A/N: Sorry. Delay again. I really have been trying to get these chapters out, but I'm being pulled in every direction.... Damn holidays. :D Thanks to: NicotineGum, kiralover44, whatevergirl, -CNFB-, CaseyAnn'sPrecious, tokidokilove, OvenBased, and KT ! I LOVE YOU ALL! Happy vacation-ness (if you have one...)! This wasn't edited well, but I tried.
It had been difficult at first for Vincent to readjust to being back in Midgar. Things had gone on in his absence, more friendships had formed, stronger than he was capable of ever making. It didn't affect him too much; he was very much used to being on his own, though he had admittedly found a certain comfort in constantly having Sephiroth around. The habit was easily broken, however, when he again realized how different he was from those his age, particularly those in his squad.
He knew he was a loner. He spent his time away from the others whenever possible, choosing books to playing sports out on the blacktop or going often to the private training rooms to both avoid the heat as well as to get practice time in on his own.
He had already trained several times with both Zack and Angeal, more and more often with the Second. Zack had a lot of free time since the Commander hadn't been assigning him to missions much. Zack was easy for him to get along with, as the teen wasn't demanding in any sense, almost always in a good mood, and wanting nothing more than something to do in his spare time.
Vincent had not seen Sephiroth since the day they had arrived over a week ago. He was beginning to wonder if the man had changed his mind about mentoring him. The thought made him nervous, but he did his best not to think about it, grateful that at least Commander Hewley didn't seem to mind training him. If Sephiroth did back out, it would be extremely disappointing, but he knew that just to have the offer in the first place was more than he ever expected.
He was still angry, though it had all definitely subsided. It had almost become an undertone to his daily life. Chaos seemed to be forever lurking, making itself known at the most inconvenient of times, catching Vincent off guard and vulnerable. Sleeping was the worse part, because he knew there had been plenty of nights where he must have shouted in his sleep, as the other boys in his dorm seemed to whisper about him more and more often.
Sex dreams were luckily few and far between, mostly just a repeat of what had happened with Sephiroth, all the way up to the heart wrenching end, where he was left alone naked on his bed, wishing in desperation that the man would return. He didn't like to think about it at all; he didn't have time to focus much on sex, and he certainly didn't need to replay the darker parts of the act in his head.
Classes were more strenuous than the training. Most of the classwork involved group projects where Vincent was constantly left out. He didn't necessarily want to be included, but it was always difficult to explain to professors that none of the other students were interested in working with him. More often than not, he was forced into already-formed groups, where he felt more like a tag along than anything else.
The training from Sephiroth, though brief, proved to be invaluable. He was ahead of the others, not by much, but he knew with time that gap would widen. He was faster than the best in their squad, and his strength after all of the experimentation, was more than comparable. He could hold his own more than ever, which helped make him feel more confident about what he was doing, not as apprehensive.
The gauntlet had gone over badly. Many of the other Thirds thought that it was not only strange, but unfair that he got to choose his own weapon. It had quickly been arranged by their new squad leader that Vincent wear the gauntlet, but still practice with the sword during training sessions on blade tactics. It was somewhat cumbersome, but he wasn't all that unhappy with the arrangement; he knew Commander Hewley had probably had a hand in it, and that it was good that he try to learn the sword more efficiently even if it wouldn't be his primary weapon. He could practice with gauntlet in private.
"Hey, you want to get lunch or something?" Zack asked, doing squats compulsively while Vincent practiced stances with a sword.
They were training yet again, for the second time that day, since they both had free time. It was a Saturday, Zack's 'day off', while Vincent had very minimal exercises to attend, just a run in the morning and one in the afternoon, then another sword lesson afterward.
"Yeah, I guess," Vincent answered, slashing to the side with the heavy broadsword. It didn't feel half as hulking as it had previously. It was almost...light. The change in his strength never ceased to surprise him.
"Cool. Let's go then; I'm getting kind of hungry."
They walked out of the training room, Zack a few paces ahead as usual, running his hands along the doorways as he went. They weren't far from the room when the man Vincent recognized as Genesis rounded a corner, coming their direction. He appeared distracted, staring down at a phone as he almost jogged down the hallway, the red coat billowing behind him. A single earing shone in his right ear, Vincent noticing it easily, as it stood out from the red hair. The man looked up just before he was past them, his eyes becoming calculating. He stopped abruptly, phone forgotten for the moment.
"Sir?" Vincent said, aware that Genesis had not only stopped walking, but was suddenly looking at him very intently.
