Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ sore kara... ❯ omoi dasu ( Chapter 4 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: awwaw 
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Action | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 02.11.2003 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.6K | Visits: 257 | Status: Completed
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Action | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 02.11.2003 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.6K | Visits: 257 | Status: Completed
Standard disclaimers apply.
-------------------------------
sore kara...
-------------------------------
omoi dasu
"All men have stars,
"but they are not the same things for different people. For some, who are travellers, the stars are guides. For others they are no more than little lights in the sky. For others, who are scholars, they are problems. For my businessman they are wealth. But all these stars are silent. You - you alone - will have the stars as no one else has them -
"... and your friends will be properly astonished to see you laughing as you look up at the sky! Then you will say to them, 'Yes, the stars always make me laugh!' And they will think you are crazy.
"It will be as if, in place of the stars, I had given you a great number of little bells that knew how to laugh..."
-------------------------------
Kuja twirled his finger in a circular movement, then shot a lighting spell into the night, watching as the sparkles trailed themselves, one after another, into the starry sky. He then put his hand to his chin and smiled slightly at the stars, wondering whether Gaia and Terra were both part of the skyline.
As far as he had known it, 'The Little Prince' was originally an ancient novel, well loved and cherished by people of all ages who understood it's essence. About 500 years ago from his time, a man called Ipsen, from Gaia; the same man who had written 'I Want to be Your Canary', had adapted it into a play, and from then on, the story of the little prince lived from generation to generation.
Ipsen was well known as a great dramatist; one who wrote plays with such vibrance that actors clamoured to star in a show which he had scripted. Yet, in truth Ipsen was a traveller and an adventurer by nature. His bibliography included not just that of dramatic tragedies, but colourful records of his travels to the ends of the world and back. Few knew, and even fewer bothered to care. But Kuja did. Having been a lover of drama since creation, he had sought to find Ipsen's every script, reading every single one indiscriminately.
He felt like... he knew Ipsen.
Just like he felt like he'd somehow knew Cloud and Squall.
Shuffling noises beside him told of another presence. He watched impassively as Zidane sat down like a lead, not even flinching when he turned around and flashed the goofiest grin he'd ever seen the monkey do. When Zidane turned to look at the stars, he slowly did that as well.
"Was I..." Zidane silently prodded, "... very bad? So bad that you wouldn't even tell me who I was?"
Knowing where this would very well lead to, the ex-villian still didn't feel like resisting the question. He said, "No, Zidane. You were the sweetest Genome in the entire universe."
He immediately shut up after that, not exactly in the mood to start explaining what a Genome was. But fortunately for him, the monkey boy decided to let it go. He simply tossed his head back and laughed.
"I've been thinking about it," he said, putting his hands behind his head, leaning backwards and closing his eyes, "actually, I kindda get what you mean when you said you didn't know what to tell me...
"I mean, it really wouldn't be fair to let you tell me about my life. Heh, it *IS* my life, after all. Hearing it from someone else'll just ruin it all."
Kuja smiled faintly, glad that he didn't have to continue being interrogated. Sitting out in the cold without protection could really do wonders to a person's sanity and integrity. From the corner of his eye, he could see Zidane shuffle his hair (is there such a phrase?!) gently.
"When I woke up," Zidane said, "my head hurt alot. Everything was just like, woah, a big patch of bright light bordering on my consciousness. I wasn't even sure if I was alive. After a while, though, everything sorta settled back and I could think again." He narrowed his eyes, recalling the experience. "But it didn't help me one bit." He shook his head sadly. "I couldn't remember who I was. I didn't know where I was. I didn't know what had happened..."
"So when you saw me," Kuja quietly asked, "you thought I could help you? Fill in the blanks in your memories?"
Zidane laughed. "Maybe." His answer baffled his companion. "I knew you knew me. I thought... I just wanted to know what's wrong with me." He sighed, putting his hand near his heart. "Because... ever since I woke up, bits and pieces of memories started escaping me, when I almost caught on to one or two. It... kindda got onto my nerves after a while... There's something I remember pretty clearly, though... almost like it's imprinted into my head...
"... there's someone... someone reaching out for me, in those memories I don't quite remember..."
