Yo, minna! I know it's been a while since I updated….Gomen nasai!!! We got a virus and I just spent all week making sure all three of our computers and all the discs in the house were clean. I can say right now that you won't be getting any virii from us! We are so clean it hurts!
Okay, so here's the fic. Enjoy and PLEASE review! I love all of you who are reviewing. In fact, I've got a few other stories I may start typing, if you bug me enough!
* * *
Sephiroth stormed across the living room for what had to be the millionth round of pacing. He knew Zack would get after him for wearing a rut in the carpet, but right now he was having too much fun imagining all the many ways to kill 'Prez' (to use a Renoism) Shinra and that damned bastard Heidegger.
Now he knew for sure that he wouldn't be allowed to send out any of his men; Shinra had decreed it. The old fart was so scared of Wutaian assassins that he had ordered all of Midgar's SOLDIERs into standby for the next several days. It had taken all of his convincing and Laurel of the Turks' cunning to get the President to understand that it was not his place to play personal body guard, that that was the Turks' domain.
Of course, the old man had covered his cowardice with phrases like 'to ensure the safety of our helpless citizens' and the somewhat more cold-blooded 'protecting our resources'. That one had disturbed both Shinra's current personal secretary and the secretaries of most of the department heads at the meeting, excluding Scarlet's, Heidegger's, and Hojo's. Scarlet's was as cold-blooded as she was, Heidegger's was stupid, and Hojo was his own secretary. However, one man in particular, a slim, fairly attractive young man with dark hair and hazel eyes had been particularly disturbed. Of course, he was with Urban development, and the only reason they were even at the meeting was because the streets and all construction would be affected by these orders. They had been dismissed early, and the Secretary of Urban Development and the dark-haired man who was his secretary had quietly, almost gratefully, taken their leave.
The rest of the meeting didn't bear remembering. It had been a power struggle as all other Shinra head executive meetings were. The outcome was unpleasant, as usual, which made it even worse, now that he had a personal stake in the matter…
Thoughts became more pleasant as his mind turned to his personal stake in the matter. Cloud was really something. He was beautiful, with sunny gold hair, and deep blue eyes that Sephiroth just knew would take a purply shade with Mako exposure. His skin was fair, perfect and unblemished (which Zack bitched about constantly. He had had a few months of the worst acne anyone had ever had when he was about fifteen), and he was very well put together. All together, he was not just easy on the eyes, he was an absolute eye magnet; which drove Sephiroth, privately, of course, and in his own way, up the walls with jealousy. He'd seen how Cloud's squad-mates looked at him; they either hated him or lusted after him like nobody's business.
Sephiroth wanted nothing more than to catch a boat to Wutai, find the blond boy, drag him off to someplace they wouldn't be found, wait a few years until he was legal….
Sephiroth forcefully amputated that thought. He knew there was no point running himself in frenzied little circles like this, and usually he was better at controlling himself than this, but no amount of internal rationalizing was helping him at this point. He closed his eyes to attempt one last time to calm himself.
And had a horrid vision of Cloud's too-perfect-to-be-true self bloody and broken and sprawled limply in the red dirt of a foreign battlefield. He jerked his eyes open with a startled gasp. That particular private nightmare had always been reserved for Zack, in the past. It had always been Zack lying mangled and torn, his black hair fanned around him like his blood. Having Cloud introduced to this corner of his imagination just didn't amuse Sephiroth in the least.
Zack was more unlike him than he was like him. Sephiroth was reserved, Zack was out-going; Sephiroth was quiet, Zack was loud; Sephiroth was somber and serious constantly, Zack was cheerful and happy. They were good friends mainly through Zack's sheer will-power, initially, and because they balanced each other out. Cloud, however, felt like a middle ground. He wasn't quite as uptight as Sephiroth was, just shy, and not quite as loud as Zack, even once you got on a subject he was interested in. (On such occasions he talked and talked and talked, though quietly, and ready to button up again at any moment.) Sephiroth truly didn't want to see Cloud dead ever, just as he didn't want to see Zack dead.
Of course, the sick side of his imagination insisted that he did and that it was the greatest gift he could give: freedom from the world of lowly mortals. Sephiroth periodically got into these fully fledged fights with himself, mainly about things that made him feel strongly. He'd once asked Zack if he ever fought with himself in his head, or kept up an internal dialogue with himself, and Zack had nodded and said that everyone talked to themselves, argued with themselves, told themselves jokes and the like. Sephiroth wanted so badly to accept that answer as Truth, but he somehow doubted that Zack got into full-out screaming matches with himself. That occasionally resulted in migraines, splintered furniture he didn't remember having broken, and, on one occasion, a terrified regular running for cover, leaving Sephiroth to nurse the arm he'd somehow managed to break on an unoffending nearby wall.
