Final Fantasy IX Sequal, "Forever Fantasy"

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The following morning, Zidane was up with the sun. A soon as the first rays crept their way across the carpet and invaded his slumber, there was no way Zidane could possibly have fallen back to sleep, and besides, today was a big day.

Yes, today was Queen Garnet’s twentieth birthday and it was expected to be utterly extravagant. Nobles and friends were arriving from all over Gaia, besides everyone else who had booked guestrooms inside the castle. Zidane really didn’t want to wake anyone, and so he quietly tiptoed down the hallway and retrieved a robe from the washroom. After putting it on and tying the knot, Zidane grabbed a towel and walked silently up a flight of stairs to the Knights of Pluto training room. Steiner had had the place built after he decided that his regime needed some actual meat on their bones.

Zidane used the room often to keep his strength and muscular form in top shape. Lifting weights wasn’t exactly his most favorite way of staying strong; Zidane much preferred fighting monsters, but since there was a serious shortage of those after the mist had cleared, he really didn’t have many options.

After selecting a few choice weights, Zidane sat down on a wooden bench and began working his biceps with curls. Zidane finished that in minutes and then switched gears to chest, abs, and lower back. By this time, he had broken out in a fine sheen of sweat, pushing his body to its maximum capacity. He always looked forward to these little every-other day workouts when he got the chance. Plenty of his time was spent with Tantalus, but a majority of it revolved around the castle and Garnet.

“Ahh…” Zidane breathed hard as he set down the 280lb bar with weights he had been lifting. “That should do it for today,” he arched his back and stretched out his taut muscles, bringing some relief into his joints, “I should get back and wash up… I could use it,” Zidane said to himself as he mopped up sweat from the hind of his neck. He made his way back to the washroom only to find the tub missing.

“Damn,” Zidane hissed, “now I have to wait…” he stalked back to the bedroom and shut the door quietly behind him, remembering that there were those who were trying to sleep. He chanced a glance towards the canopy bed only to find that Kuja was not in it. Zidane looked around the room and in the far corner, there stood a folding screen with light floating through it. On the other side Zidane saw a shadow of a man with, to his horror, a flat bladed knife raised, poised to strike. Suddenly Zidane leapt into action.

“NOOOOO!!! KUJA, DON’T DO IT!!! YOU HAVE TOO MUCH TO LIVE FOOOR!!!… huh?” Zidane, who had sprinted across the room, ground to a screeching halt. “What the… Kuja!?” what greeted Zidane’s eyes was Kuja, sitting in the tub, water up to his navel, shaving. The so-called “knife” was only a simple flat razor.

“Zidane, what’s wrong?” Kuja looked surprised, completely innocent.

“Uhh… never mind,” Zidane quickly pushed the topic away, inside cursing his foolishness.

“Hey, you look sweaty… Want to join me? There is room for one more…” Kuja smiled, inviting Zidane to ‘share the space.’

“Uh… that’s ok… I can wait,” he said quickly.

“Suit yourself,” Kuja shrugged and went back to the task at hand; running the razor gently but firmly up the side of his thigh. This, of course, required his full attention.

Zidane sighed and flopped onto the couch, feeling clammy and wanting to wash up. He then decided to lay out what he planned to wear for the day. Zidane left the room and went to retrieve his belongings, which he kept in a storage closet one floor down. When he reentered the room, he put out his chosen items on the sofa; a black vest, much like his blue one, except it was made from smooth leather. The white shirt to be worn underneath was sleeveless with a high, ruffled collar. It had a small, leather tie at the throat. His pants were black with leather seams and gray-brown leather belt with silver buckles. His boots were tall gray-brown, not unlike his belt, with silver toe-caps and heels. Zidane’s gloves were black leather with large, shiny cuffs as finish.

He smiled with satisfaction at the carefully chosen items and then heard Kuja get out of the bath and come waltzing across the room, toweling himself dry. “Ahhh! A body feels so much better once it has been shaved smooth!” he crooned as he rubbed fragrant lotion all over himself.

