HOME | DD

Description
The tree was deafening. The roots rushed forward, a thousand leagues a minute. The reaction was becoming more and more violent with each passing second, closing in on the two men. And for the first time he could ever really remember, Zidane was scared, he was frightened. He was /panicking/.

The blonde genome knew the danger - the roots could pierce them, kill them, rip them asunder. He'd never be able to see Dagger's sweet smile, or hear her beautiful voice, or that teasing tone when she scolded him. He'd never get to hear Vivi stutter, or Eiko scream. He'd never get to sit down with Freya and just talk. He'd never get to see Amarant act cool again. Steiner would never scold him for hitting on Dagger again, he wouldn't get to see Beatrix marry her man. He'd never get to hear Ruby and Blank fight....Marcus act....Baku laugh....Quina cook...

He was going to die. Zidane, invincible Zidane, the man who held a group of eight together, the man who drove everyone on, who taught and was taught, was going to /die/.

So he did the first thing he could think of; he threw himself over his brother and sang his prayers. He sang as loud as his lungs could possibly let him. He sang until his voice was hoarse and cracking. He sang until he could no longer get a note past his dry, bleeding lips.

Then the darkness came.

---

Like every time he slept, he was surrounded by blue light. But, unlike that blue light, this was inviting. It was warm, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in it and sleep forever. But he wasn't allowed that. Something was shaking him, scratching him. Even tugging at his tail.

"Unnn...s-stoppit.../stoppit/," The young boy twisted, his eyelids twitching just barely. Another violent jab was stabbed against his ribs, and he doubled over slightly. After a few moments, he opened his eyes, "W-What are you d-doing, Vivi...?"

"Not Vivi," The voice was weak, but it was unmistakable - It was Kuja. The younger boy shifted to look at his silver haired brother, his eyes adjusting to the bright blue light, "Are you alright...?"

"I...I don't know," Zidane got up, squeezing his eyes shut. The light was too much, "Can't you dim that!?"

"It's a protect spell. It's keeping us alive," Normally, Zidane would have whined about him being brisk, but it was currently understandable. Zidane twisted to pop his joints, slowly allowing himself to adjust to the bright, glowing light. Kuja looked pallid in it, and his breathing was slightly laboured. He appeared to have no serious wounds. But he didn't need to have external wounds to have internal ones.

"You alright...?" Zidane scooted forward to check Kuja over. He was sweating, his eyes were slightly glazed over. It was a little alarming, but not too much so for someone using magic constantly. "Lemme see your tongue."

"/What/?" Kuja's chest heaved slightly, pitching him forward, nearly smashing into Zidane. The genome steadied the other man.

"It's something Baku taught me. Stick out your tongue," Zidane tried to seem as matter-of-fact as he could, although he was well aware that his childish features made it hard to believe someone wanted someone else to stick out their tongue for medical purposes. Hesitantly, Kuja's tongue peeked past his pale lips. Zidane grabbed the tip and yanked, causing Kuja to growl. "Hush, I'm lookin' at something..." It was pale. Zidane frowned and let his tongue go. "Infection?"

"I've been concentrated on healing you," Kuja admitted. That caused a raised eyebrow, and Kuja continued, "I figured that, if you're forcing me to stay alive, I have to return the favour." He didn't want to be alone anymore. He hadn't wanted to die alone, and if he had to live, he didn't want to do that alone, either. "Don't think it's because I give a damn."

"Well, heal yourself some. I have this way of avoiding death. I think you could let the protect spell down. Sounds like the worst of the storm is over."

Or maybe, they were just at the eye.

---

Cutting at the vines was no easy prospect. They were tightly woven, and a good amount of them were dead. Not to mention Zidane wasn't too sure how far down they were, and what direction he ought to be cutting in. All he really knew was that, if he didn't get out soon, he and Kuja were going to die of dehydration. At first, the live roots had enough water to keep them going, but the live roots were quickly dying off. It wouldn't be long until the entire tree was so dead it was nearly stone.

Kuja helped, certainly, but it turned out that, left without the ability to use his offensive magic, he was as physically able as the next mage. He could barely mark up the vines, much less cut through them. But it was help, and any ounce of it was appreciated.

"Don't you ever just give up?" Kuja finally asked, after a gruelling day of getting a mere few feet past the tightly interlocked 'forest'. There were a few new vines here, ones with at least enough water to allow them to survive. Kuja's normally pale face was flushed from the hard work, and Zidane was still hacking at the plants with a ferocious determination.

"What's the fun in giving up?" He pushed a hand through his sweat soaked locks. The brilliant gold had dulled to mousy brunette, from the dirt and the lack of sunlight. Even Kuja's hair was darkening from striking silver to a monochromatic grey. "You gotta keep pushing, you know? I gotta follow my heart, and my heart is saying we're gonna get out of here."

"...I don't understand you," Kuja mumbled, half-way closing his eyes.

"A lot of people don't."

Kuja clicked his tongue slightly in agreement. His genome counterpart just laughed slightly and then added, "Sometimes, I don't even understand myself." There was a few moments of silence, filled only by the sound of Zidane's dagger hitting the roots of the Iifa Tree.

"...Zidane."

The boy jumped and fell backwards, just barely having time to catch the dagger that had not-so-graciously flown out of his grasp. After a moment, he gave his brother a slightly dirty look, "Don't scare me like that, good lord. What's up?"

"....It's moving again."

Zidane barely had time to throw himself backwards before the vines began to violently thrash around.

---

The blue light was dim now. Supplies were short, and they were both mentally and physically exhausted.

"We're going to die in here," Kuja pointed out, shutting his eyes slowly. His body ached like nothing he'd ever felt before. It felt like the Gods were slowly tearing him apart. Zidane fared no better, his body battered and bruised, torn and bleeding. He was absolutely filthy, and he looked like he could fall asleep where he stood. But he wouldn't allow for that.

He could never allow for that.

"No, we aren't. Have some faith in me," He chewed at his lower lip, trying to ignore the taste of dried blood and dust. Kuja laughed dryly, causing him to go into a hacking fit.

"I tried having faith in you. And now we're going to die."

"We aren't going to die. I swear we aren't going to die," Zidane settled backwards. Kuja sighed and pushed a hand through his hair, wincing at the knots. He wished he had some sort of way to tell how much time had passed. It felt like an eternity.

It had at least been a month.

...Maybe more.

"If we aren't going to die, why are you just sitting here?"

"It's my lunch break," Zidane grinned, and some stray strands of hair stuck to his cheeks. Kuja groaned and set his forehead on his knees. There was no 'lunch'. Nothing but bugs. And the ex-angel of death was horrified that Zidane more than happily munched on the grubs.

It was bloody disgusting.

"There is no lunch to have a break /for/," He grumbled. Zidane shrugged.

"Enough to keep us alive. Cactrots have started to wander by. Dunno why they're bothering to come over here...the tree hasn't stopped wiggling yet," He stifled a yawn, "If you get to 'em fast enough, they taste pretty good. Water in their trunk, too. If one wanders by, that'll be our lunch."

"How do you even know it's lunch time?"

"My stomach says it's lunch time."

"Your stomach could be saying it's breakfast. Or dinner. Or tea time."

"My stomach has never once said it was 'tea time'."

Kuja rolled his eyes, "Fine, it's lunch." He began to use his fingers to break tangles up out of his hair. Zidane nodded, looking around to see what was coming towards them. Cactrots were preferable, but he would have settled for anything.

Without really thinking about it, he began to hum. Kuja gave him an irritated look, but didn't tell him to shut up. It wasn't like Zidane was tone-deaf, he had a lovely, slightly childish tenor. But singing wasn't the best thing to do at the moment.

