"Hello, Sephiroth."
"Good Morning, Mr President."
"Well well, I see Professor Hojo has made your eyes even more striking. How very interesting."
I stared at President Shinra's chin. "Thank you, Mr President."
"And how will you be demonstrating your prize specimen for us today, eh Hojo? I've been looking forward to a show."
Hojo had the smile of a man who had started writing grant applications well before he'd finished undergrad. It was a kind of strained sycophancy that strived and ultimately failed to conceal how far below him the idiot with all the money was.
"He's finished acclimating to his first round of Mako. If you will observe, Mr President, the improvements since his last demonstration are significant. The increase in strength, agility, and overall reflexes are quite promising. Even with only a single round, he is beginning to outstrip a SOLDIER Second Class enhanced with the old methods. With your permission?"
President Shinra waved one huge bear paw.
"Go on then, Sephiroth. Show President Shinra the fruits of Project S."
"Of course, Director Hojo," I answered, expression smooth and polite.
"First Class Reed, if you please. To first blood, keep the damage within the limits of a Curaga."
The SOLDIER First Class Reed was probably irritated to have been pulled aside from his work to play training dummy, but he couldn't exactly express that in front of the supreme leader of our beautiful corporate oligarchy. Therefore, he was the very picture of professionalism as he nodded at Hojo, saluted the President, then joined me in trotting out of the observation room and down a set of stairs into the sparring ring.
We faced each other in the ring. Our eyes met. A silent understanding passed between the two of us that this was an absolute nonsense pony show put on for the President in order to secure more funding for SOLDIER and the Science Department, and that Reed would be letting me off as easy as he could while still appearing to put up a First Class fight.
Reed raised a broadsword embedded with a veritable treasury of materia. I reached over my shoulder and unsheathed my katana, bringing it up into a guard position.
"Pardon me," I muttered, too quietly for Hojo or the President to hear, and sprang at Reed.
Our swords clashed. His standard issue SOLDIER broadsword clashed against my katana. I disengaged and sprang back, bringing a hand up and casting a Fira. Reed backflipped out of the way flashily and met me with a Blizzaga. I took advantage of the steam created to come at his left side with a lightning fast swipe of my katana. Reed blocked, but not before I left a hair-thin scrape on his bicep. Our eyes met. He nodded at me again. When he disengaged, he came at me with a flurry of spells that forced me to bounce around the breadth of the sparring arena. I countered some and dodged others. After enough spells had been cast that Reed had to have be winded, I countered with a Blizzard that he vaporised quickly, followed by a Thunder that sent sparks sizzling through the small mass of steam around him. He was hit, but brushed it off and guarded easily when I came at him with a hard and fast series of blows. I took a few scrapes that started healing immediately, but the blood that they'd spilt made me seem more hurt than I actually was. Taking advantage of the walls of the sparring ring, I struck Reed as high as I could with my diminished stature, then took advantage of our locked blades to spring back and give myself the momentum to spring up against the wall and to bounce against the sides of the arena several times until I was directly over his head, at which time I jabbed downwards at the back of his neck.
A rush of wind and a faint stinging registered against my cheek as his sword barely missed skewering my head. Similarly, I gave him a wardrobe malfunction that unzipped diagonally all the way down the back of his sexy sleeveless turtleneck sweater and left a deep gash running from his shoulder blade to his hip. The edges of the cut were clean and smooth, as befitting a well sharpened blade like my katana, but as Reed clutched at his top, the threads were tugged loose and unravelling. He kept his sword raised one handed and tried to hold the two sides of the new seam I'd created for him together with the other, which meant tugging on the loose threads, which meant that soon enough, he had a tangle of loose woollen string and a half disintegrated crop top.
"Stop!" Hojo called. I landed on my feet and immediately sprang back. Similarly, Reed took a step backwards and lowered his weapon. President Shinra's hand was just retreating back from what had probably been a wave that stopped our little pony show.
"You're a funny little bugger, aren't you," Shinra hummed, eyeing Reed's destroyed uniform top. Hojo laughed politely. Even insane evil geniuses had to bend to the source of their funding.
I sheathed my katana and bowed to Shinra.
"Thank you, Mr President." I used my best customer service voice.
"Not many Seconds can hold their own against Reed like that," Hojo said meaningfully. "With another round of mako, Sephiroth should very well transcend the highest ever recorded levels of successful mako enhancements in any SOLDIER to date."
"And compared to other projects?" The President tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"He outstrips them too," Hojo said. "Not even the Deepground projects are as strong, stable, and receptive to mako as he is. He will be the pinnacle of mako enhancements. Once he has been perfected, he will be able to lead us-" Hojo paused, then glanced at Reed and I. "-straight into Wutai."
President Shinra chortled at how Hojo censored himself from mentioning the Promised Land in front of me and Reed. Too bad I already knew all about the unhinged nonsense Old Man Shinra believed in.
"Very promising, my friend. Very promising indeed. I look forward to Project S's next review," President Shinra said, then stood. Hojo made a shooing gesture at Reed and I as if we were small annoying insects to be gotten rid of, then followed the President out the door, presumably to continue the discussion in private. The small group of Turks guarding the President bookended them as they exited into the hallway.
