Detachment

"Having a detachment from your emotions is very useful if you plan to have a successful career in the Sciences. As a matter of fact, having a lack of emotional sensitivity is a good precursor to developing the professional, clinical mindset of a decent scientist. Of course, there are some scientists who are extremely emotional to the point of being ridiculous, but know this - they retain their working positions only because of their SUPERB performance. I must admit here that I am by no means the greatest of the scientists out there. The reason why I've outlasted or bested so many of my peers is simply because I do not give my emotions any control over my actions. It's that simple."

- Quote from Professor James Hojo, extracted from a speech given as part of the orientation program for Midgar University's 2009 batch of freshmen for the Science courses.

xxx

He had read the complete speech given by Professor Hojo to the Science course freshmen. And he had decided that indeed, having an emotional detachment from your work was a good step to take in the pursuit of academic excellence. He had little taste for the things most other teenagers found amusing, such as television, video games, and even girls. Honestly, Zexion found such things to be boring, mainly because they offered little benefit in the way of improving his chances of making it as the valedictorian of his class. Every time he heard of someone skiving-off school work to engage in such time-wasting activities, he would merely smirk at their juvenile behavior, and then resume whatever it was that he had been doing.

Well, the bit about girls being boring was not entirely due to his studiousness. And it was not due to any form of hormonal disorders, either. In that respect, Zexion was a perfectly normal teenage human male, who didn't suffer from a lack of biochemical materials that left some unfortunate souls measuring their woefully inadequate penises in locked bathrooms, or whose faces exploded into veritable replicas of the moon's crater-studded surface. He was a little shortchanged in the height department (length- and girth-wise Zexion Junior was satisfactory, based on the statistics he had dug up), but otherwise, hormonally, he was identical to every other male teenager out there on the streets.

Any other GAY teenager you might find on the streets, that is. Hence, he had a valid reason to not bother trying to win the hearts of girls, and as such, he had full freedom to focus on his studies. But those who knew of his sexual orientation often questioned the reasons for his apparent lack of emotions and asexual nature. And of course, either way, Zexion didn't give a single, stinking drop of shit what they thought about him, or what they said behind his back.

xxx

"- and so, by applying the basic concepts of Boolean algebra and logic, we can prove that the complement of the intersection of the two sets..." Mr. Garland Genesis lectured his students, as he sketched a circular Venn diagram on the chalkboard to illustrate the sets and subsets he was using for his explanation, "... is a subset to the union between the complements of both individual sets, HENCE proving De Morgan's Law of sets."

Half the class seemed to be in a state of torpor, and the students making up the other half were either paying rapt attention or doodling aimlessly in their notebooks. As would be expected, one of those few students who was not doodling or drooling on his desk was Zexion.

"Now, I know that half of you piss-wits aren't paying attention here," said Garland, sounding somewhat miffed. Falling back on one of his contingency plans for dealing with inattentive students, he called out the first of their names that came to mind, "Zexion!"

"Yes, sir?" the slate-haired teen replied, after underlining the solution to the mathematical problem written on the board by his teacher.

"Based on this diagram here," Garland gestured to the white-lined sketches on the board, "How could you define set B being subtracted from set A?"

Zexion blinked, as the answer clicked in his mind, "Set A intersecting with the complement of set B, sir."

"Very good," nodded the white-haired maths teacher, his eyes glinting with a hint of sadism, "All of you really should be more like this sweet child here. Studious and disciplined!"

"He's got IQ," called out one of the girls in the class, with a giggle, "But his EQ is about the same as that of a snail!"

The entire class save for Garland and Zexion burst into rapturous laughter, despite the fact that half of the jocks in the small room probably had no idea what the Hell it was that made IQ distinct from EQ. Zexion merely looked bored, and started to scribble something in the margins of his notebook. Garland, never one to take such disorder in his class lying down, turned a most fascinating shade of red.

"ALL OF YOU!!!" he boomed, scaring the class into silence - old men that looked like exhumed corpses weren't supposed to be able to shout that loud, were they now? - and fixing a nasty glare at all of them, "SPOT TEST, TOMORROW!"

As if suddenly unafraid of their furious teacher, the students started to groan and moan at the announcement that a test would be held on the next day.

"Stupid Zex-" was heard from one of the jocks, only to be silenced by the old teacher's crisp words.

"The test tomorrow will cover the concepts of Boolean Algebra, Sets, and also Basic Probability," he announced, just as the bell rang, "Whoever fails this one... I'll just hand you over to Mr. Saix for punishment, since he is always willing to oblige such requests. Class dismissed."

One-by-one, the students left the classroom, the room becoming steadily emptier until only Zexion remained there with Garland.

