Feather Flight: Maybe You’ll Be Waiting There (part 29)

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

*****

*****

Drifting in a surreal sort of half dream, Kuja was aware in a vague way of the doctors coming and going from his room, days passing. The Selwe interpreter was a constant presence at the edge of his consciousness, but more often than not he didn’t have the energy to try and communicate with it. It was easier to just float along as his body clung stubbornly to life. If Laro had been there, maybe he would have made an effort. Sometimes confused by a memory flitting to the surface he thought Laro was there, that he had returned from his fool’s quest. When he reached out however, he was always proved wrong. Kuja was glad that disappointment, like all other emotions, never lasted wrong. Exhaustion swept them all away.

Even if Laro somehow succeeded in going to Gaia, what would he find there? Some rubble, some baffled peasants; that was all. Terra was where all the answers were, and Terra was gone.

Laro wasn’t coming back.

Tired as he was, Kuja could admit the truth to himself with only a twinge of agony. Most likely the alien’s device had failed at the onset and his lover was long gone. In all likelihood the soldier was waiting for him, wherever spirits were inclined to wait, hoping he’d hurry up and join him. Somehow he couldn’t bring himself to let go. Kuja chose wait for his love. Like some diligent damsel in the story books, he would hold on until the choice was no longer his to make.

Thinking of his old home, he lost himself in another memory, anything to pass the time as he waited for the impossible.

*****

“Kuja, what are you doing?”

He didn’t turn around at the familiar monotone question. Mikoto, he silently decided, had a positive gift for turning up where he didn’t want her. He wondered if it was some new feature of Garland’s incorporated into her design. Typing in the final coefficients to the mathematical model, he set the processor to the task of computing the potential risk vectors with a faint smile.

Kuja had studied Mikoto’s models long before her primary biological fabrication had even begun. Doubly cautious with this, Garland’s second attempt to replace him, he had been naturally curious as to what her capabilities would be. Careful examination however had revealed nothing that caused him worry. Weak, barely magical at all, she was more of a nuisance than anything. Mikoto was little more than a spare pair of hands obediently applied to her ‘master’s work. She shared some degree of his intelligence, a minor portion of his looks, and absolutely no spirit at all.

Even as a baby, Zidane had showed more potential than Mikoto. At least he had cried when cast into the lake’s portal, refusing the indignity of his exile, if only at a primitive level.

Mikoto never cried, not even at times when he knew she _had_ to feel pain. When she had been younger, he had made it something of a hobby to torment her when possible. Petty vengeance, he admitted, for her efforts in Garland’s service to test/torture him for the sake of research.

Idly turning to watch the woman, he wondered if she was even capable of simple emotional responses. Drone, he scathingly named her vague expression. She only blinked at him from her place by the door, frowning slightly as she observed his trespass. Other than mild annoyance or faint alarm her eyes never showed much. He’d never seen any hope for her. Just like the others, she was little more than a sentient doll. Aware of her surroundings, but no more than that, she was more of an annoyance than a ‘sister’ despite Garland’s pompous declarations.

Unaware, or uncaring of his opinion of her, Mikoto walked over to examine what he was doing. Kuja propped his hip on the edge of the test fixture to see what she’d do. It wasn’t like she could stop him, other than running to fetch Garland, and he knew for a fact the old codger was locked in his tower ‘observing’ again. He had delivered his progress report on Gaia, but the man was too much of a control freak to take him at his word. Kuja didn’t mind, he hadn’t been dismissed back to Gaia yet, so he saw the delay as his chance to check on one or two things in the central database while his ‘master’ was busy with other things.

“You’re investigating your genetic template.” Mikoto murmured, and then frowned again. “Why?”

“No reason.” He drawled back.

Had he ever been like this? So empty? He had certainly once been more _passive_, Kuja presumed. He had memories of several years before the cataclysm of Mandarin Sari, all of them fairly uneventful by his current standards. He had even been to Gaia before that day, on short missions, taking measurements, but it hadn’t been the same. It was strange how that one afternoon burned in his memory, standing out from all the days that had come before.

