Kuja had indeed felt the presence approaching, knowing full well it was Zidane. Was that the curse he was forced to bear, being that they were cut from the same cloth? It was an absurd thought, that someone brimming with utter perfection in every sense of the word had the same... markup as someone like Zidane.

Out from behind one of the pillars, from the shadows, Kuja took a step into the light, a hand underneath his chin as he examined his guest. "Curious as ever I see. I'm disappointed you couldn't wait for an invitation. Dropping in unannounced isn't very good etiquette, I'm afraid. Though I can't expect that backwater lowlife thief to have taught you any better."