Chapter Two: The Prince and the Pauper
Out of the cage… out of the cage, that's all I've wanted for so long now… And now I'm finally going to get it. Why am I so afraid? Just because I don't know what's coming- I haven't while I've been in here either; why does this familiar glass room suddenly seem so comforting…. Why can't I face the possibility I may never come back here after swearing I'd rather day than live here one more day.
Why is everything so dark?
What ever happened to green and blue and a sky? What ever happened to sun and clouds? Why can't I breathe?
Put me back, I've lived in my cage so long, I'm not safe outside the boundaries of my bars….
"What kind of job, Turk?" Cloud asked disinterestedly, pushing himself to his feet and tugging on the pair of worn, brown leather gloves he'd recently acquired in a street brawl. He flicked his wrists, watching the bandage on the left to make sure it stayed in place. "Or is that a redundant question, considering who's doing the hiring?" He looked up at the Turk expectantly.
"It's a special kind of job- one that not many people are suited for. Rufus thinks you can do it." The Turk didn't look very pleased about this. In fact, he looked decidedly miffed about the turn of events that placed the street rat higher up the pecking order than himself; or at least it would, if the wretch turned out to be as good in a fight as he built himself up to be.
"Oh he does, does he? What do you think Turk?" Cloud rested his left hand on his hip and his lips curled up in a bitter sort of smile.
"I think you'll be back here or dead in an hour or less," he shoved his hands into his pockets angrily and started to stalk away, assuming Cloud would follow him.
"Where you going, Shinra?" the blonde crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow. "You think I'm going to trust you just like that? After everything your cursed bosses have done to me and the whole population? After you being ready to kill me not too long ago? With you just being a stranger in freakin' Midgar? Give me one good reason to trust you."
The Turk rubbed his temples as he turned back to the young man he was supposed to recruit. "Look, kid, I personally don't care what happens to you or if you come with me- except I'll get my ass fried if I don't bring you in. Safe and sound. They want you whole. So, you can trust me because if I try anything funny it's my butt." He extended a hand in a symbol of camaraderie.
"You could be lying about that." Cloud tried to bite back the sardonic grin that tugged at his lips.
"You're mocking me and I won't stand here and take it." The Turk glared at him menacingly.
"Yeah? I thought you just said you couldn't hurt me?" the grin was getting more and more insistent.
"As long as I don't maim you it'll be all right-" he leapt forward, trying to take the slender warrior by surprise.
Cloud had been waiting for the attack he'd provoked and his arm shot up, catching the blow that was meant for his head against his left forearm and tried to get a quick jab in with his right fist; only to be blocked in turn by the Turk.
"Would you want to risk it?" Cloud hissed menacingly. Not liking the close quarters he was sharing with the heavy set man, he sneered and struggled to push passed the Turk's defense; their arms trembled in the battle of strength.
"How can you be so strong-" the Turk grunted as he tried to gain some territory, "when yer so scrawny?"
"Sometimes you have to-" the blonde shoved hard and knocked his rival in the gut with his own hand. Cloud grinned, panting for air as the Turk stepped back, winded, "...look beyond appearances. See, I've got this-" he leaned over and scraped beneath a trash heap nearby where he had been sitting and hauled up the biggest damn broad sword the Turk had ever laid eyes on. The massive blade was as long as the man who wielded it was tall and almost as thick.
"Fuck!" the Turk spat in astonishment.
Cloud smiled wryly as he swung the gigantic weapon up above his head, around once in a tight circle and then down again to rest on his shoulder. "And I'd have to be pretty strong to carry it, wouldn't I?"
"Lemme see!" the Turk muttered hastily, grabbing for the sword. Cloud shrugged and lifted it off his shoulder, holding it out with only one hand on the long handle. He didn't let it show how much work it really was to do this... he wanted to take the other man by surprise only to have himself made a fool of yet again by a twenty-one year-old kid.
"Be my guest." Was all he said.
The Turk seized the sword's thick handle, clenching it tightly in his right hand, a look of triumph passed his features momentarily- then Cloud released his own hold of his sword with a sadistic smirk.
"Oomph!" the sharp point hit the ground with a heavy 'clang' and the Turk coloured as he grasped it in both hands and tried to lift it horizontal again. He finally managed to pull the tip up with much grunting and groaning and let it drop again- then watched as Cloud swung it easily onto his shoulder again- grinning the whole time.
"I don't use a sword." He said touchily in his own defense, "And the balance is terrible."
Cloud laughed, "Yeah, yeah it is. There's really nothing you can do about it- swords aren't meant to be this big y'see."
