Final Fantasy IX Sequal, "Forever Fantasy"

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“Thank Ramuh, made it!” Zidane breathed a sigh of relief as Choco flew over the last mountain chain and came in sight of the ever-shifting sands of the Kiera desert. “Go west, Choco! Kuja’s palace should be on the other side of that cliff,” Zidane directed.

“Kweh!” Choco changed course and moved towards a high cliff big enough to fit a small city inside.

“Down there!” Zidane pointed to a well-hidden crag in the side of the rock. Mostly secluded by brush, the huge chasm, which was once an airship dock, opened up in front of them when Zidane and Choco landed inside. “Thanks Choco, I couldn’t have got this far without you,” Zidane scratched the fluffy golden bird underneath it’s chin.

“Kwehhh…” it crooned, enjoying the attention.

“Hey, I was gonna give this to you later but… here…” Zidane reached into the satchel at his side and pulled out a large, purple tuber. This strange turnip-like root was Gysahl Greens, a Chocobo’s favorite food.

“K! KWEH!” Choco cried and took the tuber from Zidane’s outstretched hand.

“Haha! Thought you’d like it!” he laughed, “anyway, umm… I’m going to take Kuja inside and uh… I might be a while so… do you think that you could hang around this area for a bit?” Zidane asked hopefully, “I really need you just in case.”

“Kweh,” Choco nodded, ever loyal.

“Thanks, Choco! I’ll give you as many Gysahl Greens as you want as soon as we reach Alexandria, oh, and a few Dead Peppers too!” Zidane said.

“KWEH!” Choco cried with joy and did a little dance.

“Alright, be back soon!” he said over his shoulder as Zidane carefully rearranged Kuja in his arms and disappeared into the dock’s opening.

“If I’m not mistaken,” Zidane said to himself, “there should be a teleporter around here somewhere… Ah! There it is!” Zidane sauntered over to a circular dais set up in a far corner of the chasm. “Gosh… I sure hope it still works…” he cautiously tapped it with the toe of his boot, and was then rewarded with a soft, bluish glow. “Yes, my luck must really be holding out today!” Zidane rejoiced at his good fortune and then commenced to standing on the circular platform. There was a humming sound and then Zidane, with his burden, disappeared in a flash of blue particles.

A few moments later, there was another flash and Zidane appeared within a room. This one was grandly furnished, carpeted and decorated in somewhat of a gothic motif, but age had begun to wear upon it, dust layering the stonework and cobwebs clinging to the ceiling and walls. Zidane, at first, was awestruck at the room’s undying beauty but soon brought himself back to the matter at hand. “This has got to be Kuja’s own bedroom,” he said quietly, walking over to a massive canopy four-poster bed where he gently laid Kuja down on the soft mattress. He pulled down the covers and sheets and quietly wrapped up Kuja’s still chilly body to keep warm. Zidane looked around and found a fireplace, after which he took flint and tinder out of his satchel to strike over the old, unburned wood. A spark flew and then caught on the solid pitch leaking out from the logs and soon had a strong fire going.

“Kuja…” Zidane went to stand by the bed. He leaned down to listen and found that, thankfully, Kuja was still breathing. “Gods, I can’t believe this is real. I can’t believe… that you have really returned to me…” Zidane knelt by the pillow, looking into Kuja’s face and seeing the color slowly returning. Suddenly, Zidane yawned. Up until that moment, he hadn’t noticed just how exhausted he was from the ordeal he had been through earlier. “Maybe I’ll just… rest my eyes…” Zidane whispered as he laid his head down on his arms and gently, without knowing it, drifted into a light slumber.

