Ever After, Part 5

Turning partially, Kuja watched Mikoto out of the corner of his eye. He played up his strip tease, letting his shoulders roll languidly as he extracted his arms from the clinging, wet cloth. After discarding the shirt over the back of a wooden chair, he traced his fingers from his side to his lightly furred belly and finally to the laces on his pants. Mikoto remained a statue at the edge of his vision. Maybe he wasn't being as enticing as he thought.

Emotions swirled through her mind. Desire, anticipation, and need were on the forefront but Mikoto couldn't tell to whom they belonged. Together, they urged her forward. She wanted to touch Kuja, push through him, and feel him through her. Her feet wouldn't respond, though. Something held her firmly in place when she wanted to do nothing but throw herself at the beautiful man.

The leather pants rolled off his legs easily. Kuja pulled his tail free while bending down to pull his boots off his feet. He offered Mikoto an exquisite view of his flawless backside. The fine white fur on his legs lent the shadows of his muscles a soft, gentle focus. He moved slowly, carefully taking advantage of the sensuality that controlled motions could lend a form. Still, Mikoto declined his invitation.

With his back still facing the young woman, Kuja sighed. "I am ready for that towel now, Mikoto." If he wasn't going to see any action, he may as well dry off and tend to the catch outside.

Mikoto remained perfectly silent. Growing impatient, Kuja turned and repeated. His phrase choked off midway as the young girl grabbed her head and nearly swooned to the floor. "Mikoto!" Kuja shouted as he sprung forward to catch her.

The younger genome lept back with an agility Kuja had only seen from Zidane. She huddled against the wall defensively with one hand outstretched to ward him off. "Don't touch me," she pleaded with her teeth clenched.

Kuja straightened and let his arms swing back to his sides. He leveled his gaze on her, stretching out with his consciousness to detect any magic that might be causing her to act so strange. He felt nothing out of the ordinary and instead asked, "Mikoto, what is wrong? What are you feeling?"

The girl slid to the floor and hugged her knees. She was embarrassed to admit her desire, but she knew there was something more to what she was feeling for Kuja; something deep, dark, and paralyzing. She still feared Kuja. It made no sense to her, but that deeply rooted fear made her want to keep him at arm's length.

Lowering himself to his knees, Kuja assumed a much less intimidating posture. Her fear was naked in her expression, but totally unfounded as far as Kuja was concerned. He placed his hands on the floor and crawled toward her slowly. She watched him the whole time. Those wide, blue eyes showed and intensity that Kuja had never seen in the young woman before. "Tell me what you're feeling, Mikoto. Show me, please," he coaxed while holding out his hand. If there was any touching, it would be on her terms alone.

"Mikoto," he pleaded after a time. "Please, tell me-show me what you're feeling. I know you can do that at least."

Haltingly, Mikoto placed a trembling hand in Kuja's. She felt the warmth of his fingers only a moment before hazy memories, her anxiety, and fear flashed between them. Mikoto tumbled down into her own mind. She could feel Kuja like most people can feel someone watching them. There was a detachment, though, and she was only a disembodied consciousness watching the exchange over her link with the other genome.

The stream of conscious was like a flood that raged in and threatened to drown Kuja in a matter of moments. He could feel his heart strain as it sped. He lost track of his breathing. There was a clenching in his abdomen and finally the thoughts overtook him. Tumbling into the darkness, he sensed a tide catching and then guiding him toward a blue haze. He seemed to wade toward the shore in the middle of what he knew to be Bran Bal. Weight returned to his legs, and he gained control of his senses once again.

Suddenly, the population of Bran Bal materialized around him. The faces of the other genomes were blurred and indistinct. They were a stark contrast to the solid, well-defined buildings and sounds. Kuja pulled himself onto the dry, gray ground and followed a familiar path back to his dwelling. As he walked along, detail bled out of the scenery. Trees lost their texture and took on abstract shapes. The air seemed to become thin. Kuja stopped and examined the door to his former dwelling. The intricate, web-like patterns made by the formation of the material were somehow more uniform and artificial. With a hand on the door and one on the latch, he pushed. The door would not yield even after several tries. Kuja stepped back and looked up at the building that served as his home when he was new to life. Minor, but noticeable discrepancies were his clues that this reality was somehow not his own.

Kuja decided to retrace his steps. When he re-entered the town square of Bran Bal, the genomes passed him without taking any notice. To him, that was normal. The genomes often wandered from one dwelling to another carrying out Garland's will mechanically. That was it! Garland could explain to him what was happening. Kuja explored the town, searching for his maker. He found Garland in the creation room below the city. 'Unborn' genomes floated in tall cylindrical vats while the enormous caped man tended to a control panel. Kuja stumbled to a stop when he saw a slight, white-haired person at Garland's side.

Garland turned and addressed the beautiful boy at his side. Kuja watched a younger version of himself fixatedly. Their words were nonsense and muted but the two were clearly recognizable. Also, he could sense the younger Kuja's burning anger. With a hand to the side of his head, Kuja wondered how he'd come to this strange reality. He couldn't remember anything but climbing out of the black water.

His thoughts were interrupted as the conversation became clear. Mikoto walked into the scene quietly and stood witness. As Garland and the younger Kuja discussed their plans, the older Kuja crossed the room to stand next to Mikoto. He begged her attention by calling out her name, touching her, or walking directly in front of her. Mikoto did nothing to acknowledge his presence. She just stared straight ahead at Garland and the boy at his side.

