[closed]

[waywardwings]

WHO: Zidane and Sebastian.
WHAT: Zidane receives a 'gift' at his brother's request.
WHERE: His apartment in the housing district.
WHEN: After midnight. Following Kuja's death and this entry.

Comments

[blackestate]

Midnight had passed, giving way to early morning. It was still dark, and cold, but Sebastian saw nor felt either as he walked down the streets towards his destination, to complete Kuja's last order.

Don't clean the dagger. Take it to my brother- personally give it to him. Housing District,

House 24.

His jacket was gone, left with the corpse. Gone also was the pristine white of his shirt, its front drenched with splatters and smudges of blood. His gloves were similarly soiled, as was the stained bundle he carried with his hands, heavy with the dagger's weight. But perhaps most tell-tale of Kuja's end was his mouth--blood dried upon his lips and cheek in a messy imitation of those lipstick kisses.

Sensing the boy's presence, he smiled, raised his hand, and knocked.

[waywardwings]

With some effort, Zidane slid off the couch to answer the door. Before he opened it, however, he checked his belt to ensure his one remaining dagger was securely in its sheath. Acting on Kuja's orders or not, Zidane wasn't prepared to take chances with this man. Or if he was particularly unlucky, it could have been one of those blood-crazed... people, if they could be called that any longer. Not that they'd even knock on doors to begin with; more like break them down.

He listened for a moment. Nothing but silence, so he opened the door.

The sight that was revealed made his stomach lurch. Even in the darkness of early morning, the thickness and scent of blood covering the man was unmistakable. He was already reeling from the journals, but this...

"You must be the one who did it," Zidane said bluntly, his tone clipped, almost businesslike. The only thing betraying his apprehension was the slight quiver of his tail. How very like Kuja to have others running around for him, even after his death. "What do you want?"

[blackestate]

...ah. It seemed the boy was scared. Pity, that: under normal circumstances Sebastian would have preferred to change out of the bloody clothes before meeting new acquaintences. But Sebastian was nothing if not prompt with obeying orders, and his temporary master had made it quite clear that the boy should know it was Sebastian who took Kuja's life. And as always, Sebastian preferred "show" over "tell".

Ignoring the boy's cold and slightly rude tone, Sebastian bowed briefly in greeting before holding the bloody-white bundle out for Kuja's brother to take.

"The gentleman bade me give this to you, young master. He wanted me to tell you that he has written the Final Act to his play."

The polite and pleasant smile he wore was more chilling than comforting.

[waywardwings]

However eerie this man was, he'd proved his intentions were not hostile, and Zidane relaxed-- as much as he could, given the situation. Yet he wouldn't take his eyes off the man as he took the bundle, and unwrapped it with numb acceptance. Lighting was poor, but he recognised it. A dagger, his dagger, the other of the pair to the one at his belt. Drenched in still-gleaming blood. A stained ribbon tied to the hilt that could have only belonged to one person.

Confirmation, then. Kuja was dead. Like an assassin might bring back proof of the deed to his employer, he'd gotten his dagger back fresh from the kill.

Should he have been sad? Shocked, horrified, maybe? He wasn't sure. He'd already seen Kuja die once, and maybe this second chance had been a little too good to be true. Rivelata was taxing even on Zidane's optimism.

"Thanks," he managed, his tone fractionally less icy as he wrapped the dagger back up. It wasn't a thank you for being a cold-blooded killer, but a thank you for helping him. Few people would be capable of handling

[blackestate]

“Nothing of overwhelming importance, sir.”

Sebastian stepped back, task completed, turning to leave. Lifting his head and watching the moon’s descent, he smiled at the Call’s attempt to enchain him. He’d been able to resist because of the strength of his contract with Master Ciel, but having killed Kuja, his condition was infinitely more stable.

Lacking the capacity to, he felt no regret. But perhaps he was vaguely indebted to the man, and the boy’s pathetic state after his brother’s death had a sort of forlorn quality that reminded him of his mistress back home. He’d keep that in mind, when he’d washed and changed, and considered what he was to do in the wake of Rivelata’s hilarious chain of disasters.

“He’s watching the stars. They’re beautiful tonight, are they not?”