A/N: Hola! Me llamo Black Mage Dad! Whoa. That sounds weird. Anyhow,
let me dish out some details before this story continues. Okay, I've
posted several stories similar to this but THEY'RE ALL THE SAME THING!
*Huffs angrily* I deleted them though *smiles smugly* This is the COMPLETE
version! The one I WANTED! And it's set after the game. It's pretty
interesting if you just follow the plot. Actually, it gets a bit strange.
And there are a few new characters who will show up in the next few
chapters. And, uh, this chapter too. And the "newbie" in this chapter is
really cute (as in bishónen cute) when you get to know him better later.
But I'm not revealing his name in this chapter and I'm dying to get to him!
Gah! *Sighs* So, read on and have fun!
Disclaimer: I don't own nothin' . . .
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Silence. There was nothing but silence. It was so dark, he couldn't see a hand in front of his face. His mind was floating through nothingness, drifting aimlessly amongst the vast darkness of sleep once more. He was going back. Farther back than he ever wished to remember or could possibly even recall. Yet the image was vivid, like a movie projected onto a screen, flickering at moments where the pieces didn't quite fit. And he had no control over his destination.
Kuja drew his legs in close to his body, curling himself tightly into a ball and hugging his knees snuggly to his chest. The weightlessness of floating through the void made his feel sick and the realization that there was nothing beneath his feet was somehow even more frightening. The silver- haired sorcerer remained in place, emptiness stretching out far beyond imagination above, below, and on all sides. Kuja stifled a sob, burying his head in his arms and trying desperately to shut himself off from what he knew was coming next.
"Why do I have to see this again?!" he moaned miserably, hunching his shoulders. "Why can't you just leave me in peace?!"
There was, of course, no answer. Kuja slowly raised his head, staring with exhausted, glazed eyes into the emptiness around him. Carefully, he unwound himself so that his legs were tucked beneath him, bent carefully to the side. The young man was almost afraid to move, wondering if a sudden gesture wouldn't simply send him sprawling out into space. Glaring at the infernal darkness, Kuja, beyond frustrated, swung a fist through the air, letting out an agitated cry. Naturally, his punch went nowhere and he was left even more ruffled than before, breathing heavily as he sat back down on his heels.
The feeling of aloneness was horribly uncomfortable, causing Kuja to shiver and wrap his beautiful, silver-furred tail around his ankle, squeezing it comfortingly. There was no way to call for help. No one would hear him. He was absolutely, positively, alone.
The sorcerer waited, his bright blue eyes gazing up at the nothingness above him as if he expected something to happen. Unfortunately, he forgot that he was supposed to look down.
With a sudden jerking sensation, the entire world tilted, throwing him completely off balance. With a yelp of surprise, Kuja went tumbling sideways, falling swiftly through the blackness. Wind whipped wildly at his face, icy cold, and he shut his eyes, waiting for the drop to end. He spiralled out of control for what seemed like forever, his hair blowing in the gale, his arms holding himself tightly as if he were afraid the screaming wind would rip him apart.
Then, as suddenly as it had started, Kuja found himself standing in a dark room, his feet shifting upon the cold tile flooring. He allowed his eyes to adjust for a moment before turning slowly on his heel, wondering for a moment if the image laid out before him was the same one he had seen countless times before.
Suddenly, there was a flash of light as if a patch of time itself were being yanked out of the universe, and Kuja found himself staring at a young boy who seemed unaware that another person was in the room with him. The youth had not entered the dark corridor nor opened any doors. He was just . . . there . . .
The child stood still, his right side facing Kuja within touching distance of the baffled young man. The boy was still a tyke, probably around twelve years old at the most. His feathery hair was a dazzling silver, pulled back into a short ponytail and a long, ivory-furred tail poked out of his strange, purple pants, snaking back and forth across the ground, sweeping the tiles gently. The boy's skin was paler than cold moonlight.
Kuja reached out slowly for the child, his eyes shining inquisitively. The little boy gave a rather unsure glimpse forwards as his eyes focused upon something in front of him, and Kuja's fingers barely brushed the back of the child's collar before the boy stepped out of the way and began to creep forward, a small, dancing flame flickering within his open palm.
Kuja watched the glow of faint light for a moment before attempting to take a step forward and follow the boy. However, something pulled him back and he found himself locked in place, eyes widening by the moment as he realized he was unable to move.
Just as panic began to set in, Kuja suddenly found himself hurtling forward, still in a standing position, the furnishings of the room shooting by dangerously close. The young man squeezed his eyes shut and held his arms bent out in front of him, desperately trying to shield himself from potential road-blocks.
/This is it . . ./ Kuja thought miserably to himself, forgetting that what he saw was nothing more than a dream. /My life is over. This trip is going to kill me for sure./
WHOOSH! With a screeching halt that the silver-haired sorcerer was NOT expecting, the world slammed to a stop. Kuja nearly fell forward from the sudden force of flying a hundred miles per hour and putting the breaks on at the last minute. He threw his hands out in front of him, trying desperately to catch his balance. After a moment in which the warlock was sure he was going to be sick, Kuja carefully straightened himself, still a little dizzy from the flight.
"Well if that didn't just defy the laws of inertia . . ." the sorcerer muttered, slapping a hand to his forehead and taking a shaky step backwards in an attempt to steady himself. Nervously, he raised his eyes, taking in his surroundings.
