Edonil: Somebody commented on 'goshdanggit'. I actually do say things like this when I'm talking. Maybe I'll throw in another of my favourite phrases in this chapter…
Disclaimer/Claimer: Why am I doing this? You already know I don't own FFIX, but do own Crims, Saniiro, Avylonn, and Sarah.
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To Change
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Saniiro felt miserable. Spending the day with Avylonn, he had managed to stave off memories, but… Why had Kuja survived? It wasn't fair! Evil men like Kuja didn't deserve life! The living should be kind, caring, loving…
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"Mother?" Thirteen-year-old Saniiro looked around. He couldn't see her anywhere. "Mother?" Still no sign of her. "Father?" There were many people, but he couldn't see his parents. Odd.
He was at a party. It was the first one his parents had agreed to take him to. Usually he was left at home while they were out. But they thought he was old enough… But where were they? Perhaps they were hidden by the crowd. Maybe they were talking to the host, Kuja. The host scared Saniiro. He was dressed funny. He wore make-up. What kind of guy wore make-up? But Saniiro had politely said hello. As his parents frequently reminded him, young nobles in Treno didn't last long if they weren't polite.
Saniiro spotted one of his father's friends. What was his name…? Goro Katashi. That was it!
"Excuse me, Mr. Katashi. Do you know where my parents are?" Mr. Katashi smiled down at him.
"I saw them talking with Mr. Kuja a few moments ago… Oh, were was that…? I think they were standing near the entrance."
"Thank you, Mr. Katashi." Saniiro headed for the door.
His parents weren't there. Odd. Looking around, Saniiro noticed that the host of the party was gone, too. Very odd. People didn't just up and vanish! Curious, Saniiro looked out through the doorway; perhaps his parents had gone for a walk. The streets was empty. No, not quite; a bit of red cloth was caught on the streetlight at the corner.
Red cloth. Like his mother had been wearing.
Saniiro ran over to the corner. He could see his parents now. And Kuja. He had found them.
But he wished he hadn't.
His parents were dead, lying in a pool of blood. Kuja stood over them, his hands upraised, red lights swirling around him. He was laughing maniacally, giggling uncontrollably, as if nothing were wrong. Or as if he were a madman.
The light slowly faded out, and Kuja looked down at the corpses. "That is the price for knowledge," he whispered to their staring, lifeless eyes. Then suddenly Kuja looked up, straight at Saniiro.
"Hello, Little Boy. Are these your parents? Would you like to join them?"
Saniiro did the only thing his thirteen-year-old mind could conceive; he fled.
Kuja's laughter echoed after him.
Edonil: Sorry about the shortness. Quality over quantity, right? Please R&R!