A/N: Chapter six, fwee! Lots and lots of thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. Reviews keep me alive. And Rappy28/Twilidra, it's funny you should mention yans, because... well, you'll see. In about ten chapters or so. Ha! Okay, enough of my blatherings. I'm sure you just want to read this already.
Disclaimer: I do not own 'Final Fantasy IX' or any of its characters. Any songs or references to other things belong to the people who own them. Obviously.
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Requiem for an Angel
a Final Fantasy IX fanfiction
by Wakizashi
Chapter Six: Cupid's Arrows
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After the sandstorm, running into Jack, convincing Doctor Tot to help them, and persuading him to let them stay the night at his house, trying to find a weapon shop in Treno was the least difficult part of Kuja and Claire's journey so far. They were literally everywhere. The only problem was that Claire had no idea which weapon would suit her best. The spears, broadswords, and axes looked far too heavy for her, but the staffs and rackets seemed like they would be ineffectual in battle. And some of the weapons, like the flutes and forks, looked to Claire like they weren't meant to be weapons at all. Nevertheless, Kuja refused to leave Treno until she selected one.
"Why do I need a weapon, anyway?" she asked him impatiently in her strange New York accent as they stood inside a synthesist shop. "You don't have a weapon."
"That is because I don't need one," he answered absently, examining a display of claws. He debated whether a pair of Cat's Claws would be suitable for her, but decided she didn't possess the physical force necessary to inflict enough damage with them.
Claire stared at him in shock. "You don't need a weapon?" she repeated, dumbfounded. "How the heck do you fight without a weapon?"
"Ah, such innocence," sighed Jack, who was swinging his own curved sword experimentally.
"I fight with magic, of course," said Kuja, turning to her. "Surely you have noticed, little bird, that I have quite an assortment of spells in my arsenal. Each spell has its own specific purpose. Nearly everyone on Gaia has some amount of magic dwelling inside them. But since you are from Earth, it remains to be seen whether or not the same is true of you. Thus, you require a weapon."
Claire raised a dark eyebrow at him. "I think you have a fixation with birds."
She looked as though she understood, at least enough to get by, so he returned his attention to the array of weapons. Claire was definitely strong enough to use a staff or a racket, but they were primarily for people who relied on magic. She might be able to use a dagger, he reflected, but again, would she have the necessary force?
A dagger...
---
"Dagger," the boy groaned, his tail twitching in pain. "Dagger, don't go. I need you... Dagger..."
Kuja Tribal knelt beside him, wiping the blood from his wounds with the sleeve he had torn off his own shirt. The boy was unconscious, but his face was troubled, and he ranted and raved in his delirium. It was still not clear if Kuja could save him.
As the Iifa Tree had been caving in on itself, Kuja had resigned himself to death. There was nothing left for him; death was an appropriate reward for all he had done. With total chaos crashing down around him, he had closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable.
And then the irrational one had showed up.
"Hey!" came a sudden voice, surprisingly close and unnecessarily loud. "Are you alright?"
Bewildered, Kuja opened his eyes to see a boy of about sixteen, with shaggy blond hair and a long tawny tail, standing across a short gap from him. "Zidane...?" he said weakly as the boy jumped across and stood next to him. "What are you doing here? I thought I told you to go..."
Zidane shrugged indifferently. "Wouldn't you do the same for me if you knew I was dying?" he asked. Kuja thought about it, and had to admit to himself that he probably wouldn't. Zidane shook his head and sat down at his side. "...Never mind."
Kuja was silent for a while, staring up with dull eyes. "Your comrades were able to escape?" he finally asked.
"Yeah..." Zidane nodded. "I knew you had something to do with it."
He felt something foreign to him at that moment, and realized that it was relief. "...I'm glad they made it," he said softly.
"Yeah, well..." The boy brushed it off casually and changed the subject. "It's our turn to get movin'."
Kuja closed his eyes for a moment as a wave of pain swept over him, threatening to render him unconscious. Once it had passed, he spoke. "...I don't deserve to live after all I've done," he said bleakly. "I'm useless to this world."
"No one's useless," Zidane countered with another shrug. "You helped us escape, remember?"
Zidane. Always so positive. In a bizarre way, Kuja was proud of him. Proud that he had become more than what he had been designed for. But he didn't understand. He wasn't the one who had grown up on Terra, who had been trained to do nothing but destroy. It was the only existence Kuja had known. And Zidane had escaped it.
"After you guys beat me," Kuja found himself saying, "I had nothing left... nothing more to lose. Then, I finally realized what it means to live..." He sighed, overwhelmingly tired. Tired of living. "I guess I was too late."