It was about at that time that Kuja’s eyes slowly fluttered open. “Hmmm… mmm… uh?” he blinked twice, “Wh… where am…I?” he said, raising his head. “Is… is this my palace?” he wondered out loud. “It cannot be…” Kuja sat up, gently raised a hand and brushed his hair back from his face, “I’m… alive?” He touched himself all over just to make sure, “I’m alive! I cannot believe it! I’m alive!” Kuja suddenly stopped. “Who?” he finally noticed Zidane who was still dozing against the bedpost, making soft snoring noises. “I… you… Zi… Zidane?” Kuja reached out and touched his cheek, quietly contemplating, “Zidane? Wake up, Zidane…”

“What… huh? Oh… KUJA! You’re awake!?” Zidane leapt up, “I was so worried that you wouldn’t be ok!”

“What are you doing here, Zidane? What is going on? Why am I here?” Kuja asked quietly.


“You… you don’t remember?” Zidane was utterly shocked.


“Not much actually… I know that I was dead… but a lot of things before that are a complete blank, I am sorry,” Kuja answered.

“It’s probably just a side effect from being a stiff, it should wear off soon,” Zidane said, completely sure of himself.

“I hope you are right…” Kuja looked up at him, his eyes full of newborn innocence.

“So, how do you feel?” Zidane said, sitting down on the side of the bed.

“Alright, I suppose, for being recently deceased…” Kuja answered.

“Can I ask you something?” Zidane said.

“Go ahead,” Kuja looked up at him.

“Well, what did you… I mean, how did you just… ‘wake up’ from being dead?” Zidane asked, puzzled, “Its been four years!”

“You see, that is the thing,” Kuja began, “I am not completely sure. The only instance that comes to mind is the moment before I awakened, I remembered hearing a voice.”

“Who’s voice?” Zidane became quite interested.

“Garland.” Kuja said after a moment of subdued silence.

“GARLAND!?” Zidane leapt off the bed as if just being stung by a Dragonfly, “you can’t be serious! Are you sure you weren’t hallucinating?”

“I am positive, Zidane. It was Garland who spoke to me the moment I was awakened. I could not forget that voice even if I tried…” Kuja said truthfully.

“Garland… how can that be? I haven’t been spoken to by Garland since your death, and besides that, Garland is dead.” Zidane was shocked. “What did he say to you?” he asked.

“It is rather hazy but it was something like… ‘I’m not doing this for the sake of your return, but for a much greater purpose…’ that is all that I can remember, forgive me Zidane, for not being able to tell you any more.” The look on Kuja’s face told him that he meant it.

“It’s ok, I just wonder what he meant by that…” Zidane looked thoughtful.

It was at that time that Kuja shivered. “It is rather cold in here, Zidane. It is best if I put some clothes on,” Kuja waved Zidane out of the way, pushed back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Do you think your legs work yet?” Zidane asked, averting his gaze the best he could out of decency.

“We will not know until I try to stand,” Kuja took a deep breath and slowly got to his feet. “W… woah!” he cried out as he suddenly lurched forward. Then, Kuja felt himself grasped within strong arms as he looked up into Zidane’s concerned face.

“You sure you’re ok?” he said quietly, steadying Kuja against his chest before placing him firmly on his feet again.

“Ah… yes… I have it now,” Kuja breathed before carefully taking a few steps. Then, as if it were an everyday normality to walk naked in front of the populace, Kuja strode slowly to a large wardrobe and opened it, his long, white-gray hair not quite covering his rounded backside. Zidane found himself blushing furiously and quickly averted his gaze to stare at the crackling fire instead.

“Let me see… unfortunately my other garments were probably destroyed so…ah, here we go,” Kuja pulled out an armload of cloths and said, “this should be suitable for me, mm! Be right out…” Kuja gave Zidane such a bizarre look as he walked into an adjacent room that Zidane was almost positive that Kuja was hitting on him.

Zidane flopped unceremoniously onto the now ruffled bed, putting his arms behind his head and staring up at the high ceiling. ‘Damn,’ he thought to himself, ‘my tail certainly doesn’t swing that way but… Kuja is really gorgeous… I’m so jealous! T_T’
After a few long minutes, Kuja finally emerged from the dressing room. “Ah Zidane, do you think that this suits me?” Zidane heard Kuja say. He slowly opened one eye and then the other, after having dozed off for a bit.