"...And what is the status of the guardian city?" Garland's voice penetrated Kuja's soul as he-his younger version was addressed.

"Alexandria shall pose no threat, master. I have the queen eating from my palm." Even to Kuja's ears, his younger self sounded snide. Aside from the hatred for his former self, Kuja felt that he'd been through this all before.

"Good," affirmed Garland. His next question came in a stern tone, "What of Cleyra?"

The younger Kuja seemed to anticipate that. Even the older Kuja felt his heart jump. Together the older and younger version said, "Cleyra has proven to be... difficult."

"I want it destroyed," Garland pressed as he loomed over Kuja.

"I will-" the younger Kuja was cut off by Garland's demand.

"It will be your first priority!"

Hatred. Deep, devouring hatred welled up inside Kuja. He and his younger self narrowed their eyes, though only the younger conceded, "Yes, master."

Where was he? Why was he reliving all this? Kuja traded his hatred for confusion and watched his younger self turn and push Mikoto out of the way as he strode from the room. Mikoto fell to the ground hard and in a defensive heap. Garland made no move to help her but instead commanded, "Watch him and report to me when he reaches Cleyra."

Kuja could feel the weight of Garland's command as he'd never felt it before. Mikoto rose to her feet, withdrew a pendant on a chain from inside her shirt, and closed her eyes. Kuja felt himself slipping away, following some other life force, and finally latching onto it. Moreso, he felt a profound loneliness.

Searing pain in his abdomen caused Kuja to open his eyes while he fought for his breath. His chest heaved with huge, gulping breaths. His limbs felt heavy and his skin was like ice. When his eyes refocused, he saw Mikoto collapsed on the ground beside him. Her eyes were open and staring at nothing. Her chest moved in time to his breathing patterns. Kuja pried his fingers from hers and carefully lifted her into his lap. He was still naked and she was warm against his skin, even if she moved like a rag doll.

"Come back," he sobbed into her hair. His arm rubbed vigorously up and down her back as if he could will some sort of life back into her. "Come back and explain what I just saw, Mikoto. Please, come back."

Giant hands lifted her from still, warm waters. Mikoto heard her name called time and again. She had a sense that she was being carried toward the speaker but some part of her wanted to stay in this empty, detached realm. Above the waters, Mikoto felt a terrible sadness, a sense of loss, regret, and fear. The waters were preferable. They were numb, neutral, and didn't hurt her heart. Mikoto tried to turn back. Instead, she was thrust into the light and into a heavy, empty body. Her senses returned one by one and she could feel hands encircling her and rubbing her back. There was warmth in her hair, and vibrations that turned out to be speaking. She came to recognize Kuja begging to her come back to him. It was his desperation she felt. Why did he feel this way?

The female genome spent several long moments negotiating with her mind and body before her lips would form words. "Kuuuh-" the first attempt caught in her throat. Her feeling returned to her hands and she touched the man's skin with a feather soft touch. The sensation of his skin under her fingertips brought her around. "Kuja?"

Pushing her back, Kuja peered into Mikoto's eyes. They blinked once and he held her close again. "I'm sorry," he sobbed against her. "I never meant to hurt you. I didn't think you were any different than the rest of them."

Slowly, her hands inched up to pat Kuja on the back comfortingly. Mikoto took her turn to hold Kuja and rock him against her gently. She waited for her mind to catch up with the past events. "You did not know. I know. I forgive you."

How could she forgive him so easily? He treated her terribly-her and all the other genomes. He only hated them because they wouldn't acknowledge him. His loneliness drove him to despise them all. All those faces and no one but Garland to talk to while he was growing up. That's why he hated them. Now, though-now, regret took the place of all that hatred. He especially regretted ever hurting Mikoto. How couldn't he have known she was like Zidane and himself? Had Garland commanded her to hide that from him? Considering what he'd done to Zidane when he was new...

"Sssh," Mikoto comforted as she rocked Kuja. She felt his despair and angst. Those were familiar enough feelings. What was that about Zidane, though? What had Kuja done to Zidane when he was young? That would be something she'd have to ask him later.

Mikoto caressed Kuja's feathery locks and pulled back to look into his tear-filled eyes. "Listen, Kuja. None of the other genomes knew you. I am the only one who remembers and I forgive you. You are free to start again. I will not leave you."

Eyes twitching, Kuja studied Mikoto's eyes. She was earnest just like Zidane. She meant to stay with him. That promise was like a raft in a tossing sea. He grabbed on tenaciously and held close to her for dear life. This sensation of a motherly figure was so strange to him, but so welcome. He felt her lips on his ear and like magic, his spirits were lifted.

With an expression of disgust, Zidane pulled some of the viscera from his fingers. He wasn't entirely sure he could eat this stuff anyway. Ah well, food was food. At Lani's remark, he followed her gaze to the dwelling. "Yeah, they have. I hope they're okay."

The bounty hunter smirked. "My bet is they're on the edge of fucking ecstacy."

Zidane's tail flicked as he blinked at Lani's bluntness. Even Marcus wasn't that blunt. With a shrug he began to gather the mistadon fillets. "Jealous, Lani?" Zidane jabbed with a smile.

"You're damn right I am! You know how long it's been since I've had a good lay?"

Unable to give up the bit of fun quite yet, Zidane chirped, "Moogles not doing it for you, huh?" As he laughed, his tail rolled into a curlicew.

Lani virtually glared a hole into his back as he walked toward the storage shed just to the right of the dwelling. A smirk turned her lips and under her breath, Lani promised that she would find some action soon. "...one way or another, monkey boy."