- - - - -

Kuja had been content at the chance to ride along in the Invincible, watching as Garland calmly obliterated building after building. Kuja shielded his eyes from the maddened frenzy of the summon spirits. Affected by the ship’s radiation they had twisted and turned mad in the air falling on each other, crashing to earth to lie as if dead. Kuja looked over the destruction impassively enough. He didn’t remember feeling anything unsettling until later. Not until he had set foot in the rubble.

It was only in the aftermath, prowling the city with orders to deal with the survivors, that he felt the first twinge of something. An unnamed itch under his skin, the sour flavor in his mouth that he had blamed on the acrid smoke, he had ignored the sensation as he checked the corpses, but it didn’t go away.

Kuja shielded his face from a particularly foul smelling gust billowing between the broken houses. He didn’t like being dirty, and the cobblestone was still scorching hot beneath his feet from Garland’s assault. Stepping around a shattered section of wall he found his first target. A summoner moaned quietly to herself, still alive.

The sight made him pause, and he realized he was experiencing _a feeling_. The woman was bleeding profusely as she lay propped against a ruined house. Before he could move to terminate her, she caught sight of him and gurgled in surprise. She must have mistaken him for a friend because she held out a filthy hand to silently to beseech his aid. Disgusted by the broken fingers Kuja stepped back and hissed at her. He was too startled to recall what spell he had meant to use. Distracted by her choking words, wishing he hadn’t studied her language quite so well, he understood the, “Please, I’m dying…” with perfect clarity. Kuja’s stomach twisted in unsettling ways.

He refused to let it show. “Yes. You are.”

“Help me?”

“No.” Kuja clenched his hands into fists, wondering why his body was acting so irregularly. Why it would not submit to his will as it usually did. The woman dropped her hand, her look changing from wide-eyed to tight and pinched. She must be feeling something too, he realized, he wondered what.

“Help me, please!” She begged.

Tears, he realized. She was crying. He had seen the phenomena before, but never up close. He wondered if it felt as unpleasant as it looked. “No. You are already on the verge of expiring. I do not need to exert energy to assist you.”

“But I don’t want to die.” The summoner could hiss to, and did so as she scrabbled amidst the rubble with her good hand and found a sharp stone.

“Death is doubtless better than your current state of being.” He pointed out calmly.

She flung it weakly at him, fending him off. “I don’t want to die! I won’t!”

Even as he ducked he watched amazed as she staggered upright, ignoring grave wounds, her horn sparkling with gathering spirit energy. “Monster. You did this! You killed my family, but not me! I won’t let you! I’m going to live! I’m going to stop- ”

Attuned to the flow of life force as he was, Kuja let go of the barrier he was calling forth before finishing it. Even as she was willing her guardian beast from the earth, her body gave out, releasing her and her aborted summon with a startled gasp. It took Kuja a moment longer to realize his hands were still reflexively raised to block the attempted attack. Staring down at the still-open eyes he shuddered silently, caught in a nameless paralysis.

“Kuja, why have to paused in your investigation? Your selected target is exterminated, continue your sweep.”

The transponder clipped to his ear jarred him back to a semblance of normality, reminding him that Garland was always watching, always listening. For the first time, this too stirred something within his chest, if he could only think for a moment he might remember the word for it. Kuja shook his head free of the odd thoughts.

“Y-y-yes.” He staggered forward, stepping over the corpse and forcing himself to check the inside of the house.

It was empty.

For some reason the boring sight made the pressure on his lungs ease slightly as he pushed away to continue slowly down the street.

“Is something wrong?” The old man’s voice caught him by surprise again. He fought not to flinch.

“N-No.” He stepped over a broken bucket of produce and forced himself to check if the owner of the outstretched hand nearby was breathing or not.

He didn’t want to.

The realization came as a shock.

He didn’t want another encounter like he had just had. Dead, he ascertained quickly. Kuja stood and mechanically proceeded to the next house.

“You sound strange.” The voice in his ear critiqued. “Report status.”

He knows! Kuja realized. And strangely, his formerly uncooperative memory shifted into high-gear. There was a name for the chill running down his spine and out to the very tip of his tail. There was a name for the feeling coursing through his veins, causing him to clamp down on his breathing, and focus his whole being into the lie he was saying.

“The smoke is interfering with my ability to function at normal levels.”

“Proceed with caution.” Came the bored reply.

“Yes, Garland.”

Fear.

