuja snarled slightly, not appreciating so many people talking about him at once. "So just . . . leave me alone . . ."
Hilda retreated from the subject, but couldn't help but wonder about it. Not one person seemed in the least bit concerned about Kuja other than herself and Cid. It was as if all of the crew had reached a mutual agreement: nothing had even happened. So strange . . .
"Well, we're gonna head on back," Zidane sighed, rubbing his face as if to scratch the exhaustion from it. "We need to at least get poor Megan situated. She still seems kinda . . . freaked," Zidane bit his lip, turning his head away from the young Summoner and muttering to Garnet, "I wonder what they did to her . . ." He had noticed the whip-like tears in the Summoner's clothing and the blood-stains upon her back. However, he, like everyone else, had chosen not to acknowledge it.
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Megan had gone immediately to Doctor Tot in the hopes that he had something to treat whip-cuts. He had, of course, and was more than willing to use his magic to help her. Zidane was glad that she, at least, seemed to be coming back to normal. In fact, within a day, the entire crew was beginning to revert back to their old ways once more. Free of the chains of cold and wilderness, they seemed happier than they had been in weeks. Only Kuja seemed not to have recovered. And that, Zidane understood . . .
Kuja gazed sadly out the window of his Alexandrian bedroom in the castle. He always seemed to be in a general slump. His tail lolled uselessly on the floor, and sometimes he appeared so lax the genome seemed to be asleep. Zidane was only concerned because of the poison Kuja had been injected with - and nearly died from - only about a day before. Sure, he seemed fine now. But what if the crud was still circulating in his system, invisible to the eye until it was too late?
So while Tot applied some herbs to Megan's torn shoulders, Zidane had a whispered conversation with the doctor.
"I don't know if it's just him or if he's still sick . . ." Zidane admitted as Tot inspected a particularly nasty gash near the nape of Megan's neck. Megan flinched when his feathered hands ghosted over it, but Zidane knew she had also flinched at his words.
"Well, Zidane . . . Being sad doesn't necessarily mean someone is infected with a fatal toxin . . ." Tot couldn't help but smirk slightly through his beak as he dabbed a piece of cotton over Megan's wounds. She clutched the front of her blouse over her chest tightly so the two males wouldn't see anything they shouldn't have.
"I know," Zidane scratched the back of his neck irritably. "But I mean, even for Kuja he's being REALLY depressed,"
"Zidane . . . he's blind. That's a depressing thing," Tot applied a pinch of magic to the wound, frowning. Megan flinched again and muttered something angrily under her breath.
"I-I know . . . But what if it's a vanity thing?!" Zidane queried nervously, shuffling his feet as he wandered aimlessly around Tot's office. "I mean, you know pretty-boy Kuja . . . He's a narcissist to the extreme . . . I'm just worried 's all . . ."
Tot chuckled softly to himself. "Did you ever stop to think maybe HE was worried?"
Megan coughed, but both Doctor Tot and Zidane were nearly positive they had heard a snort mingled in there somewhere. Zidane ignored her, though his fists had clenched without his realizing it.
"W-we're all worried . . ." Zidane mumbled. "We're not . . . doing very good this time around. Last time, we defeated Garland almost instantly. And we still had Kuja against us then . . . But this time, Garland seems so much stronger . . . Invincible, really. He's killed off one of us, blinded another, and I KNOW he's got something nasty in store for the rest of us . . . What if we don't win? What if all of Gaia perishes?"
Tot's eyes twinkled beneath his spectacles as he dabbed another raw gash on Megan's back. ". . . I don't think that's going to happen . . . Just let time take its course. Everything will be alright . . ."
Zidane sighed, gazing up into the darkness of the ceiling. "I wish I could agree with you, Tot . . . I wish I could agree . . ."
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Kuja didn't have to be present to know Zidane was talking about him. That darn brat, always poking his nose into places where it didn't belong. Kuja glared furiously out the window beside the door in the intricate entrance hall of the castle. He hadn't realized that he'd spoke aloud, however, until a soft voice drifted from the far end of the corridor.
". . . You really mustn't be angry with him. He's worried about you . . ."
Kuja blanched and turned around, finding himself face to face with one sad blue eye. Beatrix stepped forward cautiously, smiling.
"Why must you be so angry with Zidane? He's done nothing wrong . . ."
"I never said he did," Kuja snapped, looking away. "Why is everyone on my case? All we do is laze around this castle when we SHOULD be out trying to kill Garland,"
". . . We had to get Megan some treatment . . ."
Kuja snorted. "Did you see the way she looked at me when she saw my eyes? She looked so frightened . . . I bet she really enjoyed it,"
Beatrix lowered her gaze slowly. ". . . I've seen that look before . . ."
For a moment, Kuja paused, looking contemplative. Then he nodded.
"Your eye . . ."
". . . Yes . . . I was only fifteen when I lost it," Beatrix reached up dreamily and touched her silky eye-patch with one trembling hand.
"I'm very sorry for your loss," Kuja murmured. "Would it help if I said you still looked beautiful?"
Beatrix went stiff at his words and frowned. /So like the old Kuja . . . Is he really still in there somewhere; that dramatic, noble, graceful, narcissist of a man I once knew?/
Kuja tore himself from the window and came up to the general until they were facing one another. She looked up at him hesitantly, perhaps even with a bit of fright.
". . . Do you remember when we first met?" he queried softly.
Beatrix flushed. "Yes. You had come to speak with the queen and I tried to stop you at the gate; deny you passage,"
"Do you remember why you let me in?"
Beatrix hadn't realized for several moments that he was cupping her cheek with one delicate, white hand.
". . . No . . ."
"Because," Kuja breathed, bringing his face in close until his nose was brushing hers. "I thought you were beautiful . . . And I told you so. You were so shocked that you simply allowed me to pass you by. Nobody had ever said those words to you before. But they were not simply for the sake of manipulation. No, I hold true to every word I spoke,"
Beatrix felt herself hypnotized by Kuja's white, empty eyes. They were so unnatural . . . And so alluring . . . Kuja, still lifting the general's chin, now reached up with his other hand and touched the eye-patch. His fingers ghosted over it for a moment, then came to rest on the fold at the top. He began to pinch it when Beatrix flinched.