Sephiroth turned sharply toward the kitchen, intending to find something to occupy his mind while he waited for the strangely feminine voice in the back of his head to shut up and go away. He really didn't have anything to do today, anymore, so he figured he'd cook dinner. He'd been intending to go out someplace with Zack, but now he thought he'd just make the whole meal here.
He dug out the pots and pans, contemplating what to make. He and Zack did share one thing perfectly in common, or maybe a few; they both had a special weakness for pastries and the fast metabolisms to keep up with high caloric intakes. Mako enhancement just made them have even faster metabolisms. Most SOLDIERs could get a short-term buzz by downing like ten shots of something strong in like ten minutes. Those blessed with naturally fast metabolisms couldn't get buzzed on anything short of rubbing alcohol or a Mako-based designer drug.
Sephiroth thought he would be pretty safe making a lot of pastries and breads.
A couple hours later, he emerged from the kitchen, with an annoying bit of flour on the tip of his nose, (Kawaii!) to let things rise and bake, and decided to email Zack his message.
"Zack,
Meet me at home at 20:00
~Seph"
Satisfied that the note met his requirements, Sephiroth decided to do a little research. He had tried to covertly discover the reason for Cloud's rejection from SOLDIER in the past, but he wanted to try again.
Sephiroth flicked into the 'super secure' SOLDIER candidate database like it was public domain, and once again attempted to access Cloud's test results. He could hack into any other candidate's files, but Cloud's were secured on a level he just wasn't familiar with. He was not the best hacker in the world, and couldn't access everything, but this particular shortcoming was becoming bothersome.
Sephiroth stared blankly at the screen prompting him to input his password. The screen stared back. Sephiroth knew his pass wouldn't work; he'd tried. He knew also that it had to be one of Hojo's passwords, because the man wouldn't let anyone know he was blocking someone. But Sephiroth didn't know any of Hojo's passwords. In fact he knew very little about the man who had 'raised' him, if that was the appropriate term.
He tried one of his 'father's' recent obsessions:
A-N-C-I-E-N-T-S
Access Denied, the computer calmly told him.
He tried his own name, knowing that that had once gotten him into one of Hojo's lower security files, but it had the same results. He scowled at the computer. If he tried and failed one more time, he would be booted from the system. His dear 'father' was entirely too hard to figure out. He sighed and tried to input his dead mother's name.
J-E-N-O-V-A
Access Granted.
Sephiroth's eyes widened as he was admitted into the files at last. He quickly saved all he could to discs to pore over later, and exited.
He grinned. He had the best surprise ever in store for Zack.
Speaking of which, he probably should go check on the food.
* * *
Zack actually dropped the pastry he was munching. "You what?!" he gasped.
Sephiroth smirked. "Yup," he said, smugly, inhaling his own pastry so not even crumbs remained.
"And the password was your mother's name?"
"Yes, Zack."
"And you actually accessed Spike's files?"
"Yes, Zack."
"And saved them to discs?"
"Yes, Zack."
"And danced around naked in the bathroom?"
"No, Zack."
Zack grinned. "Shucks. Just making sure you were awake."
Sephiroth grinned back. "I will dance, if you want me to. But let's take a peek at those files first, shall we?"
Zack nodded and, snatching another pastry, sauntered over to the computer. Sephiroth followed and sat down in the computer chair. He called up the files. Zack, as was often his habit, began to read aloud.
"Cloud Strife. Age, 14. Birth Place, Nibelheim. Hey! I know Nibelheim! It's not too far from Gongaga. It's, like, way up in the mountains. You don't really notice it on the way, I'm told, but the village is nearly a mile up, and Mount Nibel is even higher!
"Hmmm….Hair, eyes, a simple 'blue' doesn't do them justice at all, height, weight, ethnicity, blood type. Duh. Seph, we know all this!"
Sephiroth shrugged and brought up the next file: SOLDIER exams scores.
"Stage One Scores: 94%. Comments: Unusual build, but strong enough to handle SOLDIER training and tasks. Should have a moderate or better reaction to Mako. Recommendation: Enter Stage Two testing.
"Stage Two Score: 198/200, 99%. Comments: Highest recorded score. Indicates possible eidetic memory, and excellent reasoning processes. Recommendation: Enter Stage Three testing.