A cactrot peeked out in response to the music.

Then again, perhaps the singing wasn't such a bad idea.

---

Cactrot was quite possibly one of the most vile things Kuja had ever eaten. But it was no where near as bad as the oglops Zidane kept catching and eating raw. He claimed it had protein, but all Kuja knew was it made a sick squishing noise every time he bit down on one.

And he just couldn't do that.

But it was food, and even if it was disgusting, he had to eat it.

Some people, he was aware, ate both cactrot and oglop as delicacies. But he wasn't one of those people. Seasoned or not, fried or not, /cooked/ or not, it just wasn't worth it. Cactrot tasted like sewage, and oglop tasted like...like...he had no idea.

It just didn't taste /normal/. Maybe 'death' would be a good way to put it.

Despite the occasional glare from Kuja, Zidane continued to sing. By now, the song had become so commonplace that, even if it bothered Kuja, he'd feel lost without his brother's singing. So it continued without much argument on the matter.

There was even less of an argument when Kuja saw the effects it was having on the plants around them. Every time Zidane sung, the vines relaxed, and nearly pulled away from one another. So relaxing was the song that even the dirt seemed to become loose.

It all made for easy cutting. Even Kuja could cut through the vines when they were like this.

"When we get out of here, you owe me a cup of tea. Blueberry with a teaspoon of orange blossom honey. And sugared strawberries," Kuja grumbled, "To make up for all that...disgusting whatever you fed me." Zidane rolled his eyes.

"Fine, but you owe me a side of beef. Medium rare, with rosemary, like Ruby makes it. And a raspberry tart with rum custard!" He slashed at a root, watching it flop over.

"Hmph. Knowing you, you'd settle for the rum. Keep singing."

It took hours, but they managed it. And for the first time in months, Zidane and Kuja saw the sunlight.

---

"We need supplies."

"I can't go in there."

"They won't mind. Come on, we need potions, and you definitely need an Ether. And it'd be awesome to spend the night in a place where we could take a bath."

"I /can't/ go in there. The ocean is right there, Zidane. We could just as easily buy a tent and bathe in the ocean."

"This coming from the snotty rich kid? Come on, I want to take a hot bath. And I want a hot meal. Black Mages are fucking awesome chefs. The Qu's have been teaching them stuff."

It wasn't like Kuja could argue any further. One, Zidane was already well on his way down the path to the village, and two, it wasn't like he could tell Zidane 'no' to a hot meal; he wanted one himself. Something that wasn't oglop or cactrot or grubs or root. But being crucified by the Black Mages AND the Genomes wasn't something Kuja looked forward to.

"Really, Zidane. This isn't necessary."

"They won't kill you. I won't let them," Kuja hesitated right outside of the entrance. He couldn't just walk in. All of these creatures, he tricked them and ruined their lives. And he was well aware that, if he wasn't scared for his own life, he probably wouldn't regret it.

Well, he would, but not as much as he was regretting it now.

At first, no one in the Black Mage Village thought anything of them walking in. It wasn't until they got a good look that they realised who Zidane was with. Almost instantly, the village hushed. The Genome's glared with hard eyes, and the Black Mages emitted their anger without speaking words.

The yelling then began.

"What are you doing here!?"

"Mr. Zidane, how could you bring him here!?"

"Get out of here, you scumbag! You already ruined our lives once before!"

"We just want to live peacefully! Leave us be!"

Zidane busily tried to calm them down, but it wasn't working. The longer Kuja merely stood there, however, the louder their yells got. The once timid creatures were livid enough to forget their politeness. Words Zidane didn't even think they knew slipped out of their mouths. Kuja was called everything from a heartless beast to a filthy scumbag to a lying son of a bitch.

It was only once Mikoto appeared that their voices hushed.

"That's enough," Her voice wasn't as blank as Zidane remembered it. She nearly sounded happy, something she had lacked back in Bran Bal. "He means us no harm. He doesn't even have the strength to harm us."

"But he-"

"I said that's enough. He's already begun to repent for his sins, he doesn't need your help," She walked forward and tightly embraced Zidane.

Mikoto's speech didn't ease Kuja's worry.

---

Baths were a good way to wash away stress. Just because he was a brigand at heart didn't really mean he had to look like one, or have the same mannerisms as one. Zidane liked to just sit there and soak for hours. One of the wonderful things about the village was that their water was not only the purest on earth (They made it themselves, after all), but it never got cold. Basically, if anyone wanted to relax, the Black Mage Village was the place to do it.

Of course, as far as Zidane knew, Kuja hadn't been relaxing at all. The man had been desperately trying to comb the snarls out of his hair last time his brother had seen him. And it was obvious that the worst of them didn't want to come out.

Which was why he was very much braced for the absolute cry of anguish that made it's way out of the room Kuja was assigned (in order for Miko to keep a close eye on him). Mikoto was probably trying to comfort him...at least a bit. Even if she stuck up for him, she still hated him. Everyone here hated him. But anyone who cried over their hair had to be somewhat pitied.

Zidane understood, though. Mikoto had said they had spent nearly five months stuck in that tree, living on the forest and fauna. And, in such situations, the littlest things could break a person. Even when the blonde Genome (who had nearly forgotten he was blonde until this bath) had first seen Kuja, it had been strikingly clear that his hair was his pride and joy. Meticulously combed, tapering into a gentle, soft point.

In hindsight, Zidane mused, his pale counterpart's hair was probably a work of defiance towards Garland. All the other Genomes had shimmering blonde hair, cut in a shaggy, carefree style. So Kuja just opted for the opposite route.

After a reluctant moment, Zidane slowly got out of the bath, dried off, and changed into the clothes provided for him by Mikoto. It wasn't too fancy, and it was just to wear until his stuff was cleaned and repaired, if it was indeed repairable. He was also given a hat by the mages, probably as a present. It was a tad silly looking on him, but he chose to wear it despite.

Finally, he steeled himself for walking into the bedroom. Kuja was curled up underneath his blanket. Little sobs were escaping his make-shift cocoon. Zidane edged forward, sitting at the foot of his bed. Kuja either hadn’t seemed to realise he was there, or he was just ignoring his brother’s presence. There was a few moments of silence, these moments neither awkward nor comfortable. It took a few moments for someone to break that silence, even though it nearly seemed so deep and indestructible that Zidane could have sworn he heard time passing.

“She cut my hair.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t look that bad. Let me see,” Zidane felt it was a silly thing to be upset over, but he still understood. Everyone had a security blanket.

“Like you would know! Don’t be glib, you know you’d just smile and tell me it looks good anyways, even if it was hellish,” Kuja grumbled. Zidane rolled his eyes before scratching at his side.

“Come on, you’re being vain. I thought you were supposed to be starting fresh here. Remember? Learning what life means and all that stuff,” He still wanted to be encouraging, but at the same time, he wanted to smack the hell out of his elder brother. Understanding was slowly losing to irritation. Zidane didn’t want to put up with the temper tantrum he knew Kuja was about to throw. He’d put up with one already, and it nearly cost him his life.

“Shut up!”

“Fine, throw a temper tantrum, I don’t care. Just don’t blow anything up and don’t try to kill me. I have important things to do, unlike you,” He was about to rise, but Kuja’s hand snaked out and snatched his wrist. Zidane paused, “You about done?”

“If you laugh, I will kill you.”

“I won’t laugh.”