He was no longer standing in the front area of the corridor, that was for sure. The atmosphere seemed to have moved to the back of the room. It was darker. A lot darker. The new section was different . . . creepier . . . Kuja cast an anxious glance around the area, wondering briefly where the little boy had gone to.
Suddenly, he heard a faint clatter beside him and he jerked his head in the direction of the sound. There was the child once more, trying - and failing - to sneak quietly through the clutter hidden within the stifling darkness. Unfortunately, the young one was succeeding only in knocking chairs and other items noisily to the floor. Kuja frowned slightly.
/You do that every time I watch this./ The sorcerer thought bitterly. /When will you ever learn, you stupid child?!/
The little boy brushed past the silver-tailed genome, his eyes never even glancing in the elder's direction. Kuja huffed slightly and followed the youth, massaging his temples furiously as he watched the drama unfold once more. He was becoming really sick of the whole thing.
Before his very eyes, the room became dotted with winking green and red lights, the whir of machines droning over the buzz of computers and laptops. The two were in a lab, the cold, steel tables cluttered with beakers and bottles of strange colored chemicals, odd (and sometimes rather disturbing) instruments, and tubes still smoking from their last use.
/Not TOO cheerful . . ./ Kuja thought sarcastically, noticing a syringe with the thickest needle he had ever seen in his life lying right near his elbow. He figured it could be used on nothing smaller than an elephant. Or possibly Queen Brahne . . .
Watching the young boy out of the corner of his eye, Kuja shivered as he felt the temperature in the room drop considerably. He rubbed his arms numbly in a feeble attempt to remain warm, and watched his breath rise gently into the air before him.
The little silver-haired youth accompanying him in the room was staring at the space at the end of the lab in which sat dozens of large six-foot-tall pod-like structures, lined up in long rows of seven or eight each like soldiers upon a battle-field. They were a metallic gray and egg-shaped with thick, many colored wires tangled in a mass behind them. Each of the enormous capsules had a window carved into the front, right at eye-level, with tinted olive-green glass. A mysterious, smoky steam which Kuja had never, in all the times he had watched the event, noticed before, was drifting and swirling lazily upon the floor, at least three inches deep. The sorcerer furrowed his brow, trying to recall what he usually saw after the current part. It was difficult to grasp. He rarely made it past the young boy's entrance.
/Strange . . ./ Kuja acknowledged thoughtfully to himself, tapping a finger against his chin. /I don't remember this dream ever being so clear before . . ./
Like a ton of bricks falling atop his head, Kuja remembered with a sudden gasp what horrors he was about to witness next.
"Oh no . . ." he hissed, feeling his heart drop like a stone.
The warlock shut his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, wishing he could just wake up and leave everything behind. Why did he have to relive It again?! Why?! Why did they torture him so?! But he knew there was no escape. Whatever his mind wanted him to see, he HAD to see. End of discussion.
Accepting his fate, the young man raised his eyelids wearily, preparing to witness the dread-scene once more.
Just like always, a man stepped out from behind one of the pods, his mouth twisted into a malicious grin. Kuja could not see him clearly through the steam and dim lighting but he didn't have to. He remembered the demon exactly.
"So you've returned . . ." the man hissed, his voice like a gentle breeze blowing through tall, green grass; barely above a whisper. The sound was not pleasant. The little boy froze, fists clenched at his side, extinguishing the flame in his hand immediately with a small hiss. He said nothing. Kuja felt his stomach knot horribly.
"Well? Aren't you going to speak?" the young man leaning against the nearest pod queried, tilting his head to the side. "Or are you too stupid to form words like the others?"
The twelve-year-old stood there, mouth gaping open like a fish out of water - trying to gulp in air but finding none. This seemed to amuse the man greatly.
"Funny," he commented. "I heard you were a smart one," he chuckled as if he doubted it. "Oh well . . . I guess anything can seem smart in this one- track hell-hole. Even you!" he glanced quizzically at the child, waiting for a response.
/Speak!/ Kuja thought desperately, wishing his commands had an affect. /Defend yourself!/
The little boy did neither; just stood there perfectly erect, his eyes wide as he stared at the man shrouded in smoky mist before him. The other continued to talk, ignoring Kuja.
"Funny," he sneered again. "You don't look as powerful as they say you are, either. Why is that?" there was a moment of silence.
"Say something!" Kuja cried aloud; his words falling upon deaf ears. The little boy's eyes were watering. The other man continued as if enjoying the frightened look upon the child's face.
"It's true then, what they say," the man deemed, letting himself fall side- ways against the glinting pod. He began twiddling his thumbs, pretending to be bored. "How you got rid of The Second and stuff. Man . . . What a cowardly thing to do . . ."
Kuja began to clench his fists angrily, feeling the blood pumping through his body hard.
"Damn you!" he shouted, kicking hard at a large, steel table next to him. His leg went right through it and he cursed angrily. "What is the point of me seeing this?! It's one isolated moment in time! It affects nothing!" he turned back to the nightmare, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The little boy still stood there petrified, the other speaking quietly to him.
"What is it that makes you so special?" the older man queried, folding his arms over his chest and nestling himself comfortably against the pod's door. "You don't look so great to me. Actually, to be quite honest, you look almost wan," he gestured over the child's image, his eyes taking in the boy's frightened appearance. "I mean, your hair is colorless, your skin is sickly pale, and is it just me or are you, like, really, really skinny?" he burst out laughing, his voice drenching the room in an icy chill. "God! It looks like I could snap you in half over my knee!" he exclaimed, pointing a mocking finger at the young boy.