"Ugh," Reed muttered as he healed himself. "Is he always like that?"
"Doctor Hojo? Yeah," I answered. "Not much room for politeness when you are a Shinra Director. And also a mad scientist."
Reed grimaced.
"Good match, kid," he said. "You'll be an asset to the program once you join."
I looked at him. There hadn't been a single First Class left after Angeal and Genesis's whole clusterfuck. I wondered if Reed had died in Wutai, degraded, or defected and got turned into a clone. Yikes. Maybe he'd just retired. SOLDIER was old enough as an institution that there were a significant number of retirees from the program, and they seemed to be doing mostly fine, as far as I knew.
"Thank you, sir," I said instead. "But I haven't passed my entrance exams just yet. Though I suppose nepotism will get me anywhere, within this company, except maybe the Board."
Reed snorted. "You won't be needing nepotism to pass the entry exams and you know it, kid. You could have wiped the floor with all the Seconds and half the Firsts. Why did you pull your punches, eh? I could tell your reactions were faster than you were letting on."
"I was only supposed to demonstrate the results of my spa treatment," I said. "Any other advantages… are beside the purpose of this exhibition match."
While it was possible to pass off my preternatural reflexes as purely a result of mako enhancement, the fact of the matter is that I reacted several times faster when facing anyone with even a trace amount of J or S cells within their bodies. Even when not actively trying to make a psychic connection, I registered any intention to attack me telepathically as soon as their thoughts occurred, and so could counter any conscious strategies, and my actual training and reflexes were more than enough to respond to any movements that relied on muscle memory and reflexive instinct. Also, I could have made Reed fall on his face and start doing the worm if I had wanted to, but I wasn't going to let anyone else know about that.
Reed returned his broadsword to the harness on his back and gave me his hand. I shook it, firm enough for a boy of my age, but not too strong.
"I look forward to sparring again when you're finished with the day spa. I bet you could have given me a real fight today, if we'd been alone."
I smiled at him innocently. "My training and enhancements are not yet completed," I answered. "But yes sir, I too look forward to being able to spar freely with you. And I'm very sorry about your top, sir. I didn't realise that they were actually knit fabric, I thought it was woven."
"Ugh, it's only the new First Class winter uniform top that's like that, but it happens often enough," he patted me on my head. "Whichever idiot designs the uniforms thought it would be warmer, but the manufacturing of the machine knit is so shoddy that they start unravelling the moment you get a little scrape. Certainly nothing like my grandma's hand knit little numbers. No one wears these in the field since Firsts get to customise their outfits, but my boss made me put on the proper uniform to see President Shinra."
"Oh," I said. "Oof. That's rough, sir. Still. I'm sorry for the wardrobe malfunction. And thank you."
He gave me a jaunty salute with the index and middle finger of his left hand, then sauntered away, tugging at his top and trying not to show any nipple to unsuspecting troopers and SOLDIERs using the nearby training facilities.
I pouted internally. I had missed yet another chance to infect President Shinra with my S cells. Damn those stupid, professional, competent Turks. I guess I'd have to wait until my next opportunity. If I got to him, just once, I could be done with this farce once and for all. Oh, but wouldn't it be sweet, to have Hojo's stupid boss and the source of all my problems be turned into my puppet.
I paused. Ugh. Yikes. That had been a little bit too megalomaniacal. Oops. Hmm, maybe Sephiroth's body really was genetically predisposed to megalomania and insanity, if I, a perfectly well adjusted adult who had a vastly different experience in Shinra, were thinking thoughts like that.
I firmly refused to acknowledge how unhinged I had always been. It was all Hojo and Lucrecia and Jenova's fault. I was a very nice child who never caused any problems for anyone, ever. Shut up.
"This is the living room," I said, gesturing expansively. "And there's a bathroom through that door. The spare room is where I meditate and try to spontaneously develop brain laser powers, but no such luck just yet. I have a bedroom upstairs, but there's spare rooms and a study. I cleared out the top floor for you, so you can tell whoever is moving your stuff over to keep the mako tanks in the nursery room or the walk-in closet or something."
Yuuki's grip on the back of my shirt loosened as he caught sight of the lunch I already had out on the table.
"Pineapple pizza!" He cheered, and zoomed off in the direction of the kitchen island, on which I had laid out several homemade pizzas, a horrifying amount of garlic bread, and a whole warm pan of brownies, accompanied by a carton of unopened vanilla ice cream.
"Come have pizza," I said to Veld, who looked at Yuuki with strained eyes. Poor guy, now there were two two adorable precocious abused brats he had to babysit, and Yuuki's big wet innocent eyes had to be setting off the alarm bells, because that was the exact expression I strived to emulate when I was playing innocent.
Veld sighed.
"I can't eat on the job," he said, for the hundredth time. I wouldn't stop trying to feed him though, that was how I showed my love and affection.
"I made everything," I assured him. "I'm pretty sure that guideline only counts if you're eating stuff you didn't prepare yourself."