Kuja continued looking at his friend. Friend? Maybe they were friends. That's why they have proverbs like 'with friends like these, who needs enemies', right? But Kuja himself didn't know. In light of everything that had already happened to the two of them, he *was* beginning to see Zidane as a trustworthy companion. When he found out he was still alive, for a long time, he had thought of just going off to die again. What stopped him was the fact that he knew someone cared. Someone cared enough to come back to look for him against all odds...
But was that someone here with him at all?
From the corner of his eye, he could see their host walking towards them, flinging each of them a nice, warm and fluffy cotten bedsheet. He then settled down beside them and looked into the sky as well.
"I looted it from the Bone Village." He casually remarked. "When I went there this morning, there wasn't a single soul around. Oh well, but I left enough money on the table to fund them for an entire year, so I guess it can't be that bad." He laughed, to nobody in particular.
They all stared quietly at the stars.
"Those stars feel like little hands, reaching out to me." Zidane suddenly quipped. "I wonder what I should do?" He laughed, slapping his hands against his thighs.
"Is there something you're looking for?" Cloud asked, the genre of his question puzzling both Zidane and Kuja alike. "Maybe if you just reach out, you'll find it, right where it always has been, by your side..."
"Hmmmmmmm..." Zidane looked at Cloud thoughtfully, then turned his head back to the skies. "I didn't know you were a fan of Ipsen..."
"Ipsen?" Cloud wondered aloud despite himself.
"Yeah, Ipsen." Zidane grinned and replied. "You know, I-PSE-N!!" He made a face and pronounced the word as carefully as he could, like he was perhaps talking to a school of kindergarten children just learning how to pronounce.
Cloud continued staring at him like he had a fish in his ear. Kuja, however, was a little stunned over something. He tapped Zidane lightly on his shoulders. "Zidane?" He requested attention, which was given him. "You remember who Ipsen was?"
Zidane gave him a 'huh?' look. He slowly nodded and said, "Yeah, Baku would never take the deal unless it was an Ipsen's play. One of his weird idiosyncrasies, but hey, Ipsen's a pretty cool guy, so the guys never..." he stopped suddenly, as if finally realizing what he was talking about, "... the guys... the guys never..."
A sharp pain shot through every cell in his brain. "Ow!" He whimpered, caressing his head and hoping for comfort. Before Kuja could administer a cure spell to help with the pain, the young thief started quaking violently. "Dammit!" He finally said, bringing his fist into contact with the earth for not the first time that day. "Why can't I remember?!"
"You remembered Baku and Tantalus." Kuja offered, hoping that would rekindle something within him. "I'd say that's pretty much a feat in it's own right already."
"Baku? Tantalus??" Zidane whipped around to stare at Kuja, silently demanding answers. Another sharp pain flashed through his tired mind, forcing him back to staring at the stars in the open field. Before he could kick and thrash any longer, a quiet, peaceful aura took over his form and sent him into sweet slumber. Kuja found himself facing Cloud and his sleep materia orb when Zidane collapsed, sound asleep.
"Yeah, go ahead, make some more noise, throw a party, tell all the monsters we're ready to be eaten." Cloud rolled his eyes, stuffing the orb back into hammerspace. "Don't worry, he'll be awake by morning." He reassured the silver-haired man. "You'd better get some rest too, 'therwise you'll all be too weak to walk when the time comes. All this nonsense about Ipsens and Bakus and Tantaluses..." He mumbled incoherently.
"What about you?" Kuja obediently laid down and pulled the sheets over him. He did badly need some rest, especially after that Holy spell that morning. "Staying up to keep night watch?" He joked, then yawned.
"You must be kidding," Cloud laughed, "that's Squall's job, not mine."
Too tired to argue about the meaning of the sentence he'd just heard, Kuja closed his eyes and allowed the weird warmness in the wind to carry him into slumberland.
Which left Cloud to watch the sky alone, winking at the stars who winked back occasionally.
He stood up slowly, dusting the soil off his pants.
"How long are you gonna keep standing there?" He asked good-naturedly, eyes still on the sky.
After a short silence, Squall appeared in the doorway of the house, with his trademarked bored expression on his face. Breathing out, he put a hand on the framewood and turned to look at the sky as well. Who was to blame him for being bored, confused, and unable to express himself? Heck, even the author doesn't know what's going on anymore! But that will not stop this novel from continuing. On the contrary, the author is more determined than ever to finish off what had been started. Anyway, I digress. At this point of time, Squall also slid silently onto the grass with his share of the bedsheet and rested along the rest of the motley crew. Cloud sniggered.
