Chapter 4

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I'm going to die.

He's going to kill me.

We were locked into some sort of staring contest, him at the entrance of the alley, and me against the furthest wall. The second he'd walked into the shop, I knew he was searching for me.

What a terrifying feeling that is.

The second I saw that damned ribbon, the one I'd given that woman, I wanted to scream. She had known, the owner, that I was panicking to get out and away from that man. The man I hadn't recognized by sight, but by smell.

He smelled of blood, in the same way that I tend to. Not the kind of acidic iron smell, but the faint smell of haunting souls that linger.

How was he any better than I, then? Was it not his job to kill, what kept him alive?

Were we really all that different?

Yes.

You're just a beast.

At least he's a beast with a collar and a sense of morals.

He steps forward, advancing. I can't die here. I have to live, or else it will all have been meaningless from the start.

Or else there will be no Kuja.

I don't move. To be correct, I can't move. I have to live, and to live I must fight, but I can't move. The weak know when they're up against a much stronger being. I can only watch as he slowly, calmly, comes closer.

"You're not going to lunge at me? I was sent to get rid of you, you know."

I can feel my form slipping from me, and I claw internally to keep myself from losing it. I can't become a child right now. If I'm going to die, I would rather at least look like myself.

"If you're going to kill me, then hurry up about it."

He looks curious, and I force myself to stare evenly at those reddish-brown eyes. Monsters always have a stopping point.

"Are those your last words?"

"My last words? No."

He's right in front of me now, his eyes unfeeling but not entirely unkind. It's entrancing. I sink to my knees, looking down at the ground. I only notice now that it's pouring rain, the drops making tiny splashes around us.

"Do you have any?"

Last words...

"Will you burn my body?"

"You want to be cremated?"

"No. I don't need to be ashes. I just... want to go... wherever my family went."

"I see. I'll see what can do."

I stay silent for a moment longer, then smile. I'm not sure where it comes from, unlike the tears that cascade down my face. A cold spreads through me, ice from around his feet spreading up my body.

"Thank you, Steven A. Starphase."

"For what?"

I lift my head, to meet those eyes one last time.

"For ending the lives of lonely monsters like Kuja."

I can no longer move. I can't see either, my eyes burning from the cold shell of ice around me. I can tell I'm not really breathing... my lungs are just spasming from the lack of air.

It's painful.

Excruciatingly so.

But all I feel is deep sense of relief.

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He was left, in the silence of his home, to contemplate exactly what had happened. Since when was he a police dog, to obey orders without thinking twice? Since when did he just accept the evidence and facts that he was given?

There was no doubt that he had the right person. It had all matched up perfectly.

Except sometimes the right person had the right reasons. Had he tried to understand reasons? Of course not. That was more of a Klaus and Leonardo mindset.

So why was he sitting in his room, staring down at a man who should be dead?

Kuja, was it?

That had certainly seemed to be his name, from the way he'd said it. So calmly. He'd been afraid, but he must have known that he was wrong.

Only humans can feel what is right from wrong.

That what he'd always believed. And if this one knew he was wrong, if he understood that his kills were unethical, what made him a monster? Nothing. He was just a human who killed, knowing it was wrong. There was a reason for that, as with all things, but there was only one thing Steven was able to rationalize in the following moments of those words.

If he wasn't a monster, then why was he killing him?

Death was for monsters. Jail was for humans. Except he hadn't been able to bring himself to turn in the frozen man, for even though he'd stopped his ice it had done its work, into the hands of those he felt had fooled him. He'd brought him home, put him into a warm bath until he'd thawed, and then tucked him into the warm sheets of his own bed.

During the process of thawing him, Kuja had taken on the form of a child. Steven couldn't say if it was a natural thing or if it was due to his ice, since the child form had been wearing clothes different from his adult form.

Pushing aside his frustration with himself, he took the time to take a good look at the tiger human. In his adult form, he'd had the stature and physical age of somewhere close to 17, with a sharp, feminine face and angled features. He'd had the appearance of a young boy that would be considered weak by others. Even with his long hair, he'd only seemed slightly older. However, as a child, he had a more rounded, boyish appearance. Despite his face that had not yet lost its baby cheeks, and a body untouched by the muscle lines and strength of adulthood, he was more masculine to the eye. His ears and tail were more prominent, as they'd fit his adult form well enough that one might hardly think anything of it. They appeared larger on the body that hadn't grown into them.

In both forms, his hair was black, a beautiful ebony that he could not help but admire. His eyes, though he hadn't seen the eyes of the child form except for a brief moment, seemed to have remained the same deep grayish black as well. His lips were a light pink, plump and soft-looking. They prompted a memory to Steven of a scene he'd seen while traveling once, of a young father and his tiny son. He remembered very vividly the scene, for the man's wife had seemed embarrassed by the way he affectionately kissed his child on the lips when he was cooed at. It was very clear that this was not a pedophile act, as the mother was smiling quite genuinely and there was only parental love in the man's eyes. He remembered the man ignoring his wife, and remarking to his tiny son that those who ever got the chance to be kissed by him would find his lips very kissable indeed.

He wasn't sure why he remembered it, but he certainly see how the man had seen something like that. Both of the forms that he'd seen had indeed looked quite kissable, if one was interested and accepted. It was a logical thought, one devoid of any particular emotion, yet he couldn't help but smile wryly at someone could take such a statement the wrong way.

For now, he mused, he had other responsibilities to take care of. After all, taking care of a man-eating tiger long-term wasn't exactly the easiest task.

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