Disclaimer: I don't own any FFVII characters. Unfortunately.
Sephiroth's Little Black Ball: Part I
A syringe was being held aloft by Hojo, who had just filled it with mako. A seven-year-old Sephiroth eyed it nervously, squirming on his spot on the examination table, but not daring to leave it.
The last time he had tried to run away during the mako-injection he had been strapped down to the table, and left there for a long time while Hojo did the rest of the check up, including a few more injections. No small black ball for him to squeeze, no small conversations. None of the things he would normally get.
Rule Number 1: Don't run away from the Professor when he's trying to do a routine injection and check up.
The small squeezable black ball he had been alternating between bouncing off a small empty space on the nearby table that held various lab tools and liquids, and Hojo. Though he had stopped when Hojo picked up the syringe, having no wish to get a larger injection then necessary.
Rule Number 124: Don't throw small black balls at the Professor when he's handling the lab equipment.
"How are we feeling today, my boy?" Hojo asked conversationally as he walked over, preparing to inject the mako into one of the veins in Sephiroth's arm.
"Fine." He answered, keeping his gaze on the man instead of the needle that was posed above his arm. A small hiss escaped him as Hojo carefully and swiftly injected it. The small black ball losing all air as he crushed it beyond return, even after the needle was taken out of his arm.
Rule Number 200: Don't release the black ball unless you're bouncing it, you won't get it back.
Feeling mako running through his veins hurt like hell, it always sent him into a spasming fit for some reason, but he never shed tears anymore. Tears meant more time on this table, with Professor Hojo.
Rule Number 100: Don't cry in front of the Professor.
"It'll be over in a minute or so..." He heard the Professor tell him, watching him as he scribbled something down on his infamous clipboard.
He was right, the pain vanished within good time, but left Sephiroth exhausted, and his little squishy ball no longer squishy or round. He stared at it for a moment, waiting for it to re-inflate itself as it always did after one or any of his fits.
It didn't do what it was supposed to, just remained totally airless. Dead.
Rule Number 10: Don't destroy Sephiroth's black ball. Either indirectly nor directly.
He stared at it blankly, struggling to keep his normal composure, trying desperately to ignore the curious, analyzing look Hojo now had him fixed with.
His ball. His black ball, his toy, his friend, his sanity. It was dead. He killed it. Slowly, his eyes started watering as his mouth fixed itself into a sharp pout.
"Mine..."
Rule Number 1582: Don't squeeze the death out of your black ball. Results in breaking rules 1013, 734, 559, 387, 246, 100, 34 and 10.
As soon as he spoke, he started to sob, hitting the table he was on top of, throwing the dead ball away from him, making it hit several vials containing several different chemicals. Before he knew it he was having a full out hysterical fit, down from the table, throwing things, kicking objects that didn't break when they hit the ground.
He didn't care how much trouble he would be in. He didn't care if Hojo would strap him to the table for endless hours to complete his examination, or if he was stuck in that stupid, horrible white room for a day. All that mattered was that his black ball was gone. Dead.
Rule Number 734: Don't destroy the lab.
Hojo was trying to calm him, and Gast had come in to find out what was happening. Apparently his screams reached out past the labs and the mansion, all the way throughout the village. Poor people were probably wondering who was being tortured.
"Sephiroth! Sephiroth, calm down! It's fine! We'll get another one! It's okay!" He faintly heard Gast's voice as someone grabbed his arms, and another needle was inserted into his left arm, as it was forcefully held still.
Immediately he felt his body shutting down to a point. He fell limp against the two adults, still sobbing weakly. His throat felt dried out and scratchy, from all his screaming, and his eyes were burning in result of the tears. This was by far his worst tantrum yet, and as a result he could feel his blood boiling up again.
He felt like he was burning inside and out, clutching desperately to Professor Gast as he lifted Sephiroth, ignoring the pain the current death grip had on him.
Rules Number 34 & 246: Don't throw a tantrum in the labs; Don't throw a tantrum right after an injection.
"Send for Tseng. I believe we'll be needing to make a trip to get a new ball for the boy. He's so pleasantly cooperative when he has it." Hojo's voice was just barely caught by the silver-headed child's ears before blackness engulfed him.
The turk was coming, and Sephiroth knew he was in trouble.
Rule Number 387: Don't make The turk get called over. Ever.
There...Lemme know what you think? n.n'