Kuja gritted his teeth angrily.
"Leave him alone!" he cried out, taking an unsteady step forward. Of course, no one heard him. He did not exist to them. The man continued on, his never-ending, poisonous words seeping through Kuja's miserable psyche. He couldn't stand that foul laugh! He couldn't then and he couldn't now!
The strange human by the pods began drawing circles in the air with his index finger, obviously really, REALLY bored.
"So, why do you keep coming in here?" he asked, glancing up from his air- doodles to stare deep into the silver-haired tyke's eyes. The little one took a cautious step backwards.
"Wh-what do you mean?" he stammered, speaking the first words since he had entered the lab. The sinister-looking man shook his head disgustedly.
"Oh please . . . As if I didn't know," he teased, not taking his eyes off the little boy. "You come in here every day. Maybe that's why you're such a failure. You're too curious,"
Ouch.
That had hit a nerve.
The child's body stiffened and he bared his teeth angrily. The boy finally seemed ready to stand up for his already stomped-on pride.
"I am NOT a failure!" he shouted, stamping his foot angrily. The other man waved a hand absently, brushing away the comment, a faint smile upon his face.
"Sure . . ." he chuckled. "I'm not stupid, you know. You are second best and you will ALWAYS be second best. It's just 'cause you got rid of Him that you feel like Top-Dog around here. Well all that's gonna change real soon,"
The little boy seemed suddenly unsure. "What do you mean?"
Kuja kneaded his forehead exasperatedly, knowing what would happen next.
"Here it comes . . ." he whispered, half-listening.
"You mean you haven't heard?" the man taunted, cocking his head curiously.
"Heard what?" the child asked, frowning slightly.
"Well that's odd. I would have thought you'd be the first to hear about That,"
"About what?!"
The strange identity seemed to be enjoying his game far too much.
"What a pity . . ."
The little boy balled his fists once more, his tail thrashing through the air in agitation.
"What's a pity?!"
The man sighed heavily, pretending to wipe at his eyes. Through the machine-lights reflecting off the smoke, Kuja could see that he was, in fact, smiling with delight.
"Look in the back room," the man whispered as if telling a great secret. "It's such a shame,"
The little boy glared uncertainly at the man and brushed past Kuja, squeezing his way through the pods into the restricted back room. Kuja turned away, horrified.
"Not again . . ." he pleaded silently to himself.
Suddenly, he felt as if an icy claw were wrapping itself around his spine sending icicles sliding down his back. Flinching with surprise, Kuja whipped around -
- And found himself face to face with the man himself, in clear view.
"What the hell?!" Kuja cried out in surprise. The man laughed, his bright green eyes scoping straight through the sorcerer's soul.
"So, you have returned . . ." he said calmly, tilting his head thoughtfully. "It's like dejá vu or something. Why do you always come back here?"
Kuja refused to meet the man's cold glare.
"I do not come here of my own accord," he said stiffly, folding his arms over his chest. The man nodded, furrowing his brow.
"Uh . . . huh . . ." after a moment he brightened considerably. "This part sure is fun isn't it?" he joked, staring hard at Kuja. The silver-tailed genome gave him an icy look.
"You're an asshole, you know that?"
"Mhm . . ."
"And I hate you!"
"Why?" the man seemed genuinely curious. "Is it because I'm better than you? Or because I exposed your flaws? Or because every night when you go to sleep you remember and you realize how much more you truly despise me?"
"You're not real . . ." Kuja choked out, on the brink of tears. He trembled and turned away, hugging himself hopelessly. "You're probably nothing more than a corpse in a tank by now!"
"How can you be sure?" the green-eyed man asked, stepping sideways so that he could see the warlock better. "I was once real; why couldn't I be now? After all, back then I expected you to not be 'real' within another year. Being the disappointment that you are I'm surprised your ass isn't frozen somewhere on the Forgotten Continent by now,"
"Shut up . . ." Kuja sobbed dejectedly, wiping roughly at his eyes. The man smiled, his eyes narrowing despicably.
"Go ahead, cry. After all, this isn't real,"
"But it once was," Kuja snapped at him, looking over his shoulder vigorously.
"Ah, so you admit it,"
"I - I have to . . ."
"Good,"
Kuja opened his mouth to object when he heard the Sound - that dreadful sound that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
CRASH!
Glass shattering, steel snapping, sparks flying everywhere. Screams of anguish, liquid sloshing upon the floor. Curses, cries, shrieks. They burst forth from the behind the pods like thunder, bringing the very air around them to its knees.
"Hmm . . . It's like music," the man pointed out, tilting his head to the side as he listened to the chaos exploding in the back room. Kuja flinched every time something shattered; every time the little boy screamed in agony. He stood there, shivering, while the person behind him hummed a tune to himself. Suddenly, Kuja whispered something so quietly that he could hardly hear it himself.
"No more . . ."
"Pardon me?"
"No . . . more . . .!"
"What'd you say?"
Kuja began to quake with impetuous wrath. He turned around slowly, his eyes flashing menacingly.
"I said NO! MORE! I've had ENOUGH!" he lunged forward, aiming a fist at the young green-eyed man. The other dodged quickly, guffawing to himself.