Vincent's thoughts went back to the incident before Wutai, where he had inadvertently walked in on Genesis training and the man had been none to gentle to him. He had bruises for days afterward, and had been more than a little sore. He was not fond of Genesis, even if he was the friend of both the General and Commander Hewley. The man seemed dangerous, reckless even, and obviously hadn't shown any concern over hurting him. He planned to stay away from the man, when at all possible.
"Hello, Private Valentine." Genesis paused for a moment, then almost as an afterthought: "Fair," he addressed, his blue eyes never once leaving Vincent's darker maroon ones.
It hadn't slipped Genesis's mind that he had met Vincent before. He remembered the Third all too well, the way he had fought so weakly. The boy's face was memorable, pretty even, if one could use such a word. The eyes were far too innocent, too trusting. Easy to hate.
Vincent was the one who had caused Sephiroth to get more than a little angry with him. Genesis had not forgotten, never one to discard trespasses without dealing with them beforehand. How intriguing that the boy should strike up a friendship with Angeal's playful little puppy.
Now was not the time to act, not with Fair around to run his mouth of to Angeal later. No, Genesis knew that he would have to wait, no matter how much he itched to do something...drastic.
"I hope you are feeling better," Genesis said with a secretive smile. He tilted his head slightly, a mocking sort of gesture.
His eyes were piercing for a brief instant, boring into maroon before he brushed past the two SOLDIERs in a rush. He left behind a scent of sweat and anger that Vincent's sensitive nose detected. Rage was practically emanating off of the man, regardless of his bizarre smile.
Genesis was smirking at the walls, his blue eyes darkened somewhat. The boy hadn't even had time to respond to him, or perhaps didn't know how.
"Well, that was weird," Zack stated, looking back over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the First.
"Yes it was," Vincent answered softly, his breathing a little uneven.
There was something very wrong about Genesis.
The air was chilled, more so than Sephiroth was accustomed. Each gust of wind washed over his bare chest, sneaking into the folds of his coat and causing his skin to raise into bumps. His hair kept falling over his shoulder, and he let it, using it as a sort of veil to keep the worst of the weather at bay.
The mission had been very abrupt; he had not even had time to properly prepare, something he was never keen on doing. But this was an instance where time was, as the old saying went, of the essence.
The snow covered peaks were all around, some distant, others seemingly right up next to him, though they were in fact miles upon miles away. The sky was consumed by an ugly clouding of grey, interspersed with streaks of rebellious black and hints of blue. A storm was coming, and he did not have much time. He could smell the ice in the air, feel it in the dryness of each breath he drew in, bringing with several tiny, swirling snowflakes that stuck to the inside of his mouth.
He was on the trail of someone suspected to have a hand in the killing of Hojo's assistant, Renault. Sephiroth himself had been surprised by the assistant's demise; it also caused problems for himself where injections were concerned, but that was something he would have to address later.
AVALANCHE. Tseng was certain it was the group that was at fault. He had more or less told Sephiroth that he believed they had chosen to attempt to take Hojo as a last resort. The uprising must not have had as large of an impact as they had originally intended, thus they were trying to even the score.
Though AVALANCHE was an eco group, they did not consider it beneath them to assist the Wutai, in fact it was thought that some of their members might have been Wutai. They were using the war as a way to pursue their own personal agenda: saving the Planet through any means necessary.
They believed the Shinra Corporation was killing the Planet with the energy plants that were drawing the mako from the ground, slowly draining life from it. According to their philosophies, the Planet was a living being, and by using its life energy as a source of power, it was slowly going to wither, then die, leaving behind a barren wasteland incapable of being a host to life.
They were more an eco terrorist group than anything else. They had killed more than their share of innocents in their attempt to overthrow Shinra. They had also killed a fair amount of SOLDIERs, something that made the mission Sephiroth was on much more personal.
Tseng had suspicions (for reasons he had yet to reveal), that AVALANCHE was going to create its own supersoldiers. Hojo's secretive research was something they were interested in, and for whatever reasons, they had not seemed to think that they could bribe him into their service and were consequently going to take him by force. Unfortunately for them, Hojo had ended before they were able to use him. Renault, it was thought, was taken as second best, but had been killed when he couldn't provide enough about the knowledge they were in search of. It was all theory of course, but none the less, it was what Sephiroth was forced to go by.
Sephiroth buckled a few of the belts on his coat, shaking his head quickly to disperse the snowflakes that kept coating his eyelashes and hair and leaving cold specks of water across his skin. It wasn't much farther.
"W-what are you doing here?" The voice was shaky, fearful. The pupils dilated to huge black orbs, almost overruling the brown irises that surrounded them. "How did you find me?"