Another surge of pain flooded his senses, and his vision grew a foggy gray at the edges. This is it, he thought with a dreary acceptance as his eyes slipped shut. His head drooped to one side, and as the world fell away, he heard Zidane shouting, as if from miles away:
"Hey! Don't you go dying on me, alright?"
But he hadn't died. Zidane had carried him, unconscious, out of the collapsing ruins of the Iifa Tree. When Kuja again opened his eyes, he saw the endless expanse of sky above him, clear and blue and beautiful. And beside him, out cold from his injuries and from pure exhaustion, lay his brother.
Kuja had had only enough magic left in him to perform one Cure spell, and he used it on Zidane without hesitation. The boy had sustained a massive blow to his head, and there were countless cuts and bruises on his limbs. Carefully cleaning his wounds, Kuja watched as Zidane tossed and mumbled fitfully, and he waited, and he prayed.
"Dagger... Where are you...?"
---
"Kuja? Are you okay?"
He shook himself out of his thoughts to see Claire staring up at him under his hood, a concerned expression on her delicate little face. "Yes," he said hastily, forgetting at the moment that she had called him by his name in public. "I was just... lost in thought."
"Unfamiliar territory, eh?" Jack asked sarcastically.
Kuja restrained himself from casting Flare Star on the four-armed nuisance and went back to surveying the weapons. Suddenly his eyes fell upon a bow made of blond wood, propped up against a quiver of arrows. He picked it up and hefted it; it was sturdy, but light enough for a smaller person to wield. "Claire," he said, holding it out to her.
She looked at it for a moment, then took it from him slowly. "A bow?" she said uncertainly. "I've never used a bow before. I've never even held one."
He turned to the synthesist. "Is there any way we could test this weapon out?"
"Of course," the man said politely. "There is a practicing range behind the shop, through the door in the back."
Picking up the quiver, Kuja stepped behind the counter and through the back door, gesturing for Claire to follow him. Jack trailed behind, uninvited.
They stood in a long, rectangular yard, closed in by high brick walls and lit with bright lanterns. At the far end of the yard was a target made of straw, with a brightly painted bull's-eye on the front of it. After pulling an arrow from the quiver and setting it on the ground to one side, Kuja took the bow from Claire, fitted the arrow, and pulled the string taut. "Look through the sight here when you aim," he told her, "and keep both of your eyes open." He quickly aimed and released the arrow, and there was a whizzing sound as it cut through the air and hit the target one ring out from the bull's-eye.
Jack whistled appreciatively, two of his arms folded. "Not bad, Kuj."
Claire stared up at him, agape. "How do you know how to do that?" she asked in astonishment.
"I used to be a weapons dealer," Kuja replied vaguely. "Now," he prompted, handing her the bow and selecting another arrow, "make sure to keep the head of the arrow fast against the sight. And keep your arm parallel to your body."
She fitted the arrow carefully and pulled it back, both her arms trembling with the effort of bending the bow. Jack's golden eyes widened, and he took a few steps back for safety. Training the sight on the target, Claire held her breath and let go.
The arrow struck the bull's-eye dead-center.
"Whoa!" Jack blurted, blinking in disbelief. "Did you just see that?"
Kuja merely smiled approvingly at Claire, who had turned to him, her brown eyes wide. "Congratulations, Claire," he said. "You're a natural."
---
Strolling beside Kuja as the three of them left the entrance to Treno behind, her new bow and quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder, Claire shook her head in wonderment. "I still can't believe it," she said with a laugh. "Who would have ever thought I'd have any talent at archery? My little brother Richie would say I'm a regular Legolas."
Kuja frowned at her, puzzled. "A what?"
She shook her head, her short dark hair bouncing. "Never mind."
They walked for a while in silence, and then Kuja was aware that she was lingering behind. He stopped and looked at her over his shoulder. "What is it?" he asked.
She answered with another question. "Where are we going? Didn't we leave Silver Dragon over there?" She pointed across the dark field.
"I sent Silver Dragon back to the palace last night, while you were asleep," he replied. "We're not taking it to Alexandria. And we're not taking a gargant, either, which we could have done at Doctor Tot's. We're traveling to Alexandria on foot."
"What? How come? And what's a gargant?"
"Oh, you'd like them, sweetheart," Jack said with a smirk as he sidled up to her. "They're like beetles, only a million times bigger."
Stifling his impatience, Kuja pulled back his hood and shook his hair free. "Claire, you're not going to gain any experience with your weapon by practicing on immovable targets. You need to test out your skills by encountering beasts in the field, and by traveling on foot, you'll be able to do that."