"Don't be scared . . ." Kuja whispered. "You cannot hide behind silk and cloth forever . . ." Then, with delicate, feathery care, Kuja pulled the eye-patch down until it rested like a loose piece of fabric around Beatrix's neck. Her eyes were closed, but at Kuja's soft touch, she opened them. Her right eye was the color of parchment; empty and unseeing. A thin scar ran from her eyebrow to the curve of her cheek, crossing ugly over her pupil. Yet Kuja smiled regardless, running his finger down the mark.
"You are still beautiful, Rose of May . . . Steiner is a very lucky man,"
Beatrix smirked. "He would not enjoy hearing those words from you,"
Kuja chuckled. "Indeed . . ."
Suddenly Beatrix whipped around at the sound of quiet footsteps hitting tile. Megan flashed the two of them a strange look as she glided down the corridor. What her destination was, they didn't know. However, Megan's eyes were accusing as she watched them, particularly when she noticed Beatrix's lowered eye-patch. Kuja, just for affect, made sure they made eye-contact. As Megan passed, they distinctly saw her shiver. Once she was out of sight, Beatrix turned back around with a sigh.
"You haven't said a word to her since we returned . . ."
"She hasn't made an effort, so I haven't made an effort," said Kuja curtly. Beatrix frowned.
"Don't you think this is all a little childish?"
"I killed her father,"
Beatrix lowered her gaze sadly and pulled her eye-patch back up, carefully setting it into place over her scar and damaged pupil.
". . . You still think of yourself as the villain, don't you?
Kuja smirked. "Perhaps . . . But there are so many sides to me fighting now. I don't even know if I really am Kuja anymore . . ."
Beatrix smiled faintly. "Somewhere in there you are . . . I can tell. Just . . . Promise me something . . . please . . ."
". . . What . . .?"
Beatrix closed her eye slowly and wrapped her arms around Kuja's waist. The general hugged him gently, sighing, and a small tear rolled down her cheek.
". . . Don't die . . ."
/Why is she saying this . . .?/
"Wh-what makes you think I'm going to die?"
Beatrix looked up at the young genome carefully, unable to find the right words for the situation. "I-I don't know . . . It's just this fear . . . Maybe I'm paranoid . . . And maybe I'm not . . . 'Cause Zidane feels it too . . ."
Kuja hesitated, a strange chill running up his spine.
". . . I won't die . . ."
Beatrix pulled back, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I-I'll be going now. Guard duty, you know . . ."
Kuja nodded, watching the graceful general twirl around with curly brown locks flying.
/. . . I won't die . . .?/
Kuja frowned, running his fingers nervously through his luxurious silver hair.
"Why did I cross my fingers when I said that . . .?"
Kuja shook his head as if to rid it of a headache and turned around, staring sadly at the door that lead out of Alexandria Castle.
"No fair . . ." he muttered, glaring at it. "You keep me in here . . . When you have absolutely no right . . ."
A sigh averted his attention away from the evil door.
"You know, you COULD go outside if your really wanted to . . ." Zidane's eyebrow was raised with annoyance and a hint of amusement.
Kuja laughed coldly. "Rules are rules . . ."
"Yeah, but Tot said you should go outside after being sick for so long . . . He went to Beatrix and got special permission . . ."
Kuja made a sour face. /So that's what's got Beatrix all worried . . . She thinks I'm still dying or something . . ./
"Well, if that is the case Little Brother, then I bid you adieu . . ." Kuja bore an expression of the utmost frustration and shoved the door open furiously. He gave Zidane one last death-beam before trekking away. Before he was out of ear-shot, he caught Zidane's last words.
"You're not allowed to go past the moat!!!"
"Oh, blow it out your . . ."
Kuja decided to keep his formal dignity in tact and shut his mouth.
Of course, the moat was nothing much to look at. But Kuja took advantage of this small glimpse of freedom and sat himself on the wall beside it. Somewhere between the slow, rather nauseating rolling of the waves and the sudden blast of sunlight that was hitting Kuja dead-on, he found himself extremely depressed. He sighed for a moment, not even entirely sure what saddened him so suddenly, when he heard a faint giggle from nearby. Whipping around nervously, Kuja leapt up on the wall and did a complete one- eighty. His tail twitched, ready for a fight, but nothing happened.
"What in the . . .? Huh?!"
There it was again; like a young girl laughing. Kuja lost his attack stance and replaced it with a slightly dumbfounded expression. One which became all the more shocked when Megan stepped into view in an EXTREMELY revealing dress.
"M-Megan . . .?"
Megan giggled, covering her mouth daintily with one hand as she stood a few feet away from the moat on the castle side. Her collar was dipped incredibly low and her dress - though reaching to the grass - was cut on one side almost completely up to her waist. Kuja was at a loss for words.
/Has she . . . finally snapped . . .?/
"Kuja!" Megan's voice was sing-song-like and very enticing. She beckoned him down, still laughing, and positioned herself as appealingly as she could. Kuja, without even realizing it, leapt off the wall and began to creep slowly towards the provocative woman.
"Megan, what in the name of Atomos do you think you're - ?"
He was abruptly cut off when Megan violently grabbed the sides of his face and dragged the sorcerer down in what was likely the most passionate kiss in Gaia's history. She pressed herself firmly against his body, despite Kuja's momentary struggle to free himself, and allowed her mouth to melt flawlessly into his. She ran her fingers through his silver hair, moaning with pure bliss. For a second, Kuja was too shocked to move. Then he found himself - as if he were hypnotized - sinking into her embrace. Damn, it felt good . . .
He sighed, closing his eyes, and allowed his arms to dangle over her shoulders. He was pretty sure they were going to wind up lying in the grass any minute . . .
Then he noticed the phantom movement of a nail-polished hand near Megan's leg. Kuja opened his eyes and nodded mentally to himself.
