Chapter 09 - Crisis of Condor, Part 1
Fandom: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII (FFVII, Advent Children, Crisis Core, Before Crisis, Dirge of Cerberus)
Pairing: Established Zack/Aerith, Eventual Sephiroth/Cloud (Subject to possible additions)
Rating: Teen (Subject to change)
Warnings: Violence, Language, Pretty much what you'd expect from FFVII. (Subject to additions)
Genre: Time Travel, AU, Action/Adventure, Drama, Friendship, Romance.
Words: 14,220
Summary: At first it was about preventing tragedy. For Cloud it soon becomes a fight to protect new bonds, tread untrod paths and find happy endings. Second chances aren't always easy in a time where ghosts live and heroes are human.
Chapter 08 - Crisis of Celebration
Masterlist
Counter Crisis
by White Mage Koorii & Dragoon-Sama
Chapter 09 - Crisis of Condor
[ μ ] - εуλ 0002 (January 15th)
The sea glittered, stretching on into an effervescent horizon that seemed to promise that the weather would remain good for the rest of the day. High above the sun crested its arc, and, below, its reflection coalesced on incoming wave heads in a darting silvery burst. Troubled, Sephiroth frowned out over the open ocean, his back to the chaos of the landing troops which he ignored with ease. His silver hair whipped around him, caught in the mixing sea breeze and the tumult of helicopter rotors, while near his feet Viri attempted to capture the fluttering corner of his coat, or tugged gaily at Masamune's sheathed tip. The little black chocobo had grown larger, now reaching mid-calf to Sephiroth, and was beginning to get small black feathers at the edges of his wings rather than the soft, fluffy down.
He was also growing to be more of a handful, but Sephiroth had refused, since that day, to seek aid from the blond trooper. His frown deepened momentarily before smoothing away. (Cloud Strife....) Sephiroth had pulled the trooper's files almost immediately after the incident on December 17th. What he had found had been both disappointing and intriguing. Cloud Strife, was, for all intents and purposes, completely unremarkable. He was a boy from a small hamlet on the western continent called Nibelheim, a reactor town, of no real notice or worth. The only thing of note was that it was home to one of ShinRa's first reactors, and to a manor that belonged to ShinRa as well. There had been, otherwise, very little information. What, then, did that say about Cloud Strife himself?
All of fifteen years old, had enlisted when he was fourteen, had been shunted into the regular forces as a private, a grunt, and attempted, and failed, to make SOLDIER. No name, nothing special, of no interest to anyone. He was apparently a boy with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove if the reports his C.O. had given were anything to go by. It was baffling, and it irked Sephiroth that none of it added up, or fell into place.
How had this meager, uninteresting child transformed into the warrior who had met him blade for blade, even if only over a short span of time, a child who, when Sephiroth had been in his presence, had been silent and almost as detached from those around him as Sephiroth himself? This stranger who had brought about that strange buzzing awareness, and something so much stranger?
Sephiroth would have brushed it off as mere coincidence, a trick of a mind deprived of rest, and overtaken by stress and irritation at his own failings, perceived or otherwise, but he could not brush off the feeling of sameness. Unconsciously, Sephiroth rubbed his thumb and fingers together, the leather of his glove rasping slightly, and brought his hand up to his gaze. There was nothing different about himself, though he had noticed sometime after the encounter that the irritating mental noise had ceased, so the only explanation was that Cloud Strife was somehow special. Just like Sephiroth was. Not even Genesis and Angeal had been able to be that, no matter how Genesis had striven for it.
It had been that mental buzz that had driven Sephiroth in all of his interactions with the boy from the beginning. When first he had landed on Mideel it had been there, so strange and prevalent, like a thunder spell running over his very nerves. It was what had driven him to draw the boy away, out of Junon, and back to Midgar to avoid Hojo's presence. Alongside Sephiroth's own distaste for the miserable man, there had been a healthy dose of paranoia. At that time he had yet to pinpoint the cause, had yet to figure out where this mental, and perhaps, physiological reaction was coming from. Sephiroth had refused to let anyone find out before him on the off chance that it could be used against him. It was something that nagged at him still, and drove him to play a somewhat surreptitious guardian for the boy. He counted himself lucky that Zack took on the overt role. Sephiroth doubted even his paranoia and curiosity would have stood up otherwise. More likely he would have just killed the boy and been done with it.
Still, there was an urge, a drive to seek the blond out, to wrest the answers Sephiroth craved from him by any means necessary, by word, by hand, by blade point... The mental image of Strife sprawled out, Masamune's glittering blade pressing into his chest clouded his mind for a moment before Sephiroth shook the image away with a slight wave of his hand. His fingers clenched around Masamune's sheath until the leather of his glove creaked. Viri gave a warble behind him, and Sephiroth felt an eager tug on Masamune again. He ignored the little bird, and Viri was content to amuse himself.
The other part of himself, wanted nothing more to do with Cloud Strife. There had been a disturbing feeling that day, that moment, that Sephiroth had never experienced; a thrilling, terrible, feeling of true fear. He was not sure what had engendered the reaction, but it had been born, and he could not forget it. He had wished for a fleeting time afterward that Angeal were still alive so he could seek his counsel on the matter, and from that had been born a rage unlike any he had felt-a burning seething anger directed toward his deceased friend and Zack Fair. It had been a bitter anger that had wanted to destroy and rend until it could set everything back to rights, or leave everything in ashes. It had seemed only fair, but it had passed, leaving him feeling nothing more than confused and irritated with his own failings, his own inability to do anything, and a chocobo chick keening softly in distress from a hiding place.
Viri's excited wark drew Sephiroth from the morass of his thoughts, and he turned to watch the black chick dart off among the troops, swerving nimbly to avoid being kicked or stepped on. Through them, coming toward him, Sephiroth could see the familiar figure of Zack, trailed by a trooper with a SOLDIER sword. Zack saw him, and raised his hand in greeting. Sephiroth could hear his voice floating over the noise of men and machines as he called out to him, but did not give any other outward form of response. He merely waited, and watched as Viri barreled into the trooper's boots enthusiastically. The boy tried, and failed, to shoo him away.
“Zack,” Sephiroth greeted, as the pair came to a stop nearby.
“Hey, Sephiroth, it's been awhile. You been hiding in that library this whole time?” Zack teased jovially. Sephiroth blinked once and sent him a sidelong look.
“I have duties that take up my time,” he said simply. From beneath his lashes he observed the trooper who stood slightly behind Zack as if to use the First as a human shield. Outwardly, though, he acted as if Cloud didn't exist, and swept past Zack. He paused a few steps beyond the pair. “Viri.” The Chocobo looked up from his affectionate nibbling of Cloud's boots at the quiet, but firm command. With a warble that sounded a bit put upon the chocobo obediently trotted over to Sephiroth and began to follow him as he strode back along the helipad. After a moment Viri reached out and snagged a beak full of Sephiroth's trailing coat. Sephiroth stopped once more, and frowned over his shoulder at the young bird. “Viri,” he said, “Climb.” With a happy chirp, Viri jumped up, undersized wings fluttering and used his beak and claws to scale Sephiroth's coat until he was perched firmly on his shoulder.
“Well, I'll be,” Sephiroth heard Zack mutter. “I don't know if I'm more surprised about who taught who what....”
Sephiroth chose to ignore him and made his way to a case of narrow industrial stairs that lead down to a second platform off of the landing pad. It was here that everything was gathered, being further removed to lifts to be transferred down and loaded into the trucks that would take them to Fort Condor. The troops accompanying the mission were lined up and at attention. In his peripheral vision he could see a few heads turning, whether just to catch a glimpse of him or because of the chocobo perched proprietorially on his shoulder armor he didn't know. Both were as likely as the other, and neither particularly mattered to him.
Behind him he could hear the sound of footfalls as Zack and the trooper followed after him. Sephiroth strode past the front line of the troops and came to a stop, gazing out over them, though he didn't say a word. Zack halted a few feet away, and Sephiroth gave him a faint nod.
“Guess I'm taking care of things then?” Zack mused aloud. “I think I can manage that.” More quietly he added, “I hope.” As Zack turned to address the troops his phone began to ring. Zack took a moment to flash Sephiroth a sheepish grin. Sephiroth gazed back impassively as Zack pulled his phone out and flipped it open. “Hello? Lazard?” Zack listened face still wearing a bemused half smile, then, at last, said, “Yes, sir!” The phone closed with a harsh snap, and Zack turned toward Sephiroth. “Sephiroth, Lazard wants me to report to the Junon Branch Office. I've got another mission that takes priority. The president himself demanded I get moved onto this one since he couldn't get you reassigned...but uh....”