"Ah, the memories!" he exclaimed, his eyes dancing bemusedly as Kuja flung himself around, breathing hard as his eyes shot death-beams through his enemy. "You really should learn to control that temper of yours, Kuja," he raised his eyes to the ceiling for a moment as if calculating something in his head before nodding. "I do believe he should be returning about now, don't you?"
Kuja said nothing. There was an agonizing buzz in his ears that made him want to puke. And sure enough - right on cue - the little boy went flying out of the back-room, drenched in blood and chemicals. There was shards of glass stuck in his ivory hair and his clothes were ripped to shreds. He was covering his face, trying to hide his tears which flowed in tiny rivulets down his face. Kuja stepped out of the way as the child tore past him, his eyes glazing sadly. The young man next to him smirked as if watching some sort of ridiculous comedy.
"Stupid child . . ." he joked to himself, wrapping a strand of dark brown hair around his finger.
Kuja glowered at him.
"It's all your fault!" he accused, his tail falling limply to the floor.
"Oh, he would have found out eventually," the antagonist responded, brushing away the comment as if it were nothing more than an annoying fly. He gave Kuja a quiet, thoughtful look.
"There is more to the past than meets the eye," he instructed. Staring blankly, he left Kuja to ponder those words. Abruptly, the man burst out laughing. It echoed through the entire lab, rattling in Kuja's mind. Suddenly, the sorcerer's stomach did a flip-flop and the silver-haired man found himself shooting into the air like a bullet, the lab and the man becoming nothing more than specks beneath him, shrinking smaller and smaller every second. But the laughter remained the same, booming like a roaring waterfall in his ears. Kuja shut his eyes, drowning out the sound.
And then he was back in bed once more . . .
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"Oh holy shit!" Kuja gasped, sitting up quickly. He stared into the darkness for a full minute, the laughter still ringing through his mind. Hurriedly, he ripped the covers off his legs and climbed out of bed, rubbing his face agitatedly. He stumbled over to the mirror and placed his hands against the dresser, steadying himself. The sorcerer stared at the stranger glaring back at him and frowned.
"Damn you . . ." he hissed, straightening himself. He turned around grumpily, grumbling to himself and scratching his head. "Damn everything . . ."
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"You look dead," Megan stated simply, looking across the kitchen table at the silver-haired boy who had just entered the room and slumped down into a chair, pursing his lips. Kuja gave her an exhausted look.
"Really? Well, you don't look all that great either,"
"Kick the ball, not the ball player," Megan instructed, though a faint smile floated around her lips.
Megan was a very lovely girl. The sort of girl guys loved to date . . . and loved to take advantage of. She was sweet and intelligent, with a bit of a "bitchy" side when necessary. Her face was framed by cashew-brown hair and her eyes were the color of hot chocolate. A few freckles were splashed across her nose and cheeks and a pair of glasses were resting upon the bridge of her nose. The young woman was cradling a cup of coffee in her hands, using them to warm up her numb fingers.
The pair lapsed into silence, Kuja gazing out the window at the awakening morning. A small robin sat upon a nearby oak-tree, chirping merrily. The sky was still a dusty gray in the morning light. However, the faintest warmth of sunlight could be seen just over the horizon.
"So what's wrong?" Megan finally asked, looking up from her coffee to gaze at the person across from her. Kuja was immediately on the defensive.
"Nothing!"
Megan frowned. "Don't lie to me! I can read you like a book!"
"Cannot!" Kuja shot back, grinning. Megan set her cup down and raised an eyebrow.
"Maturity level going DOWN!" a boisterous voice called from the hallway followed by heavy footsteps. Kuja and Megan looked up from the table to see an old woman flounce into the room, doing a little jig. Her hair was a frizzy gray and her beady eyes were crinkled with delight.
"Grandma!" Megan whined, blushing considerably. Her grandmother chuckled and danced up to the sink to wash her hands, giggling at the pair. Kuja couldn't help but smile.
The Yorokobi family was small, consisting only of Megan, her mother, and her father's mother. The two eldest specialized in herbs and medicines, running their own small healing store and item shop. The youngest was unemployed, surviving off her family. Kuja had lived with them for over two and a half years, helping them in their shop. He was thankful for their hospitality.
And other things . . .
Megan's grandmother frowned, turning away from the sink.
"Where is that lazy daughter-in-law of mine?" she fizzed, storming towards the kitchen door. "If we don't get out of here soon, the shift'll be plum over!"
Megan chuckled as she watched the old woman charge out of the room, not one sign of old age in her entire attitude. After a moment, the young girl went back to sipping her coffee and Kuja went back to staring at the table, trying to block the laughter out of his head.
"I heard you crying last night," Megan said suddenly, her voice remaining surprisingly firm. Kuja looked up at her sharply, frowning.
"I didn't cry last night," he said truthfully, crinkling his forehead. Megan reached for another cube of sugar and dropped it into her decaf with a small plink. Kuja watched the ripples quietly, feeling uncomfortable.
"Nightmares again?" Megan queried, looking deep into Kuja's eyes. Kuja hated when she did that. It made him feel so . . . vulnerable . . .
"It's just stupid," he said absently, running his fingers through his hair. Reluctantly, Megan pulled off the subject.
She couldn't tell him that whatever nightmares he'd had couldn't be as bad as her own . . .
