Title: Back on the Road Again

Theme: #4, Rainy Day

*

The tapping of the rain on the gigantic panes of glass was insignificant. The rumbling growl of thunder was a nuisance, but ignorable. The lightning however, bothered him. The crackling discharge scattered around them from the lightning rods erected just a floor or two above them at the very top of the Shinra Headquarters. He'd have rather conducted this meeting elsewhere, in places more accommodating to his work, but Sephiroth was adamant and the President had been inclined to grant Sephiorth's request.

"Disgusting."

Sephiroth just looked at him with cool eyes, betraying nothing. Hmph.

There'd been days in the past that face hadn't been so composed. Hadn't been so calm when Hojo stood over him. He'd seen fear then. Stark terror from a child born to be greatest scientific breakthrough since the discovery of mako. Before the conditioning. Before the training. Before a very many things.

He'd have liked to see such terror in that face now. See this arrogant young man that the solemn-eyed boy had grown up into understand exactly who it was that tugged his strings, who still the hand of control. Even though his experiment wouldn't return to the labs like he was supposed to after his initial release into the outside, even though he refused to breed and dallied instead with those boys of his, Hojo still controlled him, and he wanted it ingrained in the great General Sephiroth's mind.

"You will have to be more specific."

The words were cool, calm, rigidly polite. And Hojo hated them. They were not adorned with even a single 'sir' to denote Sephiroth's acceptance of Hojo's superiority, that he was doctor, master, father.

Father.

Ha.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha.

What would he do if ever found out, the great General Sephiroth? Hojo could imagine it, just for the look on the man's face. Would that perfect little mask of his crack? Would he say what he truly thought for once?

The thought was a tempting one, but only for a moment. It was foolish to think of merely human gratification. Hojo had better things in mind for Sephiroth, bigger plans, greater feats and larger hoops for his greatest specimen to jump through. Once he knew more, perhaps then he could have the satisfaction of taking apart this prototype, tearing him open by the seams with the neat, tidy lines of the scalpel and building something better, something greater than this disrespectful trash.

But calm, calm. He was only a specimen. Hardly reason enough for a man of genius to work himself up over.

"Your choice of companionship," he replied instead, feeding the age-old strife between them. "Useless and disgracing."

"They have names."

"Forgettable names." His lips curled. Oh he remembered them, all right. Zack Fair. Cloud Strife. A nauseatingly matched pair if he ever saw one, right down to their surnames. If he had his way he would so enjoy erasing them as he had Sephiroth's.

There was no answer to that for a moment, but there was that humming of barely-contained anger in the air around the silver-haired man, the inhuman eyes narrowed and even colder than before.

Hojo didn't care. His mind was busy considering the results scratched out in ink on his sheets. Another flare of lightning and a gust of wind spattering the rain loudly against the glass distracted him again. How annoying. Hojo had always been of the opinion that such things should happen in a well-ordered, timely fashion. Contained and tightly controlled and under the most rigid of circumstances.

He turned his thoughts forcefully back to the matter at hand; consulting the charts, briefly consulting several of his notes. Oh yes, his experiments were moving along quite well indeed—

"But not enough to escape your attention."

Hojo looked up irritably. Now really, Sephiroth should know better than to speak while Hojo was in the midst of utilizing his genius. The man complied so very well in this very small thing most of the time, why must he interrupt now with inane chatter?

…Ah. The boy.

It was a challenge. Hojo's thin smile widened, delighted. The man's chafing at his bonds meant he knew they were there. A victory of sorts in and of itself, "Oh hardly because of their own merits," he replied. And that was true enough. The one had too much heart and the other… well… the other was simply a mess. Hojo had seen the psych tests. Idly he'd wondered if the boy would come out of the round of first injections with his brain leaking from his ears.

Pity. He'd have loved to see Sephiroth's face if such a thing came to pass.

"You know I have to maintain strict records of my specimens' environments," he added. "You are hardly the exception to the rule."

Sephiroth had grown complacent. Confident in his position at Shinra. This experiment would not provide him with any new data. Perhaps it was time to set in motion the other plan, the greatest one.

Perhaps it was time for Sephiroth to meet his Mother.

…Oh what data he could gather from that.

Reunion.

It was enough to make any man of science giddy at the mere thought. Hojo could only wonder why it had taken him this long to decide. It certainly wasn't paternal instinct.

*

"How'd it go?"

Zack could no more hide the undertones of worry than Cloud could hide it in his downcast features. But that was hardly new. It was the way things had been lately; Zack refused to stay away and Cloud refused to look at him.

"It went." Sephiroth replied shortly.

Something about that meeting was off. Very off. More so than they had been every other time he'd been forced back to Hojo for his semi-regular tests. His mind screamed trap but he couldn't decipher why.

"To the nearest mako reactor to drown itself in screaming agonies or up into the air to sing its own praises?"

That was Zack for you. Even in the tensest situations, he could always think of something to say, no matter how strained he sounded.

"I'm sure you can guess." He paused, "Pack. We ship out at 0500."

"New mission? Already?"

"Yes. Pack." His eyes turned to Cloud, and again there was that feeling of uneasiness. Hojo had specifically requested them both. "You too."

The blond's eyes jerked up to him for a brief instant before slipping down, to examine the scuffing on his coat instead. "Where?"

"Nibelheim."

Cloud went white. "I—"

"I know."

"Seph…"

"I know."

Later, when he was back in his own quarters, he could lean against the wall, close his eyes, think. Not about the impending mission, that could wait. No, there were more important things. The look on Cloud's face, for one.

Sephiroth had left off apologizing—actually saying the words instead of mouthing them into the other's skin—for far too long.

He had excuses. His skill did not lie in speech. He couldn't even be certain he knew what he would say now. And he did not wish to undo all the good that had been done.

Time.

But that was all they were. Excuses. And Sephiroth was not a coward. He would say them, wouldn't let this thing he wanted to keep so badly slip away simply because he refused to relinquish his pride to those who mattered most.

Just a little more time.

When they reached the town then. Far away from the prying eyes, the knowing sneers, from Midgar's influence. From the dark, choking clouds and the rain lashing the windows. There he could. There he would.

Please.

He could fix things. Somehow. Couldn't he?

End

*

:O I finished! Actually finished something! It's been so long, maybe a year, maybe more that I actually started something multi-chaptered… and finished! Squee! It's… not a happy ending in the least, but… but… D: Yes. I'm a little meh on it still, but I will look it over later. For now, I have a few hours of FFXII to play before I get down on the studying.