It took Kuja a moment to get untangled from his blankets. After the initial struggle with the cloth, he tossed it aside, revealing hair that was a lot shorter than Zidane thought it would be. It didn’t look ridiculous, but he suddenly understood just /why/ Kuja was upset. Hair always grew back, but hair that was once to mid-back didn’t grow back terribly fast after five or six inches had been hacked off. Hell, that might have even been a foot. It was nearly as short as Zidane’s.

“You look like a fool in that hat,” Kuja muttered, desperately running his hands through his hair. He was looking for the length he was missing, and he wasn’t going to find it. It took a great deal of time to grow hair out as long as Kuja had it.

“Your hair doesn’t look that bad,” Zidane ruffled it up slightly, quickly drawing back when Kuja attempted to bite him, “Woah! What the hell!?”

“Don’t touch it. I had problems letting /her/ touch it. I don’t need both of you all over it.”

“You’re being vain again,” Zidane took the mage hat off his head, and set it down on Kuja’s, “If it’s bugging you so much, here. Wear a hat. And I promise my hair germs won’t mingle with your hair germs - My hair is way too clean to have germs.” Kuja gave him a sceptical look, and adjusted the hat slightly.

“I look like an idiot.”

“Yeah, but at least your hair isn’t showing.”

Despite this jab at his vanity, Kuja continued to wear the hat.

---

“So, there’s a cargo ship that’s coming here?”

“When it arrives, we’ll load it and it will be headed to Lindblum. It isn’t Alexandria, but it’s as close to your Princess as I can get you.”

“No, no, that’s great! The boys’ll be able to get me to Alexandria in a jiffy, anyways. Thanks so much, Miko, I owe ya a million.”

Mikoto blinked as Zidane ran off.

“A million of what...?”

---

While this cargo ship was newer than the last one Zidane had ridden in, that didn’t make it any better. It was cramped, the people running it were foul, and it was overall irritating. Kuja, of course, sulked about it, occasionally mentioning it’s not-so-wonderful fragrance. Zidane figured that, when they left the Iifa Tree, they didn’t smell that much better, but he didn’t want to tell that to Kuja. He’d probably somehow take offence to it.

The fact of the matter was that Zidane could care less about the cargo ship’s attributes. He was going home, and that was all that mattered. He would be around his friends and family.

Of course, Kuja had no such things to look forward to.

“You know, the instant they see me, they’re going to kill me.”

“Eh, maybe. I’ll convince ‘em not to,” Zidane reached to ruffle Kuja’s hair, but then quickly retracted his hand. The man had stopped wearing the hat, but was still very conscious about what had happened to his hair. Despite that, he wore it in a very pleasing style, pulled back with his bangs strategically arranged about his face. Zidane liked it, even if Kuja didn’t. It gave him a rougher look.

“How the hell are you going to do that?” Kuja hugged his knees to his chest. It was small things like this that were causing Zidane to see just what his brother was. He hadn’t been some frightening, looming force over Gaia. He was just a scared little boy who never got proper guidance. He’d never gotten a proper home. It caused him to fly apart at the seams.

It was a little sad, actually.

“I’ll talk to them. It’s pretty simple,” He pushed a hand through his hair, flashing a grin at his brother, “They’ll listen. They always do.”

Kuja shook his head and hugged his knees tighter. “I destroyed their homes and their lives. I killed your girlfriend’s mother. I took advantage of her greed and-”

“This is all shit Garland told you to do, isn’t it?”

“No. I was collecting Eidolons.”

“To break free from Garland.”

“You’re trying to see good in a situation that has no good, Zidane.”

“I’m just saying, it’s not necessarily your fault. You had reasons. We’ll explain that to them. They may not like you, but you’re my brother. If they don’t like you, we’ll find some place where they do like you, and we’ll live there.”

“...You’d give up Garnet for me? That’s stupid. For all you know, I hate you and want to kill you.”

When Zidane began to laugh, Kuja jumped. He hadn’t been expecting that. “If you wanted me dead, I’d have died in that tree. Admit it, you loooove me. You loooooooooooove me!” Kuja punched his arm, and Zidane pretended to be hurt. Once again, it was shown that physical strength was not Kuja’s strong suit. “Alright, fine. You’re so prissy.”

“You’re very close to being electrocuted.”

“Oh come on. You have /tea time/. You’re prissy.”

“I am not ‘prissy’. I am not kidding about electrocuting you. I will.”

“You could at least call it something more manly. Like ‘snack time’. But /tea time/?”

And then it happened. It was small, and a tad startling. But it happened. And it wasn’t insane or creepy, it was honest-to-god, and it was a little girly. But it /happened/.

Kuja actually laughed.

---

Lindblum was just as beautiful as Zidane remembered it. The rebuilding was going amazingly. It even seemed that they’d gotten around to rebuilding the Industrial District. It was still a little sketchy, but a least it was there. It was bustling, there were airships everywhere. It was his beautiful, busy Lindblum.

He could feel exalted joy in the pit of his stomach as the cargo ship landed in the airship docks. The only time he’d ever felt that excited was when he was acting alongside his old troupe. It was exhilarating, a rushing high, just to smell the mechanical air of his hometown.

Kuja, however, wasn’t as overjoyed.

“We’re gonna be going to the Theatre District, mm’kay? No one really knows you here, so...” Zidane gestured vaguely, “There’s no need to be scared or anything.”

“...These people lost loved ones because of me.”

“Kuja-”

“They lost their homes...”

“Kuja, listen-”

“I can’t just pass by them and pretend I did nothing...”

“That’s enough out of you. The fact that you’re sorry proves you’re allowed to move amongst them. Kuja, Lindblumites don’t hold grudges. We’re way too busy for that stuff. We’re a forgiving people. We just don’t have the time to bother to be angry forever. There are engines to build, food to make, stuff to sell. Plays to put on,” He pulled Kuja into a tight hug, holding on despite the fact that Kuja tensed hard enough to become a stone. “So forget about it. These people are too busy to give a damn.”

Kuja didn’t have the chance to protest this speech, however. Zidane let him go, grabbed his hand, and began to drag him towards the air cab terminal.

It was right then that Kuja realised why Zidane held Lindblum so close in his heart. In Treno, Kuja had been an odd one. He was pale, and back then he didn’t hide his tail. His feminine features made him a prime target for thugs, and once they figured out he was a man, he was instantly someone who had a ‘sexuality sickness’, as they were so fond of calling it.

In Lindblum, no one cared.

“Ooh, look! They rebuilt the Theatre! It’s huge! Heeeey, it looks like the cafe moved to a different District, that’s so cool! I wonder if he’s still making Dark Stew. I hope not, it tastes great, but it rips up your stomach. From here, it kind of looks like they’re building a fourth district. I didn’t realise it from the airship. I wonder what sort of district it’ll be, it’ll probably be for arts. Like Museums and stuff. I bet you’d like that district....”

Kuja couldn’t help but smile at Zidane’s rambling. A few of the air cab’s patrons were giving Zidane a slightly disapproving look, but the boy couldn’t care less. It was a childishness that Kuja felt almost envious of.

When they arrived, Zidane literally pushed his way out of the air cab, falling out in a little tumble of excitement. He was practically buzzing when Kuja finally stepped out of the cab.

“You really ought to calm down a little. You’re going to break somethin-” Zidane once again had a hold of Kuja’s hand, and they were running past people. But it took no more than five minutes to get to their destination.

The large clock was still ticking, and the building’s structure was back to normal. And there were voices inside.

But it was at this moment, the joyous moment that he had been waiting nearly a year for, that Zidane hesitated.

“...Zidane?”

“What if they’re not...happy to see me? I mean, what if coming back was all a huge mistake? Dagger might’ve found someone better, they all probably think I’m dead. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I popped up in Alexandria and no one wanted to see m-”

“AAA-AAACHOO!”

