Chapter 25
Blank felt himself floating in a dark, red mist. No matter which way he looked, he could see nothing but red. Sometimes he thought he could sense shapes in the mist just beyond his vision, but they were indistinct, hazy, and faded back into the darkness whenever he tried to focus on them.
The mist was distressing, and not just because it obscured his vision. He felt it seeping into his lungs, and knew that it was poisoning him. Every breath he drew in, heavily laden with the mist, constricted his breathing painfully. He understood in some indefinable way that it was killing him. And he knew that it would not take much longer.
Blank tried to move his legs, to run out of the mist, perhaps towards the shapes, but as it had been each other time he tried, he couldn't seem to make his muscles work. He felt them stretch and work as they should, but his body did not seem to move.
It occurred to Blank that he was not wearing his blindfold. For a moment he considered the idea that his strange eyesight might be the cause of the mist, but then he quickly discarded the thought. Always before, whenever he had looked out with his uncovered eyes, he had seen swirling colors, and strange shapes, and other things that could not be defined by human senses. Never before had his vision been so clouded, let alone a single hue. So whatever was the cause of this, it was not his eyes.
But if his eyes were uncovered, then why was he seeing this? Could it be some apocalyptic future for Gaia? Was that the reason for the poisonous red mist? But if so, the mist should not have been able to hurt him, since it was only a vision. Had he somehow lost his sight altogether? The thought chilled him.
Very slowly, Blank became aware of a rushing noise, like water. He twisted his head, trying to discern where it was coming from, but it seemed to be everywhere. For a moment it seemed as though it was inside him, that perhaps the sound was only the blood rushing in his ears. But then, gradually, a dull, reflective light filtered in through the red mist; it was a lake.
Aware that he was no longer floating and had somehow been placed on firm ground, Blank walked towards the lake. When he neared the edge, he hesitated. He still heard the sound of running water. It couldn't possibly be coming from the lake, which was far too still to make such a noise. Hesitantly, Blank stepped forward until he felt the cold, lapping water at the tips of his feet. The mist thinned out over the lake, and as Blank peered into it, it dissipated completely, and Blank got his first glimpse of the waterfall.
It was not far out into the lake; indeed, the water didn't stretch back as far as he had assumed. About thirty feet away, a large rocky crag jutted out into the lake, and from there a beautiful stream of crystal clear water cascaded down into the lake. Smaller protruding rocks dotted the water around the cliff's edge, and on one of them, Blank caught a glimpse of a figure.
The person was sitting halfway down one of the rocks with calves half submerged in the water, and was facing away from him. The figure's long, white hair cascaded down the pale flesh of the back, and looked inordinately soft.
Suddenly, as if sensing Blank's presence, the figure turned, and Blank saw that it was Kuja sitting on the rock, completely nude. The other man's eyes pierced his, seeming to bore right down into his soul. Powerless to stop himself, Blank waded out into the water.
The slope of the ground under the water was not steep, and he had gotten nearly ten feet out before the water even came up to his knees. By twenty feet it was at his waist, and by the time he reached Kuja it was about halfway up his chest.
Kuja smiled at him and reached out a hand to draw him up onto the rock. Blank took the hand gratefully, glad to be out of the freezing water, which had begun to feel almost smothering. He sat himself next to Kuja and gazed into the man's eyes, captivated by the deep mystery within them. Kuja smiled once again and reached a hand out to place on Blank's cheek, drawing him in for a long, luxurious kiss.
As the kiss drew on, Blank felt the poisonous constriction in his lungs suddenly subside. It was as though Kuja's kiss was some cool nectar, and he delighted in the taste of it, leaning in for more. Kuja gladly obliged him, but then pulled back. Blank gazed questioningly at him, but Kuja simply smiled once more, a mischievous, enigmatic look gracing his features.
Blank opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but was suddenly halted as Kuja laid his hands across Blank's eyes. Blank was startled, and reached up to place his own hands over Kuja's. He was once again reminded that he was not wearing his blindfold, and he wondered how he could see Kuja so normally.