"Stage Three Score: 90%. Comments: Displays some negative traits such as timidity, in moderation. Also displays a slight instability Mako might enhance, but risk is negligible. Displayed some previously undocumented behavior in the Sensory Deprivation chamber, though effects not negative. Recommendation: Enter Stage Four testing.
"OVERRULED. Special Order 44717 filed by Professor Hojo." Zack paused. "Seph, what's S.O. 44717?"
Sephiroth looked grim. "It means he's marked as a possible future specimen. Hojo must want to be able to tinker with him himself."
Zack's silver-blue eyes flared with rage. "If he so much as touches Spike, I'm gonna break every bone in his body, and damn the consequences!"
"Easy, Zack. We don't know he'll ever try to take him. He'll probably make his life hell for a while then lose interest. He's done it before."
"Mmmm, I guess you're right…Bring up the next file." Sephiroth did. It was an audio file: Hojo's personally dictated notes.
"This seems to be that bastard Virga Strife's offspring. Damn him, of course he had to spawn so the creature could torment me even in death. But he has also provided me with an excellent specimen. Who would have thought such an idiot could spawn so intelligent a child, a creature who's mental, physical, and aesthetic perfection is rivaled only by my Sephiroth's?! Perhaps now I will be able to provide my dear 'child' with a more suitable companion than that 'Zax', or whatever his name was. With this 'Cloud' I could make a second Sephiroth, almost! I'd have two Sephiroths! If only the boy was female. Then I could breed many, many more Sephiroths! Wouldn't that be wonderful, love? I know you agree, my beloved Jenova…."
Zack had taken on a greenish hue as he heard Hojo speak. "That," he announced, "is one sick individual."
Sephiroth nodded agreement. "Maybe we ought to send another message to Cloud with that Turk, Reno, telling Cloud to watch his back."
Zack shook his head. "Reno leaves for Wutai tonight. It's already too late to catch him."
Sephiroth rested his head on the desk beside the keyboard. "Damn."
Zack mentally sent a prayer to whomever was listening. /Please, Spike, be okay. Come through this. I would miss you so much if you left us, either because of that war or because of Hojo. And I don't think Sephiroth would be able to take it at all…/
* * *
Reno sighed softly to himself as he approached the black chopper waiting to transport him to Wutai. He had his orders, and that was fine, and he had the letter and package from Zack to deliver, and that was fine, too. But something was Not Right.
He'd already checked his nightstick seven times to be sure his weapon was in order. All his back-up weapons, the handgun, the hold-out guns, the knives, had been checked just as many times. He saw nothing on the strip that posed a danger to the chopper, and the weather was perfect for flying in.
He wondered if this was about leaving Midgar. He'd been out before, but never so far away as Wutai. Could that be it?
But no. This was not anxiety. The hair at the nape of his neck was standing on end, his back itched like someone was watching him, and he had that tickle in the back of his mind that always meant Reno, you are so screwed. This was his mind and body informing him that he was in mortal danger, and that he ought to be running away from the chopper, not walking steadily toward it.
As he drew nearer, he saw a flash of white that didn't belong among the uniforms of the Shinra Air Force. He unconsciously tensed his arm, releasing the first strap holding one of his hold-out pistols in place, and lifted his nightstick slightly off its relaxed position on his shoulder. He continued to march, though, not even altering his stride.
"Ah, you're the new Turk, Reno, eh?" Beady black eyes fixed him with a stare that would have pinned most men in place from behind thick glasses. Reno took a few more steps before allowing his feet to stop.
"And you're Professor Hojo."
The skinny scientist's eyes raked him up and down and Reno wanted desperately to cover himself up. His uniform was in its usual disarray, and his hair was as usual, too. Everything about him was messy and unprofessional, hardly typical of the Turks, but that was the image Reno strove to project, and Hojo's next words proved he'd fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.
"Well, I'm not terribly impressed with what the Turks recruited this time. Certainly you'll never be a true replacement for the man you 'replaced'. He was a true Turk."
Mark, the man Hojo was referring to, had been Lark's second and her good friend. Tseng had also known him well, and almost idolized him, apparently, all those years ago, when he'd been a rookie like Reno was. The man had died on a mission less than six months ago, and Reno had been selected to fill in the ranks. Tseng had become second-in-command.
Of course, Reno wasn't really a rookie at anything.
"Well, sorry to disappoint you, Professor," he hissed, sounding perfectly steamed about that comment, even though he was actually pleased. "You do realize that civilians aren't allowed here, right? So why don't you just leave?"
