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Standard Disclaimers apply
Chapter 3: Alone for a While
A particular effeminate-looking youth reached out his slender fingers and pulled out a dusty old book from the bottom level of a shelf. It was an old book, the cover leather and the pages tinged with the shade of fair sand. He blew across the cover and dusted the dust off the book with a sleeve.
Then he settled down right in front of the shelf on a reasonably sized cushion and folded his legs to one side into a docile position before draping thin quilt over his lap for warmth and comfort.
It was almost a cozy sight, almost an irresistible luxury.There is always an exception to perfection.
Kuja's teary glance glazed over in the direction of the exit to this room and reached out to pull a box of tissue over.
Zidane had been quick and efficient in running the errands he gave, and he was running out of things for the enthusiastic monkey to do.
He just wanted to get Zidane out of the way so that he could concentrate on reading up the books Doctor Tot has on the large informative shelves of his.
However his dear brother finished everything he was told to do with an enthusiasm like a dog been starved for days offered food. In other words, Kuja had no time to have some peace and quiet while trying to figure out the squiggly scribbles* in the books.
*note #1: Don't ask me, but for some strange, unexplained reason, books written by intellectuals (whichever the time in history may be) in this world are extremely difficult to decipher. Not the language. The handwriting.
His nose was starting to run again. It was not really the flu coming back to him; in fact he was well on his road to full recovery. Rather, it was some particular strong smell that came from the kitchen that made him sneeze. All that sneezing blocked his nose from everything except the tangy smell coming from the kitchen.
Silently withstanding the torturous spicy smell of what Zidane claims to be the best curry in all Gaia, he buried his attention in a particular book that debated the theory of the life-force of Gaia. Resting the book on his lap, he tore out another piece of tissue and stuffed it up his nostrils, trying hard not to let his eyes water. In fact, he was getting a little light-headed from sneezing and blowing his nose so much...
Then he was distracted by a cheerful, beaky* laugh.
*note #2: refer to chapter 1's first note on beaked beings, won't you? But to further elaborate, a beaky laugh would sound something close to 'Gnyakakaka' or 'Gnagnagnagna'.
"That smells great, Zidane! What are you cooking for lunch today?"
An old man who just entered headed straight into the kitchen, and much laughing and talking was heard from the kitchen of creation.
Instinctively, Kuja ran a hand through his hair for confidence boosting, but rested on a bunch of tangles instead. He cursed under his breath somewhere along the lines of his recent health affecting the condition of his hair. Withdrawing his hand out of his hair carefully and swearing to get a good bottle of conditioner soon, he reached into his pyjamas pocket for a hairbrush.
Turning to the next page of what he was trying to read, he softly brushed his hair over his left shoulder. Some parts of the book were written in an older language. Some of which he could decipher, but most of it somewhat a muddle of ink to him. With his knowledge, he would be able to read the words one by one if he had enough concentration and time. Right now, he was only browsing, hoping to see any key words that may have something to do with magic not working on someone the way it should.
He had a feeling it could be just his magic not working, since he was not exactly in the pink of his health whenever casting Curaga lately.
Then the pungent smell grew stronger...and closer.
The enthusiastic cook brought out his creation proudly and set it on the table like any confident chef would, and posed.
"Everyone behold! The one and only, Zi-da-ne curry!"
The lively young man wagged his finger and poised his nose high, as if lecturing the ceilings.
"This is a recipe only known to a rare few, so it'll be a waste it you don't feast your eyes, nose, ears and mouth on this exquisite delicacy!"
"It is indeed a rare dish, my dear Mr Chef, and you're probably the ONLY one who can come up with such a pungent stew..."
Gently shutting the book and piling the one he was currently reading on top of a small pile beside him, Kuja lazily stretched his back and then turned to face the dining table.
"Hey, it smells strong, but it tastes good!" Zidane coaxed, hoping to get his picky brother to try out the Best Curry* in All Gaia™
* note #3: And according to Kuja, the ONLY Curry in All Gaia.
As if on cue, he was backed up by Doctor Tot, who was already at the table and slurping up the curry from his spoon.
"Yes, it's strong, it's spicy with a bitter tang, but there's a sweet fragrant aftertaste..." was the analysis from the wise old doctor.
Kuja considered his risk. The doctor's words should be trustworthy.* Patting the non-existing dust off his bottom as he stood up, he went over and took the bowl of incomprehensible stew Zidane offered.
* note #4: Though Doctor Tot appears to be suspiciously harbouring different taste buds from normal people (he looks like a bird, and what do birds eat?), he could be trusted...or can he?
"Let me get this over and done with, just to make the silly monkey happy," thought Kuja, as he put the bowl to his lips and drank.
After one big mouthful, the bowl was quickly put down on the table as the silver-haired Genome spluttered and coughed.
Zidane nearly fell over laughing, but decided to show some concern and offered water as he patted the fellow monkey-tail on the back.
