A/N: Some of this came from the Karate Kid movies, because I thought this premise would be logical for Wutain society. Anything which looks 'Karate Kid'-ish belongs to them, not to me, and I'm not making money off it!

Practice Makes...

Vincent eyed Rufus with annoyance as the blond demanded, "Train me in more things than just a few repetitive moves!"

"Repetitive. Which you still haven't put the effort into perfecting so you can move on," the undead Turk replied, his red eyes flashing despite how he held himself completely still.

"But it's boring to only do those over and over again," Rufus whined.

"You swore when you picked up your mother's cane that you would learn to use it properly," Vincent told him flatly. "The same was true of you deciding on dual daggers. Whether you like it or not, until you've perfected those 'beginner' moves, you won't be able to properly perform the ones which come later—they require more experience and a sure hand with the basics. Also, those 'basics' are the ones you need to be able to do without thinking about them, because they're ultimately the ones which are going to save your life in a pinch. If you're being attacked by a legitimate threat and can't properly use them, your survival likelihood drops significantly. In short, the sooner you perfect them, the sooner we can move on. Apply yourself or quit and let me have my free time back."

"I don't see how the basics are so important to the later moves," the blond young man glared. "They're different moves, but the later ones are more variable—there's more to do."

Vincent pinched the bridge of his nose for a long moment, then asked, "Do you know how about half of Wutai learns martial arts?"

"No, but what does that have to do with this?" Rufus asked, and when Vincent looked at him, he looked utterly bewildered.

"Most of Wutai's martial artists are their common civilians," the black haired man informed his student. "They don't learn martial arts in schools or through special training—Tseng is one of the 'group' who had formal training. Everyone else learned it by doing repetitive chores—painting a fence in a very specific way, washing a window in a very specific way, washing a floor in a very specific way. It forced them to repeatedly use a motion so many times that when they saw an attack aimed at them, the motion came naturally to them, with precision and force. There was no time wasted on thinking, they simply did it. That is what makes them so formidable. And all most of them know are the very basics of martial arts—motions they use all the time, nothing more."

The blond blinked several times as he processed the words, then asked slowly, "Are you telling me our well-trained army has been being beaten back by a random bunch of raw beginners?"

"To begin with, the Infantry are a pathetically-trained army, not a well-trained one, despite what Heidegger says," Vincent answered, brow raised. "SOLDIER and the Turks have real training, and even they get stymied by those 'raw beginners'. But that's because they aren't either 'raw beginners' or disorganized. You're defining the words the wrong way. The people of Wutai all have intermediate status at the very least, just not a very large repertoire of moves. The number of different motions you can perform in combat doesn't define your skill level, it's how well you can use what you know. And most of the more complex moves are created by merging two or more basic ones, so even at that, most Wutains 'could' use many more moves than they do."

"But a potter isn't painting fences for a living," the blond pointed out. "Even if what you say is true, too many of the population there don't perform all of those tasks on a regular basis."

"Do you know the motions a potter makes when forming clay on a turn-table?" the older man asked curiously.

"No, only that it would depend on what they're making," Rufus blinked.

"Somewhat," Vincent agreed. "But a common vase shape is narrow at the bottom, wide above that, narrow above that, and wide again at the top, like a wave." Vincent demonstrated the motion with his hands, then stepped closer to Rufus and had him repeat the motion several times. He then reached up to grasp the younger man around the neck with enough force to be felt—and to alarm the blond. "Now, use that motion with force to try to break my hold on you."

"But—" the blond began in alarm.

"Try it," the older man repeated, tightening his grip a bit.

Rufus hissed—but used his hands in the motion he'd been shown to bring them up between Vincent's arms, grab him around the back of the neck, and pull his head downward. While it didn't have nearly the force to do more than cause him to stoop slightly, it was enough of a disruption to force his hands to loosen, and Rufus pulled free and jumped back, looking warily at the older man. As the younger man stood several feet back from him, rubbing his neck, he eyed the Turk with an odd thoughtfulness.

Finally, Rufus said slowly, "It would have been much more effective had I been more familiar with the motion."