"You must be in a very bad mood." He gave Squall a light pat on the back. Squall turned to look at him with his bad mood face.
"Actually, I'm not in a very bad mood." He told Cloud, then added, "Believe it or not."
"Then what's with the sour face?" Cloud turned his lower lip up. He proceeded to imitate Squall's mindless expression. "See? You could poke a needle through my face right now and my head'll probably burst. You gotta stop looking so full of yourself, or of anything else, if you wanna be able to make some friends."
He laughed.
"I mean, I know you already *have* friends, but oh well. Being sociable helps in things besides making friends."
Squall turned away, still with that sour look on his face. "I was born with this face. I'm sorry you're so bothered about it."
Unable to determine whether or not that was a joke, Cloud kept his peace.
"May I ask you something which may seem totally irrelevant and entirely ridiculous?" Squall suddenly pipped.
"Sure," Cloud nodded, having seen all the freaks in the world, including Kuja, "but let me guess your question. Somewhere along the lines of, 'where in the world am I'?"
"................" went Squall, "... close, but actually, I wanted to ask you, where did you find me?"
"Huh?" Cloud wasn't sure if he heard that right.
"You heard me. Where did you find me?"
Cloud eyed the boy for a while, thinking about something. Then he said, "Can I counter-ask you something before I answer that?"
"... Yeah."
"Where were you?"
Although unsure if he had interpreted the question correctly, Squall answered, "I was trapped in time compression."
He saw Cloud looking blankly at him.
"Ugh, yeah, right," Cloud finally managed to sputter, "time compression. Cool. Whatever it was." He frowned. "Can you give some sort of a physical description of it instead?"
"Oh." Squall said, in a small voice. "I can't really remember. I think it was a floating piece of dried land. About the size of this house," he jerked a thumb towards the house they were leaning on, "I think."
"A floating piece of dry land?!" Cloud raised his voice a little, beside himself with exasperation. "As much as I want to believe that, Squall... what in the world are you talking about??"
"........" Squall rolled his eyes and shrugged. He was asked a question, he gave the answer. Trust him to be shouted at nevertheless. Oh well. "... I don't know. I already told you, I was trapped in time compression. I probably didn't manage to get out or something. Maybe I got thrown so far back in time, the people here don't really know about some of the stuff we do in my time."
This set Cloud to thinking. Time compression? That was a weird theory. But Kuja *had* mentioned names of places he didn't recognize, and was sure as anything didn't exist on the Planet. He'd never seen anybody with a tail either, come to think about it. And he was sure if he asked, Squall wouldn't know anything about materia, just like how Kuja had failed to appreciate the importance of those orbs. Now if they *truly* were from the future...
"Well..." Cloud began, "... okay. Time compression. Yeah," he nodded his head, sparing no efforts to put on a convincing enough expression to hoodwink the boy. "As for your previous question, I found you in the Sleeping Forest; if that helps any."
"... Sleeping Forest..." Squall said the words with doubt in his voice. He obviously had never heard of the place before. Maybe it was somewhere in an island so far away from mainland that only a selected group of people knew about it? He didn't know. He desperately wanted to know. There was someone waiting for him to go back. From the back of his mind, the name 'Rinoa' popped in. Once that came, the colour of sky-blue automatically followed...
"Hey Squall," Cloud called out to the boy, jerking him back into reality from where he had put his head in the clouds, "tell us more about this time compression thing when we all wake up tomorrow, 'kay? I got a feeling we're onto something here. But for now, let's just turn in for the night."
Squall looked at Cloud for a while, making Cloud wonder just what in the world these guys loved to think about so much. Finally, Squall nodded, and turned the other way to rest on his side.
"Okay."
Was the last word he said, before closing his eyes and allowing sleep to take over.
-------------------------------
omoi dashita
23/5/2001
http://cloud-is.ourfamily.com/
Other disclaimers:
'The Little Prince', by Antione De Saint-Exupery. Quoted for impact, respected for beauty. No profit is being or should be made out of it's little appearance in the above text.
