Disclaimer: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! I don't own FF7?!?! AHHHHH!!!! My life is over!! *dies*
A/N: I said I'd get this chapter up, well, a long time ago, did I not? And I most certainly did not. Well, you can blame a shiny new PS2 game for this one being really late. That, and my muse decided to take a way longer mid-term break than me. ^_~
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(A year. A year, and I've gotten nowhere.)
Sephiroth, along with a handful of other low-ranking SOLDIERs--some he knew, some he'd never seen before--were congregated in the armory. Most of them were casually going through the kata, though two of the older ones had paired off and were sparring with each other. The armory master, a middle-officer in SOLDIER, sat on a bench near the door, idly wiling away his time watching the young men practice, occasionally shouting out a word of praise or disgust.
Sephiroth, as always, had chosen to train alone, walking through the kata as easily as he drew breath. (This is redundant.) he thought angrily, swiping his sword across in a lazy arc. (Guard duty and training…this isn't going to get me anywhere. And it's all thanks to Sergeant Bailey that I've not been sent to do anything important, and become as renowned as I could…no…will be. He would rather walk through the hells barefoot than see me outrank him.) A blur of silver brought the sword to a defensive position again. He paused there a moment, closing his emerald eyes.
"You! White-Hair!!"
At the sound of that voice, Sephiroth inwardly cringed. A year, and rarely did his commanding officer address him by his real name. He slowly and deliberately turned around to see Sergeant Bailey standing in the doorway, now rather loudly bad-mouthing the startled armory master.
When the sergeant noticed that he'd gotten the teenager's attention--and interrupted everyone's training--he barked at the others to keep going while bearing down on Sephiroth. He stopped barely a foot from him, apparently too incensed to notice that no one had obeyed his order to continue, and were now watching the two with subdued curiosity. They had already seen Bailey berate Sephiroth countless times, more often than not for some stupid, petty reason, but the novelty of witnessing such a commonplace occurrence had not worn off.
"All right…Sephiroth," Sergeant Bailey growled, the name slipping like acid from his lips. "I have finally found something I KNOW you can't do."
"Is that so, Sir?"
"Shut up!" The officer firmly pointed past Sephiroth. All the eyes in the room followed the gesture, but before the Mako-green ones could, the armory master hollered a protest.
"Sergeant Bailey! You don't have permission to give orders about…"
"Shut your trap, asshole! I don't need permission for this!" the sergeant retorted, briefly glancing back at him.
Sephiroth turned away from the officer, scanning the wall before him. (He doesn't think I can use a…rifle? Why would I want to anyway, what with my skill with…the…sword…) His thoughts trailed off when he caught sight of what the sergeant must have been indicating.
There, lying on the floor beneath the gun racks, glinting cold blue in the sparse light that filtered past the sable firearms above it, was an immaculate, slender-bladed katana that appeared to be as long as he was tall.
"This," Sergeant Bailey snapped, brushing past Sephiroth to stand nearer the indicated weapon, thrusting his finger in its direction. "This was brought back from Wutai a long time ago," he explained. "It took seven people to get this bastard in here, 'cause it's so frickin' heavy, and no one's been able to use the thing because no one can even get it off the floor on their own. What the hell it's made off, no one can figure out, but we do know that whatever that may be, it is impossible to use. Even for you."
Momentarily captivated by the sword's chilling sheen, Sephiroth reluctantly tore his verdant gaze from it, regarding the sergeant's maliciously triumphant visage with the customary indifference he'd come to treat most of the bitter officer's spite with, although this time, the smoldering contempt was ill-hidden in his Mako-bright eyes. "So, Sir, you want me to try to lift it, fail miserably, and then cower in a corner while you gloat over your extraordinary triumph?"
Sergeant Bailey belted out a sonorous peal of laughter. "Go ahead, Girly, take that almighty tone with me! You won't sound so damn superior when this metallic piece of shit gets the best of you! And it will, too! It's gotten the best of everyone!"
Sephiroth wordlessly moved closer, once again catching the sword's deceptively living glitter. He stared hard down at the blade's shadowed obsidian hilt. He crouched as close to the katana as he could, letting the short sword he still held slip gently to the floor as he reached past Sergeant Bailey's feet and twined his slender fingers around the cool hilt. Above him, the officer was still laughing, secure in the idea that he'd at last found something he wouldn't be able to excel at, or even do.
(This sword…) He couldn't bring himself to look away from the smooth, silver-blue blade that seemed to…beckon him…to wield it…
(This sword…this…is my…sword.)
Sergeant Bailey's laughter couldn't have ended more abruptly as Sephiroth, the impossible sword now easily in his one-handed grasp, rose beside him, looking no more strained over lifting it than he would have been over plucking a flower. The teenager's glowing emerald orbs met his defiantly, as they had already done so many times.
And the triumph that had lit the sergeant's flint eyes now shone in that Mako glow instead.
The sergeant was so stupefied and enraged that his only reply was a guttural string of inarticulate noises littered with whispered profanities.
"Cool!" one of the other SOLDIERs piped up, shattering the awkward moment. That jubilant, out-of-place comment earned him a sharp elbow in the ribs from another standing near him.
"Sergeant, Sir," Sephiroth said, horizontally leveling the sword at arms' length in his commanding officer's direction. "This is what you did not think I could do, is that correct?"
The sergeant's face drained of all color at the question. His hands curled into white-knuckled fists, and it became more than obvious that he was losing his already loose grip on his self-control.
"You…you…son-of-a-bitch!!" he finally shrieked, his voice rising an octave with exploding rage. Before anybody, save Sephiroth, could register the movement, he snatched the teenager's discarded short sword from the floor and lashed out at him with it, only to find his fury-blinded strike met by the pristine steel of the lengthy katana.