He shivered again. Afraid of the corpses, afraid of the idea that another of the summoners might yet live, might stare at him with demanding eyes, curse him, try to fight him. They were afraid too, terrified. The realization was like a slap to the face. He stood on the threshold of another burning building and used it as an excuse to pause a minute.

She had been afraid. She had been afraid of ending.

Gasping a lungful of the thick air around him, Kuja turned around to find the charred bones of even more victims of the Invincible, and realized he had matched the name to the initial feeling still twisting inside of him.

Horror.

Kuja knew beyond all logic, that he felt horror at what Garland had done. At what he was doing. So many deaths, so many people who probably hadn’t wanted to die. People who were afraid, like him. He was horrified by it.

And he was afraid of what Garland would do, if he ever found out.

Blinking, Kuja forced the new emotions down, making sure they could not be seen. No one must know, he decided, no one must discover this weakness.

Grimly checking the remaining houses on the street in the most superficial manner possible, he worked his way back to the ship and climbed on board, lying a second time and recognizing that it was ‘relief’ he felt when Garland believed him without question.

Retiring to the upper level of the ship while it cruised back to the portal, Kuja hugged himself and wondered whether this new feeling slowly building as the others faded might be called ‘paranoia’.

He would have to do some research when they returned to Brambala.

- - - - -

Watching Mikoto as she puzzled through his flat refusal to cooperatively share information, he contemplated the duality of his life since Mandarin Sari. Other emotions had grown within him as the quiet months and years after that day. They had become familiar, so familiar he wondered how he could have lived without them. On the surface however, he still pretended to play the part of ‘drone’ for the others, but he wondered why he bothered. Garland had to know by now, the old man wasn’t completely oblivious, but with Zidane gone, there was very little he could do about this additional ‘aberration’ in his prototype.

Kuja made very certain that he followed the orders he was given with precision. Garland was too stupid to adjust his manner of issuing demands, and there were always loopholes if the task assigned ran too counter to Kuja’s own personal aims. Self preservation was one of the first concepts he had refreshed his memory on, upon disembarking from the Invincible after that day. It was a lesson he had taken to heart.

He wouldn’t end up like those poor weak fools in Mandarin Sari.

When the next cataclysm struck he would be counted among the survivors, whether Garland desired it or not. He was _alive_, as _Kuja_, and he wanted to stay that way. If Mikoto got in his way, it was just too bad for her.

“You are not allowed to access the mainframe without Master Garland’s authorization.” She reached out to terminate the program. Kuja slapped her hand away, no longer amused.

“Piss off, Mikoto, you’re not wanted here. Go stare at the blue light along with the others or something.”

“Master Garland said-”

“I don’t give a damn what Garland said.” He smirked, watching her little frown deepen into an almost emotion. Almost, but not quite.

“He will be informed of your disobedience.” Mikoto tried to reach for the computer again. This time Kuja caught her wrist, holding her at bay. Unthwarted, she stubbornly tried to swipe at the keyboard with her other hand, which he also summarily caught.

“Naughty naughty, Mikoto. Go off and tell the bastard, I don’t give a damn, but not until after I get the results, understand?” It was hopeless to try and make her be reasonable, if she had been a reasoning creature in the slightest, she wouldn’t have been on Garland’s side in the first place. She struggled against his grip single mindedly however, ignoring his advice completely. It was almost funny, right up until she realized her feet were still free and proceeded to kick him sharply in the shin.

Letting go with a yelp, Kuja recovered just in time to catch the woman by the hair as she tried to dart past him to the terminal. He didn’t bother to hold back, tossing her through the air to collapse against the far wall with a loud thud. Too well built to be more than stunned by the blow, she sat dazed a moment before pulling herself up.

“Garland will be informed.” She shook her head a bit as she tried to get her rattled wits together. He crossed the floor before she could make a second attempt on his program.

“Ah Mikoto, I’m afraid you just don’t amuse me like you used to. Normally I’d find your tenacity endearing, but right now I’m a little pressed for time.”

“Garland left orders.” Mikoto gasped as he closed his hand around her throat and started applying pressure.

“I’m sure he did.”

“You- ” Looking more alive than usual, she struggled to pull his hand loose, slowly strangling under the force of his fingers.