“SWEET UNHOLY BAHAMUT BAKU YOU HAVE GOT TO GET THAT CHECKED OUT!” Zidane clutched at his chest, breathing hard. Kuja shifted out of the way as Baku squinted at the ex-Tantalus member.

“...Zidane? Issat you?”

“In the flesh.”

“Well, I’ll be fuckin’ damned!!! BOYS, GET OUTTA THE SHOP! WE GOT US A SPECIAL VISITOR!”

“...Would it not be easier to move Zidane into the shop?” Kuja offered hesitantly. Baku squinted again, as if looking thoughtful.

“That is a better idea...NEVER MIND, WE’RE GOIN’ IN THERE!!!”

Zidane and Kuja exchanged looks. This was going better than expected.

---

They barely noticed Kuja as they all rushed around Zidane, demanding to know /everything/. What took him so long, how did he survive, why did he go in. Everything they could think of, they asked. It was about a half hour after they began questioning they /did/ notice Kuja.

“Did you replace Dagger or somethin’?” Baku itched his nose, studying Kuja, “Dagger’s much prettier. This one’s got kinda a manly quality about ‘er.” Kuja pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled slowly.

“That’s not a girl, Baku,” Marcus mumbled, adjusting his bandana, “That’s a dude. His name is Kuja. He’s Zidane’s brother.”

“Well I’ll be damned! You got one hell of a pretty brother!”

“I don’t think he appreciates you calling him pretty,” Marcus walked over to Kuja, “So, you’re the one who fucked everything up, eh?” Kuja shifted uncomfortably, looking at Zidane with a desperate fear. But Zidane just stood back, as if he knew exactly how this was going to play out.

That made Kuja much quite a bit more nervous.

“If you want to put it that way,” Kuja sounded like a shy little kid. He even looked the part, staring down at the ground, his hands clasped innocently behind him. In fact, he almost looked like he was being scolded.

It caused both Marcus and Baku to laugh.

“As long as Zidane thinks you’re alright, you probably are. He’s never wrong about a person.”

“Yes. He’s good about being wrong about /everything else/,” Blank pitched in, “But he’s a good judge of character. The fact that you’re here speaks volumes. If he trusts you, we’ll at least not kill you.”

“That’s very comforting,” Kuja replied, a tad dryly.

“If we /do/ kill you, we’ll at least make it painless,” Blank continued, smoothing down his hair. “Well, maybe. If Cinna does it, it’ll take a few tries. Try to pretend like it’s painless, though. It’ll make /us/ feel better.”

“It would make me feel better to use Flare Star on you if you try to kill me and it doesn’t work out so well. Can we meet in the middle?”

“What, you pretend you’re not hurt and then you kill /us/?”

“I’ll kill one of you.”

Zidane looked over at Marcus, and Marcus scratched his cheek, “This is terrible. They’re getting along. Soon they’ll be talking about what a terrible person you are, Zidane.”

“...This is the best ‘Welcome Back’ party ever,” Zidane muttered sarcastically. Marcus snickered.

“Better than nothin’.”

---

Dagger’s birthday was in a week. He’d been practising his ‘grand entrance’ for nearly a month now, since Ruby /insisted/ it would be far more romantic to be showy than it would to just show up. Kuja and Ruby argued for hours over that, but eventually Ruby won. Mostly because her voice became like a dog whistle when she got too upset.

It wasn’t like Zidane wanted to stick around and not see her. He dreamt of Dagger every night, being reunited with her. Marrying her, having lots of little babies everywhere. But he also had nightmares of rejection. Her shying away, her saying ‘I’ve found someone else, someone better’.

The what ifs were beginning to scare him.

“You need to calm down,” Kuja murmured. Practise had ended terribly, with Ruby, Kuja, and Blank all arguing over some technical stuff. Since Kuja was in charge of lights, stage effects, and props (“You’re already a part of the gang,” Zidane had remarked when he got the tech job), he got very angry when things were misplaced. Things like every prop of Ruby’s. And Ruby believed that Kuja was the one misplacing them. The argument had been very amusing for the first hour, especially when Blank stepped in to defend Kuja (Something that made Zidane feel like he needed to have a talk with his best friend). But then it got tiring, and Kuja eventually won.

It turned out that Kuja’s voice got rather high when he was upset, too.

“I can’t calm down. I’m going to see her so soon...what if she doesn’t...feel that way towards me anymore? What if she was mistaking her feelings for me? I love her, more than anything in the universe. I feel like, if I lost her, I...I just wouldn’t be able to go on. She’s what kept me going...she’s my angel,” Zidane sat down, taking a trembling breath, “I need her.”

“She’ll be waiting for you. Your canary isn’t one to mistake her feelings. She’s waiting for you, in her cage. You forget, Zidane, I’ve known her much longer than you have. She wears her heart on her sleeve. She would never give you up, not for anything,” Kuja set aside his brush, and then took something out of his hair. It was a small feather ornament. “If you’re really feeling that frightened, then here. This is my good luck charm.”

“...I don’t know, you’ve had pretty shitty luck all your life,” Zidane studied the trinket carefully. It was feathers from Kuja’s now deceased dragon very carefully glued onto a moonstone and diamond studded hair clip.

“I think the luck only just started to kick in. In any case, it’s lucky right now.”

“...Which luck are we talking about, us getting out of the Iifa Tree, or you meeting Blank?”

Zidane felt proud of the blush that burnt on Kuja’s cheeks.

---

This was it. This was the moment Zidane had been waiting just shy of forever for. They were in the middle of the play, his appearance was just a mere thirty minutes away. He was a mere thirty minutes away from seeing her, from hearing her voice, from touching her, from quite possibly /being/ with her.

His stomach was doing flips.

He couldn’t stop pacing back and forth, he couldn’t stop /moving/. This was one of the most defining moments in his life. He was either going to find his happily ever after, or his life would be smashed into oblivion.

The excitement mingling with the fear was beginning to make him sick.

“The play is going great,” Blank mentioned offhand, peeking in at a scene with Cornelia and King Leo, “This year’s a bigger hit than last year.”

“Last year,” Kuja quipped, grabbing up a prop as Ruby rushed in and grabbed it from him, “You kidnapped a Princess.”

“A fine point you have,” Blank acceded, leaning against a wall. Zidane groaned and squatted down, holding his head in his hands.

“You guys aren’t helping me feel any better.”

“We weren’t trying to.”

The fact that they said that at the same time wasn’t making Zidane feel much better, either.

He continued to pace, thinking of every moment he’d spent with Dagger. When she changed her name, when she made her first (or perhaps second) big decision and they headed for Lindblum. When she ran away, and when he found her, passed out, her Eidolons extracted. Their private moment in Madain Sari, when she passed out.

With each moment he thought of, his heart began to beat faster and faster.

Her becoming queen, her losing her voice, her cutting her hair. He got to watch her grow and flourish.

And dear Gods, he was madly in love with her.

“Zidane,” Kuja gently nudged him towards the stage, “You’re up.” When he hesitated, Kuja gave him a harder push, “Go set your canary free. She can’t fly with you if she’s in a cage.”

He stepped foot on stage.

Everyone was there, watching him. Thinking he was Marcus. They couldn’t tell with the cloak on. They couldn’t even tell he was nervous. Marcus’ voice wasn’t too far off from his own.

He wasn’t even thinking of his lines as he went through them. All he was concentrated on was the thump of his heart. He could hear his blood rushing. This was it, this was his moment. He’d had so many of ‘these moments’. But this...this was the biggest one.

He flipped the cloak off.

“Bring my beloved Dagger back to me!”