"Where'd you get it, street rat?" The Turk was still panting from the exertion of lifting the impossibly big sword. Cloud's eyes narrowed and the crystalline blue orbs slowly hardened to chips of ice as the mocking smile faded from his expression.
"Hey! Yeah, you, kid!" the tall form of a man with long, wild black hair towered in his line of vision. The speaker wore thick cotton pants splattered with engine grease, old food, paint and other unknown substances, his chest was clad in a tight, sleeveless turtleneck that may or may not have been blue once. Over his shoulder he had strapped the battered remains of a breastplate to his bandoleer. On his back and protruding over the one little bit of armor was a huge broadsword that looked impossible to wield its immense weight visibly straining the bandoleer.
"I- I," he stuttered, not certain if he should tell the truth and risk another… episode…
"Well, spit it out, kiddo!" the voice was loud and friendly and the brown eyes that suddenly sank to his level as their owner knelt down next to him were laughing and kind. And they were luminous with a slight hint of interior light… They widened in shock as they returned his gaze, "Your eyes glow!"
"I-I-I know, I-I-"
"C'mon baby-blues, from now on, you stick with me, nobody with them glowin' peepers should be alone on the street. 'Specially not when they're- "
"Five, sir." He found his voice at long last.
"None of that sir with me yer little lordship, wherever you learned all that gentleman stuff, ya won't be needin' it here. Forget it, make room in yer spiky little head for somethin' useful. You call me Zack and nothin' else, alrighty?"
"All… right… Zack, sir."
Zack sighed, grabbing the boy's tiny, pale hand, "What d'I just tell you? Learn to follow orders quick, kid, or you'll be on your duff faster than you can blink and say Jack Robinson."
"Yes, Zack, sir…" Cloud fell silent for a long moment before looking up at his new guardian with a puzzled look that just wouldn't fade away, "Zack, sir… who is Jack Robinson?"
Zack groaned, but his eyes twinkled with the laughter he was fighting to keep on the inside. The kid was all right.
"None of your concern." Cloud spat, turning the razor sharp single edge of the huge sword on his shoulder outward on an angle that would be lethal to the Turk with the slightest provocation.
"Fine... someone else will look after your insolence, I don't care enough to make it an issue with you, kid." He wiped his forehead and swallowed heavily, looking about to suggest they begin moving.
"You're afraid of me." Cloud commented, his expression stony. Behind the unfathomable blue eyes, however, he was carefully considering this new development. The sword was always excellent protection for him, mostly by its mere presence, but he hadn't expected to intimidate a Turk so easily... Then again, his enemies didn't usually get the chance to feel the weight of the weapon for themselves. He flexed his free hand and pondered what to do with the new power he'd discovered.
"Don't flatter yourself..." the Turk trailed off, Cloud didn't let the smirk he felt on the inside show, "Now come if yer coming, I'm tried of these games." He started walking again. Cloud would have shrugged if not for the steel weight of the sword on his shoulder, but he did slowly follow, picking his way through the trash filled streets to avoid sharp objects that would pierce his bare feet.
They walked in silence for a time before the Turk halted in front of a thick, chain link fence topped off with barbed wire.
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Yuffie sighed as she balled up her calligraphy for the fifth time, leaning back in her desk chair and swinging her feet over to rest on the desk as she flicked the crumpled, inky mess at the face of her young tutor. He grabbed it in midair and dropped it onto his own desk, big, red head lifting again to stare at his pupil.
"If you're not going to make the effort I really don't see the purpose in my being here." His voice was smooth and even, sounding cultured and intelligent, almost old in a youthful tone. It was strange to see it come from his body. The voice was also kind and gentle, soft and rarely raised above a quiet speaking volume for polite conversation. He seemed to have some kind of accent that was not of Yuffie's homeland, or Midgar for that matter.
Yuffie eyed him as she listened to the exasperated tone, lazy with sitting around all day she wasn't very spurred by the comment. "To enjoy the pleasure of my company, of course, Red!" she spread her hands with a showy grin, as if the answer were obvious.
'Red' battled the urge to bang his head against the heavy book he was reading. "I am here to educate you, as difficult a concept as that is for you to grasp, Ms Kisargi. Your father wants you to be a good empress when the time comes. I'm sure he wouldn't waste his time and mine if you weren't the only heir." Evidently, Red had had this conversation before and it was becoming tiresome.
"You should relax, Red, you're so uptight." Yuffie grinned again, "What does an empress need with calligraphy anyway? I'll have scribes for writing. And really, who said I was so keen on being empress? Maybe I don't wanna get stuck up in the pagoda for the rest of my life? Doesn't anybody stop and think about that?"