Sephiroth waited idly as Zack fumbled with whatever he wanted to impart, watched as he scratched the back of his neck, head bowed. When Zack spoke again he wasn't even addressing Sephiroth, but his quiet little shadow. “Bad news is, it's a sensitive mission, and Lazard specifically said that you have to stay here, Cloud.” His gaze bounced back over to Sephiroth, and Zack smiled wryly. “He has the clearance for this, but....” Sephiroth swept his gaze over the pair and nodded sharply.
“It isn't an issue,” Sephiroth said. “This mission is nothing but routine.”
Zack nodded in agreement, though there was still something off, something uneasy in his expression that set Sephiroth's hackles on edge. Zack reached out and clasped the trooper's shoulder in a tight grip. Sephiroth couldn't help but wonder what Zack knew. Was he hiding whatever secrets Cloud Strife had? Sephiroth narrowed his eyes slightly, gaze flicking between the two, before he drove it from his mind and prowled past them to address the men. Almost tauntingly, Zack's words followed after him, “You going to be okay, Cloud?”
Arranged before him were several lines of regular infantrymen, at the front of which were a number of 3rd Class SOLDIERs. They stood at stiff attention, eyes hidden behind the visors of their helmets, but attention quite obviously focused on him. Sephiroth swept his gaze over the assembled men, and let his hand rest lightly on Masamune's hilt. From the corner of one eye he watched as Zack's protégé moved down the lines with quick efficiency to position himself among the infantrymen at the back of the assembly.
“This will be a routine mission,” Sephiroth said. “We're here to provide an escort.” Speeches, inspirational or otherwise, had never been his forte. Genesis had been the kind to grandstand, the one with the dramatic flare, and Angeal had been able to engender adoration and loyalty without much effort-his words had never been fancy, but the genuine sincerity in them had still managed to convey, and capture, the men. It had never been a capability that Sephiroth had attempted to foster in himself. He had never cared enough for the position, nor the company to bother.
He could remember a time when Genesis had asked if he was scared of public speaking. No doubt, seeking a weakness in him. Sephiroth had merely informed him that he saw no point in it, and had endured a lecture from Angeal on the importance of morale, the belief in a superior officer, and how Sephiroth was someone that they looked up to-that he had the capability to move men to great efforts merely by his words. Sephiroth hadn't cared then, and he didn't care now. If he ever had need of the skill, Sephiroth had little doubt in his own capacity. He would do what was necessary as he saw fit.
There was a faint shift in weight on his shoulder guard, and Viri gave a quiet little warble. A second later the bird propelled himself off of Sephiroth's shoulder in a flutter of underdeveloped wings. He hit the ground hard, unable to keep his balance, but bounced back to his claws within a few seconds and scampered off between the legs of the men.
“The main objective is the safe delivery of ShinRa's technicians and technology to Fort Condor,” Sephiroth continued, content to ignore his pets antics. “Seek out your Captains for your assignments. SOLDIERs should divide themselves evenly among our transport.” Sephiroth swept his gaze over the men once more, pausing only when he noticed movement toward the back. A few seconds later Viri finished scrambling up one of the trooper's bodies and clambered to perch atop his helmet. Sephiroth had no doubts about who that particular trooper was, even hidden among his taller peers as he was. He withheld a sigh, and called, “Viri.” The chocobo warked at him, one claw sliding down the trooper's helmet before Viri readjusted his position. For a moment he considered just leaving the bird and hoping he'd stay in the boy's care this time, but Sephiroth knew it wouldn't last. He turned away dismissively. “Strife, bring the bird.”
Behind him there was an immediate bustle as the men broke ranks and went about preparing for their departure. Sephiroth strode toward the lift without looking back, though he did pause upon reaching it. A group of infantrymen were clustered on it, one of their number hovering over the controls. They waited, staring at him as if trying to decide whether or not they should go down or not. Sephiroth lifted his gaze skyward and ignored them, his fingers tightening momentarily around Masamune's hilt before he released it.
He could not say that he was pleased to keep company with the boy. Sephiroth was undeniably curious about him, he had been since that first meeting in Mideel. However, he was unable to shake the wariness that their final-until now-meeting had caused. The rush of feeling that had lanced through him had been staggering. The familiarity, possessiveness, the sense of belonging.... It had rattled him more than Sephiroth could ever care to admit, and yet drawn him just as much. He had wanted to flee at the same moment he'd wanted to reach out and sink into the pull. It had been a Siren's song, and it wasn't until he'd left them long behind that the crazed feeling had left him. He'd stayed as far from Cloud Strife as he could since then. It was cowardly, and Sephiroth hated it, but he had not been able to bring himself to go near the boy again.
Now, here he was forced back into close contact, and he could not deny it was perhaps a blessing in disguise. No matter how much he wished to avoid facing the oddity-one more among many-Sephiroth knew that the drive, the curiosity, and an almost obsessive want to know would not leave him. Cloud Strife might just have answers he'd been seeking for many a year, and now was his chance to try and discover what secrets the boy hid. He was not quite sure how he would manage it, but, for now, he would take the chance to approach the boy. Sephiroth could do nothing less than to try to satisfy his own thirst for knowledge.
"Sir.” The quiet word came from a few feet behind him, and Sephiroth glanced fleetingly over his shoulder at the boy.
With a slight nod of acknowledgment he said, “You will ride in the first vehicle to avoid further mishaps.” There as no time to go chasing after the chocobo, let alone deal with whatever chaos Viri managed to cause. Sephiroth pivoted on his heel and took the few short steps necessary to reach the edge where the lift had been. He jumped lightly off the edge, and landed among the surprised troopers with the barest rustle of leather. Without a word he held his left arm out, looked back over his shoulder, and waited.
Viri's head poked over the edge of the landing, and the little bird gave a chuckle of delight. The chocobo puffed out his down, spread his little wings and crouched. A moment later the he jumped off, tiny wings working as if he could fly, and reached out with his claws. He landed on Sephiroth's arm, nearly overbalancing, but caught himself with a few more flailing flaps of his tiny wings. Viri shuffled awkwardly up Sephiroth's arm to clamber onto his shoulder guard. Sephiroth took a moment to caress the chocobo's fluffy head in approval. Viri cooed, pleased.
Taking no notice of the men around him, Sephiroth strode off. The ebb and flow of troops moved unabated, always aware of him in their midst, though seemingly completely cut off from him. Sephiroth paid them no mind, ignoring them as if they weren't there at all. Viri, on the other had was alert and watched with interest, occasionally warking when someone shouted, as if imitating or replying.
When he reached the awaiting transport trucks, Sephiroth settled Masamune against the side of the first one in line then turned and leaned back against it. Idly he crossed his arms over his chest and watched the controlled military chaos as the men moved about the area. Many of them were transferring supplies to various areas to be shipped out to different missions currently in progress. Beyond them all, was the lift. He watched, out of vague curiosity as the Zack's protégé leapt off as he himself had done moments before. He landed as lightly as Sephiroth had, startling a couple of nearby troopers to start and one to drop the pack they'd been carrying. A Third bawled at the errant trooper, who scrambled to regain his things and fall back into position. The boy ignored the commotion, walking calmly through the commotion as it swirled around him.
No one stopped him, recognizing the disparity of the trooper uniform and the SOLDIER sword. Though there were many surreptitious looks, and the hiss of whispers as rumor spread among the men. A white coated woman was making no effort to hide her interest as the boy approached the truck Sephiroth was reclining against.
Viri warbled a greeting, seeming to be overjoyed at seeing someone he'd seen all of a minute ago. The boy hesitated a moment, standing there warily, before he released a faint puff of air and crouched down, one hand held out invitingly. Viri jumped happily down from his perch on Sephiroth's shoulder and trotted over before attempting to scramble up the limb as he nipped playfully at Cloud's helmet. The boy's faint smile was easy to see despite the downward incline of his head.
Sephiroth stood silent. For all appearances his gaze remained focused on the swarm of men as they moved a large piece of equipment to one of the trucks, a few white coated scientists fluttering around them. Beneath his apparently focused facade his mind, and attention, wandered. From under the cover of his lashes, he watched the infantryman and Viri. He wondered, did they have chocobos in Nibelheim, the blond's hometown? ShinRa did not actually employ the use of the birds unless necessary, as they had access to efficient and viable technology. He hadn't even ever seen one until a mission where one of the birds had crossed his path, seen him, and quickly dashed away. He had read about them before then, seen pictures of them, even, but that had been all.
