Remnant of Dreams

©®™ Lt. Commander Richie

Disclaimer:I've outlined this way too many times already for it to be healthy. Don't own it. All I own is a giant throwing star named 'Bronze Demon'. Ooh, hey, another Hojo excerpt in this chapter. These are always so much fun, because I get to let out my inner mad scientist! ... Even if my inner mad scientist is an evil squeaky bastard. Stupid chapters are getting so much shorter now, and I really kind of hate it because it's getting very annoying to upload and then only see that my chapter has a word count of only 1900 and a half.

Due to troubles with my grades and upcoming finals, my computer has been taken. I'll do what I can with what I have, but there's no guarantee that I'll have a chapter next week.

Chapter 3

The personal Journal of Dr. Hojo of ShinRa,

May 13th, Era 0008 010.

It appears that the entirety of the female specimen lab is not completely incompetent. Due do some sort of ill-reported mistake in genetic dosage, the perpetrator of which has been removed from ShinRa service permanently, an entire set of specimen embryos was contaminated. However, this mistake proved fruitful in that three of the specimens did not develop complications after their first exposure to the Mako tanks. These specimens, FX, FXI and FXII, however, are not without their defects. Each is, of course, a nearly full-blooded Ancient, and each has brain activity nearly surpassing that of the male specimens. However, they are stubborn in that they refuse to comply with any of our tests while they are awake.

As stated before, each has genetic difficulties that must be overcome. While each of the other clones can somehow absorb Materia through their skin and equip it to their bodies without the need of weapons, FX cannot. Ironically enough, FX is also the most aggressive when forced to spar with either the other female specimens or any of the male specimens. Her 'sister', FXI, reached an accelerated age of ten in only a few weeks, and then completely stopped growing. However, her analytical skills are unparalleled, matching and even surpassing my own, Reeve's, Rufus' and Tseng's combined.

Oddly, FXII had an adverse effect to long-term exposure to Mako. At one point the specimen's skin began to burn away. The incompetent scientists on shift at the time were too stupid to call upon myself for help, so by the time I arrived she had been removed from the Mako and most of her face was heavily scarred across. The sudden action of being taken from the Mako tank without proper draining and conditioning led to shock, and in the process she managed to loose a limb. It was replaced by a metal prosthetic, of course, and was quickly fashioned into a weapon.

Though they are specimens, and hard-headed ones at that, they are still being coddled as children by my incompetent staff. Do they not understand that treatment such as this will result in them turning soft? I am not trying to raise schoolchildren from scratch, I am attempting to create something with which I can continue my research into the Cetra! By whatever means necessary I shall make them realize this.

"You'll have to leave without her knowing, you know." It was early that Vincent had received a text from Reeve, asking him to come to Kalm. The Ninja peered over his shoulder, blankets falling to her waist and exposing a flannel nightgown printed with little white cats saying cute things in Wutainese.

"Yes." He neither wanted to move nor wanted to run away, but it was his only option in the current situation.

"And she'll be heartbroken that you left without saying goodbye." It was almost as though Yuffie was trying to drive the stake deeper, as though she was guilt tripping him for all the times that he himself would leave and be unaccounted for for long periods of time.

"I know." He nodded, flipping his phone shut and glaring at the cover as though it was the source of all his problems. In a way it almost was, but he could live with it until he found a way to get out of the mess he was in.

"Then say goodbye, and don't take 'no' for an answer." The Ninja gave him room as he rolled over onto his back, now glaring at the ceiling with his hair pooling out around his head. "I know you can."

"Not to her, I can't." He tried hard to ignore the fingers brushing across his chest as Yuffie pulled him into a hug. "If she asks to go with me, I'll end up letting her."

"You give the man a solution, and he makes it go full-circle back to the problem." The Kunoichi muttered, pulling her arms from his torso and using them to pull her pillow up over her head with a 'hmph'. "Ah gi'hah." Came her muffled voice, and Vincent raised an eyebrow at her.

"Since when do you give up?" He asked, and was awarded with a rude gesture in his general direction. "That's hardly becoming of you." Yuffie used both hands to pull the pillow from her face, looking rather cross.

"Shut up." She said, glaring levelly at the man next to her. "Your feeble attempts at topic-changing are only coming across as bad innuendo."

"It's true, though. You don't give up." His eyes crinkled lightly at the edges, his mouth slowly curling up into what could be called the barest minimum of a smile.

"Well then, stop being so Leviathan-damned frustrating! You're going to make me pull out either my hair or yours, and I'm not too sure who's going first. Just tell Mira that she can't go with you! She's got school on Monday anyway, so I have to take her all the way back to Nibelheim." Yuffie sat up on the bed, pointing an accusatory finger at Vincent's bare chest. "And if you tell her maybe next time, I'll... I'll..." She paused for a moment, trying to think up a good threat. The Ninja's outburst wasn't without prompting, though. Several months before, Mira had begged to tag along on a WRO mission to the Midgar Swamp. Knowing the danger, Vincent told her 'Maybe next time'. The 'next time' turned out to be a mission that air-dropped them onto an uncharted and forested island just east of Northern Continent that was infested with Cactuars. Finally, Yuffie came to a decision.