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A/N: Well . . . that was . . . interesting . . . Next chapter should be up soon ('cause I already wrote it, hehe). But I won't post it unless I get at least THREE reviews! Sounds pitiful, yes, but I never have much luck. Thanks for reading (if you really did *cough* Feathery Kuja *cough*) and remember, at least THREE reviews! Or this story goes bye-bye (again *grumble grumble*).
Disclaimer: I don't own nothin' . . .
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Silence. There was nothing but silence. It was so dark, he couldn't see a hand in front of his face. His mind was floating through nothingness, drifting aimlessly amongst the vast darkness of sleep once more. He was going back. Farther back than he ever wished to remember or could possibly even recall. Yet the image was vivid, like a movie projected onto a screen, flickering at moments where the pieces didn't quite fit. And he had no control over his destination.
Kuja drew his legs in close to his body, curling himself tightly into a ball and hugging his knees snuggly to his chest. The weightlessness of floating through the void made his feel sick and the realization that there was nothing beneath his feet was somehow even more frightening. The silver- haired sorcerer remained in place, emptiness stretching out far beyond imagination above, below, and on all sides. Kuja stifled a sob, burying his head in his arms and trying desperately to shut himself off from what he knew was coming next.
"Why do I have to see this again?!" he moaned miserably, hunching his shoulders. "Why can't you just leave me in peace?!"
There was, of course, no answer. Kuja slowly raised his head, staring with exhausted, glazed eyes into the emptiness around him. Carefully, he unwound himself so that his legs were tucked beneath him, bent carefully to the side. The young man was almost afraid to move, wondering if a sudden gesture wouldn't simply send him sprawling out into space. Glaring at the infernal darkness, Kuja, beyond frustrated, swung a fist through the air, letting out an agitated cry. Naturally, his punch went nowhere and he was left even more ruffled than before, breathing heavily as he sat back down on his heels.
The feeling of aloneness was horribly uncomfortable, causing Kuja to shiver and wrap his beautiful, silver-furred tail around his ankle, squeezing it comfortingly. There was no way to call for help. No one would hear him. He was absolutely, positively, alone.
The sorcerer waited, his bright blue eyes gazing up at the nothingness above him as if he expected something to happen. Unfortunately, he forgot that he was supposed to look down.
With a sudden jerking sensation, the entire world tilted, throwing him completely off balance. With a yelp of surprise, Kuja went tumbling sideways, falling swiftly through the blackness. Wind whipped wildly at his face, icy cold, and he shut his eyes, waiting for the drop to end. He spiralled out of control for what seemed like forever, his hair blowing in the gale, his arms holding himself tightly as if he were afraid the screaming wind would rip him apart.
Then, as suddenly as it had started, Kuja found himself standing in a dark room, his feet shifting upon the cold tile flooring. He allowed his eyes to adjust for a moment before turning slowly on his heel, wondering for a moment if the image laid out before him was the same one he had seen countless times before.
Suddenly, there was a flash of light as if a patch of time itself were being yanked out of the universe, and Kuja found himself staring at a young boy who seemed unaware that another person was in the room with him. The youth had not entered the dark corridor nor opened any doors. He was just . . . there . . .
The child stood still, his right side facing Kuja within touching distance of the baffled young man. The boy was still a tyke, probably around twelve years old at the most. His feathery hair was a dazzling silver, pulled back into a short ponytail and a long, ivory-furred tail poked out of his strange, purple pants, snaking back and forth across the ground, sweeping the tiles gently. The boy's skin was paler than cold moonlight.
Kuja reached out slowly for the child, his eyes shining inquisitively. The little boy gave a rather unsure glimpse forwards as his eyes focused upon something in front of him, and Kuja's fingers barely brushed the back of the child's collar before the boy stepped out of the way and began to creep forward, a small, dancing flame flickering within his open palm.
Kuja watched the glow of faint light for a moment before attempting to take a step forward and follow the boy. However, something pulled him back and he found himself locked in place, eyes widening by the moment as he realized he was unable to move.
Just as panic began to set in, Kuja suddenly found himself hurtling forward, still in a standing position, the furnishings of the room shooting by dangerously close. The young man squeezed his eyes shut and held his arms bent out in front of him, desperately trying to shield himself from potential road-blocks.
/This is it . . ./ Kuja thought miserably to himself, forgetting that what he saw was nothing more than a dream. /My life is over. This trip is going to kill me for sure./
WHOOSH! With a screeching halt that the silver-haired sorcerer was NOT expecting, the world slammed to a stop. Kuja nearly fell forward from the sudden force of flying a hundred miles per hour and putting the breaks on at the last minute. He threw his hands out in front of him, trying desperately to catch his balance. After a moment in which the warlock was sure he was going to be sick, Kuja carefully straightened himself, still a little dizzy from the flight.
"Well if that didn't just defy the laws of inertia . . ." the sorcerer muttered, slapping a hand to his forehead and taking a shaky step backwards in an attempt to steady himself. Nervously, he raised his eyes, taking in his surroundings.
He was no longer standing in the front area of the corridor, that was for sure. The atmosphere seemed to have moved to the back of the room. It was darker. A lot darker. The new section was different . . . creepier . . . Kuja cast an anxious glance around the area, wondering briefly where the little boy had gone to.