"It would have," Vincent agreed. "Though it was still effective enough for you to escape my hold, and you know already that's not easy. This is why you need to keep repeating basics until they're ingrained into your body, your muscle memory, not just your mind."

"Then change it up and add some of those basics of martial arts, too," Rufus said suddenly. When Vincent frowned, thinking he'd gotten none of the point, the blond said, "Vincent, don't just train me with one weapon at a time, let me have my cane, my daggers, my gun, and my fists and feet, and switch between what would be the most appropriate reaction. Let me train in the motions for all of them at the start of the lesson, then mix their use in training so it's not all about just one of them for hours on end. I need to be adaptable, and that should allow enough variety that I'll stick to basics and not complain so much."

"'So much'?" the undead Turk asked with a raised brow as he thought about the proposition.

"I don't think you could cure me of it completely, but it will be much less if I have more variety at once," the younger man said wryly.

That Rufus had decided to add martial arts to it after seeing a potter's fighting move was something, but if mixing and matching would make him stick to basics, there was validity to the element of adaptability. "All right, we'll try that for awhile. If it goes well with less hassle, we'll keep to it."

"Thank you," Rufus said, sounding relieved. Vincent began to wonder what kind of life he'd had that he couldn't stand necessary repetition to such an extent.

"That being the case, you have some new moves to learn today, and our next meeting will be canceled while I work out a new method for your training. Attend the one following as usual and we'll start with the new schedule," the Turk said.

"That's fair. For today, then, what else am I learning?" the younger man asked.

Vincent held in a sigh as he began showing the blond some other common combat moves done solely with one's hands and feet.

MB

Cloud and Sephiroth ended up eating before talking, Tifa's food smelled so good. It was also then when the blond realized every emotion he saw in the man's expression was due to being hyper-aware of his presence and state, not because those emotions and expressions showed openly to the average person. In that, Turks were likely to notice far more expression from him than most people would have, and he began to wonder if this emotion Genesis would have seen before they all went insane was part of the reason he'd trusted him so much.

Finally, when they were nearly done eating, Sephiroth asked slowly and cautiously, "There was a reason you wanted to be somewhere you could speak freely. Have you been experimented on?"

Sighing, Cloud told him mulishly, "In this lifetime, no. Not yet, at least, though I wouldn't put it past Hojo to try."

The man was silent for a moment before asking, "What happened in that future?"

For a minute, the blond boy just stared at his plate, but then said, "I tried for SOLDIER when I was fourteen, but was denied, so I joined the Infantry. I couldn't go home, and some part of me still hoped I'd get into SOLDIER if I tried again...But I never made it anywhere but in my own head. Things went bad and you nearly killed someone who had been your friend, and I attacked you. In theory, without Hojo's intervention, we would both have died. Well, in your case, I don't think 'died' was the right word. He experimented on both your friend and me for four years, then labeled us both failed experiments after we escaped. Or really...He—the friend you nearly killed—escaped and took me with him. I had Mako poisoning so bad it was a miracle I hadn't become a Makonoid. He carried around a dead weight for a year before he died..."

"And?" a wide-eyed Sephiroth asked in something like horror.

Again, Cloud was silent for a minute, then said, "I won't go into details, but his death kick-started my mind and body into moving again, but it was based on his memories and I thought I was a SOLDIER. I was sort of a blend of him and me, more him early on than me. That started the fight against Shinra, and against you when you showed us you weren't quite dead. During that time, I realized what I had done to myself and how much of my memory had never been mine to start with. What I've been left with will probably never be a complete memory—of my entire life, not just of the time I had poisoning. But that time, my fighting and 'killing' you was deliberate and I survived it just fine. Of course, that was after Hojo had shattered my mind and I had to try to put it back together to stop you."

"That was a deliberate thing, no doubt. He quite enjoys seeing people suffer," Sephiroth offered, still looking ill. "Why did you need to stop me?"

"You were trying to destroy the world," Cloud answered flatly, and Sephiroth pinched the bridge of his nose, hiding his expression. "The third time, a few years later, you just wanted me, to see me suffer. The last words you spoke to me when I defeated you were 'I will never be only a memory.' It was honestly creepy, especially since that time you were actually obsessed with me."

