This is the third fic (and the last) in a series on Seph's childhood. Bear and Cat are the first two stories.
by Kitt
Disclaimer: Well, you know, I don't own anything from FF7. I just like to borrow ^_^
"And what do you think you'd ever say
I won't listen anyway
You don't know me and I'll never be what you want
Me to be..."
---Johnny Rzeznik, "I'm Still Here"
The residents of Upper Midgar were at an inconvenience when it came to funerals: there was no place to bury anyone. So, unless one opted for cremation, one had to travel to a plot of land just west of the city of Kalm, where most Midgar plate-dwellers buried their dead.
It was a nice place for a cemetery. It was calm and peaceful, lush and green, not like the typical cemetery one might read about in horror novels or such. Sephiroth liked it, though he might have enjoyed it more had he not been there to say goodbye to the only man he had ever really looked up to, or if that really annoying blonde girl hadn't insisted on standing beside him and holding his hand throughout the ceremony.
He was dressed up in a little suit just his size, something that being a part of ShinRa afforded him with. It was tailored just right, so that it fit the rather wide shoulders of an eight-year-old who could easily be a boxer in his prime: tall for his age and muscular, imposing, with hypnotic catlike eyes. It was black too, just like every man's tuxedo and every lady's lovely gown.
Just like the annoying blonde girl's lacy dress with all its elegant sashes and matching hair bows.
He did as all the grownups did, stood tall and quiet, paid little mind to the toddler that wailed for attention in Lady Shinra's arms. He listened to the priest's words---or rather, he let them pass through his ears. He tossed one of the flowers from the assortment of bouquets on the coffin when he was given one. Through it all he remained determined not to cry, but not because he had a girl to impress. He wanted her to disappear really, but there wasn't a drop of wish-granting power in his muscular little frame.
He rubbed his eyes mechanically. They were moist, but that was as close as he'd let them get to tears. No, he was going to be a powerful SOLDIER in ShinRa's army; he couldn't be seen crying like a baby. No one else was crying anyway---especially not the obnoxiously dry-eyed Professor Hojo. The scrawny little man was hovering over the proceedings like a vulture.
Yet Sephiroth couldn't remain completely unemotional on the surface. That was his father's coffin there, so to speak. His father's body was in that box, never to be opened again. The only man who treated him like a person was rubbed out of his life like a penciled error on a ShinRa application. No more, gone, nothing. Oblivion, he was meeting with it now...wasn't he?
Gast's death seemed unreal. Sephiroth had seen less and less of him before the news of his passing arrived, the man had spent so much time up in the Icicle Village in the far north. Did a monster get him? Was it just a freak accident? That was the adults' excuse for what happened.
"Accidents, they're like thieves in the night," said Lady Shinra, though she didn't sound the least bit remorseful, never mind that handkerchief she used to dab at her eyes. She was simultaneously trying to keep a restless three-year-old Rufus in her arms.
As for the blonde girl, if it was one purpose her irritation served, it was lightening the burden on young Sephiroth's shoulders. She was more forward than any girl he'd ever known...but then again, he didn't know many girls to begin with. He assumed all girls must be that way, always thinking about silly things like handholding.
"Hold my hand," she insisted. He said no the first time and she seemed put off, but then she tried again. "It won't kill you, you know!" she whispered persistently.
Sephiroth ignored her. The girl tried a third time and at last he gave in. He held her little hand while the coffin was lowered into the ground.
The blonde girl soon tired of holding hands, however. She left Sephiroth's side for Lady Shinra's. Sephiroth heard her speaking.
"Can I hold Rufus?"
He turned, mildly curious, just in time to see the President's wife hand over a wriggling little boy dressed in a miniature tux, a cross look twisting his tiny features. His hair was bright, reddish blond, and it seemed to glow in the sunshine.
When the ceremony was over, the attendees broke off into groups and started chatting. Their noise was low and retrained given the environment. Sephiroth wandered off on his own, towards the edge of the cemetery, seeking solitude almost hungrily. At the cemetery's edge was a small creek, a silver ribbon in a sea of grass. It had caught his eye earlier. There he would find the loneliness he pursued until the Turks came for him, signaling that it was time to go.