"Zexion, my boy," the teacher asked kindly, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, sir," he nodded, as he rose out of his seat, having finished packing his books away into his sling-bag, "All is well with me."

Garland fixed a pointed stare at Zexion, "I've heard rumors about you, Zexion. And they're quite worrisome."

"Oh?" the question was polite enough, but a distinct note of hostility was discernible beneath the smooth exterior of Zexion's voice.

"You need to realize, my boy, that studies don't define your teenage life," Garland said softly, as he wiped the board with his ancient duster, "Enjoy your youth while you can."

"What is the point? Wasting time by engaging in most of the activities considered to be leisurely... It has no benefits for me."

"Go home, child," said Garland, as he dumped his duster into the small bucket that was placed next to his desk, "And think it over. Your teenage years will never come again, and you're quite nearly out of them now."

"Very well, sir."

Zexion left the classroom, and Garland watched his retreating back until the door closed behind it. Sitting down behind his large teacher's desk, he stuck his right hand into his trouser pocket and took out a battered leather wallet. Opening it, he gently pulled out a faded photograph of a entire class of students, all smiling at the camera.

"Believe me, Zexion," he whispered to no one in particular, "There is more to life than mere studies."

He himself was not in the picture, having been busy with an assignment that day. But now, thirty-seven years later, he realized that when he looked back at his teenage years, he saw nothing but endless pages of equations.

A single tear dropped onto the old photograph.

xxx

As it had done for countless other customers, the little copper bell bolted to the front door of Diz's Coffee Shop chimed out an alert to the eccentric proprietor as soon as Zexion pushed the door open. Sticking his head out of the kitchen, Diz managed to get a quick glance of his newest patron of the day before he returned to scrambling some eggs for one of the other customers currently seated in the shop. Today, there had been an unusually large number of customers, and Diz's little stove had been busy since about nine in the morning.

"Take a seat, kiddo!" he called from the kitchen, "Be with you in a minute!"

"It's alright, Diz," Zexion replied, walking carefully past two tables of customers, "I'll fix my own tea."

"Don't break the pot, that's all I'm saying."

"Understood."

A teaspoon of oven-dried tea leaves was tipped into a ceramic mug, and some boiling water poured over it. Zexion swirled the mixture a bit, letting the tea brew, and also allowing for the water to bring out the flavor in the shriveled little leaves. Finally, he topped the mug up with some lukewarm water, and stirred in some sugar and milk. Now he would let it sit for a bit, to allow the tea to become really aromatic.

"Scrambled eggs, coming up!" Diz announced, as he walked out of the kitchen holding a large plate of scrambled eggs, that positively dripped with ketchup, "Irvine, how you can digest this stuff, I have no idea..."

"REAL men eat ketchup, Diz!" guffawed one of the seated customers - a man in a cowboy hat with a long ponytail - as he dropped his boot-clad feet to the floor, "And about damn time I got some service, you ol' sonofawhore!"

Diz smirked, "The feeling's mutual, Irvine. And if I catch you with your feet up on ANY of my tables ever again, there's an interesting photograph I have-"

"EGAD!" Irvine cried, holding up both of his hands in a defensive pose, ANYTHING but that! I'll keep them on the floor from now on, I swear!"

"Enjoy the eggs, bucko."

Zexion merely smirked from where he was behind the counter, waiting for his tea to settle. Irvine Kinneas was a bouncer for one of the pubs further down the street, and he always ordered his favorite dish of scrambled eggs smothered in ketchup whenever he dropped in for a bite at Diz's Coffee Shop. He also tended to put his filthy, boot-wearing feet up on the table when Diz wasn't looking, and today was one of the rare occasions when the wily old cook had managed to catch him in the act, so to speak. And there was always mention of an 'interesting photograph', and Irvine's frantic apologies usually followed.

Diz had shown them the picture once; it showed Irvine in a sleeveless cocktail dress with a plunging neckline, apparently after a lost bet with Tifa, who ran the bar where he worked.

Admittedly, the hairy armpits and chest made the picture rather obscene, but Diz kept it on hand for blackmail purposes. Or for when the cowboy put his feet up on the tables.

His tea finally done, Zexion moved to one of the smaller, vacant tables, and took out his homework for the day.

xxx

"So, Zexion... Not going with your bunch to the beach tomorrow afternoon?" Diz asked, as he finished washing the dishes from his earlier customers, which had all paid and left a while ago now, "The weather forecast is good for this tomorrow afternoon."

"Can't," Zexion muttered, as he scribbled his way through an essay for Miss Trepe, "Got an extra credit project to do for Mr. Xigbar's class."

"Extra credit is good, but this isn't healthy, Zexion. You are not developing normally for a young man."

