[[Author's Notes --- Cid's Ode to In-School Suspension was based on an actual assignment that a fellow server of ISS got while I was in there. He was non-poetic so I rambled off a few verses, got into it and wrote it down. If anyone cares to know, I got two days for 'rude and insubordinate'.]]
[[AN part 2 --- I'm sorry about the formatting problems. I misread the uploading thingers and got irritated and… well, you get the idea. Should be dandy now.]]
[[AN 3.0 --- HEY I FOUND THE LAST PART OF THIS CHAPTER LETS HEAR IT FOR ME WOOO]]
In spite of the sentence, the
entire slew of students had their terms reduced. Though he had only appealed to
his own faction, Rufus had actually convinced his father to pardon the entire
group. He simply flicked his blonde bangs from his eyes and sighed.
The detention hall was
little more than an unused classroom, furnished with old desks and stiff
carpeting. Upon being freed, the groups broke apart again, the blue suited
young men staying to the opposite side of the room from the mismatched crew who
had been imprisoned with them. They glared at each other, for a long while
neither side saying a word. The only one who wasn't severely swayed one way or
the other was the pilot. He sat right in the middle of the room, irritated with
being put away for the remainder of the day and being fined money that he
would've needed for food. The detention hall representative gave the stereotypical
speech about why they were there and that they would be more harshly
disciplined if they caused further trouble. She then left them to their own
devices for the following hours. No one spoke to anyone else for quite some
time. Eventually, both sides appealed to the pilot who was obviously the
middleman.
"Hey... blondey... What's yer name?" Barret rumbled, looking
at the pilot from the corner of his eye. The blonde looked up and cracked his
neck stiffly.
"Highwind.
Cid Highwind."
The redhead looked up from
where he'd been resting his head. "So you're the pilot... right?"
Cid nodded, his brows
furrowing a little. "How'd you know that?"
The boy laughed. "I
know EVERYTHING. The name's Reno."
"You sure know how to
be a real asshole..." Barret muttered, rolling his eyes.
"What was that,
muscle-for-brains?" Reno snapped, his aquamarine eyes staring straight past Cid and
to the hulking form seated across from him.
"Nothin'....
pansy..."
Reno jumped up but once again was halted by
the bald man sitting beside him. He growled angrily but said nothing this time,
knowing that he'd be likely to get expelled if he started another fight. Plus,
it would already take him a few days to breath deeply again. He settled for
simply flipping him off.
"My name's
Barret," the chocolate skinned man continued. Cid turned back to him and
nodded a little. Barret turned to the others in his group, pointing at all of
them in turn. "The carrot-top is Jessie, the fat guy is Wedge an' that
other guy over there is Biggs..." he mumbled. The pilot noted that all of
them were a little worse for the wear, Jessie sporting a busted lip and Biggs
with a scratch across his right eyebrow. He figured he had his own set of
wounds but he really didn't care about them that much. Just a
couple out of many.
Reno couldn't let Barret talk for long and
interrupted again. "Ya don't want to fall in with them. They're all
slum-shit," he reasoned. Barret let loose a wild string of curses but it
seemed not to faze the crimson-haired boy in the least. "We're the Turks.
That's Rude and over in the corner is Tseng. We're on the up-an'- up. Yer gonna
be workin' with us ANYWAY." Reno paused, scratching just under the
sunglasses perched on his forehead. "Yer buddy Vincent used to run with
me. He's probably gonna end up bein' Turks material and get a seat right in
with us."
Cid shrugged
indifferently. They were two different sides with equal hate for each other. It
really didn't matter to him which group chose him as their
own. He didn't care. He wasn't going to change for either
of them and that was that.
At that moment, the doors
brushed open and the detention hall representative walked back in. She brushed
her hair from her face and proceeded to inform them that they all had work to do. Mr. Shinra, the Headmaster, had ordered that
they all apologize to the rest of the school for their disturbance. Each was
given a separate assignment and all set grudgingly to work. Only one seemed a
little happy for it. Cid went right to his assignment, ready to convey his
piece of mind through his work. They would all read their various assignments
over the television system the next morning. Cid was going to make sure he was
heard.
The following morning,
everyone who was involved in the fight appeared on the video system, all in
various conditions of sleep. Barret snored and it kept almost all of the Turks
awake. The only one not affected seemed to be Cid of who's subconscious waged a
snore war. He was the last to read his paper to the camera and grinned slightly.
"I was assigned to
write an ode about In-School. I hope you all enjoy it...