He watched the stream chuckle over its rocky bed. Should he sit? No, the ground was muddy where he stood. He remained on his feet.
His thoughts kept him company. He was under Turk supervision now, because the head of the Jenova Project could no longer oversee him. He would be transferred to Hojo's care in a matter of days. He was told that yesterday and he balked at it. Professor Hojo didn't like him much, that was clear. Whatever had Sephiroth done to make the man so malicious towards him? Nothing as far as the boy could recall. Weren't there any other scientists who could oversee him? Oh, but no, Hojo was going to be promoted to Gast's position. There was no other scientist, other than the ones that Hojo would soon be heading.
Movement in the grass behind the boy caused him to turn. Just his luck: the annoying blonde-haired girl had followed him. The thought crossed his mind to push her into the creek when she came to his side, but he restrained himself. Weren't her parents very rich people? They wouldn't like it if a little experimental boy shoved their precious little girl into the water, would they?
Besides, she was still holding the President's son.
Soon enough, though, she placed him down on the grass and seemed to forget about him. "I didn't see your parents there. You're with the Turks, right? Is your dad a Turk? Or your mom?" she asked Sephiroth.
Sephiroth faced the creek again. If only his parents were Turks. If only he ever got to meet his parents. "No," he answered with reluctance, after a time.
The blonde girl paused for a bit. "Oh. Well, then, where are your parents? They wouldn't let you come here by yourself, would they? You can't be much older than me," she said.
The last words of her sentence were tinged with a sort of superior air. Sephiroth felt himself chafing beneath it. The little brat, why couldn't she just go away? "I'm eight years old, and I'm not by myself."
"Oh, then you're younger than me!" The blonde girl sounded surprised in a pleasant way, as if being older made her better than him, or smarter. "I'm ten years old," she stated proudly, holding her head high.
Sephiroth turned around fully. He saw Rufus playing somewhere near the girl's shoe. She swatted him away.
"That's only two years older than me. And besides, you're shorter than me. By a lot," he told her pointedly, stepping toward her. He was indeed at least five inches taller than she was. There was a rash of freckles on her face, he saw, close as he was to her, on both cheeks and across the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were a crystal blue and, at the moment, furious.
Rufus pointed at the girl. "Ha ha ha!" he laughed very loudly, as if he'd been listening to the conversation the whole time.
The blonde girl's head snapped around. "Oh shut up, you brat! Go play in the mud!"
Rufus merely smiled at her evilly.
The girl faced Sephiroth again, but this time she didn't look so mad. "Oh, that's all right, I like tall men." She inched closer to him, eyes hooded, her entire stance exaggerated, craving attention. "Did you ever get kissed before?" she asked him boldly.
Sephiroth stepped away. This girl was scary now, instead of just annoying. "No," he replied, not quite as flatly as he would have liked. He sounded insulted, and he didn't want to sound that way because he didn't care about kissing. Was that all girls ever thought about, handholding and kissing? Didn't they have other things to do? Sephiroth was grateful he didn't know any other little girls. They must all be very creepy.
The blonde girl smiled devilishly. "You didn't? Well, then..." She turned around presently and walked over to one of the hedges near the creek. She plucked off one of the branches and returned to him bearing it in her hand. She raised it up, trying to hold it over Sephiroth's head. "Pretend it's mistletoe," she said in a whispery little voice.
"Go away," Sephiroth told her plainly. "I don't wanna kiss you. I don't even know who you are." He tried to go back to his spot by the creek, but the girl's hand shot out and grabbed his arm.
"My name's Scarlet," she told him.
He turned back to her, studying her for a time. Scarlet? He didn't know any Scarlet, so he said just that.
"Well, you know my name," Scarlet insisted, "and that's good enough! So kiss me." She held up the branch again and drew herself very close to him, closing her eyes.
Sephiroth felt awkward, so he backed away. Scarlet drew closer. Sephiroth backed away a second time. He shot a look over Scarlet's head and caught Rufus watching them, smiling mischievously.
Scarlet stopped and opened her eyes, evidentially impatient. "What's your problem?" she snapped at him, hands on her hips. The branch from the hedge was still in her hand.