[Fin]

Description
The tree was deafening. The roots rushed forward, a thousand leagues a minute. The reaction was becoming more and more violent with each passing second, closing in on the two men. And for the first time he could ever really remember, Zidane was scared, he was frightened. He was /panicking/.

The blonde genome knew the danger - the roots could pierce them, kill them, rip them asunder. He'd never be able to see Dagger's sweet smile, or hear her beautiful voice, or that teasing tone when she scolded him. He'd never get to hear Vivi stutter, or Eiko scream. He'd never get to sit down with Freya and just talk. He'd never get to see Amarant act cool again. Steiner would never scold him for hitting on Dagger again, he wouldn't get to see Beatrix marry her man. He'd never get to hear Ruby and Blank fight....Marcus act....Baku laugh....Quina cook...

He was going to die. Zidane, invincible Zidane, the man who held a group of eight together, the man who drove everyone on, who taught and was taught, was going to /die/.

So he did the first thing he could think of; he threw himself over his brother and sang his prayers. He sang as loud as his lungs could possibly let him. He sang until his voice was hoarse and cracking. He sang until he could no longer get a note past his dry, bleeding lips.

Then the darkness came.

---

Like every time he slept, he was surrounded by blue light. But, unlike that blue light, this was inviting. It was warm, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in it and sleep forever. But he wasn't allowed that. Something was shaking him, scratching him. Even tugging at his tail.

"Unnn...s-stoppit.../stoppit/," The young boy twisted, his eyelids twitching just barely. Another violent jab was stabbed against his ribs, and he doubled over slightly. After a few moments, he opened his eyes, "W-What are you d-doing, Vivi...?"

"Not Vivi," The voice was weak, but it was unmistakable - It was Kuja. The younger boy shifted to look at his silver haired brother, his eyes adjusting to the bright blue light, "Are you alright...?"

"I...I don't know," Zidane got up, squeezing his eyes shut. The light was too much, "Can't you dim that!?"

"It's a protect spell. It's keeping us alive," Normally, Zidane would have whined about him being brisk, but it was currently understandable. Zidane twisted to pop his joints, slowly allowing himself to adjust to the bright, glowing light. Kuja looked pallid in it, and his breathing was slightly laboured. He appeared to have no serious wounds. But he didn't need to have external wounds to have internal ones.

"You alright...?" Zidane scooted forward to check Kuja over. He was sweating, his eyes were slightly glazed over. It was a little alarming, but not too much so for someone using magic constantly. "Lemme see your tongue."

"/What/?" Kuja's chest heaved slightly, pitching him forward, nearly smashing into Zidane. The genome steadied the other man.

"It's something Baku taught me. Stick out your tongue," Zidane tried to seem as matter-of-fact as he could, although he was well aware that his childish features made it hard to believe someone wanted someone else to stick out their tongue for medical purposes. Hesitantly, Kuja's tongue peeked past his pale lips. Zidane grabbed the tip and yanked, causing Kuja to growl. "Hush, I'm lookin' at something..." It was pale. Zidane frowned and let his tongue go. "Infection?"

"I've been concentrated on healing you," Kuja admitted. That caused a raised eyebrow, and Kuja continued, "I figured that, if you're forcing me to stay alive, I have to return the favour." He didn't want to be alone anymore. He hadn't wanted to die alone, and if he had to live, he didn't want to do that alone, either. "Don't think it's because I give a damn."

"Well, heal yourself some. I have this way of avoiding death. I think you could let the protect spell down. Sounds like the worst of the storm is over."

Or maybe, they were just at the eye.

---

Cutting at the vines was no easy prospect. They were tightly woven, and a good amount of them were dead. Not to mention Zidane wasn't too sure how far down they were, and what direction he ought to be cutting in. All he really knew was that, if he didn't get out soon, he and Kuja were going to die of dehydration. At first, the live roots had enough water to keep them going, but the live roots were quickly dying off. It wouldn't be long until the entire tree was so dead it was nearly stone.

Kuja helped, certainly, but it turned out that, left without the ability to use his offensive magic, he was as physically able as the next mage. He could barely mark up the vines, much less cut through them. But it was help, and any ounce of it was appreciated.

"Don't you ever just give up?" Kuja finally asked, after a gruelling day of getting a mere few feet past the tightly interlocked 'forest'. There were a few new vines here, ones with at least enough water to allow them to survive. Kuja's normally pale face was flushed from the hard work, and Zidane was still hacking at the plants with a ferocious determination.

"What's the fun in giving up?" He pushed a hand through his sweat soaked locks. The brilliant gold had dulled to mousy brunette, from the dirt and the lack of sunlight. Even Kuja's hair was darkening from striking silver to a monochromatic grey. "You gotta keep pushing, you know? I gotta follow my heart, and my heart is saying we're gonna get out of here."

"...I don't understand you," Kuja mumbled, half-way closing his eyes.

"A lot of people don't."

Kuja clicked his tongue slightly in agreement. His genome counterpart just laughed slightly and then added, "Sometimes, I don't even understand myself." There was a few moments of silence, filled only by the sound of Zidane's dagger hitting the roots of the Iifa Tree.

"...Zidane."

The boy jumped and fell backwards, just barely having time to catch the dagger that had not-so-graciously flown out of his grasp. After a moment, he gave his brother a slightly dirty look, "Don't scare me like that, good lord. What's up?"

"....It's moving again."

Zidane barely had time to throw himself backwards before the vines began to violently thrash around.

---

The blue light was dim now. Supplies were short, and they were both mentally and physically exhausted.

"We're going to die in here," Kuja pointed out, shutting his eyes slowly. His body ached like nothing he'd ever felt before. It felt like the Gods were slowly tearing him apart. Zidane fared no better, his body battered and bruised, torn and bleeding. He was absolutely filthy, and he looked like he could fall asleep where he stood. But he wouldn't allow for that.

He could never allow for that.

"No, we aren't. Have some faith in me," He chewed at his lower lip, trying to ignore the taste of dried blood and dust. Kuja laughed dryly, causing him to go into a hacking fit.

"I tried having faith in you. And now we're going to die."

"We aren't going to die. I swear we aren't going to die," Zidane settled backwards. Kuja sighed and pushed a hand through his hair, wincing at the knots. He wished he had some sort of way to tell how much time had passed. It felt like an eternity.

It had at least been a month.

...Maybe more.

"If we aren't going to die, why are you just sitting here?"

"It's my lunch break," Zidane grinned, and some stray strands of hair stuck to his cheeks. Kuja groaned and set his forehead on his knees. There was no 'lunch'. Nothing but bugs. And the ex-angel of death was horrified that Zidane more than happily munched on the grubs.

It was bloody disgusting.

"There is no lunch to have a break /for/," He grumbled. Zidane shrugged.

"Enough to keep us alive. Cactrots have started to wander by. Dunno why they're bothering to come over here...the tree hasn't stopped wiggling yet," He stifled a yawn, "If you get to 'em fast enough, they taste pretty good. Water in their trunk, too. If one wanders by, that'll be our lunch."

"How do you even know it's lunch time?"

"My stomach says it's lunch time."

"Your stomach could be saying it's breakfast. Or dinner. Or tea time."

"My stomach has never once said it was 'tea time'."

Kuja rolled his eyes, "Fine, it's lunch." He began to use his fingers to break tangles up out of his hair. Zidane nodded, looking around to see what was coming towards them. Cactrots were preferable, but he would have settled for anything.

Without really thinking about it, he began to hum. Kuja gave him an irritated look, but didn't tell him to shut up. It wasn't like Zidane was tone-deaf, he had a lovely, slightly childish tenor. But singing wasn't the best thing to do at the moment.