"What are you *hack* laughing at?!" Kuja coughed in Zidane's face, annoyed at the poor boy's attempt to succumb to laughter.
Then he started to sneeze all over again.
"!@#$^&^^%$$%@," went Kuja, wondering if the frequency of his nose running had anything to do with Zidane being around."Hey, you okay? Maybe the curry was too strong. When I first tasted this from Quina, I sneezed lots too."
"The Qu?" Kuja sneezed once more, right into Zidane's face.
Ignoring the rude sneeze so as to reduce the poor sneezing Genome's embarrassment, Zidane quickly continued his tale.
"Yeah. I took out the frogs and oglops from this recipe and altered it a little here and there though. I mean, I don't really like oglops that much..."
Kuja winced. He had never trusted anyone from the Qu clan with cooking, all great chefs they may be. What other horrors lurk in the stew?
Dr Tot further expressed his experience in the world of cuisine.
"Frogs may help make this curry more sweet, and oglops can give an even more interesting aftertaste," stroking his beard, the elder helped himself to another helping.Looking more pallid than he already is, Kuja excused himself and staggered into the room.
The room door slammed.
It was Zidane's turn to wince.
"He didn't like it? Maybe I should have added the vinegar they use for pickling ghyshl greens as well...maybe it'll taste better?"
Zidane frowned, failing in his attempt to please one of his only family."Ghakakaka! Don't worry, boy, just give him a little more time to get used to this!" The optimist of a bird-like doctor laughed.
When Zidane was about to keep the dirty dishes, a cloaked man rushed out of the room and bolted out of the door.
"Huh? Kuja?" Zidane tilted his glance to the doorway, then decided to leave him be. He probably ran out of nail polish or something.
------------
------------Night fell.
The clock struck twelve.
The mouse ran down the clock.
And ran up again.
And got squished by the moving second hand.
And after this twisted nursery rhyme, Kuja still wasn't back.
Zidane went out of the observatory and sat at the doorway. There were always the same few people hanging around in this area of Treno, even at this absurd hour of the night. The young blond had never really figured out why these people had nothing better to do.
"What the heck are you doing right now, Kuja?" Zidane brooded, and waved his tail like one would tap his foot in waiting.
The night air was cool, totally in contrast with the busy night scenes of Treno. People were everywhere, and it was not easy to imagine it being a cool place at night, but it was. The wind was soothing, blowing through Zidane's hair like a fine comb.
Such weather was the most fitting for one to drown in thoughts.
That was exactly what Zidane did. He wondered how long it had been since he had such a strange warm feeling, as he waited for Kuja.
The first person that came into his mind was Baku. His hand instinctively touched his cheek. It still smarted there where Baku had whapped him upside down. Even now it hurts, but in a fond, nostalgic manner.
It was quite some years ago...
The young boy was tired and hungry.
The sound of his footsteps dragged along the alley of Lindblum. His heart was heavy as he still could not find what was missing in his life. After all, the only clue he had was blue light.Blue skies, blue rivers were everywhere, but none matched the intensity of blue he remembers. Days passed, and he had not even gathered any trace of clues, much less any clues. Some people from specific tribes and clans have tails, but none of them have ever seen or heard of one like his own.
As if installed with a homing device, his weary feet brought him back to a familiar alley, the streets bustling with activities. None of them really took note of him. The adults stuck up their noses at the scruffy little boy, and the children teased his wearied look.
Then he came to the doorway. A large, overbearing man stood there, tapping his feet. The young blond twitched his tail in nervousness as he faced the stout adult.
The older man sternly frowned at the boy, and before he could utter an apology, a hand firmly hit him in the face.
"What did you do that for?" was the only thing the boy thought of, but when he looked up at the big man's face again, he was surprised.
The stern, stiff whiskered man turned into a jolly santa, laughing his glasses off.
It hurt on the outside, but when he saw how Baku laughed, the small boy did not hurt anymore.
"That very moment, he was relieved that I came back. At the same time, it was as if he knew all along that I would return, and waited right there in the theatre house..." the soft breeze caressed the blond youth's cheek.
It was then that I imagined that if I found my family, that would be how I would feel...
Would they welcome me? Or would they be like Baku, wondering where I had been the whole time, but expecting me to come back?
It was an intoxicating breeze, and Zidane could almost feel his consciousness take wing.
A man came into view and broke the mundane scene. Zidane perked up.
It was not Kuja, but the nerdy auctioneer he saw some days ago.
Under Kuja's instructions, the young auctioneer handed the bewildered blond Genome a set of pyjamas and a cloak.
"Mr Kuja says you should go back to Alexandria."
Zidane's eyebrows furrowed into a glare, and demanded, "where did he go to?"
"I'm afraid sir, that he did not tell me." The nerdy man reported and then went away, leaving Zidane to wonder.
"Why are you doing this to me?"