The lion-like beast that was Nanaki Amunred of Cosmo Canyon stood with lightening speed, leaping the few feet to land right in front of his charge, claws digging into the polished wood of the desktop. "You don't have a choice." He said from deep in his throat, his usually calm disposition wavering with his orders from the Emperor Godo and with his patience wearing dangerously thin.
"Who says I don't? Mebbe I got a plan." Yuffie appeared unruffled, though on the inside she was congratulating herself for not soiling her underclothes in shock and terror at her teacher's sudden move. She pulled herself together fairly quickly, though- after all, it was just Red.
"Don't try to be mysterious please, Ms Yuffie, it really won't work." Nanaki sounded almost pleading, "Get your head out of the clouds for just long enough to complete one lesson, one- that's all I ask." He looked up at the small teenage girl imploringly.
"Why should I?" Yuffie narrowed dark, obsidian eyes, crossing her thin arms and pouting.
Nanaki sat back on his haunches, ready to give complete sincerity a try with the sixteen-year old heir, "Yuffie… There's unrest in Midgar that grows with every year the Shinra royal family remains in power. The politics are shot all to heck there since about the year you were born… the people… made a grave error. There was a hope for their society as well as the whole Western Continent- but they misjudged that help too quickly and made a terrible mistake. Soon there will be an uprising to overthrow the corrupt monarchy. What happens when the Wuitaian Empire must be ready to seize control and there is no true monarch on the throne?"
"Conquest…?"
Nanaki bowed his head and said softly, "It will be better than Shinra… at least it would be if Wuitai were in the hands of a good ruler, herself."
"You're trying to guilt me, Red, and I don't like it."
"You need to accept your responsibility and these are the lengths you've driven me to. You have no one to blame but yourself."
"Not if I can help it."
Nanaki longed for his homeland, his native language, flowing script and his dusty library of ancient tomes that never answered him when he asked questions aloud. The fiery heir go to the Midgar slums for all he cared…. But that wasn't true…. His conscience annoyed him from time to time.
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"The pillar?" Cloud gazed up at the towering edifice in distaste, it did effectively serve the purpose it was erected to serve; it completely dominated life in the slums and it crushed the hope of the people.
"Yeah, get climbing." The Turk took out a key and unlocked a hefty gate that blocked off the area around the enormous pillar. Cloud raised an eyebrow at the command, the Turk caught the look, "Kid, if yer gonna work for the royal family of Shinra, yer gonna need to learn to do what they tell you."
"I haven't taken a job yet, Turk," Cloud replied coolly, stepping into the locked off area and grabbing a rung of the ladder that led up to the first flight of stairs, "I'm just curious." There's that word again.... I wonder how the cat's doing.
"Yeah, whatever Blondie," the Turk slammed the gate behind them. "Don't think you'll be walking out of the palace again once you're in unless the prince sends you out." He clambered up the ladder behind his more agile companion who had already reached the top and was looking down on the Turk with an air of contempt.
Cloud scowled at the remark; "I can get out."
"Sorry," the Shinra employee didn't seem at all apologetic; "nobody gets out unless Shinra wants 'em to get out." He started climbing the first flight of stairs that led steeply up into the artificial sky.
"I do." Cloud said flatly.
"Delusional too... great." The Turk muttered under his breath, behind him, Cloud smiled grimly, having heard him.
The long haul up the pillar always left this particular Turk winded and uncomfortable in the heavy suit he wore, but it seemed to have little effect upon Cloud Strife, who continued to survey the scenery nonchalantly as if he were sight seeing, rocking his sword back and forth on his shoulder. They traveled in silence, mostly because the Turk didn't have the wind to talk and Cloud saw no reason to strike up a conversation. He usually didn't. The stairs ended barely halfway up the metal pillar and they were greeted at the top of the last flight by huge steel doors into the tower itself.
"Here's where they decided to make life easier for us." The Turk said, punching a code into the keypad next to the elevator doors.
"I wasn't complaining." The street rat was grinning again, his mood improving with watching the Turk embarrass himself.
"What's with you anyway?" the Turk in question demanded irritably, knocking his fist into the wall and staring over at Cloud with lazy annoyance.
Cloud's cold attitude returned with a vengeance. "I'm not someone who tells people like you anything they don't need to know. That's what's 'with me'."
Silence.
The Turk regarded the elevator doors sliding open and wondered what the hell had happened to him to make him so passive all of a sudden. Anybody else doing this to him and he would have had them dead hours ago- or at least badly wounded and good and scared. It wasn't as if the street rat was quite that imposing.
Cloud stepped passed him and leaned his sword against the wall, crossing intricately muscled arms over his chest and staring at the Turk with moody blue eyes that looked as though they could burn through steel.
