Professor Hojo of the Science Research Department always loathed SOLDIER recruitment time. It not only inundated him with paperwork, but also drew his attention from his precious projects to a bunch of soft-headed lugs whose mako enhancements were probably worth more then their internal organs.

He entertained himself with the thought that maybe he would find something unusual and worthy of his notice.

The Science department, of course, got the final say on whether the prospective cadets passed, as mako enhancements were an integral part of the process, and rejection could easily spell doom on its members. Therefore, after the testing for mako receptivity was done, the files were sent to Hojo's (and his scientists) computers, where they awaited the final seal of approval. Or, if one was unlucky, rejected from the program and enlisted into the standing army.

He hit the button on the computer to scroll through the profiles. Average, all across the board. Average. Slightly better test scores. Good receptivity. That one wasn't going to make it. Above average. Normal. Normal. Normal.

Hojo froze in his chair. Had he really seen that, or was it a trick of his overworked eyes? He scrolled back twice to another profile. A cadet, 15, from Nibelheim, of rather short stature. Blond hair and blue eyes-fairly common among people from snowy regions, he would guess-and his written test scores were decent. His physical scores however, were abysmal, and that was putting it nicely. Hojo sneered, surprised the child had even made it this far without being killed.

That's not what caught his eye, though. Hojo pulled up the next page, the one about his mako scores. And they were….his fingers were twitching uncontrollably as he gripped the edge of his desk. Here he was, thinking the SOLDIER exams a waste of time, and yet the perfect opportunity had came out of nowhere.

He feverishly dove into his old archives, bringing up two files: one was Sephiroth's (his perfect, beautiful soldier) and the other was Vincent Valentine's. The thought briefly crossed his mind as to whether the Turk was still alive, but it mattered little. The pitiful man was so consumed with guilt he would never make it out of that coffin, and Hojo had made sure of that.

No, he shook his head. That wasn't important. Hojo instead pulled the cadet's profile up next to theirs to compare mako receptivity levels (at least for Valentine, after his experiment). He stared at the screen, astonished that he was correct, though he always was-this cadet's scores far surpassed those of either specimen!

It is incredible! A true miracle. This boy..this child from Nibelheim has somehow beat my perfect soldier! This is…unheard of. He gave another look to the profile, but nothing incredible stood out. Nibelheim was a reactor town, but that did not account for anything. How could someone with such amazing mako scores be of so little consequence? Everything seemed to point to this child's weakness, and yet…

That glow had returned to his eyes again, akin to a monster catching sight of its prey. This…he had not felt this fire for a long time. This beautiful, wonderful fire. The cadet would make a wonderful specimen, perhaps a candidate for the continuation of the Jenova project…

Hojo rubbed his hands together, trying to calm his breathing. He was a scientist, and thus not subject to emotional instability like other lesser life-forms. Time to think. With mako scores as extreme as these, there would be no way he could fail the SOLDIER program. The cadet was far on the weak side, but after the treatments, that would be a useless observation. His abilities would skyrocket, and while he would still be under Hojo's supervision, his specimen would be far from his reach. No, he needed the boy all to himself. His lip curled at the thought of other unsightly hands tampering with his project.

Shame that there was no war anymore. It was easy to disappear a SOLDIER.

An adjustment to his glasses, and then an idea. A SOLDIER was hard to make disappear, but a trooper…troopers went missing all the time. And would be under less scrutiny.

Hojo set to typing on his computer, 'fixing' the scores and suggesting the boy be dropped from the program. His word was law in these parts and now all he had to do was wait.

Who was this cadet again? Cloud Strife. He shook his head as he moved along to the rest of the profiles. The names of his projects were so easy to forget.

This wasn't right, was it?

His gloved fingers curled around the edges of the sink and he willed the little drops to stop falling. This wasn't right. He had tried so hard, but...

Cloud Strife does not meet the qualifications for SOLDIER.

Cloud Strife was too weak, more like it. He resisted the urge to strike a fist at the mirror, knowing it would change nothing or worse, not even break at all. Cloud did not want to look up right now. His eyes wouldn't stop burning-hell, he couldn't even see anything and holding back any semblence of sound was just making his jaw and neck ache.

He lifted a shaking hand to wipe the moisture from his eyes, desperately trying to compose himself. This was stupid. He couldn't get this emotional over a rejection, what would that tell everyone? Well, what they already knew, of course.

He gritted his teeth and firmly told that traitorous voice in his head to disappear.

It wasn't the end of everything. He was still enlisted in the standing army and could try again next year, and that may have given him some time to improve and prepare.

Just..deep breaths, Cloud. Get a hold of yourself.

He walked out of the bathroom, the small paper forgotten on the floor. Each step as he made his way back to the barracks echoed loudly and he focused on that instead of what he read between the lines.

Cloud Strife was too weak.

A month or so later and Cloud wasn't sure if the impact of his rejection had lessened any. It still stung to think about so he tried to avoid it whenever necessary, even glaring at people who were careless to bring it up.

He knew he was acting like a child but it hurt.

And now he was on a mission to Modeoheim to capture the rogue scientist Hollander, where there were rumors the K.I.A. SOLDIER Genesis was hiding out as well. He, as an infantryman, was given very few details on the mission, since his duty was backup, but it had to be very serious to send a Turk and a SOLDIER first class along.

And according to his fellow trooper, not just any first class SOLDIER. (But really, was there anything like a normal first class?) This black-haired man was the prodigy of Angeal Hewley, one of the other deserters, himself. It was said that even Sephiroth of all people had taken notice of him. Cloud swallowed, staring nervously at his boots. This man must be good if the great General of SOLDIER recognized him as a friend.

However, these thoughts only distracted him for a little longer as the helicopter really took flight and his stomach lurched. Oh shit, I was hoping this wouldn't happen…

But no, his motion sickness plagued him wherever he went and stopped for no one. Cloud focused on his breathing and stared straight in front on him to calm his stomach. Luckily his helmet was on, so the first class couldn't see him staring at the hilt of the sword behind his back.

The SOLDIER in question, however, was nothing like Cloud had expected. For all the intimidating image his uniform held, this man embodied none of it, instead laughing and joking with the Turk of all people-getting nothing but an annoyed look in exchange. He even directed a question towards Cloud himself, who just answered it by shaking his head, not wanting to let the feeling in his stomach overwhelm him and cause him to throw up all over the floor.

"Maaaan, when are we ever gonna get there? I think my leg is going numb," the black-haired man grumbled as said leg bounced up and down. The Turk stared at him, opening his mouth to reply, when suddenly the entire chopper shook.

Nausea forgotten, Cloud gripped the side of his seat, eyes frozen. Oh goddess please don't let us crash.

"What was that?!" The SOLDIER looked out the window on the side right as there was another, even greater shudder, followed by the awful sound of twisting metal. All of a sudden, the entire thing tipped to the side and Cloud struck the wall, his body at the mercy of gravity and a large metal death-trap. He couldn't see anything but he could hear the Turk and the SOLDIER shouting something at the pilot, however it was too late, they were already spiraling around, and around and down into the-