By the way:
'I want to be your Canary' was written by Lord Avon, not Ipsen. XD As for why the change in this fic, well... you'll see why when we go further down the plot.
-------------------------------
sore kara...
-------------------------------
omoi dasu
"All men have stars,
"but they are not the same things for different people. For some, who are travellers, the stars are guides. For others they are no more than little lights in the sky. For others, who are scholars, they are problems. For my businessman they are wealth. But all these stars are silent. You - you alone - will have the stars as no one else has them -
"... and your friends will be properly astonished to see you laughing as you look up at the sky! Then you will say to them, 'Yes, the stars always make me laugh!' And they will think you are crazy.
"It will be as if, in place of the stars, I had given you a great number of little bells that knew how to laugh..."
-------------------------------
Kuja twirled his finger in a circular movement, then shot a lighting spell into the night, watching as the sparkles trailed themselves, one after another, into the starry sky. He then put his hand to his chin and smiled slightly at the stars, wondering whether Gaia and Terra were both part of the skyline.
As far as he had known it, 'The Little Prince' was originally an ancient novel, well loved and cherished by people of all ages who understood it's essence. About 500 years ago from his time, a man called Ipsen, from Gaia; the same man who had written 'I Want to be Your Canary', had adapted it into a play, and from then on, the story of the little prince lived from generation to generation.
Ipsen was well known as a great dramatist; one who wrote plays with such vibrance that actors clamoured to star in a show which he had scripted. Yet, in truth Ipsen was a traveller and an adventurer by nature. His bibliography included not just that of dramatic tragedies, but colourful records of his travels to the ends of the world and back. Few knew, and even fewer bothered to care. But Kuja did. Having been a lover of drama since creation, he had sought to find Ipsen's every script, reading every single one indiscriminately.
He felt like... he knew Ipsen.
Just like he felt like he'd somehow knew Cloud and Squall.
Shuffling noises beside him told of another presence. He watched impassively as Zidane sat down like a lead, not even flinching when he turned around and flashed the goofiest grin he'd ever seen the monkey do. When Zidane turned to look at the stars, he slowly did that as well.
"Was I..." Zidane silently prodded, "... very bad? So bad that you wouldn't even tell me who I was?"
Knowing where this would very well lead to, the ex-villian still didn't feel like resisting the question. He said, "No, Zidane. You were the sweetest Genome in the entire universe."
He immediately shut up after that, not exactly in the mood to start explaining what a Genome was. But fortunately for him, the monkey boy decided to let it go. He simply tossed his head back and laughed.
"I've been thinking about it," he said, putting his hands behind his head, leaning backwards and closing his eyes, "actually, I kindda get what you mean when you said you didn't know what to tell me...
"I mean, it really wouldn't be fair to let you tell me about my life. Heh, it *IS* my life, after all. Hearing it from someone else'll just ruin it all."
Kuja smiled faintly, glad that he didn't have to continue being interrogated. Sitting out in the cold without protection could really do wonders to a person's sanity and integrity. From the corner of his eye, he could see Zidane shuffle his hair (is there such a phrase?!) gently.
"When I woke up," Zidane said, "my head hurt alot. Everything was just like, woah, a big patch of bright light bordering on my consciousness. I wasn't even sure if I was alive. After a while, though, everything sorta settled back and I could think again." He narrowed his eyes, recalling the experience. "But it didn't help me one bit." He shook his head sadly. "I couldn't remember who I was. I didn't know where I was. I didn't know what had happened..."
"So when you saw me," Kuja quietly asked, "you thought I could help you? Fill in the blanks in your memories?"
Zidane laughed. "Maybe." His answer baffled his companion. "I knew you knew me. I thought... I just wanted to know what's wrong with me." He sighed, putting his hand near his heart. "Because... ever since I woke up, bits and pieces of memories started escaping me, when I almost caught on to one or two. It... kindda got onto my nerves after a while... There's something I remember pretty clearly, though... almost like it's imprinted into my head...
"... there's someone... someone reaching out for me, in those memories I don't quite remember..."
Kuja continued looking at his friend. Friend? Maybe they were friends. That's why they have proverbs like 'with friends like these, who needs enemies', right? But Kuja himself didn't know. In light of everything that had already happened to the two of them, he *was* beginning to see Zidane as a trustworthy companion. When he found out he was still alive, for a long time, he had thought of just going off to die again. What stopped him was the fact that he knew someone cared. Someone cared enough to come back to look for him against all odds...