Okay, so maybe the street rat was that imposing- he could still take him out. Right.
"You'd better not pull this superiority shit with the prince Rufus," the Turk warned, sulking against the wall as his stomach lurched with the movement of the lift. "He won't shrug crap like that off. He's one hell of a spoiled brat, so be respectful."
"Why, exactly, would I feel the need to respect a spoiled brat?" Cloud's tone was colourless and his sudden total lack of emotion was unnerving his companion in the small space.
"Because this particular spoiled brat only has to snap his fingers and you'll be upside down in a vat of lard hanging by your own entrails." The Turk tapped his knuckles against the wall impatiently; he'd been the recipient of this exact threat and the fact that it didn't seem to faze Cloud at all irritated him even more.
"I don't think I have too much to worry about." The youth said evenly, shaking a few strands of his hair out of his eyes.
"Oh, I think you do." The elevator stopped with a last great lurch and the doors opened to reveal a long white hall with nothing whatsoever inside it. Nothing except a small party of black clad men with a figure in white at its center.
"This the one, Reco?" the man in white stepped forward. He wore white slacks and a long white overcoat with a black turtleneck peaking out of the collar. His face was narrow with soft lines and his blond hair was cropped in the back and long on top, a few slick tendrils fell in front of his eyes. "Of course it is," he continued, answering his own question, "you were right- the resemblance is just enough."
"Yes, your highness," Reco, the Turk, said somewhat belatedly, "From a distance..."
"With some work," the prince smirked, dismissing the guards in front of him with a wave of his gloved hand and approaching Cloud with an elusive smile. "Cloud Strife, I presume? I am Prince Rufus of Shinra... the heir to the throne. You will, if I decide, be working for me- directly."
"I will, if I decide, be working for you." Cloud clenched his teeth, smiling bitterly and giving a mocking bow, "Your highness." His eyes had gone a moody mixed gray around the edges and they glinted dangerously.
Rufus didn't bat an eye, "You'll be learning about insolence and its consequences, Strife, and I think you'll find yourself with an improved attitude."
"There's nothing wrong with my attitude." Cloud said, as even and calm as ever.
"Interesting..." Rufus smiled coyly, acting very much as if he knew something Cloud didn't. "Before I start a debate with you, I'd better decide if I even wish to hire you- hadn't I?" Rufus smile widened, something about the look was decidedly filthier than the lowest streets of Midgar at their worst. He reached up, the black leather glove on his hand making it contrast sharply with his sleeve and the room around them. Rufus grabbed Cloud's sharp chin- gently- between his thumb and forefinger and turned it to the side with small pressure from his fingers- observing his captive with a calculating expression.
Cloud found himself tolerating this, much to his own amazement. Something told him this job wouldn't be exactly what he was expecting- although he couldn't really say what it was he thought he would find- and besides that, it was probably wise to leave the heir's hand unmolested. Regardless of how strange its travels seemed...
"What precisely will I be doing?" Cloud asked, his voice again devoid of the tiniest fraction of feeling. Rufus turned his face to the other side, preventing him from getting a good look at the prince's expression, all he knew was Rufus continued to peer at him with a scrutinizing gaze.
"You will be informed when- or if- I have decided you will be getting the job." Rufus looked at him a moment longer then fingered a lock of his hair, muttering under his breath, "...too long... too gold."
There was a long pause as Rufus turned and walked back to the group of men in black. As soon as he was within their ranks he whirled to face Cloud again and smirked as he snapped his fingers.
"XIOO1- attack!"
Cloud didn't have time to think before he had tossed the black shape that had darted towards him against the wall and pounced on it, pinning it to the floor. With the threat neutralized his body's instincts slowly relinquished control on his brain and he could think again.
"Why?" he demanded, testily.
"I had to test you. You never gave Reco here," he gestured to the suit who was still standing by the doorway with his hands clasped behind his back, "much of a chance to observe your fighting prowess... your physical fighting prowess, that is. I was impressed with your mental acrobatics, which you did give Reco plenty opportunity to sample."
"I'm blushing here." Cloud muttered sarcastically. "Now have you made up your mind about this job?"
"Well... on the job, you couldn't carry this..." Rufus had been planning to dangle the youth's sword temptingly- but found out all too clearly that he couldn't and had to be satisfied with holding the handle with the blade on the ground.
Cloud leapt to his feet, ignoring the guard below him that also scrambled to a standing posture. "Give me back my sword or I will let you know first hand how much 'fighting prowess' I've got." He balled his hands into fists, fighting the urge to take a swing before the prince had a chance to respond.
