Title: Challenger
Author: Garnet Eyes
Archived: y-gallery. net, fanfiction. net
Summary: Getting what you want does not always mean getting what you expect.
Rating: K+
Pairings: None
Author Notes: I have not had the time to watch/play anything in the Final Fantasy VII universe beyond the original game and Advent Children. Therefore, I am certain there are inconsistencies between my writing and newer games or movies.
Disclaimers: Final Fantasy VII is owned by Squaresoft and I in no way, shape, or form profit off of my writing. This is simply for my own pleasure, and may at any time be removed and/or modified as I see fit.
...
When he had thought of having a physical equal, the General had never really fleshed out the idea. He had conceptualized more fulfilling fights and longer healing periods. The thrill of an actual challenge sang in his mind, but, like all fanciful desires, there was not much substance beyond that. Therefore, when he was introduced to the one who would be his equal, he could not help but feel somehow cheated. The boy was… tiny. Not simply short, but thin and possibly underfed. He looked cleaner than someone from the slums, but not by much. Blonde hair shot up at all angles – much like Fair's hair, when he thought about it – but that was the most outrageous factor. The boy was meek and quiet, keeping to himself and diligently keeping out of trouble. He struggled in all of his classes, obviously not the brightest of students, but he studied during all of his free time and tried very hard to do every task set before him. It was depressing to think that such a mouse was the only candidate strong enough to withstand the treatments.
Zackary took the boy in as another pity case, but Sephiroth remained at large oblivious and unreceptive to the little creature. His friend tried to get him interested, but it was difficult when everything he pictured could not possibly become reality. Perhaps he had been fooling himself, but the SOLDIER had thought his equal would be… for one, taller, also smarter, maybe cynical or more outgoing. The General had pictured a man – a veteran – and received a child. It was a hard come-down. He did not want a tiny mouse who would be eaten by the Shin-Ra snakes.
A year had passed before the silver warrior realized it, Fair training the boy as the General wouldn't, pestering him about the tiny mouse so frequently that it just became background noise to the SOLDIER while he worked. After the first few days, Sephiroth had seen neither hide nor hair of the boy. Now he was being called out to test the child and reluctantly did so, refusing to hold back as he knew he should so that he could properly gauge skill level. The crushing disappointment returned, seeing how quickly the blonde had succumbed. Again, the silver warrior retreated to nurse his wounded fantasy and wish for someone better suited to emerge. It was a fleeting desire, borne from defeated hope, and he spent the better part of the following year forgetting all about his "equal" in the torrent of duties that his daily life brought about. Zackary finally managed to take the hint and stopped speaking of his little charity case, at least in front of the older SOLDIER. Everything readjusted as if there never was a ridiculous faux SOLDIER science experiment of Hojo's in effect.
The next year's test for the mouse came to his attention and the General grudgingly went. He wasn't impressed to see absolutely no outward change in physical appearance beyond the iridescent glow of Mako in azure eyes. Feeling petty and perhaps a bit arrogant, the SOLDIER fought the boy as he would any mindless beast. The General's eyes narrowed and his focus returned when the little mouse got too close with his blade. Correction: judging from the warm liquid slowly oozing down his cheek, the boy had landed a light hit in Sephiroth's distracted state. Irate, the SOLDIER became serious and started to actually note the boy's abilities. It was obvious that Fair had a heavy hand in training him, but the blonde seemed to be twitching at odd intervals when he fought. Several minutes of cat and mouse later, the SOLDIER called him on it, already fully aware that those spasms were from instinctual maneuvers being held back. The SOLDIER wanted to see the fight progress with the blonde's full abilities on display.
The little mouse still irritatingly hesitated, and so the General turned the implied command into a direct order. He did not allow himself to regret it, even as he went careening head first toward a building. His maneuverability allowed him to acrobatically twist and land feet first on the metal wall before he drew his blade up into attack position and lunged toward the oncoming blonde. The boy was not as quick to fall this time, and the SOLDIER demanded to know why all of his abilities hadn't immediately been put on display from the beginning of the session. The little mouse bit out that he had not perfected the techniques he was developing and did not want to try something he wasn't positive he could control. Sephiroth started paying attention to his experimental equal at that point.
He looked up all previous progress reports, studied all videotaped practice sessions, read through every diagnostic examination, and slowly came to understand precisely why Zackary's little charity case was the one singled out for this project. It could have been worse, all things considered, and helping to train the boy did some good in curbing his meek nature. Seeing how the mouse was ostracized for not being in the normal programs helped to place them on even ground as well. Sephiroth knew all too well the feeling of being set apart for his differences. It only occurred to him then what exactly his own desire for an equal was doing to someone else. His own natural propensity for solitude was put aside so that he could allow the little blonde another ungrudging ear should he desire the company. His offer met infrequent use, but time spent together did not involve idle complaints or self-depreciation. The little mouse had a strong backbone.