Zidane chuckled quietly as he picked up the washtub and carried it out the door to dump the old water and fill it with new. When he returned, bearing the tub, he sat it behind the screen and eased his body down into the steaming water. “Hey Kuja, could you toss me a washcloth?” he called across the partition. Kuja laughed to himself and threw the rag over the screen, which almost hit Zidane in the face.

“Thanks…” he said sarcastically and began scrubbing his grimy form all over with sweet smelling lavender soap.

A wew minutes later, Zidane, feeling refreshed, jumped out of the tub and immediately began rubbing himself dry with a large bath towel. “Hey Kuja, whatcha’ gonna wear to the celebration?” the towel muffled Zidane’s voice as he worked his hair dry.

“Oh nothing fancy, just this…” Kuja answered.

Zidane pulled his head out from under the towel, hair in complete disarray, to find Kuja, standing in full regalia, next to the window.

Kuja wore a short, black vest, sporting a low, triangle shaped neckline that was cross-tied with leather straps. Light, airy, blue spear-shaped pieces of fabric hung from the sleeveless areas on his shoulders. His flat, smooth stomach was exposed until the waist band of his shiny, black leather thong. Long blue pieces of the airy blue material hung from silver studs all around the band, gradually getting longer towards the back. His thighs were exposed until about mid, for he wore tall, lustrous black and gray plated boots with silver toe and knee caps. Kuja also wore black, glass cuffs around his upper arms and blue forearm covers that came to a point at the elbows. All in all, he looked completely king-elegant, with a hint of erotic virtue.

“Holy crap! Nothing fancy!? You look like a prince!” Zidane stood, mouth agape.

Kuja laughed, “Oh Zidane! This is normal for me!”

“Yeah, I noticed…” Zidane said under his breath, obviously jealous.

“Put on yours! I want to see it…” Kuja said quietly.

“Oh, alright…” Zidane replied, rather reluctant. He figured that next to Kuja he would look like nothing more than a lowly peasant.

After a quick combing out of hair, which was now mostly dry, Zidane donned his chosen attire. “Well, well… You look very attractive Zidane. You chose your outfit with a good eye for style,” Kuja commented, obviously impressed.

“Aww… you’re just sayin’ that…” Zidane put a hand behind his head, embarrassed.

“No, I am serious. You look quite the lady’s man. I would be falling all over myself for you if I were them.” Kuja put a hand on Zidane’s shoulder and smiled genuinely.

“Heh… thanks Kuja,” Zidane’s chest swelled with pride, “I think I’ll have some tea sent up. We’ve got an hour or so to kill before we actually have to be down for the party.”

“That sounds wonderful. You do that and I will put away the wash things.” Kuja volunteered.

“Thanks,” Zidane smiled as he walked out the door, leaving Kuja to his self appointed task.

Zidane tracked down a servant girl and explained that he wanted some early morning tea and snacks sent up.
“Oh, of course, Mr. Zidane,” the woman curtsied low and smiled at him, “anything for you…” she turned and walked down the stairs.

“Hehheh…” Zidane buffed his nails on his vest, “still got it…” Zidane smiled to himself as he swaggered back to the room.

“Tea will be up in a few minutes,” he told Kuja.

“Good, I could use some…” Kuja answered, folding up the partition and ringing out the washcloths. “Remind me when after we have tea that I need to paint my nails,” he said, holding his hand out and staring at them.

Zidane hid a laugh as a knock sounded at the door. “I shall answer it!” Kuja beat Zidane to the door and opened it.

The serving girl smiled when Kuja opened the door and displayed the snack to him, “Here is the tea and treats that Mr. Zidane asked for,” she said.

“Thank you miss. Oh, and by the way,” Kuja smiled attractively at her, cocking his hips to the side, “I cannot understand someone as pretty as you being only a servant…” he took the tray from her nerveless grasp. She was obviously quite taken with Kuja’s charm and good looks.