But was that someone here with him at all?
From the corner of his eye, he could see their host walking towards them, flinging each of them a nice, warm and fluffy cotten bedsheet. He then settled down beside them and looked into the sky as well.
"I looted it from the Bone Village." He casually remarked. "When I went there this morning, there wasn't a single soul around. Oh well, but I left enough money on the table to fund them for an entire year, so I guess it can't be that bad." He laughed, to nobody in particular.
They all stared quietly at the stars.
"Those stars feel like little hands, reaching out to me." Zidane suddenly quipped. "I wonder what I should do?" He laughed, slapping his hands against his thighs.
"Is there something you're looking for?" Cloud asked, the genre of his question puzzling both Zidane and Kuja alike. "Maybe if you just reach out, you'll find it, right where it always has been, by your side..."
"Hmmmmmmm..." Zidane looked at Cloud thoughtfully, then turned his head back to the skies. "I didn't know you were a fan of Ipsen..."
"Ipsen?" Cloud wondered aloud despite himself.
"Yeah, Ipsen." Zidane grinned and replied. "You know, I-PSE-N!!" He made a face and pronounced the word as carefully as he could, like he was perhaps talking to a school of kindergarten children just learning how to pronounce.
Cloud continued staring at him like he had a fish in his ear. Kuja, however, was a little stunned over something. He tapped Zidane lightly on his shoulders. "Zidane?" He requested attention, which was given him. "You remember who Ipsen was?"
Zidane gave him a 'huh?' look. He slowly nodded and said, "Yeah, Baku would never take the deal unless it was an Ipsen's play. One of his weird idiosyncrasies, but hey, Ipsen's a pretty cool guy, so the guys never..." he stopped suddenly, as if finally realizing what he was talking about, "... the guys... the guys never..."
A sharp pain shot through every cell in his brain. "Ow!" He whimpered, caressing his head and hoping for comfort. Before Kuja could administer a cure spell to help with the pain, the young thief started quaking violently. "Dammit!" He finally said, bringing his fist into contact with the earth for not the first time that day. "Why can't I remember?!"
"You remembered Baku and Tantalus." Kuja offered, hoping that would rekindle something within him. "I'd say that's pretty much a feat in it's own right already."
"Baku? Tantalus??" Zidane whipped around to stare at Kuja, silently demanding answers. Another sharp pain flashed through his tired mind, forcing him back to staring at the stars in the open field. Before he could kick and thrash any longer, a quiet, peaceful aura took over his form and sent him into sweet slumber. Kuja found himself facing Cloud and his sleep materia orb when Zidane collapsed, sound asleep.
"Yeah, go ahead, make some more noise, throw a party, tell all the monsters we're ready to be eaten." Cloud rolled his eyes, stuffing the orb back into hammerspace. "Don't worry, he'll be awake by morning." He reassured the silver-haired man. "You'd better get some rest too, 'therwise you'll all be too weak to walk when the time comes. All this nonsense about Ipsens and Bakus and Tantaluses..." He mumbled incoherently.
"What about you?" Kuja obediently laid down and pulled the sheets over him. He did badly need some rest, especially after that Holy spell that morning. "Staying up to keep night watch?" He joked, then yawned.
"You must be kidding," Cloud laughed, "that's Squall's job, not mine."
Too tired to argue about the meaning of the sentence he'd just heard, Kuja closed his eyes and allowed the weird warmness in the wind to carry him into slumberland.
Which left Cloud to watch the sky alone, winking at the stars who winked back occasionally.
He stood up slowly, dusting the soil off his pants.
"How long are you gonna keep standing there?" He asked good-naturedly, eyes still on the sky.
After a short silence, Squall appeared in the doorway of the house, with his trademarked bored expression on his face. Breathing out, he put a hand on the framewood and turned to look at the sky as well. Who was to blame him for being bored, confused, and unable to express himself? Heck, even the author doesn't know what's going on anymore! But that will not stop this novel from continuing. On the contrary, the author is more determined than ever to finish off what had been started. Anyway, I digress. At this point of time, Squall also slid silently onto the grass with his share of the bedsheet and rested along the rest of the motley crew. Cloud sniggered.