/As I thought . . ./
For several more seconds he allowed his pale lips to remain firmly implanted on Megan's. Then, suddenly, with a cry, Kuja used the position of his arms over her shoulders to whip the girl around and press her back against his chest, holding one strong arm firmly across her neck in a head- lock. She shrieked, then disappeared like smoke from his clutches. She reappeared a few feet away, looking flustered but incredibly proud of herself.
Megan grinned, giggling, and then her features began to shift and reform. Honey-colored hair became rich dark brown that flowed down to her waist. Legs lengthened several inches, and a tail sprouted from the back of her dress. Eyes reverted suddenly to electric green as the full-bodied figure of a geonome replaced it.
Kuja allowed a faint growl to rise in his throat. ". . . Lulian . . ."
He saw it now, on the leg where the dress was cut: a gun strapped against her burned skin, gleaming deadly and just waiting for the time when a bullet would slide slippery from its nozzle.
/Wicked . . ./
"Ah, so the Angel of Death is more intelligent than he appears . . ." Lulian crooned, smiling sweetly though her eyes remained piercing with malice. "It is to be expected,"
"So you came to seek revenge, did you now, Lulian?" Kuja queried smoothly, folding his arms across his chest and nodding towards the gun.
"That and a few other things," Lulian responded, smiling.
"Well, you failed, so get the hell out of here," Kuja snapped. Lulian beamed and her eyes darted towards the upper windows of the castle.
"Oh, the damage has been done . . ."
". . . What . . .?"
Kuja turned around, following Lulian's emerald gaze just in time to see someone dart out of a fourth-story window. He knew that honey-colored hair and glasses anywhere.
/Oh crap! Megan!/
Lulian chuckled. "Don't think she's gonna forgive you for this one lover- boy,"
Kuja whipped around furiously, whitened eyes blazing. "What the hell are you trying to accomplish?!"
"Isn't it obvious?" Lulian's voice was tinkling. "I'm keeping the comrades separated. Difficult to stop the bad-guy when you can't cooperate, isn't it?"
/. . . Shit . . ./
Lulian giggled, leaping backwards onto the moat wall.
"'fraid I must be going . . ." she sighed dramatically. "But I must say . . ." her eyes were glittering. "You are a VERY good kisser . . ."
And then she was gone in a puff of smoke, leaving Kuja standing there angry and dreading the inevitable at the same time . . .
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Megan sighed, throwing herself onto the bed in her Alexandrian bedroom. She just couldn't get those blank eyes out of her head . . . Every time she saw them they made her stomach seize up with cold fear. She wasn't sure if it was their appearance as much as her own guilt . . .
/He lost his eyesight rescuing me . . ./ Megan thought to herself.
/But he SO deserved it . . ./
/My fault . . ./
/His fault . . ./
/Why am I talking to myself?/
Megan sat up abruptly, sighing, and slid off the bed towards the window. The Summoner leaned tiredly against the ledge, allowing a soft breeze through the open glass to play with her hair.
"Hmm? Is that . . .?" Megan suddenly craned herself over the window, staring down towards the moat. It was! She knew that silver hair anywhere!
/Why are they letting him outside?! And who's that girl there?/
The "girl" was wearing a really obnoxious dress in Megan's opinion. /What a slut!/
And then, right before her very eyes - completely out of nowhere! - Kuja and the woman sunk into the most passionate kiss she'd ever seen in her life. She couldn't see Kuja, but she could just imagine what joy he was getting out of this.
/Oh . . . my . . .god . . ./
And then the tears began to fall. Megan didn't even realize it until she felt the soft drip against her hand. Reaching up carefully, she touched her face in horror.
"I'm . . . crying . . . Why?"
So much pain. Megan had never felt such pain in her life. She couldn't understand where it came from or what caused it, but it felt like her very heart was being torn in two.
"My god . . ." she stumbled back from the window, not even looking down at the couple below again, and fled.
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Drakja fingered the consoles of the Indomitable tensely. His . . . The ship was all his . . . Garland had gone back to the "secret base" and now Drakja was left in complete and utter command of the entire freaking ship . . .
"Oh man . . . This is way cool . . . I seriously have to take advantage of this . . ."
But how? What could he do now that he couldn't do before? Garland had always given him nearly one-hundred percent free-reign.
"Hmm . . . This is a toughie . . . Damn it . . . Where's Lulian when I need her?" Drakja scratched his head, the thought suddenly dawning on him that he hadn't seen the alpha-female in quite some time. "Ah, well . . ."
/Flash/
The reports, Drakja . . . You could open every book . . . Every cranny . . . And what would you discover?
/Flash/
Drakja blinked. "Well, that was weird . . . Should I listen to the disembodied phantom voice in my head or not?"
/Flash/
Nothing to lose . . .
/Flash/
"Yeah, that's true," Drakja nodded. "Ah, why the hell not?" The geonome whipped around and trotted from the control-room for the make-shift library of the ship only a few corridors down.
It was unnaturally dark there and Drakja shivered, opening the door slowly and slipping inside. It was cold . . . and spooky.
/That's the last time I listen to disembodied phantom voices in my head . . .!/
Drakja lifted a finger and allowed a small flame to spring to life on its tip. With the small circle of light it shed him, Drakja sunk into the dark chamber. Hundreds of books lined the cobwebbed walls, but Drakja knew exactly which book he was looking for . . .
Garland's diary reports of Terra . . .
It was there that he would find something he'd been trying to find for years. Garland had never told Drakja he couldn't read it, but somehow the book had always felt so forbidden . . . Like his hands would burn if he touched it.
And there it was, lying carelessly upon a table at the blackened end of the room. Drakja crept cautiously up to the structure and flipped the text over with the hand that didn't hold the flame.
"Yes . . ." he breathed. "This is it . . ."
Drakja blew slowly on the flame so that it disconnected from his finger and floated above the table, lighting it dimly. Then Drakja grasped the book with both hands and flipped hurriedly to the end . . . The last page . . .
/This should tell me . . ./ Drakja thought wildly. /Exactly how Saishoja died!/ He didn't know how he knew, but somehow the geonome felt deep within his heart that the last page was the key to everything: all the visions he'd seen, all the strange dejá vu's that came while fighting Kuja . . . Finally . . . an answer . . . Written in Garland's own words!