“Oh really, you don’t mean that…” she blushed, becoming extremely aware of herself.

“Oh but I do…” he reached out and tenderly traced her jaw line with his fingertip, “you are quite the little flower…” Kuja brushed hair sensuously from his eyes. He noticed, with silent glee, the girl pressing her legs together.

“Um… I really must be going. I have other duties to attend to…” she quickly bowed and smiled, desperately trying to forget her body.

“Of course, I have kept you from your work. Well then, I hope to see you later… Goodbye,” Kuja winked and pursed his lips in mimic of a kiss. The girl blushed furiously and then abruptly turned and left, walking hurriedly away. Kuja shut the door behind him as he brought in the tray.

He eyed Zidane, who had a look of crestfallen dismay plastered all over his face. “Zidane, don’t ever say that I am not as good at charming the ladies as you are,” Kuja teased.

Zidane hung his head in defeat, “Fine… but I’ll never say that you are as good as me either!” He sat down at a small window-side table and Kuja joined him, setting the tray between them.

“Alright,” Kuja began, folding his hands, “I suppose that I owe you a bit so…. I shall teach you proper tea etiquette!” he said in all seriousness.

Zidane almost glared at him, “You mean that is the way you plan on paying me back!?”

“But of course, do you not want to be able to drink tea like a proper person with your beloved Dagger?” Kuja asked innocently.

Zidane sighed, knowing that he was cornered. “Oh alright… teach away,” he said looking at the tea with mild interest.

“Ok, I shall only be saying all of this once, and it is a one point lesson so you had best pay attention. First we will start with the tea itself.” Kuja motioned to the pot. “When serving friends, you always pour tea for them first. I will demonstrate… pick up the teapot in your right hand, by the handle, and gently pour the tea into your friend’s cup…” Kuja poured tea for Zidane, “do not slosh, and fill the cup until the tea level is approximately one centimeter from the rim. Do the same for yourself and then quietly put the pot back down on the tray.” Kuja did so and then turned to the sugar. “Always ask if your guest wants sugar in his or her tea. Would you like one lump or two?” he asked.

“Two please,” Zidane answered.

“Alright, when you put the sugar cubes into your friend’s cup, do not drop in the cube so that the tea splatters everywhere, gently ease it in, like this…” Kuja demonstrated by picking up a sugar cube between the small tongs and putting it gently into Zidane’s cup before adding another. Kuja then gave himself one lump and placed the tongs back onto the plate.
“Moving on, when you stir your tea, always do so with your left hand and in a clockwise direction. If you do it counterclockwise, then it will look like you have no sense of direction,” Kuja explained as he dissolved the sugar by stirring. “Good, now when you drink your tea, pick up the tea cup gently,” at that moment, Kuja eyed Zidane in a scrutinizing way, “with your right hand and sip it, do not gulp it, sip it. And besides, if you poured it down you would probably scald yourself and it would serve you right,” Kuja showed no mercy.

“Ah, let us move on to the snacks…” Kuja said, placing his cup back onto its saucer. “I see that out little friend gave us three different varieties. First, these small, round things with the holes in them? That is a butter cookie… mm, those are my favorite. This square cookie with the sugar sprinkled atop is a biscuit. And finally, this small lumpy thing is a crumpet. Now, when you eat these, do not eat them in one bite, do it slowly whilst carrying on a nice conversation with your guest, but do not speak with your mouth full. Also, refrain from taking a ton of them and hoarding them on your plate. That is bad manners, and it is greedy.” Kuja said severely.

“Ok Zidane, do you believe that you have remembered all of that?” he looked him straight in the eye.

“Yeah… I think I got it,” Zidane said, fairly confident.

“Alright then…show it all back to me,” Kuja folded his hands in his lap, waiting patiently.

Zidane breathed out heavily, preparing himself and then, slowly he began his arduous task, Kuja carefully watching over him, making sure he got each bit right without openly helping him. Zidane was very aware of how well he proceeded by the looks on Kuja’s face. Over all, he felt that he did a good job for his first try.