“Let’s see! Wow…” Zidane propped himself up on one elbow and looked at the silver-haired man. He was wearing a black leather vest with a high collar that also had long, scarlet-silk sleeves to the palms of his hands. The vest was open-tied in the middle with a long strip of fabric, exposing his creamy white skin. His smooth stomach was bare until the low waist of his pants, which were made of a heavy black, somewhat shiny material. On his feet, he wore knee-high, crystal black boots with silver buckles and toecaps that had been buffed and shined. Over all, he looked much the castle lord. “You look… magnificent, Kuja.” Zidane smiled.

“Thank you. You know, I have never actually had anyone tell me that, except myself,” Kuja said quietly.

“First time for everything, right? Are you about ready to leave?” Zidane asked.

“Are you trying to rush me? I am not finished yet! Makeup is essential!” Kuja looked at Zidane as if he was out of his mind.

“Sorry…” he put a hand behind his head, “put makeup on then.”

“Thanks,” Kuja smiled, “Zidane?”

“What?” he answered.

“Have you ever had the opportunity to wear cosmetics before?” Kuja asked.

“Can’t say I have, well… except for times when I performed with Tantalus.” Zidane pondered.

“Indeed… would you like to see an artist at work?” Zidane could tell that Kuja meant himself.

“Uhh… sure?” he agreed finally.

“Alright then, come and sit over here,” Kuja motioned for Zidane to seat himself a little to the left of him as he sat down at a large vanity with an oval-shaped mirror set in its stand. “Watch and learn, my dear Zidane!” Kuja said quietly, as if Zidane couldn’t live without the important information that he was about to partake of.

On the dresser top lay various cosmetics that were strung about in no particular order. Kuja selected a small compact made of pure white whale bone. He reached inside and produced a Bandersnatch’s hair puff and applied a soft touch of powder that eliminated the slight shine on his nose and forehead. After placing the compact back down on the dresser top, Kuja picked up a thin tube made from the dark, obsidian shell of a Sahagin. He pulled off the cap to reveal a long stick of rich pigment. Kuja raised it gently to his lips and, with sure strokes, painted them a deep, glossy violet. He slid his lips together sensuously and glanced at Zidane in the mirror, happy to see him intently watching.

Next, Kuja picked up another pigment stick, this time for his eyelids and the bone above them that was just below his eyebrows. He softly tinted them a fiery red, to match his clothing. Then, he searched and found a long twig with a feathery wisp of Yan hair at its tip. Kuja lightly dipped the furry end into a vile of black shiny liquid. He wiped off the excess substance with a handkerchief and then fluffed up his long eyelashes with it. At this, he fanned them out preciously with a tiny comb and then emitted a low sigh of satisfaction. Kuja applied a blush of pink to his cheeks that finished the job.
“So then, what do you think?” Kuja looked at Zidane’s face in the mirror.

“Absolutely amazing…” he answered with a little sigh of his own, completely entranced by how incredibly feminine Kuja’s body and face looked, “but don’t think that that means I’m gonna wear makeup too!”

“Mwahahaha! Do not worry, there is no need to jump to conclusions Zidane, I love you just the way you are!” Kuja laughed again.

Zidane, of course, took Kuja’s playful attitude the wrong way, got up in a huff and strode across to a window that overlooked a valley of stones and sagebrush.

“Now Zidane, you know I did not mean that the way you think I did.” Kuja reassured him as he ran a jade-handled silver brush through his long, flowing hair. Zidane didn’t answer. He was definitely jealous of Kuja’s looks and smooth mannerisms.

“I really do love you dearly, Zidane…” Kuja stood up and walked silently over to join him at the window, “for you were the one who saved my life.”