"I don't wanna kiss you," said Sephiroth softly. His eyes were significantly harder than his voice.
Scarlet didn't seem to catch his look, or was impervious to it. She stamped her foot and turned away. "What's it take with men like you?" she started, launching into an exaggerated display of exasperation. "Huh? What's it take? Whaddo you want? Money? You want money? I'm rich," she declared, as though it was the most important thing on the Planet.
Sephiroth just blinked at her. Why couldn't she just go back to her parents? He didn't want her money. Money's power was severely restricted to purely material goals and Sephiroth didn't lack in that department.
Scarlet continued, "My dad works right under the President---he's his secretary! He makes lots of money. If I pay you enough will you kiss me?"
"No," said Sephiroth, a bit angrily this time.
"No?" Scarlet repeated, clearly astonished.
"Yep."
"Why not? Don't men like money? My mom says they do."
Sephiroth thought of telling her that he had no need for gil, but if he did, he'd only be prolonging a conversation that he wanted finished. "Go away," he said again. "I wanna be left alone."
For a time Scarlet looked very thoughtful. Then at last she said, "Oh, okay then... I'll leave you alone if you kiss me just once. Then I'll go away. How's that?" She drew closer to him, close enough to put her little hands on his shoulders. She looked up at him with awe in her eyes. "Huh, I think I have to go on tiptoe to reach you." She did just that, then closed her eyes and puckered her lips.
Sephiroth tried to back away, but Scarlet kept inching nearer. Sephiroth drew his head back as far as he could and she still kept on coming like a freight train on a collision course.
A dark thought bloomed in the back of his mind and spread to the fore of his thoughts, carrying a rather unpleasant message: Hurt her.
That was temptation at its finest. How easy it would be to grab this Scarlet by the shoulders and shove her into the creek as he'd given it thought before, and get that pretty (and more than likely expensive) dress of hers all wet. Wouldn't that get his point across clearly!
::So do it.::
But the other half of him protested loudly that throwing Scarlet into the water could have grave consequences. He couldn't do that, he told himself---or rather, he told the persistent idea.
The urge was strong, but Sephiroth's good sense was stronger. He beat down that urge to harm her and instead acted on reflex: he shoved her away, causing her eyes to widen and her legs to stumble as she staggered backwards. She landed on the grass, sitting upright and looking shocked to the core. Her face was so red, it made her eyes look bluer.
Rufus, who had been watching silently the entire time, finally spoke up again. He pointed at Scarlet and laughed. "Ha, ha, ha!"
Scarlet's eyes were locked on Sephiroth; she didn't seem to notice Rufus at all. "Why, you little...!" she started, rising to her feet. She stormed over to silver-haired boy and shoved him back. "You're a jerk!" Then she turned and gathered Rufus into her arms, awkwardly considering her small stature, and walked off in a huff.
The president's little son had his head resting on Scarlet's right shoulder. He watched Sephiroth as he was carried away, then reached over with one little hand and pointed. He laughed again, loudly as usual.
"Shut up!" Scarlet snapped at him.
And that was it. No more Scarlet; no more loud, laughing Rufus. Sephiroth was finally alone again. He turned back to the creek and sighed. Funny, but he didn't feel bad about what he did. It all felt so justified. He had been backed into a corner and he lashed out. He felt no reason to feel guilty. In fact, to his astonishment, he found out just how easy it was to physically harm a person and be unaffected by it. It came as a shock initially, but then the glow waned and the shock became delight.
He was bigger and stronger than most and hurting others didn't make a dent in his consciousness. Had Sephiroth been taught otherwise, he might very well have felt some kind of remorse for his actions.
There was no sadness anymore either, the boy realized. His melancholy had fled him as well. Was this the reward for acting on such impulses? Hurting people seemed to ease pain---an interesting discovery brought to him by a small voice whose musical sound he hadn't heard in years. He had relied on it so much not too long ago, too; maybe it was time to give it a listen again.
He forgot how long he'd been standing there, eyes fixed on the creek, hypnotized by the rush of water over the rocks. When he caught the smell of a cigar on the light breeze, he turned again, not knowing whom to expect.