Hojo smiled an oily smile that Reno had to fight not to swing the electrified end of his nightstick into. "Well, Mister, ah, Reno, I have a little errand for you."
"I ain't your gofer, Hojo."
"Well, really. This one the President has given me clearance to request. Which basically means demand. Since you're going to Wutai, I wondered if you wouldn't bring me back a certain trooper; a Specialist named Strife. I have certain interests in him and I wondered if you'd be so kind as to retrieve him for me?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever," Reno replied casually, hiding his real thoughts behind a mask of total nonchalance.
"Good. I'll be sure to include a bonus for you if you bring him back unharmed," the scientist studied his face intently for a moment. "You have the most amazing eyes I've ever seen outside of SOLDIER, Mister Reno. They almost glow. How fascinating…" The oily madman left.
Reno entered the chopper as if nothing had happened, even though his mind was running crazy little circles.
/Oh, Holy, he knows! Bless my ancestors, he knows about the glow!/ Reno had had a hard life, and the all-time low had been when he'd been addicted to glow, a Mako-based drug. It was like thin sticks of Materia, only not quite so condensed. It was generally placed on the tongue and allowed to dissolve, and it gave a high like nothing else could, along with a slight Mako-glow in the eyes of long-term users. Reno had almost died of the withdrawal, but he'd wanted to be clean upon entering the Turks. Besides, it was a hugely expensive habit.
But you never really got off glow, and even though he'd not so much as seen the stuff in over a year, he still ached for it, an aching need he drowned in alcohol, most of the time. He knew that if Hojo really knew about it, he had him in the palm of his hand. Show him a stick of it and Reno knew he'd do anything to get it.
Reno was now sure this was going to be a bad trip. He had stuff to deliver to Cloud Strife, and Hojo wanted him brought in. How was he going to deal with this? Should he turn in the kid? But then he'd have two all-powerful SOLDIERs after him, intent on turning his hide into a rug.
But if he didn't, and the President really knew about and condoned Hojo's 'request', he would probably be forced into retirement. And Turks don't really retire; they either die doing their duty, or they take swan-dives off the Shinra Tower (read: are pushed to their demise with only the clean-up crew to notice.)
Reno had kind of hoped to hold this job long enough to earn enough gil to be able to move his family out of the area….
Reno sighed. It basically came down to self- and family-preservation or doing what was right. And Turks weren't all that well known for doing good deeds, and were notoriously hard to kill.
* * *
Cloud sighed and sank wearily back on his haunches, leaning heavily against the side of the trench he was in. The mud in the bottom squelched half-way up to his knees, but he didn't care. He'd been on the go almost non-stop since that first night of the conflict. He knew he was good, and better off than most of the others, but a week was a bit much, even for him.
Since he was obviously so much better than the others in the company, Banford had thrown him into practically every scuffle, skirmish, and battle from the beginning. Jackson had also been forced to use him more than the man's conscience would easily allow, but where Cloud could save the lives of his squad- and platoon-mates, Cloud went willingly.
Now, though, both sides seemed to be exhausted, for the time being, and the fighting had slackened off while both sides sat back, licked their wounds, and took stock of their situations. And Cloud would have shouted for joy, had he the energy to do so.
It had started raining that first night, just after they had reached the battle lines, and hadn't done more than slack off temporarily since. All the troops were covered in mud from head to toe, so much so that it wad difficult to tell friend from foe. Every step was doubly difficult because of the thick mud, and the slick stones.
All this amounted to two sides which were completely exhausted, and an equally tired Spec Four Cloud Strife.
Cloud wondered how Sephiroth and Zack had withstood this when they had been here. While it was true that the Shinra was having a hard time with Wutai, right now, it was also true that this was nothing like the years-long campaign that had been the Wutai-Shinra war. That had ended only four years ago, but the people of Wutai had apparently decided to try for their freedom now. Cloud thought that was a mistake. Most of the warriors in Wutai had been killed in the previous war; there was no way they could have recovered enough to wage a truly effective war on the Shinra, whose power had only increased after the defeat of Wutai.
But these people were proud, and would never remain down for long. And, Cloud admitted to himself, they had picked the best possible opportunity to attack. The SOLDIER garrisons in Wutai had been trimmed down, because Shinra no longer saw Wutai as a credible threat, and most of those regulars who had made it through the war had been promoted out of range to actually do much on the battlefield.