“Do you ever wonder what it is I’ve been doing on Gaia, Mikoto?” Kuja smiled bitterly. “Wait, don’t bother to answer, let me guess. I’m speeding the process of entropy, right? That’s what Garland’s told you.”

His ‘sister’ stared at him with frantic eyes as she choked, a simple biological response, he’d gotten the same look from rabbits he’d killed for his dinner. Even now he couldn’t be sure if there was a hint of fear in the look or not. It annoyed him.

“I kill people, Mikoto. Sometimes I blow away ships full of them with a spell. Sometimes I convince them to kill each other for me for the fun of it. Sometimes I take them one at a time, just like this. I just squeeze and squeeze and squeeze until they’re dead. I’ve had lots of practice. I think I might even have a talent for it. Do you understand?”

If she did, she made no sign.

“I’ve killed quite a few people so far, dear sister.” He shrugged whimsically as her eyes glazed over. “Doubtless I’ll have to step up my efforts if Garland’s time table is to be maintained. Pity that he probably won’t count you towards my quarterly goal.”

Oxygen deprivation finally getting the better of her, Mikoto passed out. He let her go with a disgusted sigh, watching her color slowly improve as she slumped to the floor. It would have been easy enough to finish the job, but killing her would only lead to an unpleasant scene with Garland. He tried to avoid those if he could help it. The man had no sense of humor. Kuja returned to the console and started reading the log file, wondering if that was the real reason he stopped. Killing had lost a great deal of its emotional impact with his constant practice, so it wasn’t squeamishness that stopped him. Nor was Garland’s wrath really a good reason either. It wasn’t like the old man could do more than modestly punish him.

Garland’s schedule couldn’t afford the setback of growing and training a replacement.

Laughing at the irony of it all, Kuja instructed the mainframe to forward the output to the Invincible’s memory bank for further study. Something he seen on Gaia had led him to believe that he wasn’t aging as they did. Perhaps he wasn’t aging at all. He had speculated that it was because of the nature of Brambala and his frequent trips back and forth, but further study of Garland’s genome fabrication process was necessary to completely understand the factors. Certainly the old scientist had intended for his creations to be comely looking, they were the future vessels of Terra after all, but Kuja personally wouldn’t have minded a few more inches in height.

If the change was easy to make, he might just get them on his next visit, provided that Mikoto stayed out of his way.

He glanced over at her and noted her tail had begun to twitch again. Built to last, he had to give Garland credit for that. The woman was already shaking off her near strangulation. She’d be back on her feet and pestering him in no time. Her neck was a lovely bruised shade of purple. With another half an hour of computing before he was done, he considered his options. Not for the first time, did he look out the doorway at the placid blue of the lake, wondering if he could just drop her in as he had once done for their ‘brother’. God only knew where she’d end up though.

He shook his head, vetoing the idea. Even if he did do it, she was too stubborn to stay lost if Garland should happen to look for her. He’d never hear the end of it.

******

Laro settled himself at the trestle table, feeling just as oversized on his second breakfast in Mikoto’s house as he had on the first. She and Mr. Vivi were talking quietly at the sink as she filled the teapot, but soon the little mage darted out nodding a greeting as he passed. He watched the straw hat’s departure with more than a little interest, wondering if some decision had been reached.

“How did you sleep, Laro?” The woman asked cordially.

“Well enough.” He shrugged. “Is it just me, are there a lot of owls in this forest?”

He wasn’t sure what was so funny about what he had just said, but it elicited a genuine smile from the blond cat-woman. Genome – he corrected himself. The name wasn’t half as romantic, in his opinion, but it was probably far more accurate. They really were more ‘monkey’ than anything. In his wandering around the village the day before he had been able to watch them get up to all sorts of cute tricks with their tails. When Masa was well again, he would tease the man about not using his more often. A tail seemed a handy thing to have after all.

She recovered her serious expression quickly enough. “This forest is known for its owls, but they were a little loud last night perhaps. I think it’s due to the full moon. I assigned some of the others to observing the birds, but haven’t had a chance to review their findings yet.”

