"Genesis, what the hell's the matter with you?!"
The redhead just looked up from under long, dark lashes and grinned ferally up at his friend. Sephiroth stood completely still, looking angrily down at only one of two people he'd claim as close to him as a brother. But he'd never seen Genesis like this.
From beside him, Angeal clutched his left arm as a Cure materia went to work on the long gash in his flesh. Genesis sword dripped the red blood from the wound.
"Nothing's wrong with me."
Sephiroth shook his head in warning, his long silver hair swishing a little at the motion.
"The hell there's not. You almost took Angeal's arm off. Now, what the hell were you doing?"
"Practicing."
Sephiroth growled, a sound so soft and low in his throat that most people couldn't have heard it. But this was Genesis, and he heard and understood perfectly. He rose slowly to his feet, much like a wolf about to attack for supremecy in a pack.
"Like I said, I was practicing. It's not my fault that Angeal's too slow to block."
The redhead made it walk by the silver-haired man, but was stopped by the firm grib that locked around his wrist. Genesis turned on his friend, eyes blazing, but voice calm and low.
"Let me go."
Sephiroth's eyes narrowed.
"Alright. But you will come back here tonight. And if you want to hurt someone, try to hurt me."
Genesis grinned again.
"I'll be here. And it'll be a pleasure to take you down."
The two watched as Genesis walked out of the training room.
Midnight. The clock on Genesis cell announced it as he entered the dark training room. Sephiroth was waiting for him, as he expected. He almost missed him, since the taller man was dressed all in black, only his long silvery hair giving him away.
"Genesis."
The tone was cold and full of anger. Genesis smiled. This was going pretty well, already.
"Sephiroth."
The hiss of Masamune being withdrawn from its sheath was matched by the slide of Genesis own sword leaving its resting pace as well. There were no words as the two swords met, metal meeting metal and the two singing their songs of battle.
"Hm. You've gotten better. Maybe one day, you will be a hero."
Genesis snarled as the whispered words went to work on his fevered mind. Who was Sephiroth to put him down like that?
He swung his sword away and danced backwards, feeling hate well inside of him as Sephiroth smirked.
"Better than you'll be."
Sephiroth closed his eyes, his smile growing by fractions as he shook his head. And Genesis took the oportunity to lunge forward-- his sword should have buried itself into soft flesh, but Sephiroth had heard him coming. With a quick upward swing, Genesis was unarmed as his sword made a silver arch across the room. And Genesis found himself not waiting for the bite of a blade, as he expected, but held firmly in the General's arms, their lips only inches apart, their breath mingling, until he reached up, that last little bit, to ask for what he truly wanted.