A cactrot peeked out in response to the music.

Then again, perhaps the singing wasn't such a bad idea.

---

Cactrot was quite possibly one of the most vile things Kuja had ever eaten. But it was no where near as bad as the oglops Zidane kept catching and eating raw. He claimed it had protein, but all Kuja knew was it made a sick squishing noise every time he bit down on one.

And he just couldn't do that.

But it was food, and even if it was disgusting, he had to eat it.

Some people, he was aware, ate both cactrot and oglop as delicacies. But he wasn't one of those people. Seasoned or not, fried or not, /cooked/ or not, it just wasn't worth it. Cactrot tasted like sewage, and oglop tasted like...like...he had no idea.

It just didn't taste /normal/. Maybe 'death' would be a good way to put it.

Despite the occasional glare from Kuja, Zidane continued to sing. By now, the song had become so commonplace that, even if it bothered Kuja, he'd feel lost without his brother's singing. So it continued without much argument on the matter.

There was even less of an argument when Kuja saw the effects it was having on the plants around them. Every time Zidane sung, the vines relaxed, and nearly pulled away from one another. So relaxing was the song that even the dirt seemed to become loose.

It all made for easy cutting. Even Kuja could cut through the vines when they were like this.

"When we get out of here, you owe me a cup of tea. Blueberry with a teaspoon of orange blossom honey. And sugared strawberries," Kuja grumbled, "To make up for all that...disgusting whatever you fed me." Zidane rolled his eyes.

"Fine, but you owe me a side of beef. Medium rare, with rosemary, like Ruby makes it. And a raspberry tart with rum custard!" He slashed at a root, watching it flop over.

"Hmph. Knowing you, you'd settle for the rum. Keep singing."

It took hours, but they managed it. And for the first time in months, Zidane and Kuja saw the sunlight.

---

"We need supplies."

"I can't go in there."

"They won't mind. Come on, we need potions, and you definitely need an Ether. And it'd be awesome to spend the night in a place where we could take a bath."

"I /can't/ go in there. The ocean is right there, Zidane. We could just as easily buy a tent and bathe in the ocean."

"This coming from the snotty rich kid? Come on, I want to take a hot bath. And I want a hot meal. Black Mages are fucking awesome chefs. The Qu's have been teaching them stuff."

It wasn't like Kuja could argue any further. One, Zidane was already well on his way down the path to the village, and two, it wasn't like he could tell Zidane 'no' to a hot meal; he wanted one himself. Something that wasn't oglop or cactrot or grubs or root. But being crucified by the Black Mages AND the Genomes wasn't something Kuja looked forward to.

"Really, Zidane. This isn't necessary."

"They won't kill you. I won't let them," Kuja hesitated right outside of the entrance. He couldn't just walk in. All of these creatures, he tricked them and ruined their lives. And he was well aware that, if he wasn't scared for his own life, he probably wouldn't regret it.

Well, he would, but not as much as he was regretting it now.

At first, no one in the Black Mage Village thought anything of them walking in. It wasn't until they got a good look that they realised who Zidane was with. Almost instantly, the village hushed. The Genome's glared with hard eyes, and the Black Mages emitted their anger without speaking words.

The yelling then began.

"What are you doing here!?"

"Mr. Zidane, how could you bring him here!?"

"Get out of here, you scumbag! You already ruined our lives once before!"

"We just want to live peacefully! Leave us be!"

Zidane busily tried to calm them down, but it wasn't working. The longer Kuja merely stood there, however, the louder their yells got. The once timid creatures were livid enough to forget their politeness. Words Zidane didn't even think they knew slipped out of their mouths. Kuja was called everything from a heartless beast to a filthy scumbag to a lying son of a bitch.

It was only once Mikoto appeared that their voices hushed.

"That's enough," Her voice wasn't as blank as Zidane remembered it. She nearly sounded happy, something she had lacked back in Bran Bal. "He means us no harm. He doesn't even have the strength to harm us."

"But he-"

"I said that's enough. He's already begun to repent for his sins, he doesn't need your help," She walked forward and tightly embraced Zidane.

Mikoto's speech didn't ease Kuja's worry.

---

Baths were a good way to wash away stress. Just because he was a brigand at heart didn't really mean he had to look like one, or have the same mannerisms as one. Zidane liked to just sit there and soak for hours. One of the wonderful things about the village was that their water was not only the purest on earth (They made it themselves, after all), but it never got cold. Basically, if anyone wanted to relax, the Black Mage Village was the place to do it.

Of course, as far as Zidane knew, Kuja hadn't been relaxing at all. The man had been desperately trying to comb the snarls out of his hair last time his brother had seen him. And it was obvious that the worst of them didn't want to come out.

Which was why he was very much braced for the absolute cry of anguish that made it's way out of the room Kuja was assigned (in order for Miko to keep a close eye on him). Mikoto was probably trying to comfort him...at least a bit. Even if she stuck up for him, she still hated him. Everyone here hated him. But anyone who cried over their hair had to be somewhat pitied.

Zidane understood, though. Mikoto had said they had spent nearly five months stuck in that tree, living on the forest and fauna. And, in such situations, the littlest things could break a person. Even when the blonde Genome (who had nearly forgotten he was blonde until this bath) had first seen Kuja, it had been strikingly clear that his hair was his pride and joy. Meticulously combed, tapering into a gentle, soft point.

In hindsight, Zidane mused, his pale counterpart's hair was probably a work of defiance towards Garland. All the other Genomes had shimmering blonde hair, cut in a shaggy, carefree style. So Kuja just opted for the opposite route.

After a reluctant moment, Zidane slowly got out of the bath, dried off, and changed into the clothes provided for him by Mikoto. It wasn't too fancy, and it was just to wear until his stuff was cleaned and repaired, if it was indeed repairable. He was also given a hat by the mages, probably as a present. It was a tad silly looking on him, but he chose to wear it despite.

Finally, he steeled himself for walking into the bedroom. Kuja was curled up underneath his blanket. Little sobs were escaping his make-shift cocoon. Zidane edged forward, sitting at the foot of his bed. Kuja either hadn’t seemed to realise he was there, or he was just ignoring his brother’s presence. There was a few moments of silence, these moments neither awkward nor comfortable. It took a few moments for someone to break that silence, even though it nearly seemed so deep and indestructible that Zidane could have sworn he heard time passing.

“She cut my hair.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t look that bad. Let me see,” Zidane felt it was a silly thing to be upset over, but he still understood. Everyone had a security blanket.

“Like you would know! Don’t be glib, you know you’d just smile and tell me it looks good anyways, even if it was hellish,” Kuja grumbled. Zidane rolled his eyes before scratching at his side.

“Come on, you’re being vain. I thought you were supposed to be starting fresh here. Remember? Learning what life means and all that stuff,” He still wanted to be encouraging, but at the same time, he wanted to smack the hell out of his elder brother. Understanding was slowly losing to irritation. Zidane didn’t want to put up with the temper tantrum he knew Kuja was about to throw. He’d put up with one already, and it nearly cost him his life.

“Shut up!”

“Fine, throw a temper tantrum, I don’t care. Just don’t blow anything up and don’t try to kill me. I have important things to do, unlike you,” He was about to rise, but Kuja’s hand snaked out and snatched his wrist. Zidane paused, “You about done?”

“If you laugh, I will kill you.”

“I won’t laugh.”

It took Kuja a moment to get untangled from his blankets. After the initial struggle with the cloth, he tossed it aside, revealing hair that was a lot shorter than Zidane thought it would be. It didn’t look ridiculous, but he suddenly understood just /why/ Kuja was upset. Hair always grew back, but hair that was once to mid-back didn’t grow back terribly fast after five or six inches had been hacked off. Hell, that might have even been a foot. It was nearly as short as Zidane’s.