“That’s alright, I’m sure you’re right.” Laro wondered if it would be rude to confess he didn’t care for more information about the nocturnal annoyances so long as they went away. Their mournful hooting had given him assortment of strange dreams, and he had spent most of the night wishing they’d find somewhere else to socialize the night through. Accepting his tea with a smile, he concentrated on that instead, dismissing the lingering image from his last dream before waking. He had stood in a vast night time desert, distant start twinkling above. But as he had appreciated the view, he saw Masa above him as well supported in the air by huge crimson and white wings. Laro had shouted to try and get the distant flyer’s attention, but his lover hadn’t seemed able to find him, just continued to float on the night wind above his head, crying his name as if lost.

“You’re troubled by something.” Mikoto continued setting out plates with what he assumed was her usual melancholy look. He was surprised to note she was setting a third place at the table. When she settled across from him at last, she raised an eyebrow in a shadow of Masa’s more elegant look of inquiry. “Is something wrong?”

“Just thinking about M- Kuja.” Laro caught himself before he confused the woman. “Wondering if he’s holding up.”

She looked away as she stirred her tea. “I have been thinking about him too. I spoke with the Black Mage council yesterday, to see if they had an opinion on this matter.”

“Did you?” He feigned less interest than he felt. “And what did they say.”

“They said,” Mikoto hesitated. “They said I should do as I feel is right. They will not judge him, they do not feel that a creation should ever rule arbitrarily on the validity of his/her maker’s ideals.”

“That’s very philosophical of them.” Laro mused. “Seeing as how he created them as tools to further his war.”

“Yes. I was surprised.” She confessed. “I felt certain they would still feel fear, or anger.”

“They seem a pretty laid back set, from what I’ve seen.”

“They are very gentle.” Mikoto agreed.

The door opened with only a brisk tap in warning. Zidane strolled energetically into the little house, livening up the morning simply by thrusting himself into it. “Who’s gentle?” He declared as he claimed the empty spot at the table.

“Vivi and the others.” His sister caught him up.

“Nobody sweeter.” Zidane agreed cheerfully. “Just ran into him and Junior on my way here. He says you’ve made up your mind?” Her brother devoured both slices of toast and started in on the fruit bowl.

“I- yes. I think so.” The blonde woman twisted her hands where they rested on the table. “I think I need to go to him, Zidane. I- I need to try. I don’t know that he’ll want me to, but it isn’t right, what was done to him. I need to make things right.”

“You think you can fix him?”

Laro silently offered a thank you to the universe at large. Two weeks of wandering had been worth it.

Zidane looked relieved too, reaching out and patting her hand. “You know I’ll help too, but I don’t know anything about this stuff. What do you need?”

“Time to gather supplies.” Mikoto gained confidence when thinking through the details of her task. “Not more than half a day, I imagine, I don’t have much here, hopefully Laro’s doctors will be able to provide me with the rest?”

“If not, we’ll fabricate whatever you need.” He answered grimly. “If it’s in our power, or the Selwe’s power, we’ll get it for you. Kuja’s that important to us.”

“Alright.” Mikoto smiled weakly and turned back to Zidane. “In that case all we need is to some how transport five people to where Kuja is.

“Five people?” The man frowned. “There’s four of us, counting that giant bug outside.”

“Vivi wants to come too.” Mikoto shrugged at her brother’s sharp look. “I do not know his reasons. I think perhaps he wants to speak with Kuja about something.”

“Five it is.” Zidane murmured. “Alright. You get you act together. Laro, you need anything before you leave here?”

“No.”

“In that case I’ll beg your indulgence for the morning and go have a heart-to-heart with the Crystal, see if it’ll tell me where I’m going.”

Mikoto frowned. “What if it doesn’t know?”

“Don’t jinx me please, Mikoto.” Her brother made a face as he stood up. “Worst case, I have a rough idea of which way he went and how far, I’ll just have to go look for him and come back to get the rest of you when I’ve found him. It’ll just take a hell of a lot more work.”

“Good luck.” She murmured as the young man left.

“Is there anything I can help with?” Laro offered his services to the healer and promptly found himself put to the dishes while she went to locate luggage and various items to cram into it.

Between Mikoto’s flurry of packing and nearly every resident of the small village stopping by to offer assistance or reassure themselves that she would come back, the cottage was a distracting place to be. No wonder then that morning slipped through afternoon without him noticing the time had passed. The mages seemed genuinely heart broken to learn that their Mikoto was going away on a trip. Even her firm assurances that she would be back as soon as Kuja was well didn’t seem to cheer them very much. The genomes were even more worried, making Laro realize for the first time exactly how integral the demure woman must be to their tiny community. As young as she seemed, she was one of the pillars of their world, teacher, advisor, doctor, and historian all rolled into one.