Sephiroth was not the kind of man interested in other people's history, or in pursuing conversation with them at all. Cloud Strife, however, was a frustrating enigma the likes of which he could not leave be no matter how much he may have wanted to. He had spent too much of his life wondering about his differences to let a possible lead go now. It seemed, the best way to do that would be to approach the subject from its foundation. Sephiroth was certain Angeal would have been better at this.
“You do seem to be familiar with them,” Sephiroth ventured after a moment. “Are they common in your hometown?” It was infinitely interesting the way the boy froze at the simple question, and Sephiroth surreptitiously continued to watch him as he waited for a response.
If he could learn about this Nibelheim, about Cloud Strife's past, then perhaps he could uncover why the boy seemed to be like him, why Sephiroth felt as if they were the same, why he intrigued him, ensnared him, and called his attention. A brief pang of envy, and the sour note of loneliness hit him as he thought about it. Like Genesis and Angeal, Cloud and Zack had families, hometowns, a world all their own: a place that they belonged to. They had all left those places behind, intent on becoming heroes, most of them, on being someone. Sephiroth had that vaunted title, but it was something he found little use in. In the past it had been something to taunt Genesis with, now it was merely something to be viewed as useless, petty, and foolish. He was not sure if he qualified as a hero, when his closest comrades did not care to turn to him and instead betrayed him. A bitter anger settled into place, chasing away the momentary melancholy. It was a better way to feel about it, he thought. Better to be angry than to hurt over such foolishness. Better to forget. They were dead, and this was what Sephiroth had left, his title, his sword, and his own detached greatness.
A quieter, buried part of him noted that he would have gladly given it for the mere power to help Angeal and Genesis. For all his great power, he often seemed much more helpless.
It wasn't until Viri clambered onto the boy's back and scrambled up his shirt to hop back onto his helmet that the trooper finally moved again. The helmet was knocked forward at an odd angle, and he raised a hasty hand to steady it as Viri warbled triumphantly. With an efficient move the boy plucked the bird off his perch, and released Viri to once again dodge his grasp and attempt to scale back up. His distraction in trying to fend off the chocobo seemed to help him relax, and he answered slowly, never looking up, "They're not common, no. It's too cold…and most chocobos don't do well in the mountains. I….” The boy trailed off and paused, his hesitation clear. It could have been anything from creating a lie to the skittishness he displayed in Sephiroth's presence. “After I left home, I ran into someone who called themselves the Chocobo Sage. He…was difficult to talk to, but he knew everything about chocobos."
Sephiroth stared blankly at Cloud for several seconds before he repeated the words, “Chocobo...Sage?” Someone actually...? It seemed absolutely absurd that someone, anyone, would devote that much time and energy to the birds when it wasn't absolutely necessary, but Sephiroth supposed it was much like devoting oneself to their fighting art. He frowned slightly. “I see.”
He was bad at this, Sephiroth decided as he struggled for something more to say. It was a discomfiting situation to say the least, but there was no other way. All he'd gotten was an answer that provided the barest essentials of an answer. “Nibelheim is quite distant,” he said at last. “It must have been a difficult journey to make.” Particularly for a fourteen year old boy with barely anything to his name but the home he was leaving behind. Zack had done similarly, a year younger and with Gongaga nearly as distant, and Genesis and Angeal had come from Banora, near Mideel. It made Sephiroth wonder what it must be like to give up everything that was comfortable, and known, to move on so completely.
The reply came a little more quickly this time. "I wanted to be a SOLDIER more than anything. It was foolish." Sephiroth slanted a glance down at the admission in time to see the boy duck his head. He could only wonder why. Did he regret the admission? Perhaps he hadn't meant to do so, or perhaps he was worried that Sephiroth would take him to task for it. Perhaps he just hadn't wanted to let something so personal slip.
“Foolish? Perhaps,” Sephiroth said. He watched the boy, calculating how much he needed to say. While he would not bother to lie and pander to him just to get answers, Sephiroth was well aware that at times one must give something to get information in return. “Dreams...are meant to be a little foolish, I think.” In his mind he could just imagine the horror Angeal and Zack would express at anyone giving up any of their dreams. Sephiroth gave a low chuckle, lips turning upward just slightly at the memory of his friend and his constant mantra. “Angeal would say that's what makes them worth it.” But what did he think about dreams? Sephiroth was hardly an idealist. He could think of nothing he wanted so badly to call it a dream.
A loud curse caused the trooper to look up from where Viri was tugging at one of his gloves, as a box was placed heavily onto the truck behind the one Sephiroth was leaning against. The scientist was berating the troopers who'd placed it there, looking harassed and out of patience. The boy's head turned just enough that he seemed to be glancing at Sephiroth again before he looked down to try and wrest his glove free from Viri's beak. Quietly, his voice floated up, "Is it…normal for you to be sent on these missions?"
Sephiroth frowned faintly at the question. It was an odd one, and so completely unexpected. What use was that sort of information to this boy? “No. Normally my power is reserved for when it's needed. With anti-ShinRa groups so active,” and interested in both SOLDIER and ShinRa's mako technology, “it should come as no surprise that I should be deployed in problem areas.” And Junon had already been of interest due to the Mako Cannon.
The trooper's helmeted head tilted up, and for the first time he seemed to really be looking at him. Sephiroth made no movement to indicate he noticed. The stare remained, oddly weighty, and with it came an unfamiliar feeling. It was as if he were being weighed and judged. Sephiroth could remember very few times in his life that he'd come up against such a stare, against someone who would give him such a treatment. The first was Hojo, unsurprisingly, followed by President Shinra himself-their blatant interest was no surprise. To them he was a quantity that must be measured. Genesis was another, always checking and challenging his worth. The last had been the girl leader of AVALANCHE with her pointed question and strange strength. Now, there was this boy with his damning stare. Sephiroth did not think he'd ever found himself feeling as subhuman as he did right then.
The boy looked away sharply, and Sephiroth was left feeling as if he'd been found wanting-another unfamiliar feeling. He was not used to feeling as if he were something pitiable and pathetic. He didn't know which he preferred: the condemnation or the pity. Neither sat right with him.
"I wonder what would happen if you refused.” The words were faint, a barely there mumble that Sephiroth suspected wasn't really directed at him at all.
Sephiroth gave a faint, thoughtful sound and lifted his head. His silvery bangs brushed against his jawline as he contemplated the sky. After a moment he stepped away from the truck, fingers catching on Masamune as he pulled the sword with him, and focused on the quick approach of a pair of red scarfed officers. Though he didn't look to Zack's protégé, he did respond to his quiet words, “I have refused.”
Zack had paid for his weakness in his stead when Sephiroth refused to pursue Genesis and Angeal, to have to face them in true battle, to face the choice of killing them as he was bid. He'd let Zack face that choice for him, with a cold hope in his heart that Zack would be able to talk them into returning, because if anyone could, it would be Zack Fair.
He hadn't.
Sephiroth had resented him for it, but he hated himself for it more.
With a thump of boots the pair came to a halt before him, immediately at attention. “General, sir!” one barked, snapping off a quick salute. Sephiroth inclined his head in acknowledgment and he reported, “We're ready to depart, sir!”
“Get the men situated and we'll leave immediately,” Sephiroth said smoothly and turned on his heel to stride the few paces to the back of the truck. In short order a group of Thirds and two troopers had joined them, clearly deciding that Cloud Strife counted among their numbers. Sephiroth let them board first before turning to do so himself, he paused to turn his gaze back to the boy. “I merely saw no reason to refuse this.” Even if it was farcical and probably would not require his attention, it certainly got him away from Midgar, and if things went well there would be some monsters roaming close enough to require destruction.
His eyes flickered down to the chocobo chick still happily occupying himself with Cloud's presence. “Viri,” he called. The chick's head immediately swiveled around to him. “Climb.”
The chick immediately scrambled over eagerly, and scaled Sephiroth's coat in a matter of moments before, after a chirp, he jumped into the bed of the truck. Sephiroth followed, stepping up lightly into the vehicle, and scanning the group of men already occupying the benches that lined either side of their transport. He situated himself on the near end of the right bench, preferring to stay close to the open back end of the truck. It was both a strategically sound position, in that it allowed him a view of what was going on behind them, and it kept the vague feeling of claustrophobia such accommodations often left him with at bay. He was caged enough by the thin leash that tethered him to the metal monstrosity that was Midgar and ShinRa's power base without adding to the sensation.
Genesis and Angeal had slipped their leads, left him behind, and gone off together. Sephiroth had been left with nothing but the bitter taste of betrayal and the sour accompaniment of loneliness. If they had asked him, he might have left ShinRa too, he thought, the only thing that kept him tied down was the fact that there was nothing else out there for him. This was everything he had ever known.