The next progress report sparring session gave surprising results, even now that the General was paying attention. His left arm required surgery to fix properly, although the SOLDIER incurred less damage from the spar than his partner. Sephiroth could not help a surge of pride that he had honestly needed to use more force than he ordinarily did to win. Subsequent spars throughout the following year helped to lessen the gap between them that experience caused. The boy soon began dividing his time between physical training and learning the duties and responsibilities of a military leader. The General had no compunctions against seeing the boy take his title when it was time for him to retire. It was actually pleasant to have a shadow helping him and taking over lesser duties over time.
Another year passed before the silver warrior knew it and it was again time for a progression report. The blonde fought hard, using every trick he had picked up along the way, and Sephiroth couldn't help his lengthy positive review. His muscles ached from the battle for hours afterward, having pushed himself well beyond what he had expected to need. Physically, the little mouse looked no different than he had when he first arrived. Only the eerie Mako glow in his eyes, bright as any SOLDIER first, lent warning to his capabilities. It was therefore something of a shock to the witnesses when the blonde performed the brute force necessary to push the General slowly across the concrete with just their locked swords. The tingling sensation fending that off left in his arms had the SOLDIER smirking for the remainder of their fight.
The final year of the program had the little mouse out on Mako-beast hunts, leading platoons against hordes of monsters, waging small-scale war against active rebels, and otherwise preoccupied with garnering the necessary respect of the rest of the army. The blonde could learn the political venues after all other training was complete, at the General's discretion. It was odd, how strongly the SOLDIER noticed the absolute absence of his blonde now that the boy had made an impression on him. Sephiroth only occasionally happened to see the little soldier when the boy was in Mako immersion while the SOLDIER came in for his weekly visits and adjustments. Other than that, the General and his equal spent no time in the same vicinity. He never even managed to hear the boy's voice after that last progress report spar. The year seemed to pass too slowly all of the sudden, his current duties no longer the focal point of his mind.
The final progress spar was set to be an event. No longer was it an empty training ground with a few judging spectators to collect a thorough report on all aspects of the match. This was a battle set in a stadium, SOLDIERs populating the stands alongside grunts, Shin-Ra office personnel, and civilians alike. It was to be televised – a social event that would be talked about for months to come. Hojo had confidence in his project, obviously ready to be pleased but also willing to accept a set back if necessary. The General remained relaxed and passive, ignoring all of the commercialization and capitalization on his desire for an even match. He briefly worried that his little mouse would be shocked and not perform up to his previous standard, but then the past year was intended to adjust him for working with and being seen by others.
The rules of engagement were simple: swords were allowed, fists were allowed, materia usage was allowed, summons were not allowed, underhanded tactics were acceptable, maiming was permitted, but killing was forbidden. Sephiroth idly fingered the mastered fire materia he had with him while awaiting his summons, already calculating a basic plan of attack that could easily be revised with any changing variables. He took the stadium field to wild applause and tuned it out immediately, waiting for his opponent to emerge so that he could begin analysis. The mouse looked the same as ever, if for once blank-faced as he approached. His emotions were well-hidden, but Sephiroth had been doing this his whole life and could tell that the noise troubled his opponent. That could be used if it became necessary.
The battle itself was spectacular. Sephiroth hadn't needed to use so much effort since he had been forced to battle without rest for two days straight during the Wutai/Shin-Ra War. The SOLDIER could not recall the last time he had become airborne for so much of a spar. Half of the time he needed to be out of the way of his own mastered earth spells, but just as frequently he was thrown up by the force of the blonde's swinging blade. More than once the battle had chased up into the stands, barely avoiding spectators while avidly focusing on the other fighter. His mouse was fast – far faster than any SOLDIER and perhaps a tad more so than Sephiroth himself. Although it was mildly frustrating, the silver warrior would have been disappointed had the teen not planned his materia for maximum benefit for his small frame, including in his array only two magics – a mastered ice and an at least level three restore – and had a number of command and independent materia. While the General had prepared himself aptly given all that he knew of the teen's abilities and his personal field experience, he had not bothered to use any of his command materia, as none of what he owned would be particularly useful in this event, and his mastered magics soon became more of a burden than a boon.