Suddenly, he heard a faint clatter beside him and he jerked his head in the direction of the sound. There was the child once more, trying - and failing - to sneak quietly through the clutter hidden within the stifling darkness. Unfortunately, the young one was succeeding only in knocking chairs and other items noisily to the floor. Kuja frowned slightly.
/You do that every time I watch this./ The sorcerer thought bitterly. /When will you ever learn, you stupid child?!/
The little boy brushed past the silver-tailed genome, his eyes never even glancing in the elder's direction. Kuja huffed slightly and followed the youth, massaging his temples furiously as he watched the drama unfold once more. He was becoming really sick of the whole thing.
Before his very eyes, the room became dotted with winking green and red lights, the whir of machines droning over the buzz of computers and laptops. The two were in a lab, the cold, steel tables cluttered with beakers and bottles of strange colored chemicals, odd (and sometimes rather disturbing) instruments, and tubes still smoking from their last use.
/Not TOO cheerful . . ./ Kuja thought sarcastically, noticing a syringe with the thickest needle he had ever seen in his life lying right near his elbow. He figured it could be used on nothing smaller than an elephant. Or possibly Queen Brahne . . .
Watching the young boy out of the corner of his eye, Kuja shivered as he felt the temperature in the room drop considerably. He rubbed his arms numbly in a feeble attempt to remain warm, and watched his breath rise gently into the air before him.
The little silver-haired youth accompanying him in the room was staring at the space at the end of the lab in which sat dozens of large six-foot-tall pod-like structures, lined up in long rows of seven or eight each like soldiers upon a battle-field. They were a metallic gray and egg-shaped with thick, many colored wires tangled in a mass behind them. Each of the enormous capsules had a window carved into the front, right at eye-level, with tinted olive-green glass. A mysterious, smoky steam which Kuja had never, in all the times he had watched the event, noticed before, was drifting and swirling lazily upon the floor, at least three inches deep. The sorcerer furrowed his brow, trying to recall what he usually saw after the current part. It was difficult to grasp. He rarely made it past the young boy's entrance.
/Strange . . ./ Kuja acknowledged thoughtfully to himself, tapping a finger against his chin. /I don't remember this dream ever being so clear before . . ./
Like a ton of bricks falling atop his head, Kuja remembered with a sudden gasp what horrors he was about to witness next.
"Oh no . . ." he hissed, feeling his heart drop like a stone.
The warlock shut his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, wishing he could just wake up and leave everything behind. Why did he have to relive It again?! Why?! Why did they torture him so?! But he knew there was no escape. Whatever his mind wanted him to see, he HAD to see. End of discussion.
Accepting his fate, the young man raised his eyelids wearily, preparing to witness the dread-scene once more.
Just like always, a man stepped out from behind one of the pods, his mouth twisted into a malicious grin. Kuja could not see him clearly through the steam and dim lighting but he didn't have to. He remembered the demon exactly.
"So you've returned . . ." the man hissed, his voice like a gentle breeze blowing through tall, green grass; barely above a whisper. The sound was not pleasant. The little boy froze, fists clenched at his side, extinguishing the flame in his hand immediately with a small hiss. He said nothing. Kuja felt his stomach knot horribly.
"Well? Aren't you going to speak?" the young man leaning against the nearest pod queried, tilting his head to the side. "Or are you too stupid to form words like the others?"
The twelve-year-old stood there, mouth gaping open like a fish out of water - trying to gulp in air but finding none. This seemed to amuse the man greatly.
"Funny," he commented. "I heard you were a smart one," he chuckled as if he doubted it. "Oh well . . . I guess anything can seem smart in this one- track hell-hole. Even you!" he glanced quizzically at the child, waiting for a response.
/Speak!/ Kuja thought desperately, wishing his commands had an affect. /Defend yourself!/
The little boy did neither; just stood there perfectly erect, his eyes wide as he stared at the man shrouded in smoky mist before him. The other continued to talk, ignoring Kuja.
"Funny," he sneered again. "You don't look as powerful as they say you are, either. Why is that?" there was a moment of silence.
"Say something!" Kuja cried aloud; his words falling upon deaf ears. The little boy's eyes were watering. The other man continued as if enjoying the frightened look upon the child's face.
"It's true then, what they say," the man deemed, letting himself fall side- ways against the glinting pod. He began twiddling his thumbs, pretending to be bored. "How you got rid of The Second and stuff. Man . . . What a cowardly thing to do . . ."
Kuja began to clench his fists angrily, feeling the blood pumping through his body hard.
"Damn you!" he shouted, kicking hard at a large, steel table next to him. His leg went right through it and he cursed angrily. "What is the point of me seeing this?! It's one isolated moment in time! It affects nothing!" he turned back to the nightmare, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The little boy still stood there petrified, the other speaking quietly to him.
"What is it that makes you so special?" the older man queried, folding his arms over his chest and nestling himself comfortably against the pod's door. "You don't look so great to me. Actually, to be quite honest, you look almost wan," he gestured over the child's image, his eyes taking in the boy's frightened appearance. "I mean, your hair is colorless, your skin is sickly pale, and is it just me or are you, like, really, really skinny?" he burst out laughing, his voice drenching the room in an icy chill. "God! It looks like I could snap you in half over my knee!" he exclaimed, pointing a mocking finger at the young boy.
Kuja gritted his teeth angrily.