Veld frowned at me. "I'll take a few slices with me and have them when I've clocked out," he suggested.
I shrugged. He often did that, when I tried to feed him. Even a man like Veld eventually caved, I suppose. Sometimes I wish he was just taking the food and throwing it away, but unfortunately he ate it all and appreciated the fruits of my labour. I wanted to yell at him about being too trusting, but obviously that would be extremely hypocritical of me. This was why Tseng made director before 30.
"Yuuki, go look in the fridge and see what you want, I bought all your favourite drinks," I called over my shoulder. "Mr Veld, we'll be good. You go home and enjoy your weekend. I promise there will be no more electrical fires."
Veld patted me on the head. Before he left, he took out something from his pocket and left it on the entryway table in the dish for the keys. I waited until the door closed then pocketed the wrapped package.
"Sephy! You're a genius!" Yuuki said happily, face stuffed with junk food, a can of something bright red and very fizzy clutched in one greasy paw.
I shrugged.
"Your clothes and personal items are all up in your room, I put away the toiletries in the ensuite and someone has put your clothes away, but you'll need to decide what you want to do with the rest."
Yuuki's reply was somewhat muffled by a mouthful of pineapple laden cheesy goodness.
"Let's have a sleepover in the living room!" Yuuki said, as if he hadn't heard me mention the packing up and the tidying to be done. "We can stay up late and tell ghost stories and talk about boys and paint our nails and try on makeup!"
I faltered. I supposed Tachibana had grown more relaxed in her strict supervision of Yuuki's reading material, if he harboured secret dreams of reenacting the sleepover club.
"If that's what you want," I agreed, despite my exasperation. While he was under my roof, I would make damnedest sure that whatever Yuuki wanted, Yuuki got. "I haven't got any makeup though, let's go shopping this afternoon and I'll buy us some."
Letting Yuuki stay with me was supposed to be an exercise in building his independence and general life skills, in preparation for our upcoming deployment into Wutai. We could be trusted to become child soldiers and human weapons, but not even Old Man Shinra was stupid enough to think that we would have the discipline, independence or self care abilities of a regular, adult soldier who had already accumulated such life experiences as puberty and taxes and a command structure that wasn't "every Shinra employee who doesn't have a specimen number can legally treat you however they want ". I did not want to agree with any of SciDept's goals for Yuuki, but unfortunately it was a good opportunity to teach him some things. Where clothes and toothpaste came from, how to do the dishes, how to establish a mental link with others rather than just keeping himself psychically open and being bombarded with whoever was loudest and closest, that sort of thing.
He was only supposed to stay with me for two days a week at first, with Veld's intermittent supervision, but I had hoped that Tachibana would foist him off on me long-term, now that she was spending more and more time down in Deepground. Yuuki was a sweet angel who did not think to complain about his mother abandoning him, especially since it had been drilled into him since birth that scientific discovery outweighed his feelings, comfort, and freedom.
I fed Yuuki all the greasy junk he wanted, then took him up to the master bedroom and let him decide where he wanted the mako tanks for his spare bodies to be kept. He had to have one within a hundred meters at all times, according to department policy, and he decided that he wanted to keep it in the empty nursery room connected to the master bedroom.
"It has a nice view out the window," Yuuki explained.
"You're also baby," I said under my breath.
Yuuki, whose hearing was just as enhanced as mine was, made a cute noise of protest.
"I'm not a baby!" he cried.
"You're the babiest," I said loudly, ruffling his gray hair. "You go get changed out of those boring old scrubs and I'll phone Ansel and tell him where to have your tank delivered. Then we can go out for a shopping trip, to celebrate the occasion."
Yuuki tugged nervously on a strand of his fringe. "Are you sure I'm allowed?"
I pushed him towards the walk-in closet, where his old clothes were, as well as stacks of new clothes that I'd gotten him. We were similar enough in build to fit the same sizes.
"It's what you're supposed to be doing," I reassured him. "Once we're in SOLDIER, we won't have so many people taking care of everything for us anymore. You have to be in charge of replacing your uniforms when they are worn out, and you have to make sure you get to the mess at meal times, because no one is going to bring your food to you. If you want something, you need to learn to get it yourself instead of asking someone else to get it for you."
"Oh," Yuuki said quietly. He seemed pretty nervous. Poor kid. He'd be right at home with the part of the military experience where you do what you're told, but he was absolutely not equipped to take care of himself or be the independent field operative that Shinra wanted First Class Soldiers to be.
"Don't worry, Yuuki. It's not so scary once you get used to it. Here's two hundred gil of spending money, Your job is to buy whatever you want while we're out."
Ugh, a field trip. I thought back glumly to the visits to the library and the park and various shopping centres and Underplate venues of dubious nature that Veld had taken me in our weekend outings over the past few years. What goes around comes around, I guessed. Now I was the hapless babysitter who had to make sure I took my charges on edifying field trips that enriched his personal growth somehow.
Venomously, I decided that I would start off with a toy store. Yuuki was ten years old. He deserved some goddamned bionicles, or whatever miserable facsimiles existed in this world.