Silently, Sephiroth settled Masamune into a position where the sword was both out of the way, and within easy reach should he need it. There was a metallic thump as the last of their group, Cloud Strife himself, stepped up into the vehicle. He took the only seat left, directly across from Sephiroth, without complaint. The Third next to Sephiroth had managed an impressive amount of space between them considering their cramped conditions. There was an almost palpable air of tension among the men, though Sephiroth paid it very little heed. He had no doubt that the men were uncomfortable in his presence.
As the vehicle rumbled to life the trooper looked down where he met Viri's beady black gaze as the small chocobo perched upon his boot. The chick let out a plaintive warble. There was little to no room, but the boy obligingly dangled a gloved hand down, playing a tame game of tug-of-war. He kept his head down, gaze focused on the bird.
Sephiroth's gaze drifted away and upward to take in Junon's buildings as they passed. Angeal was more suited for these sorts of missions, he couldn't help but think. Angeal who, out of the three of them, had been best suited for dealing with people on an even level. Genesis, while certainly more extroverted than himself, and something of an accomplished leader and SOLDIER, would have viewed such a menial chore as beneath himself. Angeal had always thrived on the simple things, had enjoyed plants and cooking, and generally been an easy going man. It was often times hard to believe that Angeal and Genesis could be successful friends from early childhood, and yet he'd seen proof of it, been accepted by the both of them to some degree. The thought brought with it a great deal of pain and bitterness that Sephiroth didn't want to examine.
He directed his thoughts elsewhere, filling his mind with the current mission. It was simple, routine, nothing interesting, boring. There really wasn't even a need for him beyond pure intimidation factor. Even the threat of possible monster attacks could have been dealt with by a Second in this area. The only plausible reason for him to be here was AVALANCHE, and even then the Turks had managed to deal with them thus far bar a few minor difficulties.
Sephiroth played his fingers over Masamune's sheath, his glove scraping against the casing softly. If he was lucky there would be something to put his blade against, perhaps even something strong enough to be worth his attention for a span. The thought brought his gaze drifting slowly toward the trooper sitting across from him, and Sephiroth gave a slow blink of contemplation. Certainly, the boy had displayed a level of skill in Mideel, but the question was whether or not that skill had been real, or a fluke. How much had he grown under Zack's tutelage as compared to what he already had? Sephiroth tapped a finger against Masamune in thought. It would be impossible to tell given the span of time since they'd last crossed blades, but Sephiroth could admit he was curious to see if he were truly able to keep up with him as he had in Mideel. The fight had lasted such an insubstantial amount of time before Zack had intervened.
(Just like Angeal.) Zack's intervention had been so similar, and the snapping of one of the longswords he'd wielded at the time.... It had been so much like that fight with Genesis, and Sephiroth had simply reacted, snaked Masamune out, and flicked the broken half of the sword aside far enough that it wouldn't hit any of them. Perhaps it had been residual guilt over being unable to help Genesis. His grip tightened on Masamune for a moment, annoyed with the turn his thoughts had taken. There was no reason for a sense of guilt over the incident. They had chosen their path.
"Viri is growing up well.” The quiet voice broke through the silence sharply, and Sephiroth slanted a look toward the boy. He could not help but feel bewildered that he was willingly speaking to him. All of his observations thus far had shown that Strife was rather devoted to staying away from him. Still, there was a set to the boy's jaw that spoke of determination, though Sephiroth could not fathom his reasoning. After a moment Strife added, "It's not usual for a chick to be able to follow orders at such a young age."
Sephiroth glanced down at the chick who was now bracing both of his claws against the trooper's boot for more leverage. For a moment he considered ignoring the comment, but supposed that if he were to gain further information it would be for the best to at least make an attempt. “I returned to the Chocobo Ranch for more information, though what they offered was inadequate. After observing him for some time I recalled how Angeal managed Zack. Zack's problems with focus are similar to Viri's attention span.” By making things fun, as much as Sephiroth tried not to think of it that way, and playing to the bird's, or in Angeal's case, Zack's, innate nature they seemed to react far better than trying to force them into doing something they weren't interested in. “It appears to be working.” Which said something about Angeal's ability as a teacher. Or possibly just the quick nature of the individual, he wasn't sure.
The climb command had been the most necessary, so as to keep Viri out from under his boots during battle, though there would be an issue with changing the workings of the command when the chocobo got older. He'd also have to teach him to stay out of the way again, but he would overcome that obstacle when it presented itself. For now he had to work with the attention span the chick presented him with. Just like Angeal had had to work with Zack's poor focus when he'd first become the mentor of the young SOLDIER. Sephiroth sighed faintly through his nose, attention drifting to the side again. He had no idea where Angeal had come by his patience.
The boy studied Viri for a long moment then gave a faint chuckle. Sephiroth couldn't help but send a shuttered glance toward him, feeling bemused. It wasn't often that someone treated him without deference. Even President Shinra offered him a certain amount of deferential treatment due to Sephiroth's advantageous position. Most certainly the troops and other SOLDIERs didn't bother to treat him as anything but the shining Hero and General he was supposed to be. There were only a few people that treated him as little more than another human being, and that was Angeal, Genesis, and Zack.
Genesis had often treated him as an obstacle to overcome, but that was part of their...friendship...and Sephiroth had never minded. It was refreshing, having someone who wanted to test their skill against him, though he'd never found true challenge in Genesis' endeavor. Angeal, though...Angeal hadn't wanted anything from him except for camaraderie and friendship, had not asked anything of him. Nor did Zack, the little amount of time they spent in each other's company. They were brought together more through the circumstances of knowing Angeal than anything else, but it was still Zack's persistence, his drive to call Sephiroth friend, that made them something similar. He was much like Angeal.
He wasn't sure how to classify Cloud Strife, who was nothing like the other three. He did not pursue Sephiroth's favor for friendship, or even gain like most would in his position, nor did he seem intent on challenging him as Genesis had. Sephiroth didn't know what to do with him, truth be told.
Movement caught his attention, and he turned to watch the boy in question scoop Viri up and into his lap, freeing his hand before using it to cover the chocobo's eyes. Viri warbled in confusion, perched stiffly where he'd been dropped, clearly unsure what to do at his sudden loss of both his playmate and his sight. He tried to shake the hand off, but the trooper patiently kept his grip, and soon enough Viri settled down, tucking his legs underneath him. Within a few minutes, the chick appeared to fall asleep. The ease and experience with which he handled the bird belied his tale about gaining theoretical knowledge. If there was anything Sephiroth had learned through his years of swordsmanship, years of being around weaponry and the army, it was that practical knowledge was begot only through experience. He doubted handling chocobos, or any animal, was any different. It certainly was proving so for him.
His attention drifted away once more to focus on the skyline. The plumes of thick, curling dust kicked up by their little caravan made intriguing shapes against the vault of the sky. Sephiroth let his mind wander idly-through thoughts of sword moves, stances, and different attack sequences, and through ways to deal with certain monster types, and situations. Eventually, his mind came back to the Mideel mission, to how Cloud had come at him with Angeal's-Zack's-sword.
He wanted to test that skill, he realized sharply. He wanted to see if the spark of challenge that had been there could live up to itself. It wasn't something he'd felt since Genesis had first come at him with his challenge. He'd outstripped Genesis, and even when working with Angeal the pair couldn't defeat him. It wouldn't hurt to test Cloud Strife's sword-skill, and a part of him missed those little sessions with his deceased friends though he did not acknowledge the fact. Slowly, he turned his attention back to Cloud and took him in, considering. The only question was, how would he go about putting forth the challenge? It had always been Genesis who had approached him, and there was no Training Room out here to invite the boy into, much as he'd slipped away while the Seconds and Thirds were away and spent the afternoon with Angeal and Genesis.
He let his mind wander in silent contemplation. His gaze wandered with his thoughts straying toward the trucks behind them, but more often remaining focused on the sky. The hours passed in silence, terrain passing; mountainsides passing by in the distance with the darker clots of forests spotty against their slopes, and eventually the day slipped away in the dusty passing of travel. The distance between Junon and Fort Condor, while not insurmountable was certainly less while in flight. Going by land was longer, but simpler. Perhaps they'd thought to test and see if it was bait enough to lure AVALANCHE out. It mattered little in the end, and Sephiroth settled back to watch as twilight faded into night, and stars spangled the sky. The men in the vehicle dozed restlessly, and Viri settled even deeper into sleep with the passing of the sun. The vehicles following them were visible only by the glow of their headlights. His hand lightly gripped Masamune, and though he didn't let himself drift he did allow himself to relax slightly, hooded eyes trained on the unconcealed sky.
