Final Fantasy IX Sequal, "Forever Fantasy"
folder
Final Fantasy Games › Final Fantasy IX
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
1,076
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Final Fantasy Games › Final Fantasy IX
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
1,076
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Final Fantasy IX, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
A Need to Console
************************
Hours later, which felt like mere minutes to Zidane, he was awakened by the sound of soft weeping. Zidane sat up, rubbing his eyes, still half asleep. He quietly looked around. The room was dark save for moonlight, and he saw nothing unusual.
“Kuja?” he called in a whisper. The sound stopped. Zidane listened intently but did not hear it again. He sighed and sat back, refusing to give up so easily…
After a span of a few minutes or so, Zidane heard the quiet crying begin again. This time Zidane did not utter a sound, but softly stood and moved unnoticed to the other side of Kuja’s bed. The sound was coming indeed, from Kuja himself. Zidane, being the loving and caring person he was, gently pulled back the covers, crawled into the bed, slid up behind Kuja, and put an arm around him; holding him close for comfort.
“Kuja,” Zidane said quietly, “why are you crying?”
“I do not really know…” Kuja’s voice quivered, his tears falling openly onto the pillow.
“There’s no need for you to cry…” Zidane whispered.
“Yes there is. There is every need… they hate me! They despise me Zidane!” Kuja cried passionately.
“What do you mean, they hate you? Of course they don’t!” Zidane was puzzled, “how can they hate you when we, ourselves, heard them forgive you?”
“I cannot understand how they could,” Kuja trembled.
Zidane pulled him closer, “listen Kuja… no one hates you here. I know these people better than anyone else, and when I say this, I do not lie. If they really did hate you, they would have killed you by now, and I would have been powerless to stop them.”
There was a moment of silence and then Zidane whispered, “I, for one… love you… We may be two almost opposite people, but we both share love, just as any other would.”
Suddenly, Kuja turned over and faced him. Zidane was utterly touched by the extreme innocent look in Kuja’s eyes, his tears dampening his cheeks. “Do you really… love me..?” Kuja asked, in a voice that sounded so much like a young child’s.
Zidane was silent a moment and then he said, “Yes… Kuja, I do. You are the only person who is like family to me. Nothing can change that.”
A small smile crept its way across Kuja’s lips. Zidane was a little shocked as Kuja, eyes shining in the light of the twin moons, leaned forward and kissed him gently. “Thank you Zidane… I… love you too…”
Zidane smiled, lips tingling softly from the brief contact with their twin, “yeah…” he whispered.
“I guess I’d better get back to sleep, huh? I wouldn’t want to miss tomorrow’s celebrations…” Zidane whispered, not taking his eyes from Kuja’s own. It was as if he were waiting for something.
Kuja put one arm under the pillow and gazed up at Zidane with a secretive look, “Ok... goodnight, Zidane…” he said.
Zidane smiled at Kuja for a moment longer and then got out of the bed and plodded over to the sofa and curled up in the blanket.
“Goodnight, Kuja…” he said. Within minutes, they were both fast asleep.
*********************
Hours later, which felt like mere minutes to Zidane, he was awakened by the sound of soft weeping. Zidane sat up, rubbing his eyes, still half asleep. He quietly looked around. The room was dark save for moonlight, and he saw nothing unusual.
“Kuja?” he called in a whisper. The sound stopped. Zidane listened intently but did not hear it again. He sighed and sat back, refusing to give up so easily…
After a span of a few minutes or so, Zidane heard the quiet crying begin again. This time Zidane did not utter a sound, but softly stood and moved unnoticed to the other side of Kuja’s bed. The sound was coming indeed, from Kuja himself. Zidane, being the loving and caring person he was, gently pulled back the covers, crawled into the bed, slid up behind Kuja, and put an arm around him; holding him close for comfort.
“Kuja,” Zidane said quietly, “why are you crying?”
“I do not really know…” Kuja’s voice quivered, his tears falling openly onto the pillow.
“There’s no need for you to cry…” Zidane whispered.
“Yes there is. There is every need… they hate me! They despise me Zidane!” Kuja cried passionately.
“What do you mean, they hate you? Of course they don’t!” Zidane was puzzled, “how can they hate you when we, ourselves, heard them forgive you?”
“I cannot understand how they could,” Kuja trembled.
Zidane pulled him closer, “listen Kuja… no one hates you here. I know these people better than anyone else, and when I say this, I do not lie. If they really did hate you, they would have killed you by now, and I would have been powerless to stop them.”
There was a moment of silence and then Zidane whispered, “I, for one… love you… We may be two almost opposite people, but we both share love, just as any other would.”
Suddenly, Kuja turned over and faced him. Zidane was utterly touched by the extreme innocent look in Kuja’s eyes, his tears dampening his cheeks. “Do you really… love me..?” Kuja asked, in a voice that sounded so much like a young child’s.
Zidane was silent a moment and then he said, “Yes… Kuja, I do. You are the only person who is like family to me. Nothing can change that.”
A small smile crept its way across Kuja’s lips. Zidane was a little shocked as Kuja, eyes shining in the light of the twin moons, leaned forward and kissed him gently. “Thank you Zidane… I… love you too…”
Zidane smiled, lips tingling softly from the brief contact with their twin, “yeah…” he whispered.
“I guess I’d better get back to sleep, huh? I wouldn’t want to miss tomorrow’s celebrations…” Zidane whispered, not taking his eyes from Kuja’s own. It was as if he were waiting for something.
Kuja put one arm under the pillow and gazed up at Zidane with a secretive look, “Ok... goodnight, Zidane…” he said.
Zidane smiled at Kuja for a moment longer and then got out of the bed and plodded over to the sofa and curled up in the blanket.
“Goodnight, Kuja…” he said. Within minutes, they were both fast asleep.
*********************