"You tell her 'no'," she began, poking Vincent in the chest with every other word. "Or when you get back to Nibelheim you're sleeping in the main hall with the evil floating pumpkins."

By the time anyone really moved to get out of bed that day, it was noon. However, it was to the sound of Saturday morning cartoons that Tifa came downstairs to the kitchen. The counter space was, of course, a wreck, milk splashed in small puddles and little chunks of chocolate-y cereal littering the floor. Drowsily following the rapidly dwindling trail to its source, the martial artist found exactly what she expected. Marlene, Denzel and Mira all sat around the TV with large bowls of Chocolate-Frosted Sugar Bombs, rapt at attention to the screen like only a child hyped up on sugar could be. Mira even had her spoon dangling from her mouth still, the sleeves on her nightdress just barely long enough to reach her fingers but the rest of the dress much too long on her.

"I swear he looks just like your dad." Denzel said in the nearly-stoned way that only a kid with too much sugar could, taking a bite of cereal. Mira jumped, and began eating again. She shook her head, chewing thoughtfully.

"Nope!" She smiled wiredly, as though she had already had several bowls of the sugary cereal. "Daddy's got fluffier..." She paused for a moment, putting her spoon down and pulling at the spikes on the back of her head as if to make a point.

"... Maybe." The older boy paused his eating again, peering at the TV as a shout and a crash came from it. "You think that blond whatsername-lady is based on Tifa?"

Tifa raised an eyebrow at this, leaning heavily on the door frame to the living room. For kids high on sugar, the three of them were being quiet. Marlene especially. Cloud would have to take them all to the park to get them to get rid of some of that. He would probably have to put up with Mira's self-taught and rather poor excuse for martial arts in the process, but he was the strongest out of all of them and most likely to survive a flying kick from a little girl that had just dropped from a tree onto his shoulders.

"Nuh-uh. No-way." Well that couldn't be good... Marlene was finally speaking, which proved that sugar didn't render her mute, but she was talking much too fast. "Tsunade's-not-fast-enough." Denzel had ignored the younger girl, and continued on speaking in a mellow voice. It was like he hadn't been affected by the sugar running through his veins practically instead of blood.

"-and then we've got the blond idiot that looks like Cloud but acts too much like Yuffie for his own good, an' the guy that looks like your dad but acts like Mr. Valentine, an' the guy with the giant sword-"

"CONSPIRACY!" Well, if everyone in the house hadn't been up by then, they certainly were now. It was an obvious thing to say that Mira's system had adverse effects when processed sugar was entered into the mix, and she would become jumpy nearly to the point of Tourette's.

"Denzel..." Tifa finally said warningly, and three sets of eyes all snapped to her. "You know you're not supposed to give her sugary cereal before everyone else wakes up." Another yell and a crash came from the television, and the kid's eyes snapped right back to it. "Hey!" The martial artist said, snapping her fingers several times. "Listen to me when I'm talking to you!"

All three sets of eyes focused back on her, although Marlene looked as though she was trying to focus one eye on the TV set and the other on Tifa. Someone swore as they fell down the stairs, stumbling down the hall before bracing themselves against the wall. It was Yuffie, her hair disheveled and a shuriken in her hand.

"Someone screamed?" She asked drowsily, looking about the room. Mira's hand shot up at a whiplash-inducing speed, and she rocked so hard from her seat on the floor that the large bowl of cereal on her lap nearly spilled.

"I learned that word in school!" The eight-year-old said, and Yuffie shrugged to Tifa and went to sit down behind the three kids. The Ninja blinked a few times, her eyes focusing on the TV as she reached down behind Denzel and pulled out the half-eaten box of Chocolate-Frosted Sugar Bombs. Tifa rolled her eyes and walked towards the kitchen to start cleaning up the mess that the kids would undoubtedly ignore until the milk stagnated or someone forced them to do it.

"Dude!" Yuffie finally yelled, breaking the sugar-high silence of the Saturday morning cartoon-watching crowd. "I remember this show from when I was a kid!" Onscreen a Ninja in orange and a kid in blue and white were attacking each other viciously. The Kunoichi blinked a few times, popping a few more hunks of sugary cereal in her mouth. "This show is a secret method my dad cooked up for me to pay attention to my history lessons. All this stuff really happened!" A few more hunks of cereal disappeared as the three kids on the floor stared at her.

"Seriously?" Marlene asked. Yuffie nodded, and Denzel scrabbled for the remote and quickly changed the channel.

... Yes, Naruto is a Saturday Morning Cartoon now. And yes, it is the equivalent of something along the lines of either Thundercats or Voltron: Defenders of the Universe. Except it would have been on Wutai's equivalent of the History Channel.

... And I need to start writing. NOW. Or else I have a feeling I'll be very VERY pressed for time come next Thursday.