Part 2
Pairing: Established Zack/Aerith, Eventual Sephiroth/Cloud (Subject to possible additions)
Rating: Teen (Subject to change)
Warnings: Violence, Language, Pretty much what you'd expect from FFVII. (Subject to additions)
Genre: Time Travel, AU, Action/Adventure, Drama, Friendship, Romance.
Words: 14,220
Summary: At first it was about preventing tragedy. For Cloud it soon becomes a fight to protect new bonds, tread untrod paths and find happy endings. Second chances aren't always easy in a time where ghosts live and heroes are human.
Chapter 08 - Crisis of Celebration
Masterlist
Counter Crisis
by White Mage Koorii & Dragoon-Sama
Chapter 09 - Crisis of Condor
[ μ ] - εуλ 0002 (January 15th)
The sea glittered, stretching on into an effervescent horizon that seemed to promise that the weather would remain good for the rest of the day. High above the sun crested its arc, and, below, its reflection coalesced on incoming wave heads in a darting silvery burst. Troubled, Sephiroth frowned out over the open ocean, his back to the chaos of the landing troops which he ignored with ease. His silver hair whipped around him, caught in the mixing sea breeze and the tumult of helicopter rotors, while near his feet Viri attempted to capture the fluttering corner of his coat, or tugged gaily at Masamune's sheathed tip. The little black chocobo had grown larger, now reaching mid-calf to Sephiroth, and was beginning to get small black feathers at the edges of his wings rather than the soft, fluffy down.
He was also growing to be more of a handful, but Sephiroth had refused, since that day, to seek aid from the blond trooper. His frown deepened momentarily before smoothing away. (Cloud Strife....) Sephiroth had pulled the trooper's files almost immediately after the incident on December 17th. What he had found had been both disappointing and intriguing. Cloud Strife, was, for all intents and purposes, completely unremarkable. He was a boy from a small hamlet on the western continent called Nibelheim, a reactor town, of no real notice or worth. The only thing of note was that it was home to one of ShinRa's first reactors, and to a manor that belonged to ShinRa as well. There had been, otherwise, very little information. What, then, did that say about Cloud Strife himself?
All of fifteen years old, had enlisted when he was fourteen, had been shunted into the regular forces as a private, a grunt, and attempted, and failed, to make SOLDIER. No name, nothing special, of no interest to anyone. He was apparently a boy with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove if the reports his C.O. had given were anything to go by. It was baffling, and it irked Sephiroth that none of it added up, or fell into place.
How had this meager, uninteresting child transformed into the warrior who had met him blade for blade, even if only over a short span of time, a child who, when Sephiroth had been in his presence, had been silent and almost as detached from those around him as Sephiroth himself? This stranger who had brought about that strange buzzing awareness, and something so much stranger?
Sephiroth would have brushed it off as mere coincidence, a trick of a mind deprived of rest, and overtaken by stress and irritation at his own failings, perceived or otherwise, but he could not brush off the feeling of sameness. Unconsciously, Sephiroth rubbed his thumb and fingers together, the leather of his glove rasping slightly, and brought his hand up to his gaze. There was nothing different about himself, though he had noticed sometime after the encounter that the irritating mental noise had ceased, so the only explanation was that Cloud Strife was somehow special. Just like Sephiroth was. Not even Genesis and Angeal had been able to be that, no matter how Genesis had striven for it.
It had been that mental buzz that had driven Sephiroth in all of his interactions with the boy from the beginning. When first he had landed on Mideel it had been there, so strange and prevalent, like a thunder spell running over his very nerves. It was what had driven him to draw the boy away, out of Junon, and back to Midgar to avoid Hojo's presence. Alongside Sephiroth's own distaste for the miserable man, there had been a healthy dose of paranoia. At that time he had yet to pinpoint the cause, had yet to figure out where this mental, and perhaps, physiological reaction was coming from. Sephiroth had refused to let anyone find out before him on the off chance that it could be used against him. It was something that nagged at him still, and drove him to play a somewhat surreptitious guardian for the boy. He counted himself lucky that Zack took on the overt role. Sephiroth doubted even his paranoia and curiosity would have stood up otherwise. More likely he would have just killed the boy and been done with it.
Still, there was an urge, a drive to seek the blond out, to wrest the answers Sephiroth craved from him by any means necessary, by word, by hand, by blade point... The mental image of Strife sprawled out, Masamune's glittering blade pressing into his chest clouded his mind for a moment before Sephiroth shook the image away with a slight wave of his hand. His fingers clenched around Masamune's sheath until the leather of his glove creaked. Viri gave a warble behind him, and Sephiroth felt an eager tug on Masamune again. He ignored the little bird, and Viri was content to amuse himself.
The other part of himself, wanted nothing more to do with Cloud Strife. There had been a disturbing feeling that day, that moment, that Sephiroth had never experienced; a thrilling, terrible, feeling of true fear. He was not sure what had engendered the reaction, but it had been born, and he could not forget it. He had wished for a fleeting time afterward that Angeal were still alive so he could seek his counsel on the matter, and from that had been born a rage unlike any he had felt-a burning seething anger directed toward his deceased friend and Zack Fair. It had been a bitter anger that had wanted to destroy and rend until it could set everything back to rights, or leave everything in ashes. It had seemed only fair, but it had passed, leaving him feeling nothing more than confused and irritated with his own failings, his own inability to do anything, and a chocobo chick keening softly in distress from a hiding place.
Viri's excited wark drew Sephiroth from the morass of his thoughts, and he turned to watch the black chick dart off among the troops, swerving nimbly to avoid being kicked or stepped on. Through them, coming toward him, Sephiroth could see the familiar figure of Zack, trailed by a trooper with a SOLDIER sword. Zack saw him, and raised his hand in greeting. Sephiroth could hear his voice floating over the noise of men and machines as he called out to him, but did not give any other outward form of response. He merely waited, and watched as Viri barreled into the trooper's boots enthusiastically. The boy tried, and failed, to shoo him away.
“Zack,” Sephiroth greeted, as the pair came to a stop nearby.
“Hey, Sephiroth, it's been awhile. You been hiding in that library this whole time?” Zack teased jovially. Sephiroth blinked once and sent him a sidelong look.
“I have duties that take up my time,” he said simply. From beneath his lashes he observed the trooper who stood slightly behind Zack as if to use the First as a human shield. Outwardly, though, he acted as if Cloud didn't exist, and swept past Zack. He paused a few steps beyond the pair. “Viri.” The Chocobo looked up from his affectionate nibbling of Cloud's boots at the quiet, but firm command. With a warble that sounded a bit put upon the chocobo obediently trotted over to Sephiroth and began to follow him as he strode back along the helipad. After a moment Viri reached out and snagged a beak full of Sephiroth's trailing coat. Sephiroth stopped once more, and frowned over his shoulder at the young bird. “Viri,” he said, “Climb.” With a happy chirp, Viri jumped up, undersized wings fluttering and used his beak and claws to scale Sephiroth's coat until he was perched firmly on his shoulder.
“Well, I'll be,” Sephiroth heard Zack mutter. “I don't know if I'm more surprised about who taught who what....”
Sephiroth chose to ignore him and made his way to a case of narrow industrial stairs that lead down to a second platform off of the landing pad. It was here that everything was gathered, being further removed to lifts to be transferred down and loaded into the trucks that would take them to Fort Condor. The troops accompanying the mission were lined up and at attention. In his peripheral vision he could see a few heads turning, whether just to catch a glimpse of him or because of the chocobo perched proprietorially on his shoulder armor he didn't know. Both were as likely as the other, and neither particularly mattered to him.
Behind him he could hear the sound of footfalls as Zack and the trooper followed after him. Sephiroth strode past the front line of the troops and came to a stop, gazing out over them, though he didn't say a word. Zack halted a few feet away, and Sephiroth gave him a faint nod.
“Guess I'm taking care of things then?” Zack mused aloud. “I think I can manage that.” More quietly he added, “I hope.” As Zack turned to address the troops his phone began to ring. Zack took a moment to flash Sephiroth a sheepish grin. Sephiroth gazed back impassively as Zack pulled his phone out and flipped it open. “Hello? Lazard?” Zack listened face still wearing a bemused half smile, then, at last, said, “Yes, sir!” The phone closed with a harsh snap, and Zack turned toward Sephiroth. “Sephiroth, Lazard wants me to report to the Junon Branch Office. I've got another mission that takes priority. The president himself demanded I get moved onto this one since he couldn't get you reassigned...but uh....”