Zidane looked up at Kuja who had one hand on the sill and was smiling quietly at him. “Hey… its ok, don’t worry about it…” he smiled back, “shall we be going then?”

“Just a moment, I want to gather a few things before departure,” Kuja replied, moving away form the window and over to the large wardrobe, “I am not sure when I shall be back here, so I thought I might take a few things with me,” he said. “Oh by the way, Zidane… where are we going? Kuja asked.

“To Alexandria. Tomorrow is Dagger’s… err… Queen Garnet’s 20th birthday. I sure as hell don’t want to miss that!” Zidane said.

“That is wonderful, but… tell me, why do you call her Dagger?” Kuja asked while placing all of his makeup into a lacquered, alabaster case.

“Well, that was always what we called her, back when we were… trying to save Gaia from you…” he answered quietly. Kuja was silent.

“But that really is… all in the past… right?” he asked, a hint of doubt rising in his voice.

“Of course! All of that ‘Kuja is evil’ stuff is totally in the past! Everyone thinks that you’re still dead though, so introducing you as the new Kuja is really gonna be a blast!” Zidane smiled.

“Indeed… if you say so,” Kuja answered.

Moments later, Kuja had assembled all he would need for a time into a small carry sack which he slung over one shoulder, after which Zidane and Kuja made their way back to the airship dock. Kuja had made it quite clear that he did not want to stay and take a stroll down memory lane.

“How do we intend to get to Alexandria if we do not have an airship?” Kuja asked.

“We don’t need a ship when we’ve got Choco!” Zidane answered.

“Choco?” Kuja was puzzled, “what is a ‘Choco’?”

“You’ll see!” Zidane said, raised two fingers to his lips and whistled loudly.

“KWEH!” a far off call was heard as Choco came running and skidded to a halt in front of the two men.

“Hey there, Choco, ready to go?” Zidane asked gleefully.

“So that is a Chocobo. I have always wanted to see one.” Kuja held out a hand to pet Choco on the head.

“He seems to like you, Kuja!” Zidane said as Choco crooned.

“Ok, Choco, do you think you can carry both of us?” Zidane asked hopefully.

“Kweh,” it would try.

“Alright,” Zidane leapt up onto Choco’s back, “Hop on, Kuja!”

“Uhh… alright,” Kuja said with slight uneasiness as he climbed carefully up behind Zidane and made himself comfortable.

“Do you think you can fly, Choco?” Zidane asked.

“K… kweh…” Chocobo shook its head.

“What are we going to do now?” Kuja asked.

“Come on! It’s me! Zidane, the master thief! I know how to get out of such situations…” he smiled craftily.

“Oh?” Kuja eyed him suspiciously.

“Yep! With this!” Zidane held up a strange looking tuber, much like a Gysahl green of earlier except that this root was an odd vermilion orange with a bizarre, musky odor coming from it.

“What is that!?” Kuja recoiled.

“This,” Zidane stated matter-of-factly, “is the infamous Dead Pepper!”

“What is it for?” Kuja asked warily.

“Its our ticket to Alexandria! Allow me to demonstrate…” Zidane took the Dead pepper and dangled it in front of Choco’s face.

“Here you go, Choco! A nice Dead pepper to chew on. Go ahead! Eat it all up!”

“Kweh! KWEH!!” Choco grabbed the Dead pepper form Zidane’s hand and gulped it down.

“Now, watch and learn…” Zidane looked over his shoulder at Kuja.

“K! KE! KWEEEEEEEHHH!!!!” Choco threw its head back, screeched, and took off into the air at hyper speed.

“Holy mother!!” Kuja yelled as he flung his arms around Zidane’s waist, holding on for dear life.

“To Alexandria, Choco!!” Zidane screamed at the top of his lungs. He laughed like a madman as Choco streaked across the blue, cloudless sky, on a direct course for the kingdom of Alexandria.


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