In school is not my
place to be
In it my friends I cannot
see
When I leave I'll be full
of glee
'Cause I will be out of
In-School
Because of my temper, I
got caught
I screamed and ranted and
cursed a lot
I got in trouble because I
fought
And it landed me here in
In-School
In a cold room is where we
stay
Sitting and told to work
all day
And when waiting so we can
go away
We get in trouble in
In-School
When I get out, I will
think twice
Before I add some much
needed spice
When the teachers are
looking, I'll be nice
So delinquency don't land
me in In-School."
Upon finishing, Reno cheered, raising his bloody knuckles to
the ceiling in agreement. Cid laughed and was pushed off camera. In the
background, everyone could hear him getting yelled at for the last verse. That
was how the first official day of classes started. It followed smoothly
afterwards with the exception of demerits being handed out to the pilot and
Turk for their insubordination and rudeness. In all, it hadn't been so bad.
For others, the first day
of classes was akin to a day in Hell. The boy that had been so carelessly run
over by Cid Highwind had found himself in a very uncomfortable situation. His
only friend on campus was a returning student and he hadn't the slightest clue
where to find him. Everywhere he asked, he met with the same litany of
responses. 'What's with your hair?' 'Why do you want him?' 'Stupid
freshman!' He eventually just gave up. That was when it happened.
He was coming out of the
boy's bathroom near the dining hall, trying to remove the last of a barbecue
stain from his blue shirt. He was, naturally, what everyone used for target
practice during the first food fight of the year. He groaned unhappily and
raised his eyes to look out before him. That's when it happened.
His blue eyes shot open
and he stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet. He could see her
walking towards the gym, her long brown hair tied in two low, loose pigtails.
He knew her familiar footfalls, the way that her short skirt moved as she
stepped.
He turned and darted back
into the bathroom and moaned sickly. His lunch met the dank bathroom floor and
he stayed doubled over on the ground for quite some time. It wasn't possible
that she was here... That she has somehow crossed into his destiny again. Yet,
he'd seen her. Seen the older version of he girl he'd left behind so many years
ago. It had been too real to be a mirage. She had actually been there. Tifa
Lockheart was on the Midgar Campus.
The blonde boy staggered to
his feet after a long five minutes and stumbled to the sink. He turned on the
cold water and stared at it. This was not what he needed. Not now. Not before
he could get his bearings and make a name for himself. He wanted to be known
for something, have the name Cloud Strife conjure up some idea of a great
upperclassman, head of the varsity teams, homecoming king three years running,
the lady's man. Not the scrawny little no-body from out of town.
He nearly felt sick again
and stooped to the sink. The soft spray of cold water hit his pale face and he
began feeling a little better. He sighed and let the spray wash over his face
for a long while until the nausea had passed. He slowly stood up, turning off
the water. He stayed there in the bathroom for an hour or so until he was ready
to chance the outside world again. He grabbed his bag and ran out; sprinting
like a wounded bird towards whatever building was closest. He needed to find
Zack.
The Midgar campus was original in design, a truly modern version of all the schools of the country. Giving in tot he demand for widespread private schooling, the establishment wasn't only a university but also the elitist of the high schools in the continent, perhaps the world. There were two sets of students there, some who were fresh out of puberty and those ready to begin life as adults. Through this unique design, it was revered as great, the students able to pass right from highschool into college-level courses.
There was another thing that made Midgar great. IT was the only school known to house classes and training programs for whatever type of major there was. Those wishing to pass through the police academy were treated to the elitist version, the SOLDIER program. Drilled in all the necessities for policing, the SOLDIERs were ready to be placed into high ranking positions of the army, navy, or marines. For those wanting to be in the air force, there was no better place than Midgar. With its own miniature runway and hangar, the campus sported one of the best flight schools in the business. It didn't stop there. The department continued into aeronautics and space engineering. Truly, the sky was not the limit.
For those less ready to leap into such extremities, the usual slew of students could easily major in things such as journalism and art. There was an agriculture department and even things as simple as small business management. In contrast, one could also major in corporate management. Such a major was the set for the Headmaster's son, Rufus. The boy was shipped straight from a prestigious school nearly a continent away. Such was life.
In and of itself, the Midgar School for Talented Youth was almost entirely self-sufficient. Its agriculture department and the refineries made it easy to keep the students fed. Once every three months, the stores of non-organic foodstuffs would be delivered, brought in through the train station just outside the campus. Even the electricity was confined within the property, the entire place running on the new and controversial Mako energy. There were eight major reactors, all se to the campus limits near the low budget dormitories, each bearing the simple name of Sector and the number of the reactor it was nearest, Sector 1 through Sector 8. Across the rest of the campus, more reactors could be sighted, though each considerably smaller and less necessary. In fact, almost every dormitory had a reactor, bar Corel House, who seemed completely appalled to the idea. Support was gradually growing, though, for installation.