Sephiroth waited idly as Zack fumbled with whatever he wanted to impart, watched as he scratched the back of his neck, head bowed. When Zack spoke again he wasn't even addressing Sephiroth, but his quiet little shadow. “Bad news is, it's a sensitive mission, and Lazard specifically said that you have to stay here, Cloud.” His gaze bounced back over to Sephiroth, and Zack smiled wryly. “He has the clearance for this, but....” Sephiroth swept his gaze over the pair and nodded sharply.
“It isn't an issue,” Sephiroth said. “This mission is nothing but routine.”
Zack nodded in agreement, though there was still something off, something uneasy in his expression that set Sephiroth's hackles on edge. Zack reached out and clasped the trooper's shoulder in a tight grip. Sephiroth couldn't help but wonder what Zack knew. Was he hiding whatever secrets Cloud Strife had? Sephiroth narrowed his eyes slightly, gaze flicking between the two, before he drove it from his mind and prowled past them to address the men. Almost tauntingly, Zack's words followed after him, “You going to be okay, Cloud?”
Arranged before him were several lines of regular infantrymen, at the front of which were a number of 3rd Class SOLDIERs. They stood at stiff attention, eyes hidden behind the visors of their helmets, but attention quite obviously focused on him. Sephiroth swept his gaze over the assembled men, and let his hand rest lightly on Masamune's hilt. From the corner of one eye he watched as Zack's protégé moved down the lines with quick efficiency to position himself among the infantrymen at the back of the assembly.
“This will be a routine mission,” Sephiroth said. “We're here to provide an escort.” Speeches, inspirational or otherwise, had never been his forte. Genesis had been the kind to grandstand, the one with the dramatic flare, and Angeal had been able to engender adoration and loyalty without much effort-his words had never been fancy, but the genuine sincerity in them had still managed to convey, and capture, the men. It had never been a capability that Sephiroth had attempted to foster in himself. He had never cared enough for the position, nor the company to bother.
He could remember a time when Genesis had asked if he was scared of public speaking. No doubt, seeking a weakness in him. Sephiroth had merely informed him that he saw no point in it, and had endured a lecture from Angeal on the importance of morale, the belief in a superior officer, and how Sephiroth was someone that they looked up to-that he had the capability to move men to great efforts merely by his words. Sephiroth hadn't cared then, and he didn't care now. If he ever had need of the skill, Sephiroth had little doubt in his own capacity. He would do what was necessary as he saw fit.
There was a faint shift in weight on his shoulder guard, and Viri gave a quiet little warble. A second later the bird propelled himself off of Sephiroth's shoulder in a flutter of underdeveloped wings. He hit the ground hard, unable to keep his balance, but bounced back to his claws within a few seconds and scampered off between the legs of the men.
“The main objective is the safe delivery of ShinRa's technicians and technology to Fort Condor,” Sephiroth continued, content to ignore his pets antics. “Seek out your Captains for your assignments. SOLDIERs should divide themselves evenly among our transport.” Sephiroth swept his gaze over the men once more, pausing only when he noticed movement toward the back. A few seconds later Viri finished scrambling up one of the trooper's bodies and clambered to perch atop his helmet. Sephiroth had no doubts about who that particular trooper was, even hidden among his taller peers as he was. He withheld a sigh, and called, “Viri.” The chocobo warked at him, one claw sliding down the trooper's helmet before Viri readjusted his position. For a moment he considered just leaving the bird and hoping he'd stay in the boy's care this time, but Sephiroth knew it wouldn't last. He turned away dismissively. “Strife, bring the bird.”
Behind him there was an immediate bustle as the men broke ranks and went about preparing for their departure. Sephiroth strode toward the lift without looking back, though he did pause upon reaching it. A group of infantrymen were clustered on it, one of their number hovering over the controls. They waited, staring at him as if trying to decide whether or not they should go down or not. Sephiroth lifted his gaze skyward and ignored them, his fingers tightening momentarily around Masamune's hilt before he released it.
He could not say that he was pleased to keep company with the boy. Sephiroth was undeniably curious about him, he had been since that first meeting in Mideel. However, he was unable to shake the wariness that their final-until now-meeting had caused. The rush of feeling that had lanced through him had been staggering. The familiarity, possessiveness, the sense of belonging.... It had rattled him more than Sephiroth could ever care to admit, and yet drawn him just as much. He had wanted to flee at the same moment he'd wanted to reach out and sink into the pull. It had been a Siren's song, and it wasn't until he'd left them long behind that the crazed feeling had left him. He'd stayed as far from Cloud Strife as he could since then. It was cowardly, and Sephiroth hated it, but he had not been able to bring himself to go near the boy again.
Now, here he was forced back into close contact, and he could not deny it was perhaps a blessing in disguise. No matter how much he wished to avoid facing the oddity-one more among many-Sephiroth knew that the drive, the curiosity, and an almost obsessive want to know would not leave him. Cloud Strife might just have answers he'd been seeking for many a year, and now was his chance to try and discover what secrets the boy hid. He was not quite sure how he would manage it, but, for now, he would take the chance to approach the boy. Sephiroth could do nothing less than to try to satisfy his own thirst for knowledge.
"Sir.” The quiet word came from a few feet behind him, and Sephiroth glanced fleetingly over his shoulder at the boy.
With a slight nod of acknowledgment he said, “You will ride in the first vehicle to avoid further mishaps.” There as no time to go chasing after the chocobo, let alone deal with whatever chaos Viri managed to cause. Sephiroth pivoted on his heel and took the few short steps necessary to reach the edge where the lift had been. He jumped lightly off the edge, and landed among the surprised troopers with the barest rustle of leather. Without a word he held his left arm out, looked back over his shoulder, and waited.
Viri's head poked over the edge of the landing, and the little bird gave a chuckle of delight. The chocobo puffed out his down, spread his little wings and crouched. A moment later the he jumped off, tiny wings working as if he could fly, and reached out with his claws. He landed on Sephiroth's arm, nearly overbalancing, but caught himself with a few more flailing flaps of his tiny wings. Viri shuffled awkwardly up Sephiroth's arm to clamber onto his shoulder guard. Sephiroth took a moment to caress the chocobo's fluffy head in approval. Viri cooed, pleased.
Taking no notice of the men around him, Sephiroth strode off. The ebb and flow of troops moved unabated, always aware of him in their midst, though seemingly completely cut off from him. Sephiroth paid them no mind, ignoring them as if they weren't there at all. Viri, on the other had was alert and watched with interest, occasionally warking when someone shouted, as if imitating or replying.
When he reached the awaiting transport trucks, Sephiroth settled Masamune against the side of the first one in line then turned and leaned back against it. Idly he crossed his arms over his chest and watched the controlled military chaos as the men moved about the area. Many of them were transferring supplies to various areas to be shipped out to different missions currently in progress. Beyond them all, was the lift. He watched, out of vague curiosity as the Zack's protégé leapt off as he himself had done moments before. He landed as lightly as Sephiroth had, startling a couple of nearby troopers to start and one to drop the pack they'd been carrying. A Third bawled at the errant trooper, who scrambled to regain his things and fall back into position. The boy ignored the commotion, walking calmly through the commotion as it swirled around him.
No one stopped him, recognizing the disparity of the trooper uniform and the SOLDIER sword. Though there were many surreptitious looks, and the hiss of whispers as rumor spread among the men. A white coated woman was making no effort to hide her interest as the boy approached the truck Sephiroth was reclining against.
Viri warbled a greeting, seeming to be overjoyed at seeing someone he'd seen all of a minute ago. The boy hesitated a moment, standing there warily, before he released a faint puff of air and crouched down, one hand held out invitingly. Viri jumped happily down from his perch on Sephiroth's shoulder and trotted over before attempting to scramble up the limb as he nipped playfully at Cloud's helmet. The boy's faint smile was easy to see despite the downward incline of his head.
Sephiroth stood silent. For all appearances his gaze remained focused on the swarm of men as they moved a large piece of equipment to one of the trucks, a few white coated scientists fluttering around them. Beneath his apparently focused facade his mind, and attention, wandered. From under the cover of his lashes, he watched the infantryman and Viri. He wondered, did they have chocobos in Nibelheim, the blond's hometown? ShinRa did not actually employ the use of the birds unless necessary, as they had access to efficient and viable technology. He hadn't even ever seen one until a mission where one of the birds had crossed his path, seen him, and quickly dashed away. He had read about them before then, seen pictures of them, even, but that had been all.