"It is my job," Sephiroth answered coldly.
He was standing above the man who was crouching in the snow, having been trying in vain to repair one of the perimeter cameras. The target did not realize that Sephiroth had disabled every single one.
Sephiroth did not move as the man got to his feet in a rush, tripping in the calf-high snow. His eyes were wide, wild even, as he moved over the packed ice, scrambling for purchase. It was only when the man was several feet away that Sephiroth bothered to walk forward, looking entirely in his element. There was nothing that suggested the cold bit at his exposed skin, or that the icy eyes had any feelings besides numbness and apathy. It was like looking upon a man that was more monster than human.
"I don't know what you want...I just work for them. I don't f-follow their creeds, nothing," the man whispered, his lips and jaw showing his shivering.
The pink skin of his mouth had a bluish tinge to it from being exposed to the weather. He was wearing a bulky brown coat lined with some sort of plush, cream colored fur, while his mousy brown hair was slicked back underneath the large hood that only partially obscured his features. It was, Sephiroth knew upon sight, the one he had been sent for.
They were on a slope, one that ascended the nearby mountain and led to a labyrinth of narrow, dark caves. According to the Turks, the barren mountain range was serving as sort of headquarters for AVALANCHE, as Shinra did not have troops placed out so far from civilization and in such a physically trying area. It was a mistake, of course, but it kept SOLDIERs from dying.
Within a few well-placed steps, the General easily caught up to the struggling man, who repeatedly fell onto his hands and knees in his hurry. Sephiroth grabbed him by the back of the coat, before flinging him to the side, a short ways down the slope. The man couldn't keep his balance, more or less shoved face down onto the snow as he toppled.
"I'm not a fighter!" he protested, eyebrows and hair peppered with snow, as he looked up from where he had fallen, laying helplessly on his stomach. He didn't dare try to get up. The snow was freezing; he could feel it even through his thick coat. "I swear, I don't know anything, I'm just one of the tech guys!" He was visibly shaking, both from the cold and extreme fear. He knew all to well about the man who had followed him. He stood no chance, not having even the slightest bit of combat training.
"But yet you were the one who assisted in killing Renault, were you not?" Sephiroth questioned, toneless and impassive.
"I—Look. I didn't have any choice, they were going to kill me, okay? I'm sorry if he was your friend or something, I'm really sorry...I never wanted to kill anybody, I just wanted a job, that's all."
Sephiroth's expression remained one of nothingness, though a deep laugh suddenly echoed through the snow-filled landscape, dark, out of place somehow, even in all the bleakness. It was short, cutting off before it had even truly begun.
"Friend?" Sephiroth seemed to taste the word. "I will kill you. You believe that AVALANCHE could possibly do more to you than I am capable? You will talk or I will cut; it is that complicated and that simple. Entirely your decision of course whether or not it takes one slash or twenty."
The man swallowed nervously, his hands curling inside the sleeves of his coat to avoid the cold that was inevitably seeping in. "I don't know much," he confessed, his eyes darting to the impassive green whose gaze he could not bear to hold.
"Tell me what you do know."
"Hey, Cloud, right?" Zack asked, inviting himself to sit at the otherwise empty table.
The cafeteria was bustling, SOLDIERs everywhere, of all ranks, given that it was the so-called 'day off'. Some of the guard were there as well, most huddled in the corners avoiding interpersonal contact for the most part, just observing the strange people and surroundings quietly, even though they had already been on base for a short while. Many of the SOLDIERs seemed to ignore them for the most part, though many had originated from the ranks of the guard themselves.
"Yeah," the blonde responded, his blue eyes traveling to Vincent who seemed unsure as to whether or not he should sit down as Zack had.
"Do you mind if we sit with you?" Vincent questioned, deciding to be more polite about it than the Second had been.
He wasn't particularly interested in sitting with someone he didn't know, but he knew it was basically too late to back out. He would be eating lunch alone if he didn't stay with Zack, and he was alone so much as it was....
"It's not like anyone else is going to," Cloud said drearily, looking down at the plastic tray in front of him that had been sloppily filled with food by one of the servers.
Vincent took a seat across from the blonde, watching Zack, who was already shoveling food down. The other teen, Cloud, was giving him a few awkward glances, so he took the initiative to introduce himself.
"Vincent Valentine," he stated softly, extending a hand.
Cloud shook it warily in a barely there grip, eyes going to the gauntlet that covered over a good part of his left arm. The blonde was apparently too shy to ask about it, and settled for just looking at it curiously a few times before pushing around some applesauce.