"I can't believe I'm witnessing this . . ." Drakja read Garland's written words aloud, frowning. "I have watched these two men for so long . . . And now, finally, they stand together. Drakja is trying to reason with Saishoja . . . But it is clear that Saishoja isn't interested . . ." Drakja skimmed the dialogue Garland recorded, interested only in the aftermath. "Ah, here we go," the alpha-male cleared his throat and continued. "I can't even fathom what is transpiring," At this point, the handwriting became frantic, wild, as if Garland were recording this in an excited, disbelieving manner. "Saishoja has turned his back on Drakja! It is as I feared. No peace will come between these two . . . No peace will return to Terra. We are surely doomed to an eternity of war . . . Drakja looks crestfallen . . . And . . ." a large pen gash suddenly crossed the page as if Garland had jerked with surprise. Drakja's brow furrowed.
"This is the most unbelievable thing ever!" Garland wrote frantically. "Even as I hide here now, Drakja has thrust a sword straight through Saishoja's back! There . . . There is blood everywhere! Saishoja . . . He's not dead, but the end of the blade is jutting from his chest . . . I see that girl from the camp . . . Madeline . . . she is screaming. Drakja is removing the blade. I cannot believe I am witnessing the death of Saishoja . . . But truly this is the end of all things. The people will not stand for this. This is the death of Terra. Saishoja . . . isn't dead still. He's lying in the grass. His blindfold is removed. Those eyes . . . So unearthly . . . And he's saying something. I . . . I can't believe this . . . Drakja is . . . Saishoja said . . . Oh my god . . ."
And then the book ended, unfinished, and the pen trailed off as if Garland had dropped it . . .
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Kuja threw open the doors of the castle furiously, storming inside so hard that he could have moved the floors.
"I HATE geonomes!" he shouted angrily, running his fingers through his silver hair. Then he stopped. "Oh no . . ."
Megan stood at the other end of the entrance hall, teary-eyed and with fists clenched at her sides. She was breathing heavily, blood-shot eyes boring menacingly into Kuja.
"M-Megan . . ." Kuja coughed and looked away. "Wh-what do you want?"
"You . . ." Megan snarled. "You son of a bitch! How DARE you!"
She stomped up to the sorcerer until she was staring straight up into his pale face.
"Megan, it's not what you . . ."
"How old was she, Kuja?!" Megan cried. "Fifteen?! Sixteen?! Just ripe?!"
"What - ?!"
Megan abruptly burst into tears, shoulders shaking with sobs. "You're a monster!" she cried tearfully. "You kill and you murder and then . . . and then you dally yourself with cute young girls, when . . ." /When what? When he has me?/
For a moment Kuja seemed slapped dumb. Then his blank white eyes flashed red and he grabbed Megan furiously by the wrists. He whipped her around and shoved her forcefully until her back was up against the wall. Then he brought his face in ever so close to hers, their noses brushing, his eyes wide and full of maniacal energy. Megan cowered with fear.
"Don't YOU accuse me of being a murderer!" Kuja snarled, yanking Megan's arms up over her head. "You have NO RIGHT! You who jump to god damn conclusions about every little bastard thing you see! You've left me alone thus far, SO WHY DON'T YOU STAY OUT OF MY GOD DAMN LIFE ALREADY?!!!"
Megan stared up into Kuja's mad eyes fearfully, and for a second she saw the murderer . . . the man whom she'd read about in the papers . . . The Angel of Death . . . The Dark Messenger . . . The violent warlock who had slaughtered thousands and smiled all the way. Kuja growled and gave Megan one last shove before backpedaling away from her like she was some kind of toxin.
"You make me sick . . ." he hissed.
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A/N: Whoa . . . I haven't written Kuja evil like that in a LONG time . . . I like it ^_^ He's good like that. Sorry for the short chapter. The next one should be a little longer. I think. *checks summary-draft* Yup. Should be. But damn it all I'm having a hard time figuring out how to space the next two chapters. It's either gonna be two REALLY short chapters . . . or one super, super long one. *sigh* I'm thinking about making it two . . . But we'll see . . . Whoo! I got a drawing tablet! *does a happy dance* Hey, my dad realized something funky today . . . If you take Ummei's name and do reverse Pig-Latin (like, pretend his name is IN Pig-Latin already) then his real name is Moo. First he was Fuzzy . . . Now he's Moo. *huggles Ummei* Poor Moo Moo . . .
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy now . . . but someday . . . *evil grin*
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"As memory may be a paradise from which we cannot be driven, it may also be a hell from which we cannot escape."
- John Lancaster Spalding, Aphorisms and Reflections
The hum of the airship filled the air like a swarm of bees. Citizens of Alexandria looked up in wonderment as the fabled Hilda Garde 3 of Lindblum glided gracefully overhead, brushing the gentle clouds as it wove its way towards the silent, regal airship docks. What madness had caused it to leave, they wondered. And what madness had brought it back?
Regent Cid and Lady Hilda were red in the face and severely flustered as they ran like madmen towards the docks. Upon hearing the familiar buzz of Cid's most prized airship, the two of them had raced urgently towards the hangars. Fear was written upon their faces as they neared, breaking their way through tourists (though there were significantly less after the attacks) and busy pedestrians at the port that day. Finally they were there, and they wrenched open the door hurriedly before the occupants of the Hilda Garde 3 had even had a chance to step out.
"Eiko!" Hilda cried, waiting anxiously for the door to open. There was a moment of nerve-wracking silence, and suddenly the port was thrown ajar with a hiss.
"Mother? Father?"
"Eiko!" Hilda raced forward, embracing her adopted daughter protectively as the ship's meager occupants piled out. Cid looked on fearfully as the weary travelers stumbled down the ramp.
"Oh, Uncle Cid . . .!" Garnet, upon spotting her good friend, leaped down the ramp and threw her arms around the Regent. "Thank Ramuh . . ."
Hilda lifted her face from Eiko's hair, surveying the crew with a strange look in her eyes.