He found President Shinra heading his way, smoking casually, looking not at all bothered by the fact that he had just attended the funeral of one of his board members. The grand feeling of being powerful left Sephiroth then. He'd never met the President before, though he'd heard so much about him that it was hard to separate the grownup talk from the actual man.
"We leave soon, son," said the President, tapping his cigar and flicking ashes into the grass. "Don't want to leave you behind, that's for sure." His leer there was meaningful, but Sephiroth didn't know what to make of it.
So he turned back to the creek, wishing he could turn into a fish and swim away. Don't want to leave you behind... Yes, being experimental made him so important. It must be hard to remember that he had feelings. Were his eyes that unexpressive? Did he stand too stiffly? Did he not smile enough?
Go away, he thought, just like he did with the annoying girl, Scarlet. Yes, go away, Mr. President.
But the President acted contrary to Sephiroth's wishes and came closer. The boy wondered then if he knew what had happened with him and Scarlet moments ago, and if he hadn't come over to snap at him for it. "You really like being by yourself, don't you?" he commented airily, dismissing Sephiroth's worries. "I guess I can understand that." A pause. More smoke headed Sephiroth's way. "You're like me," the President continued, a grin in his voice. "You're a lone wolf, the one that doesn't like being in the pack. I don't blame you. I can't stand crowds myself."
Interesting, Sephiroth thought. He'd been fascinated by wolves, ever since he learned about them. They seemed so malicious, killing other creatures, but the fact was that they were misunderstood. They only killed to eat; that was no crime, nothing worthy of a bad reputation. And yet they were always the villains in fairy tales...
He stopped his flow there. How foolish, thinking about fairy tales when he was in the presence of the President! He felt so silly he almost blushed.
The smoke from the President's cigar hung around him in thick wreaths, yet he bit down on his urge to cough. He had nothing to say; there was nothing to be said. He'd just buried the one man who really cared about him and soon he would go back to Midgar to face the scenario there. The lone wolf was going back to the pack, whether or not he objected.
The silence grew uncomfortable, so the President began talking again. Yet unlike before, he wasn't merely making conversation. "You do realize," he started, "that when we get back, you'll be under Hojo's care?"
At that Sephiroth looked the man in the eye. It irritated him to be reminded of that. "I know." And he said that very sharply.
"Whew, touchy about that, aren't you?"
Sephiroth said nothing. Just when the quiet resumed, he heard the voice in his head speaking. ::You want him to go away? You'll be able to do that one day. But for now you have to listen. Listen, and don't wonder why so much.::
Listen? He had been listening, for a long while now. He'd been listening to this voice, to the President, and even to Scarlet when she insisted on trying to kiss him. He tolerated them, and now he was getting tired of it. He knew what everyone else wanted of him by now, but what about what he wanted for himself? Even the voice, as intimately connected to him as it was, seemed to have an agenda for him to follow. Sephiroth felt himself mentally struggling in unseen shackles. He had been born in those chains.
He was facing the river when he mumbled, "Everyone's always telling me what to do..."
"Eh?" President Shinra sent a puff of cigar smoke the boy's way when he spoke.
"I said everyone's always telling me what to do. I'm always bein' bossed around..."
"Heh, well, it's for your own well being," the President countered impassively. "You're so young... You're only what, nine?"
"Eight."
"Close enough. Look, when you're older, then things'll be different---"
Sephiroth cut him off with a loud sigh. "No, because when I'm older, I'll be in SOLDIER. I'll be in the army an' then my captain'll be tellin' me what to do. I'm always being told what to do. Why can't I do what I want? Will you ever let me?"
In a fit of frustration the silver-haired boy turned and began to stalk off, in the direction of the departing funeral attendees. He was stopped by President Shinra's words.
"Well, what do you want then? What do you want to do with yourself?"
Blindly the boy groped for an answer. For a moment he even expected the voice to come to his aid, but it never did. All his life he'd been following orders, and now, when it came to making his own decisions, he was paralyzed.
What did he want to do with himself? The truth rocked his little world.
He had no idea.
