My Canary

"But I want you to come alone, Zidane. Alone."

"Zidane, it surely is a trap! Proceed with caution!"

Zidane turned to Steiner and shrugged. "Yeah, tell me about it. There was no point complaining about something he couldn't change, and he was going in if that's what it took to save his friends. "I'll be okay! You guys just wait here," he added, knowing somehow, that Kuja was not intending to kill him.

"Come inside..."

And slowly, he opened the double doors, cautiously stepping closer.

"I'm so happy to see you again, Zidane." Kuja ran his long fingers through his silvery hair. "My friends better be alright!" Zidane yelled.

"Oh my! Blunt as always, I see..." he said, voice filled with laughter. "Take a look in there." He gestured towards a grate on the floor. Upon seeing the motionless bodies of his friends, Zidane panicked, ready to launch himself at Kuja, but he was interrupted.

"No need to worry. They just needed some rest, that's all. Now, give me the Gulug Stone..."

Zidane hesitated. "I don't trust you... let them go first. Then I'll give you your precious stone."

"Hmm... you seek to blackmail me! But I've changed my mind. There's something else I want you to do first."

Zidane flipped. "WHAT! Are you joking? I just journeyed halfway across the world and fought my way to get this damned thing, and now you want something else?" Enraged, he shook the Gulug Stone in the air. "Where's the next one, on the other side of Gaia?"

Kuja laughed delicately. "Calm down, my little canary. Just think about how much you want your friends back."

"I've proved how far I'll go to save them."

"Well then, it should do you no harm to prove it further..." Receiving no answer, Kuja continued. "Do as I say, and I won't harm them..."

"You promised you'd let them go for this stupid stone, now you've changed your mind! Why the hell would I trust you anymore?" Zidane stuffed the Stone back into his pocket. "What's the point of all of this anyway?"

Kuja laughed softly. "I want to prove that your friends are a burden to you... And now that I have them, I can make you do anything!"

"You're just a selfish narcissist on a power trip,"

Kuja closed in on him, skirt flowing behind. He was only the same size as Zidane, but the blond still tried to back away.

"Power? What would you know of power? You're helpless, Zidane, don't you see that? Beg me to spare their pitiful lives right now... or I'll kill each and every one." Kuja continued to smile, triumphantly... it made Zidane want to wipe that smirk off his girly face.

Knowing the problems he would face if he hit Kuja, he settled for a verbal attack. "Like I'd do that!" he spat.

"Zidane," the silver-haired man whispered. "Don't you realise that I mean what I say?"

Seeing the serious look on Kuja's face, Zidane realised the gravity of the situation, and his anger mutated into a horrible sense of helplessness. What should he choose? He was alone, the others were unconscious beneath them, unable to stand beside him...

Slowly, Kuja began to circle the other boy. Zidane pressed his gaze to the carpet beneath him. He did not want to see the skirt that he could hear swishing, the heels of the boots that clicked around him, nor see Kuja's effeminately curved hips swaying as he almost waltzed around his prey. He did not see the white hand reaching for him until the long nails were already against his skin.

The hand forced him to face his enemy. Zidane tried to look through him, not at him, as though there was no-one really there, but his imagination could not mask the sight of the silver-haired man, his bright eyes full of an unbridled happiness - nothing more than a twisted sense of triumph. "You look nervous, canary..."

As soon as he opened his mouth, Zidane forced himself to shut it again. He closed his eyes and silently admonished himself. The more compliant he was, perhaps the easier he would get away. And he wasn't sure if Kuja was serious... he could not risk the lives of his friends. So he simply opened his eyes and stared back at Kuja, defiantly. "I'm not nervous... I just want to know what you're asking for... and why!"

Zidane had not been sure what kind of reaction that remark would get, but when the other man turned away slightly and laughed quietly, it surprised him, and for some reason, disturbed him. Did he even want to know what was so funny?

"You wouldn't want to know the reasons behind my orders," Kuja mysteriously stated.

"If you won't explain it to me, then just let us go now..." Zidane said, casually.

"You don't understand?..."

"Don't understand? I thought I wasn't supposed to! Why am I still here? Kuja! This is ridiculous!" Zidane shouted. "I completed your little quest, now you let my friends out, or I swear, I'll take you on, here and now!"

Kuja gazed at him, with a little shock, and something that seemed like sorrow. "So I am to take the stone, release your comrades, and let you all walk away?" He stepped closer to Zidane. "Am I to be alone again?"

"Hello? Have you forgotten everything that you've done! Of course you're alone, you murderous maniac!" Zidane was yelling before he knew it. It seemed to him that he had regained his dignity, now that he was on his feet again. He didn't care how powerful his opponent was supposed to be, or what threats were made... he had regained his self-control and would never again yield it, not to Kuja. "How can someone like you expect pity!"

Still close, Kuja leaned in and gently touched his lips against Zidane's. For a moment, they were still. Zidane's eyes were wide, his mind registering what Kuja had done - and when he figured it out, he pushed the other man.

"...What... what was that about?" The snap had left his voice. So much for self-control. He had been thrown completely off course.

"I think you're beginning to understand," Kuja whispered. Their faces were still close together, eyes locked on eyes.

"I don't think I've ever understood less..." Zidane tried to force some of his former harshness into his voice, but his only achievement was a hoarse whisper.

"You didn't react too adversely. Am I to take that as encouragement?"

Feeling his mind turn separate ways, Zidane contemplated his reply. There was no reason he should feel anything but utter hatred for Kuja, not after the way his friends, especially Dagger and Vivi, had suffered at his hands. But his instincts were telling him not to lash out.

"You are especially quiet. Zidane, look at me." He complied. And seeing those delicate features, devoid of twisted smile, of hate-filled eyes, of gleeful insanity... made Zidane feel as though he was talking to a completely different person. Obviously not anticipating the response, Kuja again leaned in, and this time, as their lips touched, he slid his fingers lovingly through the blond's hair. And Zidane let himself fall.