". . . What is this . . .? One more is here than left, yet two of them are new . . . and one is missing . . ."
"We were attacked," Zidane said simply, sighing as his feet finally found the lovely, smooth floor. The other twelve occupants looked exhausted, and even Zidane - who was always so chipper - had dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in weeks.
". . . Attacked . . .? By what?" Cid queried.
"Snow monster," Amarant muttered. "That bitch,"
"She took Quina down with her . . ." Fratley intoned softly, wrapping a comforting arm gently around Freya's shoulder.
". . . And the body . . .?"
"We left it there," Beatrix responded. "To be buried when we have won . . ."
"B-but we rescued the two prisoners!" Vivi defended, trying to make light of the situation. Hilda nodded thoughtfully - perhaps doubtfully - then frowned.
"Wait . . . I see only one. The young maiden from the Outer Continent," Megan huddled fearfully near Zidane. The trauma had obviously not worn off yet. The others were whipping their heads around in confusion.
"Wh-where did that violet-eyed mage go?!" Steiner cried.
". . . She left . . ." Came a soft voice from the back of the crowd. Cid craned his neck to better see the person.
/. . . Kuja . . ./
Kuja was standing near the ship, his face downcast in sadness. Zidane scratched the back of his neck, blushing.
". . . And that was the other thing that happened . . ."
Lady Hilda cocked her head. "What?"
Kuja looked up slowly to reveal his bleached, glazed eyes. Hilda gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth.
"Oh my goodness! W-we must get him to Doctor Tot immediately!"
"It's no use," Beatrix muttered off-handedly. "The damage is permanent,"
". . . But . . ."
"I can still see," Kuja snarled slightly, not appreciating so many people talking about him at once. "So just . . . leave me alone . . ."
Hilda retreated from the subject, but couldn't help but wonder about it. Not one person seemed in the least bit concerned about Kuja other than herself and Cid. It was as if all of the crew had reached a mutual agreement: nothing had even happened. So strange . . .
"Well, we're gonna head on back," Zidane sighed, rubbing his face as if to scratch the exhaustion from it. "We need to at least get poor Megan situated. She still seems kinda . . . freaked," Zidane bit his lip, turning his head away from the young Summoner and muttering to Garnet, "I wonder what they did to her . . ." He had noticed the whip-like tears in the Summoner's clothing and the blood-stains upon her back. However, he, like everyone else, had chosen not to acknowledge it.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Megan had gone immediately to Doctor Tot in the hopes that he had something to treat whip-cuts. He had, of course, and was more than willing to use his magic to help her. Zidane was glad that she, at least, seemed to be coming back to normal. In fact, within a day, the entire crew was beginning to revert back to their old ways once more. Free of the chains of cold and wilderness, they seemed happier than they had been in weeks. Only Kuja seemed not to have recovered. And that, Zidane understood . . .
Kuja gazed sadly out the window of his Alexandrian bedroom in the castle. He always seemed to be in a general slump. His tail lolled uselessly on the floor, and sometimes he appeared so lax the genome seemed to be asleep. Zidane was only concerned because of the poison Kuja had been injected with - and nearly died from - only about a day before. Sure, he seemed fine now. But what if the crud was still circulating in his system, invisible to the eye until it was too late?
So while Tot applied some herbs to Megan's torn shoulders, Zidane had a whispered conversation with the doctor.
"I don't know if it's just him or if he's still sick . . ." Zidane admitted as Tot inspected a particularly nasty gash near the nape of Megan's neck. Megan flinched when his feathered hands ghosted over it, but Zidane knew she had also flinched at his words.
"Well, Zidane . . . Being sad doesn't necessarily mean someone is infected with a fatal toxin . . ." Tot couldn't help but smirk slightly through his beak as he dabbed a piece of cotton over Megan's wounds. She clutched the front of her blouse over her chest tightly so the two males wouldn't see anything they shouldn't have.
"I know," Zidane scratched the back of his neck irritably. "But I mean, even for Kuja he's being REALLY depressed,"
"Zidane . . . he's blind. That's a depressing thing," Tot applied a pinch of magic to the wound, frowning. Megan flinched again and muttered something angrily under her breath.
"I-I know . . . But what if it's a vanity thing?!" Zidane queried nervously, shuffling his feet as he wandered aimlessly around Tot's office. "I mean, you know pretty-boy Kuja . . . He's a narcissist to the extreme . . . I'm just worried 's all . . ."
Tot chuckled softly to himself. "Did you ever stop to think maybe HE was worried?"
Megan coughed, but both Doctor Tot and Zidane were nearly positive they had heard a snort mingled in there somewhere. Zidane ignored her, though his fists had clenched without his realizing it.
"W-we're all worried . . ." Zidane mumbled. "We're not . . . doing very good this time around. Last time, we defeated Garland almost instantly. And we still had Kuja against us then . . . But this time, Garland seems so much stronger . . . Invincible, really. He's killed off one of us, blinded another, and I KNOW he's got something nasty in store for the rest of us . . . What if we don't win? What if all of Gaia perishes?"
Tot's eyes twinkled beneath his spectacles as he dabbed another raw gash on Megan's back. ". . . I don't think that's going to happen . . . Just let time take its course. Everything will be alright . . ."
Zidane sighed, gazing up into the darkness of the ceiling. "I wish I could agree with you, Tot . . . I wish I could agree . . ."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Kuja didn't have to be present to know Zidane was talking about him. That darn brat, always poking his nose into places where it didn't belong. Kuja glared furiously out the window beside the door in the intricate entrance hall of the castle. He hadn't realized that he'd spoke aloud, however, until a soft voice drifted from the far end of the corridor.
". . . You really mustn't be angry with him. He's worried about you . . ."
Kuja blanched and turned around, finding himself face to face with one sad blue eye. Beatrix stepped forward cautiously, smiling.
"Why must you be so angry with Zidane? He's done nothing wrong . . ."
"I never said he did," Kuja snapped, looking away. "Why is everyone on my case? All we do is laze around this castle when we SHOULD be out trying to kill Garland,"
". . . We had to get Megan some treatment . . ."