He closed his eyes under Kuja's hands and concentrated on the darkness behind the lids. It was different from the red of the mist. It was a familiar darkness. It was the darkness of sleep, of closed eyes. It was the same darkness that fell on everyone, this darkness of hibernation. And it was just as easy to lift. All you had to do was open your eyes...
Blank did so, and for a split second saw the ceiling of the bedroom as it appeared to everyone else before his vision was suddenly assaulted by the riotous color and strange information that he was used to with the lack of his blindfold. Hurriedly he closed his eyes again and placed a hand over them, groping around for the belt and pad he usually restrained his vision with.
Then suddenly he felt cool hands at his temples, and a soothing kiss on his forehead. He allowed the deft touch to remove the hand from his eyes and felt the belt being buckled once more around his head. Cautiously he opened his eyes behind the blindfold, and focused on the worried face of Kuja.
"How are you feeling?" Kuja asked him.
Blank shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge the residual foggy feeling he retained after waking. He vaguely remembered something about mist, and about water, but the details were already fading from his mind. "I feel alright. What happened?"
"You were bitten by a snow drake," Kuja told him. "You've been unconscious for nearly two weeks."
Blank's jaw dropped open in amazement. Two weeks? It couldn't possibly have been so long, could it? It seemed like just a few hours before that he had jumped between Kuja and the monster; he remembered that clearly.
"But, how? Why so long?"
Kuja stared determinedly at the blankets on the bed, refusing to meet Blank's gaze. His tail swept up and curled loosely about his waist; it was a protective gesture, and one Blank recognized from Zidane as guilt. "You should have died," Kuja said softly. "You almost did."
Blank stared at him in surprise, and Kuja continued. "Snow drake poison is usually fatal, but I knew of an antidote, so I traveled out to get it. Garnet and Eiko kept you alive until I could return. That's why you were unconscious for a week and a half; it took me that long to come back with the medicine."
"Thank you for doing that for me," Blank said, puzzled. "So then, what is it that you feel so guilty about?" Oops. He hadn't meant to ask that last question; it had just naturally slipped out.
Kuja started and for a second looked up and met his eyes. Blank could see in them a fear of being read so easily, and could also unmistakably see the deep guilt that he had suspected before Kuja looked back down again.
"It's my fault you got hurt," Kuja said. "That drake was trying to kill me, not you. You shouldn't have been put in such a horrible position."
"Nah, that's alright," Blank said dismissively. "I ended up okay, didn't I? And if you had been hurt, then none of us would have known where to go for the antidote. So there's no harm done in the long-"
"Zaruyon's dead," Kuja interrupted.
Blank stopped cold, his words dying on his lips. Zaruyon? That was Kuja's white dragon. But... dead? "How?" he managed.
"I was bitten by a drake up in the mountains," Kuja said. Blank could hear repressed tears in Kuja's voice and reached out boldly to stroke his tail. "Zaruyon gave me his life and his immunity to save me from the poison."
Blank felt a pang of sorrow at the loss of the dragon. He had come to like the beast, and even if he had never had the connection to it that Kuja did, he was still sorry to see the great animal go.
"I'm sorry, Kuja," he said.
Kuja wiped one sleeve hurriedly across his eyes and sniffed. "It's my fault," he said. "It's always my fault. Everyone I get close to gets hurt. Because I'm the Angel of Death. It's my fault."
"No. Kuja..." Blank moved himself so that he could lean closer to Kuja and stopped stroking Kuja's tail to lay the hand on his thigh. "Kuja, you can't blame yourself for this. You can't-"
At that moment, the door opened, and Zidane stepped into the room. Upon seeing Blank sitting up, he broke into a wide grin. "You're awake! Yeah!" He bounded forward and swept Blank into an enthusiastic hug. "Man, that's so great." He turned and called towards the hallway, "Hey, Dagger! Eiko! Everyone! Blank's awake!"
Blank had only a moment to notice the pain and self-recrimination in Kuja's eyes before he was swept up in the effusive greetings of his friends.