“You look like a fool in that hat,” Kuja muttered, desperately running his hands through his hair. He was looking for the length he was missing, and he wasn’t going to find it. It took a great deal of time to grow hair out as long as Kuja had it.

“Your hair doesn’t look that bad,” Zidane ruffled it up slightly, quickly drawing back when Kuja attempted to bite him, “Woah! What the hell!?”

“Don’t touch it. I had problems letting /her/ touch it. I don’t need both of you all over it.”

“You’re being vain again,” Zidane took the mage hat off his head, and set it down on Kuja’s, “If it’s bugging you so much, here. Wear a hat. And I promise my hair germs won’t mingle with your hair germs - My hair is way too clean to have germs.” Kuja gave him a sceptical look, and adjusted the hat slightly.

“I look like an idiot.”

“Yeah, but at least your hair isn’t showing.”

Despite this jab at his vanity, Kuja continued to wear the hat.

---

“So, there’s a cargo ship that’s coming here?”

“When it arrives, we’ll load it and it will be headed to Lindblum. It isn’t Alexandria, but it’s as close to your Princess as I can get you.”

“No, no, that’s great! The boys’ll be able to get me to Alexandria in a jiffy, anyways. Thanks so much, Miko, I owe ya a million.”

Mikoto blinked as Zidane ran off.

“A million of what...?”

---

While this cargo ship was newer than the last one Zidane had ridden in, that didn’t make it any better. It was cramped, the people running it were foul, and it was overall irritating. Kuja, of course, sulked about it, occasionally mentioning it’s not-so-wonderful fragrance. Zidane figured that, when they left the Iifa Tree, they didn’t smell that much better, but he didn’t want to tell that to Kuja. He’d probably somehow take offence to it.

The fact of the matter was that Zidane could care less about the cargo ship’s attributes. He was going home, and that was all that mattered. He would be around his friends and family.

Of course, Kuja had no such things to look forward to.

“You know, the instant they see me, they’re going to kill me.”

“Eh, maybe. I’ll convince ‘em not to,” Zidane reached to ruffle Kuja’s hair, but then quickly retracted his hand. The man had stopped wearing the hat, but was still very conscious about what had happened to his hair. Despite that, he wore it in a very pleasing style, pulled back with his bangs strategically arranged about his face. Zidane liked it, even if Kuja didn’t. It gave him a rougher look.

“How the hell are you going to do that?” Kuja hugged his knees to his chest. It was small things like this that were causing Zidane to see just what his brother was. He hadn’t been some frightening, looming force over Gaia. He was just a scared little boy who never got proper guidance. He’d never gotten a proper home. It caused him to fly apart at the seams.

It was a little sad, actually.

“I’ll talk to them. It’s pretty simple,” He pushed a hand through his hair, flashing a grin at his brother, “They’ll listen. They always do.”

Kuja shook his head and hugged his knees tighter. “I destroyed their homes and their lives. I killed your girlfriend’s mother. I took advantage of her greed and-”

“This is all shit Garland told you to do, isn’t it?”

“No. I was collecting Eidolons.”

“To break free from Garland.”

“You’re trying to see good in a situation that has no good, Zidane.”

“I’m just saying, it’s not necessarily your fault. You had reasons. We’ll explain that to them. They may not like you, but you’re my brother. If they don’t like you, we’ll find some place where they do like you, and we’ll live there.”

“...You’d give up Garnet for me? That’s stupid. For all you know, I hate you and want to kill you.”

When Zidane began to laugh, Kuja jumped. He hadn’t been expecting that. “If you wanted me dead, I’d have died in that tree. Admit it, you loooove me. You loooooooooooove me!” Kuja punched his arm, and Zidane pretended to be hurt. Once again, it was shown that physical strength was not Kuja’s strong suit. “Alright, fine. You’re so prissy.”

“You’re very close to being electrocuted.”

“Oh come on. You have /tea time/. You’re prissy.”

“I am not ‘prissy’. I am not kidding about electrocuting you. I will.”

“You could at least call it something more manly. Like ‘snack time’. But /tea time/?”

And then it happened. It was small, and a tad startling. But it happened. And it wasn’t insane or creepy, it was honest-to-god, and it was a little girly. But it /happened/.

Kuja actually laughed.

---

Lindblum was just as beautiful as Zidane remembered it. The rebuilding was going amazingly. It even seemed that they’d gotten around to rebuilding the Industrial District. It was still a little sketchy, but a least it was there. It was bustling, there were airships everywhere. It was his beautiful, busy Lindblum.

He could feel exalted joy in the pit of his stomach as the cargo ship landed in the airship docks. The only time he’d ever felt that excited was when he was acting alongside his old troupe. It was exhilarating, a rushing high, just to smell the mechanical air of his hometown.

Kuja, however, wasn’t as overjoyed.

“We’re gonna be going to the Theatre District, mm’kay? No one really knows you here, so...” Zidane gestured vaguely, “There’s no need to be scared or anything.”

“...These people lost loved ones because of me.”

“Kuja-”

“They lost their homes...”

“Kuja, listen-”

“I can’t just pass by them and pretend I did nothing...”

“That’s enough out of you. The fact that you’re sorry proves you’re allowed to move amongst them. Kuja, Lindblumites don’t hold grudges. We’re way too busy for that stuff. We’re a forgiving people. We just don’t have the time to bother to be angry forever. There are engines to build, food to make, stuff to sell. Plays to put on,” He pulled Kuja into a tight hug, holding on despite the fact that Kuja tensed hard enough to become a stone. “So forget about it. These people are too busy to give a damn.”

Kuja didn’t have the chance to protest this speech, however. Zidane let him go, grabbed his hand, and began to drag him towards the air cab terminal.

It was right then that Kuja realised why Zidane held Lindblum so close in his heart. In Treno, Kuja had been an odd one. He was pale, and back then he didn’t hide his tail. His feminine features made him a prime target for thugs, and once they figured out he was a man, he was instantly someone who had a ‘sexuality sickness’, as they were so fond of calling it.

In Lindblum, no one cared.

“Ooh, look! They rebuilt the Theatre! It’s huge! Heeeey, it looks like the cafe moved to a different District, that’s so cool! I wonder if he’s still making Dark Stew. I hope not, it tastes great, but it rips up your stomach. From here, it kind of looks like they’re building a fourth district. I didn’t realise it from the airship. I wonder what sort of district it’ll be, it’ll probably be for arts. Like Museums and stuff. I bet you’d like that district....”

Kuja couldn’t help but smile at Zidane’s rambling. A few of the air cab’s patrons were giving Zidane a slightly disapproving look, but the boy couldn’t care less. It was a childishness that Kuja felt almost envious of.

When they arrived, Zidane literally pushed his way out of the air cab, falling out in a little tumble of excitement. He was practically buzzing when Kuja finally stepped out of the cab.

“You really ought to calm down a little. You’re going to break somethin-” Zidane once again had a hold of Kuja’s hand, and they were running past people. But it took no more than five minutes to get to their destination.

The large clock was still ticking, and the building’s structure was back to normal. And there were voices inside.

But it was at this moment, the joyous moment that he had been waiting nearly a year for, that Zidane hesitated.

“...Zidane?”

“What if they’re not...happy to see me? I mean, what if coming back was all a huge mistake? Dagger might’ve found someone better, they all probably think I’m dead. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I popped up in Alexandria and no one wanted to see m-”

“AAA-AAACHOO!”