Kuja snorted. "Did you see the way she looked at me when she saw my eyes? She looked so frightened . . . I bet she really enjoyed it,"
Beatrix lowered her gaze slowly. ". . . I've seen that look before . . ."
For a moment, Kuja paused, looking contemplative. Then he nodded.
"Your eye . . ."
". . . Yes . . . I was only fifteen when I lost it," Beatrix reached up dreamily and touched her silky eye-patch with one trembling hand.
"I'm very sorry for your loss," Kuja murmured. "Would it help if I said you still looked beautiful?"
Beatrix went stiff at his words and frowned. /So like the old Kuja . . . Is he really still in there somewhere; that dramatic, noble, graceful, narcissist of a man I once knew?/
Kuja tore himself from the window and came up to the general until they were facing one another. She looked up at him hesitantly, perhaps even with a bit of fright.
". . . Do you remember when we first met?" he queried softly.
Beatrix flushed. "Yes. You had come to speak with the queen and I tried to stop you at the gate; deny you passage,"
"Do you remember why you let me in?"
Beatrix hadn't realized for several moments that he was cupping her cheek with one delicate, white hand.
". . . No . . ."
"Because," Kuja breathed, bringing his face in close until his nose was brushing hers. "I thought you were beautiful . . . And I told you so. You were so shocked that you simply allowed me to pass you by. Nobody had ever said those words to you before. But they were not simply for the sake of manipulation. No, I hold true to every word I spoke,"
Beatrix felt herself hypnotized by Kuja's white, empty eyes. They were so unnatural . . . And so alluring . . . Kuja, still lifting the general's chin, now reached up with his other hand and touched the eye-patch. His fingers ghosted over it for a moment, then came to rest on the fold at the top. He began to pinch it when Beatrix flinched.
"Don't be scared . . ." Kuja whispered. "You cannot hide behind silk and cloth forever . . ." Then, with delicate, feathery care, Kuja pulled the eye-patch down until it rested like a loose piece of fabric around Beatrix's neck. Her eyes were closed, but at Kuja's soft touch, she opened them. Her right eye was the color of parchment; empty and unseeing. A thin scar ran from her eyebrow to the curve of her cheek, crossing ugly over her pupil. Yet Kuja smiled regardless, running his finger down the mark.
"You are still beautiful, Rose of May . . . Steiner is a very lucky man,"
Beatrix smirked. "He would not enjoy hearing those words from you,"
Kuja chuckled. "Indeed . . ."
Suddenly Beatrix whipped around at the sound of quiet footsteps hitting tile. Megan flashed the two of them a strange look as she glided down the corridor. What her destination was, they didn't know. However, Megan's eyes were accusing as she watched them, particularly when she noticed Beatrix's lowered eye-patch. Kuja, just for affect, made sure they made eye-contact. As Megan passed, they distinctly saw her shiver. Once she was out of sight, Beatrix turned back around with a sigh.
"You haven't said a word to her since we returned . . ."
"She hasn't made an effort, so I haven't made an effort," said Kuja curtly. Beatrix frowned.
"Don't you think this is all a little childish?"
"I killed her father,"
Beatrix lowered her gaze sadly and pulled her eye-patch back up, carefully setting it into place over her scar and damaged pupil.
". . . You still think of yourself as the villain, don't you?
Kuja smirked. "Perhaps . . . But there are so many sides to me fighting now. I don't even know if I really am Kuja anymore . . ."
Beatrix smiled faintly. "Somewhere in there you are . . . I can tell. Just . . . Promise me something . . . please . . ."
". . . What . . .?"
Beatrix closed her eye slowly and wrapped her arms around Kuja's waist. The general hugged him gently, sighing, and a small tear rolled down her cheek.
". . . Don't die . . ."
/Why is she saying this . . .?/
"Wh-what makes you think I'm going to die?"
Beatrix looked up at the young genome carefully, unable to find the right words for the situation. "I-I don't know . . . It's just this fear . . . Maybe I'm paranoid . . . And maybe I'm not . . . 'Cause Zidane feels it too . . ."
Kuja hesitated, a strange chill running up his spine.
". . . I won't die . . ."
Beatrix pulled back, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I-I'll be going now. Guard duty, you know . . ."
Kuja nodded, watching the graceful general twirl around with curly brown locks flying.
/. . . I won't die . . .?/
Kuja frowned, running his fingers nervously through his luxurious silver hair.
"Why did I cross my fingers when I said that . . .?"
Kuja shook his head as if to rid it of a headache and turned around, staring sadly at the door that lead out of Alexandria Castle.
"No fair . . ." he muttered, glaring at it. "You keep me in here . . . When you have absolutely no right . . ."
A sigh averted his attention away from the evil door.
"You know, you COULD go outside if your really wanted to . . ." Zidane's eyebrow was raised with annoyance and a hint of amusement.
Kuja laughed coldly. "Rules are rules . . ."
"Yeah, but Tot said you should go outside after being sick for so long . . . He went to Beatrix and got special permission . . ."
Kuja made a sour face. /So that's what's got Beatrix all worried . . . She thinks I'm still dying or something . . ./
"Well, if that is the case Little Brother, then I bid you adieu . . ." Kuja bore an expression of the utmost frustration and shoved the door open furiously. He gave Zidane one last death-beam before trekking away. Before he was out of ear-shot, he caught Zidane's last words.
"You're not allowed to go past the moat!!!"
"Oh, blow it out your . . ."
Kuja decided to keep his formal dignity in tact and shut his mouth.
Of course, the moat was nothing much to look at. But Kuja took advantage of this small glimpse of freedom and sat himself on the wall beside it. Somewhere between the slow, rather nauseating rolling of the waves and the sudden blast of sunlight that was hitting Kuja dead-on, he found himself extremely depressed. He sighed for a moment, not even entirely sure what saddened him so suddenly, when he heard a faint giggle from nearby. Whipping around nervously, Kuja leapt up on the wall and did a complete one- eighty. His tail twitched, ready for a fight, but nothing happened.
"What in the . . .? Huh?!"