In the end, the thieves had to be recruited to assist with ‘minding the village’ while she was away. They laughingly agreed to an extended vacation, ‘so long as Cid didn’t need them’ and promptly took up their duties by distracting most of the population of the village with an impromptu theatrical production. Laro had to laugh at the sight of the various thugs playing a romantic comedy, but it served its purpose. The genomes were entranced by the story, not even noticing when Zidane popped into existence in front of Mikoto’s house out of thin air. Having been lucky enough to be looking that general direction when Zidane appeared Laro could only gape at the casual teleportation.

“Well I know where we’re going.” The young man joined him in amused observation of the play. His step was still energetic, but his face showed signs of strain. “I have no idea if I can drag four people and Mikoto’s mountain of luggage that far all in one trip, but I guess we’re about to find out.”

“Would two trips make it better or worse?” Laro wondered aloud.

“Depends how long I rest in between, which makes the whole situation rather moot.” Zidane shrugged. “Vivi won’t leave Mikoto, and I can’t imagine your bug will travel well by himself. If I take Vivi and Mikoto first, then I have to leave them behind in a strange place and come back for you. If I take you and the bug back first, well that just means you wait there and hope I come back with a cure some day. Neither idea is that appealing, you know?”

Laro considered the options as well, not liking any of the variations. Even if he could convince the Selwe to stay behind, and if Mikoto could convince her friend, he didn’t trust the Mentor to stay out of trouble if left on its own. “All or nothing, I guess.”

“Just the way I like it.” Zidane grinned. “Come on, let’s see if we can get Mikoto before she starts packing another bag and get this show on the road.”

*****

Kuja, can you hear me?

Something about the call, seeming to come from a great distance, pulled him out of his reverie. Kuja found the will to open his eyes, wondering why the voice had sounded so familiar. The room was empty of anyone except the giant Selwe seated by the window. The bug actually managed to look bored, despite its rather unexpressive face.

The call hadn’t come from that direction.

Kuja blinked slowly, brain working sluggishly at the problem. Luckily for him, his solicitor was impatient. Kuja wake up!

The voice was definitely familiar. Not voice, he suddenly realized, thoughts. He was hearing someone’s thoughts.

If he hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn it was his happy-go-lucky menace of a brother. But that wasn’t possible; the idiot was probably on the other side of the universe from here. Entertained by the hallucination, he closed his eyes again and started to drift.

Kuja you bastard, I know you can hear me.

Fuck off, Zidane, let me die in peace. He scolded the hallucinatory voice irritably.

I’m coming through. Zidane blithely ignored his comment in favor of dropping a modest bombshell on him.

I need to use you as a more accurate targeting-point since the Crystal’s a little vague on details on a less-than-planetary scale. I’ve got some freeloader’s in tow and don’t want to land them in outer orbit by accident.

Wait… Kuja slowly came to the conclusion that he wasn’t imagining the encounter. Zidane? Is that really you?

The one and only. It certainly sounded like Zidane. He felt a burst of tired amusement at the blond’s sassy tone. I’ll be there shortly.

Alright. Kuja could hardly do anything to stop the man.

… I’m glad you’re still alive. Zidane’s thought reached him after a momentary hesitation. Laro wasn’t sure how far along you were, so we were a little worried.

He wasn’t so far gone that _that_ name could slip into a conversation unnoticed, but even as he wanted to ask what Zidane was talking about, what he knew about Laro, he felt sleep overtake him again. Fighting it was futile, fighting often was.

Drifting, Kuja dreamed again smiling slightly as he wandered through grassy plains where the deserts had once stretched. Just over the next hill, he was certain; a sweetly familiar soldier was looking for him. He hurried, not wanting to keep the man waiting.

--Lunar

I’d like to say ‘worth the wait’ but well… man that was a long wait. :-P

What can I say, thanks to everyone who took the trouble to write me

Post reviews, or say hi in the guest book. You are all responsible in part for

getting me working on this again. I’ve got three more shortish chapters planned

and that’s it for this fic, *crosses fingers*