The hand dropped from the older man's nose and he stared at Cloud with wide eyes. "I cannot revive in such a manner. How was that even possible?"

"You accepted Jenova as your 'mother', and as long as you and she both wanted the world destroyed, she gave you whatever power you wanted," the boy answered. "But the very problem is the 'destroying the world' part."

"That it is..." Sephiroth sighed, shaking his head. "He...that other me...sounds more akin to a deity than a human. Acquiring such power could be useful, but not when used in such a way. I always made every attempt to protect my troops and any civilians nearby, so that sounds very much outside my character. How could I have become such a person?"

"It's not easy to refuse Jenova when she's in your head, to be fair, and it still took her a week and the fake data Hojo planted at the Nibel Lab for you to go ape-shit insane on the world," the blond offered warily.

The man's gaze moved to a distant point somewhere off to the side as he thought about things, but finally lowered his head and said, "I do not wish to become that kind of man, regardless of the power it would give me. My power will be my own only, and my priority is seeing to my people and my troops. Their well-being is far more important than any amount of power."

"And saying that makes you a better man than the President."

A silence fell as the two sat in thought, Cloud wrapped in memories and Sephiroth puzzling something out. Finally, the man asked, "How were you and I apparently able to resist her, when it sounds as though she had complete control of me?"

"She didn't have control of you, you had control of her," Cloud told him with a raised brow, and he blinked in surprise. "But you had already been conned into thinking her goals were correct, and never let that go. Your willpower is actually strong enough when powered by her genetics to overcome hers. For some reason, she liked that. In my case...I just had too many people to avenge and protect, and I'm as stubborn as a mule when I want to be. I also apparently have some natural resistance to her cells, and to yours. But, that body isn't this one, and none of those experiments have been done on me this time, so my resistance would be completely my own this time."

"...You have made me sound more monster than man," the silver haired man commented, sounding tired suddenly.

"You're a man like any other," the blond bit out. "And it was exactly you thinking you weren't 'a man like any other' that you went ape-shit insane in the first place, so the first step to never becoming a monster is to remind yourself you're a man, a human being."

Sephiroth looked taken aback by the words, but after a long silence, he asked, "Is that still true with my genetics and my super-human skills?"

"My only current enhancement is Mako, so I'm completely human and I nearly knocked you flat, even when I was already exhausted," the boy replied sharply. "Some people are better than others at some things, sometimes even at many things. That doesn't make them any less human, it just means they have a particular natural skill. In most cases, all it takes to 'look' super-human is to have the interest in learning something and a teacher. You had excellent teachers and a fantastic education, even if it wasn't the life of an actual 'child' you lived because of it. What you know, you learned, just like all the rest of us, and the only reason you got that training when the rest of the world didn't is because Hojo forced it on you, which he didn't do to anyone else. You are just as human as we are, and a man like any other."

After a long, surprised silence, Sephiroth smiled faintly and said, "Thank you, Cloud, for helping to put that into perspective for me. It was also similar to what Genesis said when he pointed out that we are ourselves, genetics aside, and it is a relief to know there are people who do see a man like any other when they look at me. In your case especially, given what that other me did to you."

For a long moment, as Fenrir held his figurative breath in the back of his mind, Cloud assessed what to reply with, but finally released a breath and told the man across from him, "Fear aside, I much prefer the man you are now. I just need to get used to it."

The words made the silver haired man smile faintly again as he said, "As I intend to stay the man I am now, you should have that time. I will look forward to the day when you no longer fear me."

That caused the blond a momentary wry smile—but sudden swearing as a Turk fell to the floor drew both his and Sephiroth's attention to the disturbance. That turned out to be a shocked Tifa looking over the counter at Sirra as she obviously looked disoriented. Cloud realized she was Confused and looked around in alarm for someone who could cancel the effect.

When he saw Eonna, he yelled above the commotion, "Eonna, Dispel the Confuse state, before she hurts someone!" The woman blinked, glanced at him, then returned her gaze to Sirra and cast the spell to negate the effect.

Sirra just lay there panting for a minute before asking, "What the fuck was that, Teef?"