“SWEET UNHOLY BAHAMUT BAKU YOU HAVE GOT TO GET THAT CHECKED OUT!” Zidane clutched at his chest, breathing hard. Kuja shifted out of the way as Baku squinted at the ex-Tantalus member.

“...Zidane? Issat you?”

“In the flesh.”

“Well, I’ll be fuckin’ damned!!! BOYS, GET OUTTA THE SHOP! WE GOT US A SPECIAL VISITOR!”

“...Would it not be easier to move Zidane into the shop?” Kuja offered hesitantly. Baku squinted again, as if looking thoughtful.

“That is a better idea...NEVER MIND, WE’RE GOIN’ IN THERE!!!”

Zidane and Kuja exchanged looks. This was going better than expected.

---

They barely noticed Kuja as they all rushed around Zidane, demanding to know /everything/. What took him so long, how did he survive, why did he go in. Everything they could think of, they asked. It was about a half hour after they began questioning they /did/ notice Kuja.

“Did you replace Dagger or somethin’?” Baku itched his nose, studying Kuja, “Dagger’s much prettier. This one’s got kinda a manly quality about ‘er.” Kuja pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled slowly.

“That’s not a girl, Baku,” Marcus mumbled, adjusting his bandana, “That’s a dude. His name is Kuja. He’s Zidane’s brother.”

“Well I’ll be damned! You got one hell of a pretty brother!”

“I don’t think he appreciates you calling him pretty,” Marcus walked over to Kuja, “So, you’re the one who fucked everything up, eh?” Kuja shifted uncomfortably, looking at Zidane with a desperate fear. But Zidane just stood back, as if he knew exactly how this was going to play out.

That made Kuja much quite a bit more nervous.

“If you want to put it that way,” Kuja sounded like a shy little kid. He even looked the part, staring down at the ground, his hands clasped innocently behind him. In fact, he almost looked like he was being scolded.

It caused both Marcus and Baku to laugh.

“As long as Zidane thinks you’re alright, you probably are. He’s never wrong about a person.”

“Yes. He’s good about being wrong about /everything else/,” Blank pitched in, “But he’s a good judge of character. The fact that you’re here speaks volumes. If he trusts you, we’ll at least not kill you.”

“That’s very comforting,” Kuja replied, a tad dryly.

“If we /do/ kill you, we’ll at least make it painless,” Blank continued, smoothing down his hair. “Well, maybe. If Cinna does it, it’ll take a few tries. Try to pretend like it’s painless, though. It’ll make /us/ feel better.”

“It would make me feel better to use Flare Star on you if you try to kill me and it doesn’t work out so well. Can we meet in the middle?”

“What, you pretend you’re not hurt and then you kill /us/?”

“I’ll kill one of you.”

Zidane looked over at Marcus, and Marcus scratched his cheek, “This is terrible. They’re getting along. Soon they’ll be talking about what a terrible person you are, Zidane.”

“...This is the best ‘Welcome Back’ party ever,” Zidane muttered sarcastically. Marcus snickered.

“Better than nothin’.”

---

Dagger’s birthday was in a week. He’d been practising his ‘grand entrance’ for nearly a month now, since Ruby /insisted/ it would be far more romantic to be showy than it would to just show up. Kuja and Ruby argued for hours over that, but eventually Ruby won. Mostly because her voice became like a dog whistle when she got too upset.

It wasn’t like Zidane wanted to stick around and not see her. He dreamt of Dagger every night, being reunited with her. Marrying her, having lots of little babies everywhere. But he also had nightmares of rejection. Her shying away, her saying ‘I’ve found someone else, someone better’.

The what ifs were beginning to scare him.

“You need to calm down,” Kuja murmured. Practise had ended terribly, with Ruby, Kuja, and Blank all arguing over some technical stuff. Since Kuja was in charge of lights, stage effects, and props (“You’re already a part of the gang,” Zidane had remarked when he got the tech job), he got very angry when things were misplaced. Things like every prop of Ruby’s. And Ruby believed that Kuja was the one misplacing them. The argument had been very amusing for the first hour, especially when Blank stepped in to defend Kuja (Something that made Zidane feel like he needed to have a talk with his best friend). But then it got tiring, and Kuja eventually won.

It turned out that Kuja’s voice got rather high when he was upset, too.

“I can’t calm down. I’m going to see her so soon...what if she doesn’t...feel that way towards me anymore? What if she was mistaking her feelings for me? I love her, more than anything in the universe. I feel like, if I lost her, I...I just wouldn’t be able to go on. She’s what kept me going...she’s my angel,” Zidane sat down, taking a trembling breath, “I need her.”

“She’ll be waiting for you. Your canary isn’t one to mistake her feelings. She’s waiting for you, in her cage. You forget, Zidane, I’ve known her much longer than you have. She wears her heart on her sleeve. She would never give you up, not for anything,” Kuja set aside his brush, and then took something out of his hair. It was a small feather ornament. “If you’re really feeling that frightened, then here. This is my good luck charm.”

“...I don’t know, you’ve had pretty shitty luck all your life,” Zidane studied the trinket carefully. It was feathers from Kuja’s now deceased dragon very carefully glued onto a moonstone and diamond studded hair clip.

“I think the luck only just started to kick in. In any case, it’s lucky right now.”

“...Which luck are we talking about, us getting out of the Iifa Tree, or you meeting Blank?”

Zidane felt proud of the blush that burnt on Kuja’s cheeks.

---

This was it. This was the moment Zidane had been waiting just shy of forever for. They were in the middle of the play, his appearance was just a mere thirty minutes away. He was a mere thirty minutes away from seeing her, from hearing her voice, from touching her, from quite possibly /being/ with her.

His stomach was doing flips.

He couldn’t stop pacing back and forth, he couldn’t stop /moving/. This was one of the most defining moments in his life. He was either going to find his happily ever after, or his life would be smashed into oblivion.

The excitement mingling with the fear was beginning to make him sick.

“The play is going great,” Blank mentioned offhand, peeking in at a scene with Cornelia and King Leo, “This year’s a bigger hit than last year.”

“Last year,” Kuja quipped, grabbing up a prop as Ruby rushed in and grabbed it from him, “You kidnapped a Princess.”

“A fine point you have,” Blank acceded, leaning against a wall. Zidane groaned and squatted down, holding his head in his hands.

“You guys aren’t helping me feel any better.”

“We weren’t trying to.”

The fact that they said that at the same time wasn’t making Zidane feel much better, either.

He continued to pace, thinking of every moment he’d spent with Dagger. When she changed her name, when she made her first (or perhaps second) big decision and they headed for Lindblum. When she ran away, and when he found her, passed out, her Eidolons extracted. Their private moment in Madain Sari, when she passed out.

With each moment he thought of, his heart began to beat faster and faster.

Her becoming queen, her losing her voice, her cutting her hair. He got to watch her grow and flourish.

And dear Gods, he was madly in love with her.

“Zidane,” Kuja gently nudged him towards the stage, “You’re up.” When he hesitated, Kuja gave him a harder push, “Go set your canary free. She can’t fly with you if she’s in a cage.”

He stepped foot on stage.

Everyone was there, watching him. Thinking he was Marcus. They couldn’t tell with the cloak on. They couldn’t even tell he was nervous. Marcus’ voice wasn’t too far off from his own.

He wasn’t even thinking of his lines as he went through them. All he was concentrated on was the thump of his heart. He could hear his blood rushing. This was it, this was his moment. He’d had so many of ‘these moments’. But this...this was the biggest one.

He flipped the cloak off.

“Bring my beloved Dagger back to me!”

[Fin]