There it was again; like a young girl laughing. Kuja lost his attack stance and replaced it with a slightly dumbfounded expression. One which became all the more shocked when Megan stepped into view in an EXTREMELY revealing dress.
"M-Megan . . .?"
Megan giggled, covering her mouth daintily with one hand as she stood a few feet away from the moat on the castle side. Her collar was dipped incredibly low and her dress - though reaching to the grass - was cut on one side almost completely up to her waist. Kuja was at a loss for words.
/Has she . . . finally snapped . . .?/
"Kuja!" Megan's voice was sing-song-like and very enticing. She beckoned him down, still laughing, and positioned herself as appealingly as she could. Kuja, without even realizing it, leapt off the wall and began to creep slowly towards the provocative woman.
"Megan, what in the name of Atomos do you think you're - ?"
He was abruptly cut off when Megan violently grabbed the sides of his face and dragged the sorcerer down in what was likely the most passionate kiss in Gaia's history. She pressed herself firmly against his body, despite Kuja's momentary struggle to free himself, and allowed her mouth to melt flawlessly into his. She ran her fingers through his silver hair, moaning with pure bliss. For a second, Kuja was too shocked to move. Then he found himself - as if he were hypnotized - sinking into her embrace. Damn, it felt good . . .
He sighed, closing his eyes, and allowed his arms to dangle over her shoulders. He was pretty sure they were going to wind up lying in the grass any minute . . .
Then he noticed the phantom movement of a nail-polished hand near Megan's leg. Kuja opened his eyes and nodded mentally to himself.
/As I thought . . ./
For several more seconds he allowed his pale lips to remain firmly implanted on Megan's. Then, suddenly, with a cry, Kuja used the position of his arms over her shoulders to whip the girl around and press her back against his chest, holding one strong arm firmly across her neck in a head- lock. She shrieked, then disappeared like smoke from his clutches. She reappeared a few feet away, looking flustered but incredibly proud of herself.
Megan grinned, giggling, and then her features began to shift and reform. Honey-colored hair became rich dark brown that flowed down to her waist. Legs lengthened several inches, and a tail sprouted from the back of her dress. Eyes reverted suddenly to electric green as the full-bodied figure of a geonome replaced it.
Kuja allowed a faint growl to rise in his throat. ". . . Lulian . . ."
He saw it now, on the leg where the dress was cut: a gun strapped against her burned skin, gleaming deadly and just waiting for the time when a bullet would slide slippery from its nozzle.
/Wicked . . ./
"Ah, so the Angel of Death is more intelligent than he appears . . ." Lulian crooned, smiling sweetly though her eyes remained piercing with malice. "It is to be expected,"
"So you came to seek revenge, did you now, Lulian?" Kuja queried smoothly, folding his arms across his chest and nodding towards the gun.
"That and a few other things," Lulian responded, smiling.
"Well, you failed, so get the hell out of here," Kuja snapped. Lulian beamed and her eyes darted towards the upper windows of the castle.
"Oh, the damage has been done . . ."
". . . What . . .?"
Kuja turned around, following Lulian's emerald gaze just in time to see someone dart out of a fourth-story window. He knew that honey-colored hair and glasses anywhere.
/Oh crap! Megan!/
Lulian chuckled. "Don't think she's gonna forgive you for this one lover- boy,"
Kuja whipped around furiously, whitened eyes blazing. "What the hell are you trying to accomplish?!"
"Isn't it obvious?" Lulian's voice was tinkling. "I'm keeping the comrades separated. Difficult to stop the bad-guy when you can't cooperate, isn't it?"
/. . . Shit . . ./
Lulian giggled, leaping backwards onto the moat wall.
"'fraid I must be going . . ." she sighed dramatically. "But I must say . . ." her eyes were glittering. "You are a VERY good kisser . . ."
And then she was gone in a puff of smoke, leaving Kuja standing there angry and dreading the inevitable at the same time . . .
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Megan sighed, throwing herself onto the bed in her Alexandrian bedroom. She just couldn't get those blank eyes out of her head . . . Every time she saw them they made her stomach seize up with cold fear. She wasn't sure if it was their appearance as much as her own guilt . . .
/He lost his eyesight rescuing me . . ./ Megan thought to herself.
/But he SO deserved it . . ./
/My fault . . ./
/His fault . . ./
/Why am I talking to myself?/
Megan sat up abruptly, sighing, and slid off the bed towards the window. The Summoner leaned tiredly against the ledge, allowing a soft breeze through the open glass to play with her hair.
"Hmm? Is that . . .?" Megan suddenly craned herself over the window, staring down towards the moat. It was! She knew that silver hair anywhere!
/Why are they letting him outside?! And who's that girl there?/
The "girl" was wearing a really obnoxious dress in Megan's opinion. /What a slut!/
And then, right before her very eyes - completely out of nowhere! - Kuja and the woman sunk into the most passionate kiss she'd ever seen in her life. She couldn't see Kuja, but she could just imagine what joy he was getting out of this.
/Oh . . . my . . .god . . ./
And then the tears began to fall. Megan didn't even realize it until she felt the soft drip against her hand. Reaching up carefully, she touched her face in horror.
"I'm . . . crying . . . Why?"
So much pain. Megan had never felt such pain in her life. She couldn't understand where it came from or what caused it, but it felt like her very heart was being torn in two.
"My god . . ." she stumbled back from the window, not even looking down at the couple below again, and fled.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Drakja fingered the consoles of the Indomitable tensely. His . . . The ship was all his . . . Garland had gone back to the "secret base" and now Drakja was left in complete and utter command of the entire freaking ship . . .
"Oh man . . . This is way cool . . . I seriously have to take advantage of this . . ."
But how? What could he do now that he couldn't do before? Garland had always given him nearly one-hundred percent free-reign.
"Hmm . . . This is a toughie . . . Damn it . . . Where's Lulian when I need her?" Drakja scratched his head, the thought suddenly dawning on him that he hadn't seen the alpha-female in quite some time. "Ah, well . . ."
/Flash/
The reports, Drakja . . . You could open every book . . . Every cranny . . . And what would you discover?