"What do you mean? Puberty-"

"Puberty," Diz interrupted, "Also includes emotional development and the building of people skills, as well as socializing. Sadly, you seem to be neglecting all that."

"That statement is wrong to the last-"

"Is it really? What about last month's outing to the Midgar botanical gardens? Two weeks ago, to go camping for the weekend in the forest reserve? Last week, to catch a movie?"

"Look, Diz," Zexion said exasperatedly, "Mr. Garland already gave me this lecture just now-"

"You know, you might be book-smart and very civilized in that regard, but you're an emotional caveman."

Zexion's mouth opened and closed several times, and his face flushed with what looked like a mixture of embarrassment and also an attempt to look indignant. Shaking his head in frustration, he looked back at his work, and began wrapping-up his essay on the practical applications of Pascal's Principle. Within half an hour, he left the shop, even though his work was not completed yet. He had paid for his tea, and then left without a word.

Diz looked at the half-empty mug with a pitiful gaze, before tipping the rest of the tea down the sink.

xxx

As soon as he got home, Zexion made a beeline for his bedroom, and dumped his schoolbag next to his study desk. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he decided that today had been most annoying, what with all those people questioning him about his emotional development. He had never bothered with feelings; they were too troublesome to be dealt with. And even the most complex of the subjects he studied could never match up to the sheer difficulty of handling emotions well.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a loud THUMP! startled him out of his reverie. He very nearly jumped off his bed in surprise, before hearing the groaning and moaning from the other side of the wall behind his headboard. Getting up and walking over to the rather thin wall, he thumped a fist against it.

"Riku, kindly stop trying to break through the wall."

"You're just jealous that I have someone to romp with!" came the haughty reply, somewhat muffled as it moved through the wall, "Sora, where are your manners? Say hello!"

"Hell... Hello..." Sora's voice was heard, "AH!!!"

"Fuck yeah... Take it, bitch!"

"I know that you two would enjoy it a lot, but the sodomy laws were written for a reason, you know."

"Like you're THAT innocent, Zexion... You'd tap Demyx's ass if you could!"

"Wha... I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"You'd probably tie him down, knowing how kinky you are, and you'd do this to him!"

"SHIT!" Sora cried out, just as the bed's headboard slammed against the wall with a particularly loud WHUMP!

"Or maybe something like this!" THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

"RIKUUU!!!"

"HELL, YOU'D SCREW HIM INTO A WHEELCHAIR, YOU... FUCKING... PERV!!!" SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! CRAAACCCKKK!!!

"FUCK-" Sora - a VERY vocal lay if there ever had been one - had his loud groans cut-off halfway by whatever violent and perverse things Riku was putting him through, much to Zexion's relief. And it sounded as if the poor bed had finally been abused to the point of breaking one of its wooden parts, too.

Zexion shook his head in frustration, before walking over to his desk and grabbing his headphones. Plugging them into his ears, he dug around for his CD player. Finding the little machine, he hooked them up, and pressed 'PLAY'. Within seconds, he was blissfully submerged in a world of violins, pianos, and guitars. Sitting down at his desk, he felt something hit one of the little table's legs. Something solid.

Letting out a groan, he tried to think of something that was bland but also engrossing. If there was one thing that was for sure, it was that he most definitely couldn't finish his homework with an erection in his trousers and naughty thoughts of Demyx engaged in the most carnal of acts filling his head.

After nearly ten minutes of mentally running through his History notes and the Periodic Table of the Elements, he finally managed to get his... problem under control. Pulling out his homework once again for the second time that day, he flipped the top-most book open, and sat down to try and make sense of the problem.

The question made no sense.

He read it again, and again. And again. And each time, the words spoken by Diz and Mr. Garland rand out loud in his mind, his perfect memory replaying their words in haunting detail.

"What about last month's outing to the Midgar botanical gardens? Two weeks ago, to the forest reserve? Last week, to catch a movie?"

Extra credit assignments were more important than mere outings to go gallivanting!

"You need to realize, my boy, that studies don't define your teenage life."

Yes, they did!

"You know, you might be book-smart and very civilized in that regard, but you're an emotional caveman."

He had never felt as insulted-

What's the matter, Zexion? Can't handle the truth? You're nothing but a damned machine... Reading, memorizing, studying-

"STOP IT!"

With that, he ripped out his headphones, the sublime notes of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata abruptly giving way to silence, and the vigorous horizontal calisthenics next door also stopped in its tracks. Time seemed to stand still for that short while, given how silent the room was.

Riku's worried voice came through the wall once again, "Zexion, are you alright?"

"What happened?" Sora asked, sounding confused.

For the first time in a while, Zexion was unable to answer a question that had been asked of him.