"Leave him alone!" he cried out, taking an unsteady step forward. Of course, no one heard him. He did not exist to them. The man continued on, his never-ending, poisonous words seeping through Kuja's miserable psyche. He couldn't stand that foul laugh! He couldn't then and he couldn't now!
The strange human by the pods began drawing circles in the air with his index finger, obviously really, REALLY bored.
"So, why do you keep coming in here?" he asked, glancing up from his air- doodles to stare deep into the silver-haired tyke's eyes. The little one took a cautious step backwards.
"Wh-what do you mean?" he stammered, speaking the first words since he had entered the lab. The sinister-looking man shook his head disgustedly.
"Oh please . . . As if I didn't know," he teased, not taking his eyes off the little boy. "You come in here every day. Maybe that's why you're such a failure. You're too curious,"
Ouch.
That had hit a nerve.
The child's body stiffened and he bared his teeth angrily. The boy finally seemed ready to stand up for his already stomped-on pride.
"I am NOT a failure!" he shouted, stamping his foot angrily. The other man waved a hand absently, brushing away the comment, a faint smile upon his face.
"Sure . . ." he chuckled. "I'm not stupid, you know. You are second best and you will ALWAYS be second best. It's just 'cause you got rid of Him that you feel like Top-Dog around here. Well all that's gonna change real soon,"
The little boy seemed suddenly unsure. "What do you mean?"
Kuja kneaded his forehead exasperatedly, knowing what would happen next.
"Here it comes . . ." he whispered, half-listening.
"You mean you haven't heard?" the man taunted, cocking his head curiously.
"Heard what?" the child asked, frowning slightly.
"Well that's odd. I would have thought you'd be the first to hear about That,"
"About what?!"
The strange identity seemed to be enjoying his game far too much.
"What a pity . . ."
The little boy balled his fists once more, his tail thrashing through the air in agitation.
"What's a pity?!"
The man sighed heavily, pretending to wipe at his eyes. Through the machine-lights reflecting off the smoke, Kuja could see that he was, in fact, smiling with delight.
"Look in the back room," the man whispered as if telling a great secret. "It's such a shame,"
The little boy glared uncertainly at the man and brushed past Kuja, squeezing his way through the pods into the restricted back room. Kuja turned away, horrified.
"Not again . . ." he pleaded silently to himself.
Suddenly, he felt as if an icy claw were wrapping itself around his spine sending icicles sliding down his back. Flinching with surprise, Kuja whipped around -
- And found himself face to face with the man himself, in clear view.
"What the hell?!" Kuja cried out in surprise. The man laughed, his bright green eyes scoping straight through the sorcerer's soul.
"So, you have returned . . ." he said calmly, tilting his head thoughtfully. "It's like dejá vu or something. Why do you always come back here?"
Kuja refused to meet the man's cold glare.
"I do not come here of my own accord," he said stiffly, folding his arms over his chest. The man nodded, furrowing his brow.
"Uh . . . huh . . ." after a moment he brightened considerably. "This part sure is fun isn't it?" he joked, staring hard at Kuja. The silver-tailed genome gave him an icy look.
"You're an asshole, you know that?"
"Mhm . . ."
"And I hate you!"
"Why?" the man seemed genuinely curious. "Is it because I'm better than you? Or because I exposed your flaws? Or because every night when you go to sleep you remember and you realize how much more you truly despise me?"
"You're not real . . ." Kuja choked out, on the brink of tears. He trembled and turned away, hugging himself hopelessly. "You're probably nothing more than a corpse in a tank by now!"
"How can you be sure?" the green-eyed man asked, stepping sideways so that he could see the warlock better. "I was once real; why couldn't I be now? After all, back then I expected you to not be 'real' within another year. Being the disappointment that you are I'm surprised your ass isn't frozen somewhere on the Forgotten Continent by now,"
"Shut up . . ." Kuja sobbed dejectedly, wiping roughly at his eyes. The man smiled, his eyes narrowing despicably.
"Go ahead, cry. After all, this isn't real,"
"But it once was," Kuja snapped at him, looking over his shoulder vigorously.
"Ah, so you admit it,"
"I - I have to . . ."
"Good,"
Kuja opened his mouth to object when he heard the Sound - that dreadful sound that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
CRASH!
Glass shattering, steel snapping, sparks flying everywhere. Screams of anguish, liquid sloshing upon the floor. Curses, cries, shrieks. They burst forth from the behind the pods like thunder, bringing the very air around them to its knees.
"Hmm . . . It's like music," the man pointed out, tilting his head to the side as he listened to the chaos exploding in the back room. Kuja flinched every time something shattered; every time the little boy screamed in agony. He stood there, shivering, while the person behind him hummed a tune to himself. Suddenly, Kuja whispered something so quietly that he could hardly hear it himself.
"No more . . ."
"Pardon me?"
"No . . . more . . .!"
"What'd you say?"
Kuja began to quake with impetuous wrath. He turned around slowly, his eyes flashing menacingly.
"I said NO! MORE! I've had ENOUGH!" he lunged forward, aiming a fist at the young green-eyed man. The other dodged quickly, guffawing to himself.
"Ah, the memories!" he exclaimed, his eyes dancing bemusedly as Kuja flung himself around, breathing hard as his eyes shot death-beams through his enemy. "You really should learn to control that temper of yours, Kuja," he raised his eyes to the ceiling for a moment as if calculating something in his head before nodding. "I do believe he should be returning about now, don't you?"