Claire bit her lip nervously. "Real beasts? So soon? I don't know if I'm ready."
"Come on, baby," said Jack, putting an arm around her shoulder and giving her a squeeze, "if what you did back in that practicing range is any indication, you could shoot a zaghnol between the eyes on the first try."
Kuja expected her to shake the young man's arm off in disgust, but instead she smiled slightly. "Really?" she asked.
Jack's grin widened. "Really and truly," he replied.
Frowning in distaste, Kuja turned around and continued walking. He wasn't sure if he liked the idea of Claire befriending that unprincipled, uncultured little scoundrel. Clearly, he had no good qualities to speak of. As far as Kuja was concerned, the sooner Jack was out of the picture, the better.
According to Kuja's plan, they were to cross the Bentini Heights west to the Treno Gate, and then ride the Berkmea cable car north to the Zamo Basin. From there it was only steps away from Alexandria. If they encountered a mu or a carve spider along the way, Claire would practice on it while Kuja and Jack made sure she wasn't attacked. Once they reached Alexandria... Well, they would decide what to do when the time came.
As they walked across the field, the darkness gradually receding, Jack began to hum softly to pass the time, and then he started singing to himself in an unexpectedly pleasant, husky baritone.
"When I'm wandering so wearily,
I think about the girls
In Lindblum and Alexandria,
With straight hair and with curls
They sway their hips and twirl their skirts,
They bat their pretty eyes
And I know I can face any thing,
In any shape or size..."
Claire had begun to chuckle halfway through this ridiculous song, and Jack, emboldened by her laughter, continued to croon more loudly. "Oh, giiirls, they make a rainy day/Grow sunny with their smile/And whenever I--"
"Will you kindly stop that infernal racket?" Kuja interrupted, irritated at Claire for encouraging him. "You're driving off all the animals."
"Hey, Mr. Sunshine, quit bein' such a crank," Jack answered, sticking his nose regally into the air. "Claire likes it. Don't you, sweetheart?" Claire rolled her eyes. "Well, anyway... If you hate it so much, why don't you sing something?"
Kuja almost succumbed to the urge to laugh in his face. "I don't think so."
"Come on!" Jack whined. Kuja continued to ignore him, and he turned to Claire. "What about you, sweetheart?" he asked with a rakish smile. "Sing us a song from Earth."
"Will you stop calling me 'sweetheart'?" she growled. Kuja hid a smile by coughing into his hand. "Let's see, a song from Earth... Well, there are a lot of them."
"Then just pick one," Jack pressed.
Claire was silent for a moment, and then she began singing in a high, grating voice, "The sun'll come out tomorrooow! Bet'cher bottom dollaaar that--"
Kuja winced in pain, and Jack quickly stopped her. "Geez, that's annoying!" he exclaimed, almost in awe. "Please, sing something else!"
"Excuse me, I can't think of any songs good enough to represent my planet!" There was another, longer silence as Claire walked along in thought. Kuja almost assumed she had given up, but then he heard her start to sing in a sweet, lilting voice:
"Hey Jude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better..."
"Wow, I like it," Jack said, eyeing her appreciatively.
"Thanks!" she replied.
Kuja felt his tail twitching in annoyance. "Who's Jude?" he asked Claire, trying his best to ignore Jack.
She shrugged. "Beats me," she said. "I think it's just a song."
"Keep singin'," Jack urged her.
Claire nodded and resumed the song, softly at first, and then gaining more strength as she grew bolder. Kuja found himself entranced by her musical voice.
"Hey Jude, don't be afraid
You were made to go out and get her
The minute you let her under your skin
Then you begin to make it better..."
---
"And any time you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain," Claire and Jack sang boisterously at the top of their voices. "Don't carry the world up on your shoooulder..."
Kuja sighed irritably, forcing down his anger as his companions' singing caused yet another flock of trick sparrows to flutter off in alarm. At this rate, they wouldn't come upon a single animal on the rest of their journey to Treno Gate.
"For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool, by making his world a little cooolder..."
"Will you please stop singing, at least for now?" he asked, as politely as he could. "Once we reach the Aerbs Alexandria Station, you can sing as much as you want, but for the moment, we must maintain absolute silence if we ever hope to find any animals."
Jack trotted up to his side and cast an insolent glare at him. "I know why you're bein' such a jerk," he said in a low, biting voice, meant for only Kuja to hear. "It's because you're jealous. I'm bondin' with Claire, and you can't stand it."