"I didn't do it! I swear it! I'm not even wearing my Materia, I gave them to the racc—" Tifa began, then stopped suddenly and turned to look at the raccoon in the corner of the counter and slowly finished, "—oon because she liked the shiny things..."

Everyone in the room stopped to stare, first at her, then at the raccoon, who honestly looked like she was grinning as one Materia orb glowed more brightly than the others she had in front of her.

Sirra swore again and called, "Eonna, get rid of the damned Blindness! What the fuck does that thing have against me?"

"...Umm...Maybe because you were sort-of being rude to me?" Tifa asked slowly. As the orb glowed again, she sighed and took it away from the raccoon, telling her, "Stop that! These people aren't bad people, and you can't use these on them!"

The raccoon looked at her like she was crazy (everyone got the impression she was telling Tifa, "Of course I can cast on them!"), then picked a different Materia. It caused a patch of ice to grow under Sirra, which made the woman glare, mutter curses under her breath, and carefully move off it before standing.

"When it casts spells, those spells follow different rules," Sirra commented once she'd risen. Tifa was still staring at the Materia the raccoon held.

"So...What are you going to name her if she's apparently sticking with you?" Doriss asked curiously as she moved over to the counter and eyed the small, fluffy creature curiously.

"I really wasn't sure about that, but I think after seeing her do that, I'm calling her Hex," the dark haired girl commented, which produced laughs from the others in the room.

"A lot of people have new pets lately, don't they?" Cloud asked suddenly, and several people snickered.

"Count Reno, too, because Hex's brother moved in with him today, too," Tifa replied in amusement. "At least Hex is milder. Though she's turning out to be pretty dangerous now that she has Materia to play with."

"I didn't even know animals could cast spells with Materia," Lenno commented.

It was Sephiroth who said, "Hex is not the only animal I have seen cast spells with Materia—my mentee, Kal, has a fox pet who wears a collar with Materia slots specifically so he can cast with them to help her fight. He does so very well, as well. As in—Genesis level of casting."

Everyone went cross-eyed as they realized that effectively made the fox a Mage, but decided enough was enough and just called welcomes and greetings to Hex, their new unofficial 'Turk Mage'. Which, of course the raccoon was also a Turk, because Tifa was. Cloud just shook his head in amusement as Sephiroth watched in surprise.

"Kal being a SOLDIER has not made Akira an honorary SOLDIER. How did Hex become an honorary Turk just because Tifa is one?" the General of SOLDIER asked curiously.

"Probably because Turks don't work the same way as SOLDIERs do, and they all think Hex is adorable," Cloud answered in amusement. "Well, except maybe Sirra."

"That, I would not blame her for. At least Akira knew I was not Kal's enemy."

"Sirra isn't Tifa's. She's just generally rude and blunt and doesn't really care about others' opinions of her. Apparently, Hex took exception to that. Why does Akira have a Wutain name?"

"Kal gave it to him after realizing the Wutain fox kit she had been 'gifted' was unnaturally intelligent."

"I see."

After a long silence, Sephiroth turned his full attention back to Cloud and asked, "You will not clarify for me who I killed, other than attempting to kill you and someone who had once been a friend of mine?"

"No. Like I said, Genesis had a reason for not telling you, and to be fair, when the President dropped the Sector Seven Plate, he killed a lot more people than you did," Cloud answered dryly.

With a sigh, the man agreed, "That is fair. Him having not evacuated the people was merely a study in cruelty, and easily hundreds of thousands died."

"I guess that's the difference, though...Generally trying to destroy the world would have killed everyone, but you were stopped. No one ever bothered to stop the President from any of the things he did which resulted in many people's deaths," the blond answered. "So in terms of actual death toll, the President is a much more significant threat. To make matters worse, he knowingly killed his own people, and he acknowledged them as 'his own people'. By the time you started killing people, you didn't see anyone on the Planet as 'yours' anymore. Believe it or not, that perspective and what it means for those who died makes a difference."

"Not a significant one," Sephiroth replied flatly. "I even moved Wutain civilians out of areas where I knew a battle was due to take place, and Wutains were never 'my people'. They were non-combatants, so I moved them. To hear you say at any time that I did not—whether I saw them as 'my people' or not should have made no difference. It is still a hard blow."

