Ever After, Part 9

Zidane grinned as he set a plate in front of Kuja. "Hey, so 'The Ruins of Madian Sari' isn't just a clever name afterall?"

Kuja rolled his head on his shoulders and Zidane could see the trace of a smile on his lips. At least he appreciated the joke. What Kuja said was true, though. What they could salvage was usually damaged and if they could find materials enough to repair it, hard use would just break it again. None of the genomes were craftsman and though Lani made a spledid lumberjack (in more ways than one), there weren't any suitable materials around to make new tools. The scars from the Iifa tree still plagued the land. Only in a few places were small grasses and other native plants beginning to take root. The ocean was the only real stable ecosystem within a reasonable distance but the seasons were beginning to change. The schools of fish that they had all relied on had become scarce. Regardless, their nets had become so worn that normal use tore holes big enough that the fish could get through. If they couldn't find a solution or a new source of food quickly, the group faced the option of having to go to the dwarves for help. That thought alone made Zidane more determined to find another source of food. He tolerated the dwarves like Kuja tolerated the moogles. As in, with barely restrained violence.

After a time, Kuja pushed away from the table. "I will go out tomorrow and see if there's nothing more I can salvage. If not, I may have to resort to using an ice spell to catch fish."

Trying to stay good-natured about the whole ordeal, Zidane chuckled. "Well, that should be fun. I've never had to carve my dinner out of a chunk of ice." This time, Kuja was not amused. In a less chipper tone, Zidane remarked, "At least they'd keep longer than the mistadon meat that way."

To that, Kuja nodded. What a horrible mess, not to mention stench the mistadon meat had made when it began to decay after only two days. The cellar was cool and normal meat kept for at least a week with no sign of rot. For some reason, though, the mistadon meat degraded until it was was nothing but a pile of mushy flesh. Needless to say, it had been less than enjoyable hauling it back out of the cellar.

Following Zidane into the kitchen, Kuja mentioned off hand, "While hunting to the north, I saw some chocobo tracks. If we could catch one, we'd eat well for a few days." As he spoke, Zidane bent down to check on the stew in the pot. Kuja couldn't resist stroking the younger man's tail. He had been longing to be intimate with Zidane for some time, but since Mikoto had arrived, Zidane hadn't felt comfortable with the situation.

Zidane rose and turned to regard Kuja with a quiet smile. How Kuja wanted to kiss that smile! Apparently, Zidane's thoughts weren't too far off that course either. Kuja leaned close- - so intimately close that the younger man's bangs brushed his cheek. His lips parted for a kiss and-

The door from the outside burst open. In stomped Mikoto, absolutely livid. From outside, Lani could be heard, taunting, "I bet my axe would even the odds, you monkey bitch!" Mikoto didn't even look back. Her power slammed the door shut and knocked things from the walls and shelf in a ten foot radius around her.

Kuja and Zidane regarded the scene with the same, dumbfounded statement. Slowly, the brothers looked to each other. As if exchanging a silent signal, they both set off to intercept the women. Kuja strode into Mikoto's path and Zidane raced out the door to confront Lani.

Outside, Lani kicked a large, orange vegetable around. Vegetables from their garden lay scattered all over the ground. Apparently, sending the two women together to gather vegetables for dinner wasn't such a wise idea. With a mixture of frustration, disappointment, and anger, Zidane crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Lani to turn his way.

The vegetable rolled to a stop near Zidane's feet. Lani, intent on kicking it one more time followed after it but stopped short when she saw those familiar boots and above them, a very agitated, yellow-furred tail. She met Zidane's gaze defiantly and demanded, "What?!"

"What do you mean, 'What'," was Zidane's quick retort. He surprised himself by how much he sounded like Baku at that moment. With that thought, the frustration came to the forefront and Zidane rubbed the back of his head tiredly. "Lani, that was the fourth time in two weeks," he said with a sigh. "Why do you provoke her so much?"

It seems Lani didn't have a ready answer, especially when Zidane confronted her in such a disappointed tone. The way he spoke, she felt she'd betrayed his trust. Eh, what did it matter anyway? She didn't need those monkies! The only reason she stuck around, afterall, was for the easy food and some company. Right? Then why did she feel that knot in her stomach when she looked into Zidane's disappointed statement.

"Look," Zidane tried to reason with her gently. "If you just go in there and apologize, we can live together in peace, okay?"

"Apologize?! What the hell for?! Because she's too damned thin-skinned to take a joke? Where the hell are you guys from, anyway that you can't take a little ribbing? She should apologize to ME!"

"I'll do no such thing, you harlot." Both Zidane and Lani turned to see Kuja and Mikoto standing just outside the doorway. Kuja's arm was draped over Mikoto's shoulders protectively and the man seemed none too pleased.

"HARLOT??! You stuck up little-" Lani clambored for a suitable insult to articulate just how she felt, but none came to mind. Instead, she stomped once and declared, "That's it! I'm leaving!! I don't need this! I don't need any of you. I'm going back to Treno!"

Again, Zidane tried to reason with the volatile woman. "Lani, don't try it. It's too-"

"Alone, Zidane Tribal! If you ever decide to leave this goddamned incest farm don't bother looking me up. I never want to see you again!" With that, she stomped on the vegetable, pulping it and spraying seeds everywhere. In a huff, she skulked off to the southeast, toward the Eidolon Wall and her former shelter.

"Good riddance," Kuja murmured. Mikoto's tail twitched and she couldn't agree more. Unlike his siblings, Zidane slumped. He rubbed his forehead with his tattered leather gloves and for the first time in a while, wished he had just stayed with his Dagger.