"As I recall," Kuja replied icily under his breath, "you assured me earlier that your lips were sealed."
"I knew it," Jack rasped triumphantly. "You are jealous. Well, you'd better get used to it. It's only a matter of time until I get closer to Claire, and she won't be able to resist me. Compared to you, I'm an angel."
Kuja felt white-hot rage course through his veins, and he grabbed the redhead roughly by one of his sleeves. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you with my bare hands right now," he snarled.
In response, Jack smiled smugly. "Because Claire would hate you," he said simply.
Kuja blinked at him, too stunned to speak.
"That's right," Jack continued, spurred on by his silence. "You could kill me easily, but you won't, because then Claire wouldn't look at you with respect and admiration anymore. She'd see you as what you really are: a cold, heartless killing machine."
Staring into the thief's confident, black-rimmed eyes, Kuja felt something he had never experienced before. He felt powerless. It was not an agreeable feeling.
"If you ever tell her about me," he whispered, shaking with fury, "I'll--"
"You'll what? Kill me?" Jack smiled. "That would just prove I was right all along." He scoffed. "You haven't changed, Kuja. You may think you have, but in reality you're the same bloodthirsty monster you always were."
Kuja let go of his sleeve and shoved past him. "Shut up."
Suddenly he heard a shriek, and he turned around, panic quickly overtaking his anger. Claire was nowhere in sight. Cursing himself for letting her fall behind, he raced back through the tall grass, Jack at his heels. If anything happened to her... he thought, his dread soaring.
He found her in a clearing, the grass trampled flat. She was sitting on her knees, and next to her was the body of a dead fang, its matted fur stained red. Arrows were lodged in its neck and shoulder, and hot blood poured from the wounds. More arrows lay scattered on the ground.
"Claire!" He dropped to his knees beside her, his eyes quickly scanning her for injuries. She appeared to be unhurt, but he asked, "Are you all right?"
"It's about time," she said unsteadily, looking up at him with glassy eyes.
He helped her to her feet, and Jack burst into the clearing, breathing hard. "What happened?" he asked. "Is she okay?"
"Way to protect me, guys," Claire fumed, pushing away from Kuja. "I had to kill that thing all by myself! It could've ripped me open!"
Jack stared at the boar-like animal lying on the ground in astonishment. "No way," he breathed. "You took down a fang all by yourself, with no experience whatsoever?"
"If that thing on the ground is called a fang, then yeah, I guess I did."
Kuja watched with growing self-hatred as Claire began picking up her spent arrows and slipping them back into her quiver with trembling hands. If he had not let himself get into an argument with that criminal, she would never have had to defend herself alone. He had promised to protect her. And he had failed.
"Claire," he said as she shoved the last of her arrows into her quiver, "I am so sorry. I should never have let you out of my sight." He placed his hand on her arm. "Can you ever forgive me?"
She gave a shaky sigh. "Yeah, I guess so," she replied. "Just don't..." Her voice faltered. "Don't do it again."
"I won't," Kuja vowed firmly. And then, to his surprise, she came forward into his arms, shuddering from head to toe. Swallowing uneasily, he held her close to him and rubbed her back, trying to stop her shivering. He found himself enjoying the warmth of her skin, the smell of her hair, and the way his chin rested on the top of her head.
He was enjoying it so much that he didn't notice the deep rumble of contentment that rose in his chest until Jack cocked his head in surprise. "What the...?"
"Are... are you purring?" Claire asked uncertainly.
Kuja started slightly. "Am I?" he asked, taken aback. He paused, feeling the vibrations as he breathed in and out. "Yes, I suppose I am."
"Man, it's just one weird surprise after another with you, isn't it?" Jack muttered, folding his arms.
Claire's shivers seemed to be abating, but she didn't appear to be in any hurry to leave his embrace. In fact, Kuja felt distinctly uncomfortable as she pressed her ear to his chest and smiled faintly. "I kind of like it," she decided.
Kuja felt his cheeks grow warm. He rarely purred, mostly because he was rarely relaxed enough to purr. He hadn't expected this kind of reaction from Claire, but he had to admit that he was strangely pleased.
"Kuja," she said softly.
His purring grew louder as he closed his eyes. "Yes, my dove?" he murmured.
"We're standing in a puddle of fang blood."
He sighed. "Fantastic."
---
A/N: Ahahah... Oh. Well, that's it for chapter six. Yes, I know, Jack's being a little jerk at the moment. He is a no-good thief, after all. But he'll change, just trust me on that. Anyway, hope you like the story so far, and remember, review, for it is the fuel which keeps fanfiction writers going!
-W.