Zidane thought deep and hard, then tried calling out to Kuja.
"What are you thinking about, Kuja?!" A link was almost established. Using a mental image of Kuja, Zidane tried to project his message across. If Mikoto could do it, perhaps there was really some sort of link between them Genomes.
He concentrated, and he could feel a line reaching out from him to his intended receiver. It was working! He could nearly see the other end of his 'mental telephone'.
Then the line snapped.
Violently.
Zidane yelped and clasped his head in a slight shock. Then he felt pain, coming from his abdomen. He turned away from the wind and tried to head back into the observatory, panting as the breeze blew the hair into his face. He was getting light-headed, and sneezed.
Then he collapsed.
******************
******************The sun was rising.
A silver dragon rode the skies, a little unstable, as it had only been recently domesticated. To be specific, it was called into obedience only a few hours ago.
It screeched as it felt a sharp, irritating pain.
"Hush," a refined young man shushed the dragon, and soothed its back where two feathers were plucked without warning.
"And steer over to the direction of that river there," a voice sounded. It swayed a little, then as if being hypnotized, it swung in the river's direction. Nothing less than total submission to its new master, the elegant silver drake realized. Unless it wanted to be plucked bare of its beautiful feathers and roast on a fire for breakfast later, that is.
The rays of light broke through the thin clouds and blanketed the earth. The morning rays were slowly growing stronger with each second. The silver dragon's feathers reflected much light, and its owner pressed a hand gently on his own silver hair to prevent it from getting tangled with the wind.
Silver beings against the golden rays.
Such sight belonged to the sunrise.
Then the dragon howled once more, as the silver-headed Genome decided to pluck another two more feathers, mixing them into his own hair with such skill that a flower-arranger would be in total awe.
"I am on my way, Mikoto."
"And I shall be waiting. Are you sure you do not want to bring Zidane along?"
"He has no business with us."
"Whatever you wish then. I had half expected this to happen."
"Really?" A mock smile appeared on Kuja's face.
"You are such an amusing Genome, Kuja. It is very interesting that such complications in emotions can evolve from very simple situations. In fact, it is even more intriguing that I am starting to think that I feel the same way as you do."
"Sure. Whatever. And quit talking like Garland."
"You sound like Zidane right now."
Kuja heard a soft giggle over the psychically created communication line, and then raised a thin eyebrow.
"You've really changed, Mikoto, I never thought I'd hear you laugh* when we were still in Bran Bal."
*note #5: Or ANY Genomes for that matter. The fact is, Kuja laughs way too much for one who lives on Terra. He must be a very happy Genome.
Kuja: NOT!"And neither have I expected that we can get together so well even after you know I was made to be Garland's 'third angel-of-death'..."
Kuja gave a faint chuckle, and leant forward, nuzzling the back of his steed's neck.
"Our telephone bill is going to be very expensive, Mikoto."
"Huh?"
"I mean it is time to cut this conversation short."
"All right."
With a fizzle, Mikoto cut off the link between her and Kuja. A tired sigh escaped Kuja's glossed lips, and he took out a glass ball and projected the image of the not-exactly-very-well-remodeled Invincible. He had taken it from the bedroom before he left. Analyzing the plans of the craft once more, he started formulating the possibilities of how this projector came into existence.
***************
***************Zidane felt choked. His head was heavy, his body sore. Even his tail felt like a ton of bricks.
He stirred and the soft blankets that made him look like cocoon slipped off his shoulders.
A hand grabbed the blankets and tucked them back to his chin firmly.
"Guughh..."
"Just rest. You're having a flu."
"Flu?" Zidane thought to himself, "when was flu ever this bad?"
"This is a rather serious case," the old bearded man squawked before leaving, "I wonder where you got it from."
Zidane's thoughts drifted, unable to get his brains to function clearly, but he focused on pondering upon Doctor Tot's question.
Come to think of it, he had not done anything obvious that would result to him being sick. Nope, no walking in the rain or something. Perhaps something less obvious. He backtracked to the day he collapsed, and traced each event one by one.
He hung out the laundry in the morning, then prepared breakfast.
Nothing strange happened. Just that Kuja was insisted on eating and reading at the same time. Then he made curry in the afternoon. Doctor Tot and he had some fun seeing Kuja versus the Spicy Curry. Then Kuja retreated to the bedroom.Wait. There was something that happened in between the last two events.
Then Zidane remembered. Kuja had sneezed in his face too. He knew Kuja was recovering from a bout of influenza. Could it be this incident that caused his flu?
"Damn. You all just had to leave me alone to be sick here, don't cha?" Zidane mumbled, "and to think I searched so hard for my family, too..."
"Just wait till I get well..." the delirious monkey complained, as Doctor Tot came back in with some hot soup.
"It'll take at least a week for you to get well, my boy," the doctor said, which earned a groan from the sick boy.
************************
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- End of Chapter 3 -
13 August 2001