This year was a new step for Headmaster Shinra. In its slew of invitations, the school had taken in some of the simpler types of student, taking in those with little promise to those with only diplomas to hold them back. It had accepted fewer SOLDIER candidates this year. This was probably due to another factional group of equally elite warmongers, affectionately called the Turks. These housed only four at most and the competition was fierce. One would have to study years to even be a consideration and many more years of grueling training sessions and the like before candidacy was certain. Even after that, the only way one could rise to the position was if an existing Turks was somehow deemed unfit for the job or was incapacitated. The current three were happy where they were.
The teaching staff was opposed to such a wide variety of skill levels (not to mention monetary values) of the new students but they were easily silenced by the Headmaster. Of late, he was disconcerted with their ideas, instead seeming partial to the science departments. No one really knew why, other than the three of them. And none were telling.
As they way the campus was set up, the SOLDIER barracks were just outside the ring of 'slums.' The slums were known as such due to their low rent. They housed, normally, those unable to pay for both housing and expensive majors at the same time. While the Sector dorms were the places dreams were made, most never made it out of them. If the cost of their learning was that heavy as to force them into such inhospitable conditions, financial security almost never recurred. It was a sad, but true, fact.
Ironically, the most expensive dorms were neighboring, just down the road from these slums. This was where the aristocrats of the student population stayed, their importance much too high to be bothered with common teenagers. These were known as the Shinra dormitories, an obvious crack at being the proprietor's favourites.
There were only two exceptions to this unspoken rule. They were, respectively, the Turks, for lack of lodging elsewhere, and a stupid young girl who was an unfortunate weaponry prodigy and expert in 'bedroom arts.' It was rumoured that that was how she came to rest under the title Shinra.
Being of almost equal importance, the SOLDIER barracks were just outside of the Shinra dorms, across the street and a few blocks away from the slums. They were almost always packed to the brim, the upperclassmen getting the choice rooms before the lowerclassman and high school agers even arrived. They also took the liberty of emptying the vending machines before the younger students arrived.
The machines were in the lobby, along with the sign-up sheets. It was there that Cloud found himself, the blue attired trainees greeting him warmly.
"High school froshies belong in the living assignment room in the main building."
"That means get the hell out."
Though still sick over Tifa, Cloud felt insulted. And rightfully so. He hated it when people misjudged his age for his height. He had tried since he was young to remedy that by spiking up his hair. Though his hair grew longer and stood taller, his stature almost never grew to match it. Puberty had left the junior at 5'7" and none too happy.
"I'm here looking for Zack Knightblade, not to get pushed around by you guys." he snapped, crossing his arms. The SOLDIERs looked between each other, laughing. The boy felt foolish. Though he was looking for Zack still, he had ducked in here from fear. His mouth puckered sourly and he crossed his arm.
The first young man to speak leaned back, looking around the corner. He waved to someone, still chuckling to himself. "Hey..." he called obnoxiously, his voice sing-songy. "Get Hedgehog Boy to come look at this little present the cat dragged in!" Both blue-uniformed students began laughing hysterically, another voice echoing similar sounds from down the hall. Cloud growled.
"AND..." he began, puffing out his chest. "I'm here to sign up for SOLDIER training." As an afterthought, he could probably impress everyone by becoming a SOLDIER, while he was at it. Then he'd be able to talk to Tifa without conversing with his lunch at the same time.
"That is certainly a good thing to hear."
The blonde turned, looking straight into the neck of the man behind him. He growled softly, the SOLDIER member behind him beginning to laugh again. He looked up, ready to scream. Taking his own advice, he did. And at the same time, jumped up and threw his arms around the newcomer's neck.
"Hey, kid!" he laughed, a little ruffled.
"Zack!" Cloud fairly squealed, his lean arms squeezing the SOLDIER tightly. "I've been looking all over for you!"
The two at the sign up desk had ceased laughing, presumably by Zack's entrance and acceptance of the boy. Not only had he not made any crack about size or stature, he was ruffling the junior's hair rather affectionately. They talked back and forth like small children back in class again after summer break. The original two blinked at each other, wordlessly picking up the forms for admittance.
"Hey..."
"So, you wanted to sign up?"