All fire attacks were nullified with split-second activation of comparable ice attacks and even quick succession fire-quake-lightning was deftly avoided on cat's paws. Long range spells proving fruitless, the General gracefully avoided a few ice blasts to close in on the blonde. Swords sparked, clashing together with a speed that any unenhanced spectator could not hope to see. Sephiroth underestimated the boy's ingenuity, as well. Although any direct magic attack was met with an equal and opposing fire cast, the General had been wholly unprepared to find himself suddenly standing on a thick sheet of ice. He refused to flail, although his attack was completely swallowed by the sudden lack of friction that nearly cost him his inherently graceful style. The boy did not suffer any issue, and the SOLDIER had to believe that he had practiced fighting on ice before. The General used a wide-range quake spell to break up the ice, knowing he would have time to be impressed with both the elemental manipulation and the silent cast that he hadn't even been aware of at a later date.
Not one to be easily tricked, the silver warrior paid close attention to his surroundings once again. The necessity to divide his concentration when fighting a single opponent was both new and amusing. He did not have the chance to really work out how to manipulate his own magic materia for an effect that would catch the blonde off guard, but he would have hesitated to cast something he wouldn't have full control over inside a stadium full of spectators anyway. Still, this was going to require the General to think on his feet; usual strategies thus far proving ineffective, he would have to use ideas as they presented themselves. Perhaps a distraction was in order.
Bringing to the mouse's attention the fact of the large crowd surrounding them, watching and judging them, earned a contemptuous snort of acknowledgement but no notable changes in attack pattern. That particular outlet shot down, basic taunting would have to suffice. It did not have the desired result. Sephiroth couldn't begin to believe that he completely lacked the skill to block the attack his own words had brought out. Sharp, curling tendrils of pain flared out from every part of him the chain attack hit, blood splattering the arena from open wounds. The SOLDIER coughed up red liquid, spitting it to the ground as he hastily regained his footing, ignoring the blood oozing from a head wound in his hairline. For all the time they had spent in the arena, the boy landed the first proper attack.
A smirk tugged the edges of the silver warrior's lips as he cast a medium cure spell. He conceded that, had this not been a "friendly" spar, that attack done properly would have killed him. The little mouse was indeed his true match. But this fight wasn't over yet, and jade eyes promised retribution. He would not be the only one walking away bloodied; in fact, the blonde was going to be carted away in a stretcher.
Frustration led the SOLDIER to realizing just how much his materia was weakening him and he released all of his magics save his fire and restore. The added strength that allotted him gave Sephiroth the opportunity to lock their swords and draw himself close enough to punch the boy since he could take a hand away from the hilt for at least that long. Subsequently, the blonde changed his stance enough to stay out of reach. To Sephiroth, that simply made things more challenging. He attacked fiercely, blade arcing along deadly paths that were always blocked and halted. He attempted a different approach, abruptly dropping from an offensive blade maneuver to leg sweep the blonde and follow up with a forward press. It kept the boy unbalanced and allowed a few slices with his Masamune, but all the damage was restored with a mid-level cure spell. This battle would be a lengthy one if they did not find a way to stop one another from casting. Both of them were proficient and required little time for channeling, so it couldn't be as simple as just keeping a steady offense.
Well into the second hour of continuous combat, Sephiroth was taken by surprise when the ice was once again manipulated, this time to freeze his legs to the ground. With a growl, he cast a fire to melt the ice enough to escape while fending off some complex maneuvers. Such a use of magics was not recorded in any tactical book; his mouse had developed that style and ability on his own from scratch. The General retaliated with a well-used but still effective trick, having mastered the art of silent casting during this fight. The blast of fire while their swords clashed managed to cause the boy a decent amount of trouble, if no lasting damage.
It wasn't until halfway into the third hour that the SOLDIER grudgingly admitted he had sustained more of the lasting damage – he might not actually win this time. The audience had long ceased to exist in his mind, but now he momentarily considered the reaction, should he fall. He couldn't fathom it. After that point his main concern was swiftly blocking and jabbing, pride preventing him from accepting what was proving inevitable. His mouse showed no outward signs of fatigue beyond the sweat that had accumulated on his body. His endurance was superior, even if his strength was not.
There was nothing to complain about, however, as the battle finally drew to a close nearing the five hour mark with both combatants a bloody mess. Standing a short distance from one another, swords poised for the next attack as air sucked heavily in and out of their lungs, a dead silence settled between them. Perhaps for the outside observer, everything appeared equal, but the SOLDIER tiredly conceded his defeat to his opponent even before his sword sunk into the broken ground, legs giving out under stress and damage. Propped up by his weapon, the General struggled to activate a cure spell through his fatigue. He managed a lesser cure as his opponent's sword rested a hair's breadth from his neck. So the spar was called, and the event became one of the most talked about events in Midgar's history.
Sephiroth had pictured someone more… perhaps grand was the proper word, to be the man who could fight on par with him so few years ago. Now he could picture no one else being able to achieve what the blonde had. His little mouse became the predator and the SOLDIER was happy to be the prey.