Sephiroth was not the kind of man interested in other people's history, or in pursuing conversation with them at all. Cloud Strife, however, was a frustrating enigma the likes of which he could not leave be no matter how much he may have wanted to. He had spent too much of his life wondering about his differences to let a possible lead go now. It seemed, the best way to do that would be to approach the subject from its foundation. Sephiroth was certain Angeal would have been better at this.
“You do seem to be familiar with them,” Sephiroth ventured after a moment. “Are they common in your hometown?” It was infinitely interesting the way the boy froze at the simple question, and Sephiroth surreptitiously continued to watch him as he waited for a response.
If he could learn about this Nibelheim, about Cloud Strife's past, then perhaps he could uncover why the boy seemed to be like him, why Sephiroth felt as if they were the same, why he intrigued him, ensnared him, and called his attention. A brief pang of envy, and the sour note of loneliness hit him as he thought about it. Like Genesis and Angeal, Cloud and Zack had families, hometowns, a world all their own: a place that they belonged to. They had all left those places behind, intent on becoming heroes, most of them, on being someone. Sephiroth had that vaunted title, but it was something he found little use in. In the past it had been something to taunt Genesis with, now it was merely something to be viewed as useless, petty, and foolish. He was not sure if he qualified as a hero, when his closest comrades did not care to turn to him and instead betrayed him. A bitter anger settled into place, chasing away the momentary melancholy. It was a better way to feel about it, he thought. Better to be angry than to hurt over such foolishness. Better to forget. They were dead, and this was what Sephiroth had left, his title, his sword, and his own detached greatness.
A quieter, buried part of him noted that he would have gladly given it for the mere power to help Angeal and Genesis. For all his great power, he often seemed much more helpless.
It wasn't until Viri clambered onto the boy's back and scrambled up his shirt to hop back onto his helmet that the trooper finally moved again. The helmet was knocked forward at an odd angle, and he raised a hasty hand to steady it as Viri warbled triumphantly. With an efficient move the boy plucked the bird off his perch, and released Viri to once again dodge his grasp and attempt to scale back up. His distraction in trying to fend off the chocobo seemed to help him relax, and he answered slowly, never looking up, "They're not common, no. It's too cold…and most chocobos don't do well in the mountains. I….” The boy trailed off and paused, his hesitation clear. It could have been anything from creating a lie to the skittishness he displayed in Sephiroth's presence. “After I left home, I ran into someone who called themselves the Chocobo Sage. He…was difficult to talk to, but he knew everything about chocobos."
Sephiroth stared blankly at Cloud for several seconds before he repeated the words, “Chocobo...Sage?” Someone actually...? It seemed absolutely absurd that someone, anyone, would devote that much time and energy to the birds when it wasn't absolutely necessary, but Sephiroth supposed it was much like devoting oneself to their fighting art. He frowned slightly. “I see.”
He was bad at this, Sephiroth decided as he struggled for something more to say. It was a discomfiting situation to say the least, but there was no other way. All he'd gotten was an answer that provided the barest essentials of an answer. “Nibelheim is quite distant,” he said at last. “It must have been a difficult journey to make.” Particularly for a fourteen year old boy with barely anything to his name but the home he was leaving behind. Zack had done similarly, a year younger and with Gongaga nearly as distant, and Genesis and Angeal had come from Banora, near Mideel. It made Sephiroth wonder what it must be like to give up everything that was comfortable, and known, to move on so completely.
The reply came a little more quickly this time. "I wanted to be a SOLDIER more than anything. It was foolish." Sephiroth slanted a glance down at the admission in time to see the boy duck his head. He could only wonder why. Did he regret the admission? Perhaps he hadn't meant to do so, or perhaps he was worried that Sephiroth would take him to task for it. Perhaps he just hadn't wanted to let something so personal slip.
“Foolish? Perhaps,” Sephiroth said. He watched the boy, calculating how much he needed to say. While he would not bother to lie and pander to him just to get answers, Sephiroth was well aware that at times one must give something to get information in return. “Dreams...are meant to be a little foolish, I think.” In his mind he could just imagine the horror Angeal and Zack would express at anyone giving up any of their dreams. Sephiroth gave a low chuckle, lips turning upward just slightly at the memory of his friend and his constant mantra. “Angeal would say that's what makes them worth it.” But what did he think about dreams? Sephiroth was hardly an idealist. He could think of nothing he wanted so badly to call it a dream.
A loud curse caused the trooper to look up from where Viri was tugging at one of his gloves, as a box was placed heavily onto the truck behind the one Sephiroth was leaning against. The scientist was berating the troopers who'd placed it there, looking harassed and out of patience. The boy's head turned just enough that he seemed to be glancing at Sephiroth again before he looked down to try and wrest his glove free from Viri's beak. Quietly, his voice floated up, "Is it…normal for you to be sent on these missions?"
Sephiroth frowned faintly at the question. It was an odd one, and so completely unexpected. What use was that sort of information to this boy? “No. Normally my power is reserved for when it's needed. With anti-ShinRa groups so active,” and interested in both SOLDIER and ShinRa's mako technology, “it should come as no surprise that I should be deployed in problem areas.” And Junon had already been of interest due to the Mako Cannon.
The trooper's helmeted head tilted up, and for the first time he seemed to really be looking at him. Sephiroth made no movement to indicate he noticed. The stare remained, oddly weighty, and with it came an unfamiliar feeling. It was as if he were being weighed and judged. Sephiroth could remember very few times in his life that he'd come up against such a stare, against someone who would give him such a treatment. The first was Hojo, unsurprisingly, followed by President Shinra himself-their blatant interest was no surprise. To them he was a quantity that must be measured. Genesis was another, always checking and challenging his worth. The last had been the girl leader of AVALANCHE with her pointed question and strange strength. Now, there was this boy with his damning stare. Sephiroth did not think he'd ever found himself feeling as subhuman as he did right then.
The boy looked away sharply, and Sephiroth was left feeling as if he'd been found wanting-another unfamiliar feeling. He was not used to feeling as if he were something pitiable and pathetic. He didn't know which he preferred: the condemnation or the pity. Neither sat right with him.
"I wonder what would happen if you refused.” The words were faint, a barely there mumble that Sephiroth suspected wasn't really directed at him at all.
Sephiroth gave a faint, thoughtful sound and lifted his head. His silvery bangs brushed against his jawline as he contemplated the sky. After a moment he stepped away from the truck, fingers catching on Masamune as he pulled the sword with him, and focused on the quick approach of a pair of red scarfed officers. Though he didn't look to Zack's protégé, he did respond to his quiet words, “I have refused.”
Zack had paid for his weakness in his stead when Sephiroth refused to pursue Genesis and Angeal, to have to face them in true battle, to face the choice of killing them as he was bid. He'd let Zack face that choice for him, with a cold hope in his heart that Zack would be able to talk them into returning, because if anyone could, it would be Zack Fair.
He hadn't.
Sephiroth had resented him for it, but he hated himself for it more.
With a thump of boots the pair came to a halt before him, immediately at attention. “General, sir!” one barked, snapping off a quick salute. Sephiroth inclined his head in acknowledgment and he reported, “We're ready to depart, sir!”
“Get the men situated and we'll leave immediately,” Sephiroth said smoothly and turned on his heel to stride the few paces to the back of the truck. In short order a group of Thirds and two troopers had joined them, clearly deciding that Cloud Strife counted among their numbers. Sephiroth let them board first before turning to do so himself, he paused to turn his gaze back to the boy. “I merely saw no reason to refuse this.” Even if it was farcical and probably would not require his attention, it certainly got him away from Midgar, and if things went well there would be some monsters roaming close enough to require destruction.
His eyes flickered down to the chocobo chick still happily occupying himself with Cloud's presence. “Viri,” he called. The chick's head immediately swiveled around to him. “Climb.”
The chick immediately scrambled over eagerly, and scaled Sephiroth's coat in a matter of moments before, after a chirp, he jumped into the bed of the truck. Sephiroth followed, stepping up lightly into the vehicle, and scanning the group of men already occupying the benches that lined either side of their transport. He situated himself on the near end of the right bench, preferring to stay close to the open back end of the truck. It was both a strategically sound position, in that it allowed him a view of what was going on behind them, and it kept the vague feeling of claustrophobia such accommodations often left him with at bay. He was caged enough by the thin leash that tethered him to the metal monstrosity that was Midgar and ShinRa's power base without adding to the sensation.
Genesis and Angeal had slipped their leads, left him behind, and gone off together. Sephiroth had been left with nothing but the bitter taste of betrayal and the sour accompaniment of loneliness. If they had asked him, he might have left ShinRa too, he thought, the only thing that kept him tied down was the fact that there was nothing else out there for him. This was everything he had ever known.