"You must be in a very bad mood." He gave Squall a light pat on the back. Squall turned to look at him with his bad mood face.
"Actually, I'm not in a very bad mood." He told Cloud, then added, "Believe it or not."
"Then what's with the sour face?" Cloud turned his lower lip up. He proceeded to imitate Squall's mindless expression. "See? You could poke a needle through my face right now and my head'll probably burst. You gotta stop looking so full of yourself, or of anything else, if you wanna be able to make some friends."
He laughed.
"I mean, I know you already *have* friends, but oh well. Being sociable helps in things besides making friends."
Squall turned away, still with that sour look on his face. "I was born with this face. I'm sorry you're so bothered about it."
Unable to determine whether or not that was a joke, Cloud kept his peace.
"May I ask you something which may seem totally irrelevant and entirely ridiculous?" Squall suddenly pipped.
"Sure," Cloud nodded, having seen all the freaks in the world, including Kuja, "but let me guess your question. Somewhere along the lines of, 'where in the world am I'?"
"................" went Squall, "... close, but actually, I wanted to ask you, where did you find me?"
"Huh?" Cloud wasn't sure if he heard that right.
"You heard me. Where did you find me?"
Cloud eyed the boy for a while, thinking about something. Then he said, "Can I counter-ask you something before I answer that?"
"... Yeah."
"Where were you?"
Although unsure if he had interpreted the question correctly, Squall answered, "I was trapped in time compression."
He saw Cloud looking blankly at him.
"Ugh, yeah, right," Cloud finally managed to sputter, "time compression. Cool. Whatever it was." He frowned. "Can you give some sort of a physical description of it instead?"
"Oh." Squall said, in a small voice. "I can't really remember. I think it was a floating piece of dried land. About the size of this house," he jerked a thumb towards the house they were leaning on, "I think."
"A floating piece of dry land?!" Cloud raised his voice a little, beside himself with exasperation. "As much as I want to believe that, Squall... what in the world are you talking about??"
"........" Squall rolled his eyes and shrugged. He was asked a question, he gave the answer. Trust him to be shouted at nevertheless. Oh well. "... I don't know. I already told you, I was trapped in time compression. I probably didn't manage to get out or something. Maybe I got thrown so far back in time, the people here don't really know about some of the stuff we do in my time."
This set Cloud to thinking. Time compression? That was a weird theory. But Kuja *had* mentioned names of places he didn't recognize, and was sure as anything didn't exist on the Planet. He'd never seen anybody with a tail either, come to think about it. And he was sure if he asked, Squall wouldn't know anything about materia, just like how Kuja had failed to appreciate the importance of those orbs. Now if they *truly* were from the future...
"Well..." Cloud began, "... okay. Time compression. Yeah," he nodded his head, sparing no efforts to put on a convincing enough expression to hoodwink the boy. "As for your previous question, I found you in the Sleeping Forest; if that helps any."
"... Sleeping Forest..." Squall said the words with doubt in his voice. He obviously had never heard of the place before. Maybe it was somewhere in an island so far away from mainland that only a selected group of people knew about it? He didn't know. He desperately wanted to know. There was someone waiting for him to go back. From the back of his mind, the name 'Rinoa' popped in. Once that came, the colour of sky-blue automatically followed...
"Hey Squall," Cloud called out to the boy, jerking him back into reality from where he had put his head in the clouds, "tell us more about this time compression thing when we all wake up tomorrow, 'kay? I got a feeling we're onto something here. But for now, let's just turn in for the night."
Squall looked at Cloud for a while, making Cloud wonder just what in the world these guys loved to think about so much. Finally, Squall nodded, and turned the other way to rest on his side.
"Okay."
Was the last word he said, before closing his eyes and allowing sleep to take over.
-------------------------------
omoi dashita
23/5/2001
http://cloud-is.ourfamily.com/
Other disclaimers:
'The Little Prince', by Antione De Saint-Exupery. Quoted for impact, respected for beauty. No profit is being or should be made out of it's little appearance in the above text.
By the way:
'I want to be your Canary' was written by Lord Avon, not Ipsen. XD As for why the change in this fic, well... you'll see why when we go further down the plot.