Kuja said nothing. There was an agonizing buzz in his ears that made him want to puke. And sure enough - right on cue - the little boy went flying out of the back-room, drenched in blood and chemicals. There was shards of glass stuck in his ivory hair and his clothes were ripped to shreds. He was covering his face, trying to hide his tears which flowed in tiny rivulets down his face. Kuja stepped out of the way as the child tore past him, his eyes glazing sadly. The young man next to him smirked as if watching some sort of ridiculous comedy.
"Stupid child . . ." he joked to himself, wrapping a strand of dark brown hair around his finger.
Kuja glowered at him.
"It's all your fault!" he accused, his tail falling limply to the floor.
"Oh, he would have found out eventually," the antagonist responded, brushing away the comment as if it were nothing more than an annoying fly. He gave Kuja a quiet, thoughtful look.
"There is more to the past than meets the eye," he instructed. Staring blankly, he left Kuja to ponder those words. Abruptly, the man burst out laughing. It echoed through the entire lab, rattling in Kuja's mind. Suddenly, the sorcerer's stomach did a flip-flop and the silver-haired man found himself shooting into the air like a bullet, the lab and the man becoming nothing more than specks beneath him, shrinking smaller and smaller every second. But the laughter remained the same, booming like a roaring waterfall in his ears. Kuja shut his eyes, drowning out the sound.
And then he was back in bed once more . . .
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Oh holy shit!" Kuja gasped, sitting up quickly. He stared into the darkness for a full minute, the laughter still ringing through his mind. Hurriedly, he ripped the covers off his legs and climbed out of bed, rubbing his face agitatedly. He stumbled over to the mirror and placed his hands against the dresser, steadying himself. The sorcerer stared at the stranger glaring back at him and frowned.
"Damn you . . ." he hissed, straightening himself. He turned around grumpily, grumbling to himself and scratching his head. "Damn everything . . ."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"You look dead," Megan stated simply, looking across the kitchen table at the silver-haired boy who had just entered the room and slumped down into a chair, pursing his lips. Kuja gave her an exhausted look.
"Really? Well, you don't look all that great either,"
"Kick the ball, not the ball player," Megan instructed, though a faint smile floated around her lips.
Megan was a very lovely girl. The sort of girl guys loved to date . . . and loved to take advantage of. She was sweet and intelligent, with a bit of a "bitchy" side when necessary. Her face was framed by cashew-brown hair and her eyes were the color of hot chocolate. A few freckles were splashed across her nose and cheeks and a pair of glasses were resting upon the bridge of her nose. The young woman was cradling a cup of coffee in her hands, using them to warm up her numb fingers.
The pair lapsed into silence, Kuja gazing out the window at the awakening morning. A small robin sat upon a nearby oak-tree, chirping merrily. The sky was still a dusty gray in the morning light. However, the faintest warmth of sunlight could be seen just over the horizon.
"So what's wrong?" Megan finally asked, looking up from her coffee to gaze at the person across from her. Kuja was immediately on the defensive.
"Nothing!"
Megan frowned. "Don't lie to me! I can read you like a book!"
"Cannot!" Kuja shot back, grinning. Megan set her cup down and raised an eyebrow.
"Maturity level going DOWN!" a boisterous voice called from the hallway followed by heavy footsteps. Kuja and Megan looked up from the table to see an old woman flounce into the room, doing a little jig. Her hair was a frizzy gray and her beady eyes were crinkled with delight.
"Grandma!" Megan whined, blushing considerably. Her grandmother chuckled and danced up to the sink to wash her hands, giggling at the pair. Kuja couldn't help but smile.
The Yorokobi family was small, consisting only of Megan, her mother, and her father's mother. The two eldest specialized in herbs and medicines, running their own small healing store and item shop. The youngest was unemployed, surviving off her family. Kuja had lived with them for over two and a half years, helping them in their shop. He was thankful for their hospitality.
And other things . . .
Megan's grandmother frowned, turning away from the sink.
"Where is that lazy daughter-in-law of mine?" she fizzed, storming towards the kitchen door. "If we don't get out of here soon, the shift'll be plum over!"
Megan chuckled as she watched the old woman charge out of the room, not one sign of old age in her entire attitude. After a moment, the young girl went back to sipping her coffee and Kuja went back to staring at the table, trying to block the laughter out of his head.
"I heard you crying last night," Megan said suddenly, her voice remaining surprisingly firm. Kuja looked up at her sharply, frowning.
"I didn't cry last night," he said truthfully, crinkling his forehead. Megan reached for another cube of sugar and dropped it into her decaf with a small plink. Kuja watched the ripples quietly, feeling uncomfortable.
"Nightmares again?" Megan queried, looking deep into Kuja's eyes. Kuja hated when she did that. It made him feel so . . . vulnerable . . .
"It's just stupid," he said absently, running his fingers through his hair. Reluctantly, Megan pulled off the subject.
She couldn't tell him that whatever nightmares he'd had couldn't be as bad as her own . . .
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Well . . . that was . . . interesting . . . Next chapter should be up soon ('cause I already wrote it, hehe). But I won't post it unless I get at least THREE reviews! Sounds pitiful, yes, but I never have much luck. Thanks for reading (if you really did *cough* Feathery Kuja *cough*) and remember, at least THREE reviews! Or this story goes bye-bye (again *grumble grumble*).