Silently, Sephiroth settled Masamune into a position where the sword was both out of the way, and within easy reach should he need it. There was a metallic thump as the last of their group, Cloud Strife himself, stepped up into the vehicle. He took the only seat left, directly across from Sephiroth, without complaint. The Third next to Sephiroth had managed an impressive amount of space between them considering their cramped conditions. There was an almost palpable air of tension among the men, though Sephiroth paid it very little heed. He had no doubt that the men were uncomfortable in his presence.
As the vehicle rumbled to life the trooper looked down where he met Viri's beady black gaze as the small chocobo perched upon his boot. The chick let out a plaintive warble. There was little to no room, but the boy obligingly dangled a gloved hand down, playing a tame game of tug-of-war. He kept his head down, gaze focused on the bird.
Sephiroth's gaze drifted away and upward to take in Junon's buildings as they passed. Angeal was more suited for these sorts of missions, he couldn't help but think. Angeal who, out of the three of them, had been best suited for dealing with people on an even level. Genesis, while certainly more extroverted than himself, and something of an accomplished leader and SOLDIER, would have viewed such a menial chore as beneath himself. Angeal had always thrived on the simple things, had enjoyed plants and cooking, and generally been an easy going man. It was often times hard to believe that Angeal and Genesis could be successful friends from early childhood, and yet he'd seen proof of it, been accepted by the both of them to some degree. The thought brought with it a great deal of pain and bitterness that Sephiroth didn't want to examine.
He directed his thoughts elsewhere, filling his mind with the current mission. It was simple, routine, nothing interesting, boring. There really wasn't even a need for him beyond pure intimidation factor. Even the threat of possible monster attacks could have been dealt with by a Second in this area. The only plausible reason for him to be here was AVALANCHE, and even then the Turks had managed to deal with them thus far bar a few minor difficulties.
Sephiroth played his fingers over Masamune's sheath, his glove scraping against the casing softly. If he was lucky there would be something to put his blade against, perhaps even something strong enough to be worth his attention for a span. The thought brought his gaze drifting slowly toward the trooper sitting across from him, and Sephiroth gave a slow blink of contemplation. Certainly, the boy had displayed a level of skill in Mideel, but the question was whether or not that skill had been real, or a fluke. How much had he grown under Zack's tutelage as compared to what he already had? Sephiroth tapped a finger against Masamune in thought. It would be impossible to tell given the span of time since they'd last crossed blades, but Sephiroth could admit he was curious to see if he were truly able to keep up with him as he had in Mideel. The fight had lasted such an insubstantial amount of time before Zack had intervened.
(Just like Angeal.) Zack's intervention had been so similar, and the snapping of one of the longswords he'd wielded at the time.... It had been so much like that fight with Genesis, and Sephiroth had simply reacted, snaked Masamune out, and flicked the broken half of the sword aside far enough that it wouldn't hit any of them. Perhaps it had been residual guilt over being unable to help Genesis. His grip tightened on Masamune for a moment, annoyed with the turn his thoughts had taken. There was no reason for a sense of guilt over the incident. They had chosen their path.
"Viri is growing up well.” The quiet voice broke through the silence sharply, and Sephiroth slanted a look toward the boy. He could not help but feel bewildered that he was willingly speaking to him. All of his observations thus far had shown that Strife was rather devoted to staying away from him. Still, there was a set to the boy's jaw that spoke of determination, though Sephiroth could not fathom his reasoning. After a moment Strife added, "It's not usual for a chick to be able to follow orders at such a young age."
Sephiroth glanced down at the chick who was now bracing both of his claws against the trooper's boot for more leverage. For a moment he considered ignoring the comment, but supposed that if he were to gain further information it would be for the best to at least make an attempt. “I returned to the Chocobo Ranch for more information, though what they offered was inadequate. After observing him for some time I recalled how Angeal managed Zack. Zack's problems with focus are similar to Viri's attention span.” By making things fun, as much as Sephiroth tried not to think of it that way, and playing to the bird's, or in Angeal's case, Zack's, innate nature they seemed to react far better than trying to force them into doing something they weren't interested in. “It appears to be working.” Which said something about Angeal's ability as a teacher. Or possibly just the quick nature of the individual, he wasn't sure.
The climb command had been the most necessary, so as to keep Viri out from under his boots during battle, though there would be an issue with changing the workings of the command when the chocobo got older. He'd also have to teach him to stay out of the way again, but he would overcome that obstacle when it presented itself. For now he had to work with the attention span the chick presented him with. Just like Angeal had had to work with Zack's poor focus when he'd first become the mentor of the young SOLDIER. Sephiroth sighed faintly through his nose, attention drifting to the side again. He had no idea where Angeal had come by his patience.
The boy studied Viri for a long moment then gave a faint chuckle. Sephiroth couldn't help but send a shuttered glance toward him, feeling bemused. It wasn't often that someone treated him without deference. Even President Shinra offered him a certain amount of deferential treatment due to Sephiroth's advantageous position. Most certainly the troops and other SOLDIERs didn't bother to treat him as anything but the shining Hero and General he was supposed to be. There were only a few people that treated him as little more than another human being, and that was Angeal, Genesis, and Zack.
Genesis had often treated him as an obstacle to overcome, but that was part of their...friendship...and Sephiroth had never minded. It was refreshing, having someone who wanted to test their skill against him, though he'd never found true challenge in Genesis' endeavor. Angeal, though...Angeal hadn't wanted anything from him except for camaraderie and friendship, had not asked anything of him. Nor did Zack, the little amount of time they spent in each other's company. They were brought together more through the circumstances of knowing Angeal than anything else, but it was still Zack's persistence, his drive to call Sephiroth friend, that made them something similar. He was much like Angeal.
He wasn't sure how to classify Cloud Strife, who was nothing like the other three. He did not pursue Sephiroth's favor for friendship, or even gain like most would in his position, nor did he seem intent on challenging him as Genesis had. Sephiroth didn't know what to do with him, truth be told.
Movement caught his attention, and he turned to watch the boy in question scoop Viri up and into his lap, freeing his hand before using it to cover the chocobo's eyes. Viri warbled in confusion, perched stiffly where he'd been dropped, clearly unsure what to do at his sudden loss of both his playmate and his sight. He tried to shake the hand off, but the trooper patiently kept his grip, and soon enough Viri settled down, tucking his legs underneath him. Within a few minutes, the chick appeared to fall asleep. The ease and experience with which he handled the bird belied his tale about gaining theoretical knowledge. If there was anything Sephiroth had learned through his years of swordsmanship, years of being around weaponry and the army, it was that practical knowledge was begot only through experience. He doubted handling chocobos, or any animal, was any different. It certainly was proving so for him.
His attention drifted away once more to focus on the skyline. The plumes of thick, curling dust kicked up by their little caravan made intriguing shapes against the vault of the sky. Sephiroth let his mind wander idly-through thoughts of sword moves, stances, and different attack sequences, and through ways to deal with certain monster types, and situations. Eventually, his mind came back to the Mideel mission, to how Cloud had come at him with Angeal's-Zack's-sword.
He wanted to test that skill, he realized sharply. He wanted to see if the spark of challenge that had been there could live up to itself. It wasn't something he'd felt since Genesis had first come at him with his challenge. He'd outstripped Genesis, and even when working with Angeal the pair couldn't defeat him. It wouldn't hurt to test Cloud Strife's sword-skill, and a part of him missed those little sessions with his deceased friends though he did not acknowledge the fact. Slowly, he turned his attention back to Cloud and took him in, considering. The only question was, how would he go about putting forth the challenge? It had always been Genesis who had approached him, and there was no Training Room out here to invite the boy into, much as he'd slipped away while the Seconds and Thirds were away and spent the afternoon with Angeal and Genesis.
He let his mind wander in silent contemplation. His gaze wandered with his thoughts straying toward the trucks behind them, but more often remaining focused on the sky. The hours passed in silence, terrain passing; mountainsides passing by in the distance with the darker clots of forests spotty against their slopes, and eventually the day slipped away in the dusty passing of travel. The distance between Junon and Fort Condor, while not insurmountable was certainly less while in flight. Going by land was longer, but simpler. Perhaps they'd thought to test and see if it was bait enough to lure AVALANCHE out. It mattered little in the end, and Sephiroth settled back to watch as twilight faded into night, and stars spangled the sky. The men in the vehicle dozed restlessly, and Viri settled even deeper into sleep with the passing of the sun. The vehicles following them were visible only by the glow of their headlights. His hand lightly gripped Masamune, and though he didn't let himself drift he did allow himself to relax slightly, hooded eyes trained on the unconcealed sky.
Part 2