Rufus laughed, "I admire your spirit, really, but no matter how great the warrior- there's no way you could make it out of here alive if something untold were to happen to me."
"Then I would make it dead... with honour." Cloud again, seemed unfazed by the threat.
Rufus laughter was edged with grudging respect, "Alright Strife, I'll give you back your sword- on only one condition, someday you tell me where you got this thing. I've never seen anything like it." The prince offered his free hand in Cloud's direction, "Is it an accord?"
Cloud nodded assent and stepped forward- ignoring the prince's offer of a handshake and instead shouldering his sword with practiced ease. "Now the job." He said without missing a beat. "I'll find somewhere to keep this where it will be more than safe."
"All right, I won't lie to you Strife, this first job is nothing- but it is essential that you perform a menial task before I entrust something important to you- do you understand?" Rufus was suddenly business like and his face was completely serious.
"I am not a fool, I understand."
"Excellent. Your primary function in this assignment- as you might have already guessed- is to impersonate me. You will attend a rally where a company we back is speaking to the populace of the city they operate in and answering questions that come up. It could be messy. The reasons I am sending you are one: because I don't wish to endanger my life so pointlessly. Two: because I do not trust you and I want to before I send you on your real mission. Three: because there is really no cause for me to be there aside from to visually show the royal support behind this company."
"You don't want to bother to bore yourself- is that it?" Cloud was not amused.
Rufus smiled again, "More or less."
"Very well, I accept." Although how anyone could think I'm him is beyond me
"I am glad to hear it, it would have been very tedious for me to find someone else, and the next mission.... You'll want to prove yourself, Strife, the next mission is worth your pains, I assure you." Rufus tried to smile mysteriously, but unfortunately failed. "Obviously, steps will need to be taken before I can send you out as my double... first things first, simple things, you will be given clothes identical to these I am wearing and you will have your hair cut-"
Cloud raised his hand to stop the prince there and grinned for the first time since the Turk's antics.
"I'm not cutting my hair- I'm not dying it either, I want to be able to stop looking like you when I so desire. I am not being stuck as your double. Anything you do to me must be temporary or I won't take the job."
Rufus gritted his teeth, he was unused to having anyone talk back to him on anything- but he could tell this man was good, and something about him gave the young prince a vague sense of deja vu and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. He swallowed his anger as best he could.
"As you wish, Strife, I suppose that's perfectly reasonable." Rufus was practically biting into his tongue, "You will have to pull your hair back to make it look like mine and I will have to remember to tell them not to have you on the cameras at all, even from a distance. I would not ask you to ever be close to anyone who has met me- your face is much too angular, among other things, but if you aren't even willing to change that much you make it harder on yourself."
"I like a challenge." Cloud was indifferent.
"One thing I will insist is that you wear contact lenses- that is not permanent." Rufus smiled, but the expression wasn't the least bit reassuring.
"Fine by me." The street rat grinned, showing Prince Rufus that he hadn't gained this ground because Cloud had given in, but because Cloud had chosen to give it to him.
Rufus scowled, snapping his fingers and rushing out of the room with a flourish of his long white trench coat, his guards scurrying after him.
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The air was thick and hot, I always felt as if I were suffocating. It took all my strength to keep my breathing even as I stared down at my pale, sweat-damp hand pressed against the thick glass of my prison. My breath makes patterns around my fingers and it is all I can do here to watch the intricate swirls form before slide my palm across the surface of the transparent wall and destroy them again.
I have no idea how long it has been like this. It's like living inside a display case at a zoo… except it's worse than that, because at a zoo there are no tests… no experiments…
At least I don't have to wonder why this was done to me- or by whom. I've finally figured it out- I should have known it all along. Mother told me about who and what I am. I can barely remember seeing her face blur in and out that day when she explained it all to me, in one fell swoop, one sitting. Daddy had said that wasn't healthy for such a little girl, and mother had shushed him. We all knew how it was, but none of us seemed to have an idea of what to do about it.
They did something to my eyes a few days ago. At least I think it was days… it's hard to tell. The light never changes here in the white hell of the laboratory. I know it's a lab, I know the smell and I know the equipment… in strange way that's almost comforting, but only barely for a fraction of a second when I stop thinking. They put something into my eyes, they said it would help them with their observations. Perhaps I have tiny cameras in my head and they see what I see… but where is the use in that? It'd be easy enough to find their own fogged window into my world.
Why doesn't anyone save me? I would give anything I could for just one person who looked at me as me- as whatever they saw all people as- and not some kind of lab specimen! I would run through fire for one friend… one person who wouldn't hurt me… anybody, please… before I sink into myself and never resurface.