"So you're Cloud?" Vincent asked in clarification, since it didn't seem like the guard was going to say anything else.
"Yeah. Cloud Strife." His strikingly blue eyes darted across the table for a minute before returning to Vincent. "Sorry if I seem rude, I've just had a busy day," he added as an afterthought.
"I know how that goes," Zack commented with a loud sigh, eyeing the energy drink he had just opened.
Vincent only shook his head, a small smile hidden behind the black hair that kept drifting into his vision seemingly of its own accord. As if Zack needed more energy.
There was a long silence, in which Zack chewed loudly, and slurped at his drink, and Cloud seemed to be counting the linoleum floor tiles. Vincent just ate his food, not really worried about it; it seemed everywhere he went there were long delays in speech. Either no one wanted to talk to him, or they didn't want to talk in front of him, one of the two. The Second was completely unaware of the tension at the table, biting into a graham cracker with some noisy crunches.
With Zack, such quietness could never last long. "So you ever going to ditch that broadsword, or are you going to go Angeal style?"
"I don't really do well with the katanas or anything lighter," he replied, noticing that Cloud had stopped eating to listen.
"Yeah, you do seem to be doing better with it now. But you could use something a little more well made. I was thinking maybe we could go into the city if you get clearance and try to find you something that might work easier. There are a couple of places, if you know where to look," Zack said conversationally.
"That sounds like a good idea," Vincent agreed, seeing how Cloud was looking more awkward than ever. He was more than aware of what it was like to be the outsider with nothing to say. Feeling somewhat guilty, he decided to change the course of conversation. "How's your training going?" he asked, looking at the guard in question.
The blonde seemed a bit taken aback, but after a few seconds swallowed down his food and managed to recover: "Uh, it's...not too bad." He looked between the two SOLDIERs for a moment, looking nervous. "It's better than I thought. I was kind of disappointed not to meet the General though," he admitted, breaking eye contact.
"Sephiroth syndrome. I remember you said you wanted to meet him," Zack said with a grin. "Normal around here. I thought you would get to at least see him by now, but the firsts are busy lately. Who knows, maybe you'll get taken on mission with one of them."
"Really?" Cloud asked, sounding doubtful.
"Yeah, I mean from what Angeal has said all of the Firsts have been taking guards with them on almost every new mission. I'm surprised you didn't hear about it."
"I don't really know anyone," Cloud murmured. "I was bunked alone."
"Not a bad thing," Vincent said softly with a half smile. "The barracks here make it very cramped. I have some really messy squad mates, and at times you can't get through to your bunk with all of the things they pile on the floor."
Cloud smiled back, looking amused. Vincent could tell the guard was finally relaxing, looking a lot less troubled. It seemed he wasn't the only one who had difficulties finding his place amongst a group of SOLDIERs.
"Even Sephiroth is taking guards with him?" Cloud asked hopefully, his face flushing somewhat.
Vincent noticed the embarrassment, thinking back to his own interest with the General. Hadn't he been the exact same way, and wasn't he still? Sephiroth seemed to cause uncertainty and intrigue wherever he went. It was considered an everyday occurrence for the lesser ranks (and even the higher ranks, Vincent decided) to look up to him in an extreme sort of way. He really was a hero in that sense.
"I guess so. Can't see why not if everyone else is. Angeal said he is taking two on his next mission." Zack looked a little less than enthusiastic about that admission, but it was negated by the happy expression that passed over Cloud's face. "I could put in the word for you if you want," the Second said trying to sound nonchalant and failing incredibly.
"No, that's alright. I think I'll just stick around and see what happens," the blonde answered, looking over to Vincent again.
"Missions aren't what they seem at first glance," Vincent stated, his mind swirling in nostalgia.
Vincent wasn't sure if he was even ready to go on mission. The thought brought back memories of blood sprayed across buildings and mangled corpses. Missions were not pretty things, but he knew he would have to face them sooner or later.
He couldn't help but think it was probably better that it would be later.
A/N: Next update will probably be a day late again, given that it's Christmas and all---though I will definitely try to get out a chapter. There was a wierd part in the last chapter I thought I should mention. Genesis says: "He is rather sweet and defenseless looking—I saw his picture—perfect for someone with such complexes as yours..." He's already met Vincent before, if you remember. So I am going to go back and remove "I saw his picture" since it just doesn't sound right. I don't know why I wrote it like that. It was late and I was planning on mentioning something later about a photo but it didn't work out. Ah well. Pretend you never read that part of the sentence! *brainwashes* O.o