Cloud sighed, and dug out a ration bar. He wrinkled his nose at the taste, but ate anyway. They were basically pure calories and a multivitamin rolled into one. He ate about a third, then wrapped it up again. He could make this one bar last all day, if he had to. He really didn't want to, but he might not get a chance to get mess later, if the enemy acted up again. Cloud knew he looked rather more skeletal than he should have because of his fast metabolism and all the meals he'd skipped and he felt really worn down. He wanted nothing more than a solid eight hours of sleep, and maybe a slice of Sephiroth's home made bread….
Cloud forcefully dragged that thought to a halt. Just the thought of that had made his stomach rumble and his mouth water…
He heard someone calling his name, and jerked out of the light doze he'd managed to attain, one filled with delicious food-smells. He contemplated lashing out at the blurry shape over him, but decided against it. Whoever it was might outrank him. Probably did, in fact, since the whole world of Shinra did.
He blinked blearily up at whoever-it-was, and discovered it was a familiar red-head in an equally familiar blue suit. He jerked upright and thanked the Planet he hadn't tried to hit him.
"Mr. Reno?" he asked. The Turk smiled.
"Hey, kid. Got some mail for ya," he said with a wide grin, tossing a very plain package to him. Cloud didn't even think of protesting the use of 'kid', merely caught the package, and read the note attached. It was from Zack.
The note told him to wait until he was alone to open the package, so he set it aside. His instincts were screaming that the 'gift' was a materia. He could always tell a materia, even through a box; one of the instincts that made him so good at his job. Reno smirked.
"I don't think your friends trust me, ne?" The smirk widened. "Then again, I wouldn't trust me. But I know it's a materia, so I don't know what he could be trying to hide. It's not even a summon materia."
Cloud blinked stupidly at Reno. "How would you know?"
The red-head flipped his pony-tail over his shoulder casually. "Hey, I just know, man. I hate materia enough to be able to avoid it."
"You hate materia? How can anyone hate materia?"
Reno smiled with almost frightening solemnity. "You're in materia sciences; you're supposed to like materia. But for me, it just brings back bad memories, ne?" Cloud nodded and pressed no further. Pissing off a Turk was one of the fastest ways for a man to die. The man abruptly smiled again and hefted his nightstick to his shoulder. "Well, now that I'm done playing errand boy, I guess it's time to carry out my big important mission, huh." The Turk eyed him for a minute, then turned and walked away. Cloud's system had jolted full of adrenaline at the look Reno had given him; his work face, Cloud suspected. Why it had been directed at him he couldn't imagine. But it had certainly been scary. That was probably why the man everyone saw as an irresponsible prankster had been made a Turk.
Just before the Turk stepped out of sight, he turned to look over his shoulder at Cloud. "Oh, yeah. Watch your back, ne? Hojo seems to want you back in Midgar, for some reason." Then he was gone, his blood-red ponytail following like a battle flag behind him.
* * *
Reno frowned thoughtfully. He'd decided in the end not to turn in the blonde. He'd discovered that the decision wasn't really self-preservation versus the right thing; it was self-preservation versus self-preservation and doing the right thing. After all, Zack and Sephiroth would kill him just as surely as 'retirement' would.
He was also beginning to suspect that Hojo had not gone through official channels. If the President had okayed this mission, the first one to hear about it would have been Lark, and she would have been the one to inform him. The whole thing just didn't gel with his observations of how Shinra worked.
Of course, if he was wrong, he was dead meat. Which would be kind of detrimental to his younger siblings' health, as well. He figured he'd had his shot at life and screwed it up enough, so he really didn't care about himself if he was 'retired', but his brothers were depending on him, and he didn't want to endanger them.
He began to have second thoughts. Zack and Sephiroth were both honorable enough not to involve his sibs in this, but Hojo would without hesitation. Maybe he should have taken the blond in…. He was reasonably confident in the fake I.D.s he'd made for his family, but was he confident they'd stand up to a full out investigation by the Shinra?
Reno sighed. He did have another mission here, before he could go back to Midgar. He decided that he'd finish his very definitely official mission here, then he'd worry about possibly taking the teenaged Specialist back with him to Midgar.
* * *
Yay! I hope you had fun reading this! I sure liked writing it!
Hey, if anyone wants to draw some art for this fic, feel free. I would love to see how you all are seeing these things happen. Not to mention, I love drooling over bishonen…*grin*
I know the whole drug addiction thing's been done before, but it just fits Reno, ne? Just you guys wait until you meet his sibs! In case it wasn't quite clear, Reno hates materia because it reminds him of glow and he gets cravings from it. And he is a good guy. He's just a bad guy, too.
Now, what could Cloud's little instabilities from the psych exams be? *grin* I am so trying to suck you people in for more. Shameless self-promotion is my friend!