"Okay, but again, are you one to judge that when you're not currently insane?"

"It only means I am able to judge those actions as a sane man looking at an insane one, much as you are. And I cannot associate those actions with me. To know I could ever become such..." Sephiroth fell silent again, then said with a sigh, "I do not blame you for fearing me if that was what you knew of me."

"General Sephiroth. Really?" a familiar voice asked from beside the table, sounding annoyed, and Cloud groaned.

"Rufus," he sighed. "You couldn't have waited for even five more minutes?"

"Why should I do that?" Rufus asked in something like bemusement, pulling out a seat and sitting between the two, followed by a clearly wary Vincent as he took the final seat across from Rufus. "I'm hungry, and Tifa's food is some of the best to be had. This is the first time I've actually envied the Turks. You should be joining me for training, though, in case you ever need to fight."

Cloud sighed again and said, "I just spent over an hour sparring with Weiss, and holding my own against him while fighting at full strength—him as well. He's not weak by any means, and is probably around Sephiroth's level of skill, if not better."

"So you're combat-prepared?" Rufus asked curiously as Vincent and Sephiroth traded looks.

"About as much as I can be," Cloud agreed in bemusement.

"How often did you repeat basic drills with your weapons?" the older blond asked.

"Um...Do you want me to try to put a number to something I did probably hundreds of times daily as a matter of course?" the younger blond asked in bemused confusion, and the older blond's eyes widened in surprise.

"...Hundreds of times...daily...And you were able to just keep doing that?"

"...Rufus...Even when making my combat star, I practiced pulling the blades free and resetting them hundreds of times because I had to be sure there was never going to be a problem with retrieving them. When I had a friend of a sort who used a combat star as a weapon, I practiced with her and she showed me how to use one, at least the basics. Which we both repeated hundreds of times every time we sparred, which was no less than once a week, and I still ran drills with other weapons in the meantime. It's not something you can fore-go if you want to be truly effective with your chosen weapon or weapons," Cloud explained.

"General!" Rufus whined. "Surely you don't practice basic motions so much!"

At the words, Sephiroth sighed and said, "Mr. Shinra, I run drills with my troops for no less than an hour each day, sometimes up to three. Those are repetitive patterns of basic skills, which I lead and perform. We do those drills like clock-work on all but one day each week, regardless of rank, and only being away on a mission allows exclusion. Unless you have gone to train with Genesis' unique group, and he notoriously does not go to those, so others he trained, in a sense, lead it. How he keeps his own skills up privately, I do not know, though as a rule, he takes a significantly greater number of missions than the average SOLDIER."

For a long minute, Rufus sat there, staring at him in shock as Vincent looked smug. "You were saying, Rufus?" the undead Turk asked, and Cloud realized Rufus had been trying to get out of the necessary repetition required of those in combat positions.

Turning back to Cloud, Rufus bluntly said, "You could have at least helped me find ways out of repetitive practice, Little Brother."

A bemused Cloud eyed a shocked Sephiroth as the boy commented, "You didn't ask me that, you asked me how many repetitions of drills I did. Besides, even asking me to get you out of necessary practice would just have resulted in me calling you an idiot."

"...I hate you..." Rufus pouted, in much the way all children claimed to hate their parents due to not having gotten their way. Marlene and Denzel hadn't done it often, but to say they had never done so—Cloud didn't think there was such a thing as a child who had never done it. For Rufus to be pulling that at his age, though...He was definitely still at least somewhat in the 'brat' phase.

The response made Cloud snort in amusement as Vincent and Sephiroth blinked. "Keep telling yourself that, Big Brother, and maybe one day, you'll believe it." The response obviously annoyed Rufus. Cloud then looked at Sephiroth again and said, "And you never repeat that, especially not to Hojo or the President, all right, General?"

"I shall not," Sephiroth agreed. "But...brothers?"

"Half-brothers," Cloud shrugged. "The President sleeps around. A lot."

All of them sighed at that, just as Tifa arrived with food for Rufus.