“Well, well, well… not bad, Zidane,” Kuja smiled when Zidane had finished, “I’m pleased that you did such a good job, but there is one thing you still need to work on…”

Zidane sighed, “What..?” he asked in a small voice.

“Do not be so uptight. If you squeeze the goddamn cups so hard, you will lose the feeling in your fingers. I noticed how white your knuckles were,” Kuja chuckled.

“Oh well jeez, I was under a lot of pressure!” Zidane lamented, indignant.

Kuja laughed, “It is alright. You did well enough with everything else and I am sorry for putting you on the spot,” Kuja tilted his head to one side, smiling.

“Ok well, thanks. I suppose I always have been a fast learner,” Zidane remarked, feeling better. “We really should go…” Zidane said before looking at the clock on the wall and then changing his mind, “uh… actually never mind. We still have half an hour left to kill.”

“Good, that gives me time to apply my makeup and paint my nails…” Kuja said, standing up and moving over to his black bag to retrieve the necessities. Zidane picked up the tea tray and took it out to leave it beside the door for a servant to find. He then reentered the room and found Kuja sitting at the vanity, putting on lipstick. Zidane shook his head in exasperation, ‘I guess it takes all kinds…’ he said to himself.

When Kuja had finished, his nails were painted black, he wore light blue eye shadow, silver-tinted eyeliner, and his lips were tinted a luscious lavender. Zidane smiled, insides secretly steaming with jealousy, “You don’t look half bad, Kuja. Nice colors! *steam steam*”

“Why thank you, Zidane. Now… you come and sit over here.” Kuja offered him his seat in front of the mirror.

“Woah! Wait a damn minute! You’re not gonna’ pretty me up, are you!?” Zidane leapt back in defense.

“No, I was merely going to bring out secret, hidden parts of your face, nothing more. I promise that you will not look like a prostitute…” Kuja nodded.

“Hey!! A prosti… Oh whatever! Just get it over with…” Zidane sat down on the cushioned stool and faced Kuja, who pulled up another stool and sat down.

“Alright, now. Just hold as still as you can… this won’t take a moment…” Kuja smiled and then got to work.

Zidane sat quietly whilst Kuja gently touched him up here and there. When he was finished, Kuja sat back and sighed, thoroughly pleased with what he had done.

“What? What is it? How do I look??” Zidane asked anxiously.

“Here… see for yourself!” Kuja motioned towards the mirror.

Zidane turned round and, as he saw his reflection in the glass, let out a quiet gasp. There he was, without any real pigment, looking every bit as good as Kuja. Zidane reached up and gently touched the side of his face, “Holy crap, is this me!?”
Kuja merely smiled, pleased that Zidane was happy.

“Woah! I have eyelashes!!” Zidane put his face right up to the mirror, inspecting further. As he finally sat back, Zidane looked at Kuja, “Ok Kuja, you’ve convinced me… I guess that… makeup… isn’t just for women after all,” he confessed.

“Correct! And you had best not forget it!” Kuja laughed and stood up. He ran a quick brush through his hair and then placed two silver rings in his ears.

“Oh hey… do you, uh… have any silver studs with you?” Zidane asked nervously.

“Actually.. yes, I have these here,” Kuja said, reaching into his case full of jewelry and bringing out two small silver balls on posts. “Is this what you want?” he asked.

“Yeah but, only one,” Zidane replied, taking one of the earrings and placing it in his right ear.

“I did not know that you had a pierced ear…” Kuja chuckled.

“Well yeah… my old friend Blank talked me into it last year.” Zidane said quietly, putting a comb through his hair and then tying it back loosely with a leather string.

“Ok! Let’s get going. I think I hear people down stairs…” Zidane said. After one more quick inspection in the mirror, Zidane and Kuja left the room and made their way downstairs to the gigantic banquet hall.


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