/Flash/
Drakja blinked. "Well, that was weird . . . Should I listen to the disembodied phantom voice in my head or not?"
/Flash/
Nothing to lose . . .
/Flash/
"Yeah, that's true," Drakja nodded. "Ah, why the hell not?" The geonome whipped around and trotted from the control-room for the make-shift library of the ship only a few corridors down.
It was unnaturally dark there and Drakja shivered, opening the door slowly and slipping inside. It was cold . . . and spooky.
/That's the last time I listen to disembodied phantom voices in my head . . .!/
Drakja lifted a finger and allowed a small flame to spring to life on its tip. With the small circle of light it shed him, Drakja sunk into the dark chamber. Hundreds of books lined the cobwebbed walls, but Drakja knew exactly which book he was looking for . . .
Garland's diary reports of Terra . . .
It was there that he would find something he'd been trying to find for years. Garland had never told Drakja he couldn't read it, but somehow the book had always felt so forbidden . . . Like his hands would burn if he touched it.
And there it was, lying carelessly upon a table at the blackened end of the room. Drakja crept cautiously up to the structure and flipped the text over with the hand that didn't hold the flame.
"Yes . . ." he breathed. "This is it . . ."
Drakja blew slowly on the flame so that it disconnected from his finger and floated above the table, lighting it dimly. Then Drakja grasped the book with both hands and flipped hurriedly to the end . . . The last page . . .
/This should tell me . . ./ Drakja thought wildly. /Exactly how Saishoja died!/ He didn't know how he knew, but somehow the geonome felt deep within his heart that the last page was the key to everything: all the visions he'd seen, all the strange dejá vu's that came while fighting Kuja . . . Finally . . . an answer . . . Written in Garland's own words!
"I can't believe I'm witnessing this . . ." Drakja read Garland's written words aloud, frowning. "I have watched these two men for so long . . . And now, finally, they stand together. Drakja is trying to reason with Saishoja . . . But it is clear that Saishoja isn't interested . . ." Drakja skimmed the dialogue Garland recorded, interested only in the aftermath. "Ah, here we go," the alpha-male cleared his throat and continued. "I can't even fathom what is transpiring," At this point, the handwriting became frantic, wild, as if Garland were recording this in an excited, disbelieving manner. "Saishoja has turned his back on Drakja! It is as I feared. No peace will come between these two . . . No peace will return to Terra. We are surely doomed to an eternity of war . . . Drakja looks crestfallen . . . And . . ." a large pen gash suddenly crossed the page as if Garland had jerked with surprise. Drakja's brow furrowed.
"This is the most unbelievable thing ever!" Garland wrote frantically. "Even as I hide here now, Drakja has thrust a sword straight through Saishoja's back! There . . . There is blood everywhere! Saishoja . . . He's not dead, but the end of the blade is jutting from his chest . . . I see that girl from the camp . . . Madeline . . . she is screaming. Drakja is removing the blade. I cannot believe I am witnessing the death of Saishoja . . . But truly this is the end of all things. The people will not stand for this. This is the death of Terra. Saishoja . . . isn't dead still. He's lying in the grass. His blindfold is removed. Those eyes . . . So unearthly . . . And he's saying something. I . . . I can't believe this . . . Drakja is . . . Saishoja said . . . Oh my god . . ."
And then the book ended, unfinished, and the pen trailed off as if Garland had dropped it . . .
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Kuja threw open the doors of the castle furiously, storming inside so hard that he could have moved the floors.
"I HATE geonomes!" he shouted angrily, running his fingers through his silver hair. Then he stopped. "Oh no . . ."
Megan stood at the other end of the entrance hall, teary-eyed and with fists clenched at her sides. She was breathing heavily, blood-shot eyes boring menacingly into Kuja.
"M-Megan . . ." Kuja coughed and looked away. "Wh-what do you want?"
"You . . ." Megan snarled. "You son of a bitch! How DARE you!"
She stomped up to the sorcerer until she was staring straight up into his pale face.
"Megan, it's not what you . . ."
"How old was she, Kuja?!" Megan cried. "Fifteen?! Sixteen?! Just ripe?!"
"What - ?!"
Megan abruptly burst into tears, shoulders shaking with sobs. "You're a monster!" she cried tearfully. "You kill and you murder and then . . . and then you dally yourself with cute young girls, when . . ." /When what? When he has me?/
For a moment Kuja seemed slapped dumb. Then his blank white eyes flashed red and he grabbed Megan furiously by the wrists. He whipped her around and shoved her forcefully until her back was up against the wall. Then he brought his face in ever so close to hers, their noses brushing, his eyes wide and full of maniacal energy. Megan cowered with fear.
"Don't YOU accuse me of being a murderer!" Kuja snarled, yanking Megan's arms up over her head. "You have NO RIGHT! You who jump to god damn conclusions about every little bastard thing you see! You've left me alone thus far, SO WHY DON'T YOU STAY OUT OF MY GOD DAMN LIFE ALREADY?!!!"
Megan stared up into Kuja's mad eyes fearfully, and for a second she saw the murderer . . . the man whom she'd read about in the papers . . . The Angel of Death . . . The Dark Messenger . . . The violent warlock who had slaughtered thousands and smiled all the way. Kuja growled and gave Megan one last shove before backpedaling away from her like she was some kind of toxin.
"You make me sick . . ." he hissed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Whoa . . . I haven't written Kuja evil like that in a LONG time . . . I like it ^_^ He's good like that. Sorry for the short chapter. The next one should be a little longer. I think. *checks summary-draft* Yup. Should be. But damn it all I'm having a hard time figuring out how to space the next two chapters. It's either gonna be two REALLY short chapters . . . or one super, super long one. *sigh* I'm thinking about making it two . . . But we'll see . . . Whoo! I got a drawing tablet! *does a happy dance* Hey, my dad realized something funky today . . . If you take Ummei's name and do reverse Pig-Latin (like, pretend his name is IN Pig-Latin already) then his real name is Moo. First he was Fuzzy . . . Now he's Moo. *huggles Ummei* Poor Moo Moo . . .