Sephiroth had deftly caught the swing with the narrow flat of the new sword, and now backed up a couple steps, taking the heat that had glossed over Sergeant Bailey's eyes as an indication that the short-wicked officer had at long last taken leave of his surely fragile sanity.
The armory master shoved past a pair of gaping SOLDIERs and confronted the sergeant, a rather bold move considering the fact that he himself was unarmed. "Sergeant Bailey, protocol strictly prohibits a superior officer from striking a junior officer unless it is with reasonable and justifiable intent. And this, Sergeant, is most certainly neither. Continuing this could result in suspension or worse, so I suggest you…"
Bailey momentarily snapped the sword at the other officer's throat. "Suggestions my ass," he hissed. "Screw SOLDIER protocol! I've had enough of this bastard kid's perfection! I don't know what the hell he's on, but he must still think he's God, because he always manages to piss the hell out of me by being able to do everything I know he can't and shouldn't be able to!! This is bull!! Let me be suspended then; see if I give a damn! It'll be well worth it to see him bleed!!"
At that, he shoved the armory master away, lunging at Sephiroth with a sharp crossways swipe that was once again deterred by the six-foot sword. With a bellow of aggravated fury, he slashed again, and again, and was each time stopped cold. "You can't block everything!" he hollered over the third clash of steel.
The power behind the last strike forced Sephiroth back another step. "The way you attack, Sir, it wouldn't be difficult to," he replied, lowering the long sword's deadly point a bit. "I may not have anywhere near as much fighting experience as you, Sir, but even the most novice SOLDIER could block all of that."
"Shut up!!" Sergeant Bailey slashed again, this time purposely allowing his sword to be caught by the other, using the momentum of both to slide his blade past Sephiroth's, scoring a superficial cut to the teenager's upper arm that sliced the fabric of his uniform and drew a thin trickle of blood. Over the reflective edge of the weapon he met those brilliant emerald eyes, now glowing hot with stimulated Mako, and bared a malicious smirk at them.
That split second of gloating was all the window Sephiroth needed. Using his free arm, the one the sergeant had wounded, he forcefully swatted the officer's sword arm back and away, leaving the scowling man unbalanced. He rotated the katana slightly and, in the blink of an eye, drove the flat of it brutally hard into the sergeant's vulnerable midsection, sending him flying backward to land hard on his back mere inches short of colliding with a set of gun racks.
Not a word dared to be spoken. A heavy veil of silence hung over the room for several moments as all present comprehended what had just happened. Not even the armory master knew how to react.
Sergeant Bailey, struggling to catch the breath that had been knocked from his lungs from the impact of both the sword and the floor, carefully levered into a sitting position, his pride clearly wounded more than his body. The insane glare in his eyes was now well beyond the point of being flat-out homicidal. He glowered intently up at Sephiroth, oblivious to the other eyes in the room that were trained on him.
"And…what I'm doing is…beyond protocol," he chuckled, first rising to his knees, than to his feet. He still had the short sword clutched in one hand. "You struck me, too. If I get suspended, than…so will you."
"No, he won't, Sergeant," the armory master said, stepping forward once again. "You initiated this; he was acting in self-defense. That's permissible."
The sergeant just snorted and slowly bowed his head. "I suppose it is, then," he conceded.
Sephiroth, who had lowered the katana and was absently inspecting the smudge of crimson on his arm, noted the blatant insincerity in his officer's far-too-easy concession. It wasn't hard to tell he had no intention whatsoever of letting this issue drop.
And he brought the sleek sword up just as the infuriated officer rushed him yet once more, wordlessly raising his own sword above his head to deliver a clumsy overhead slash to the Mako-eyed teenager who had become the sole target of his bitter, envious rage.
He cut his momentum abruptly as he found himself suddenly staring down the blade of the massive katana he'd known no one to have ever been able to wield. When he'd come to a complete stop, the deadly point was poised within an inch of his throat.
"This is…my sword," Sephiroth announced in a low voice. He let the blade linger a bit, lowering it only when he was sure the sergeant wouldn't try anything. "That is why no one else could use it. It is mine."
"That's a load of shit," Sergeant Bailey spat, his voice devoid of the bravado he'd demonstrated earlier. "I still say you're loonier than all of the Science Division kooks combined, including your…"
"That's enough, Sergeant." The armory master, satisfied that the officer was somewhat sated, tugged the short sword from the flint-eyed man's hand, who offered him little more than a mouthed profanity. "You're coming with me. The higher-ups need to hear of this." Taking a firm hold of his arm, he started for the door, moving through the small, willingly parted throng of SOLDIERs. Bailey only swore at him and yanked his arm free, barking at the other officer that he wasn't a damn half-wit child and could walk out on his own.
Sephiroth paid no attention to their departure. He didn't pay attention to the SOLDIERs that lingered, still caught in an intense, curious thrall.
All he could see was the elegantly curved sword that he now held in his grasp. It felt so…not familiar, but…right, to hold this weapon. There was just something about it, in its…way…that told him it was his.
(And it is. As I told him, no one else could wield it…because it was…waiting…for me. Yes, waiting. That's right.)
(And it is…the Masamune.)
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A/N: THERE! At last. Sephy has his Masamune now! Isn't that nice? Okay, now I know I've seen about three or four different lengths for the thing, but I've decided on six feet. Why? Because I just have, that's why. ^_~ And as for my interpretation of why only he can use the Masamune--it 'made' itself too heavy for anyone but him to actually use. I will elaborate more on this later on.
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Lady Spoon/Cutiemew: You bet! When do we leave? ^_^
ciara ^-^: That would be cute, wouldn't it? I might just want to keep Sephy all to myself, tho!
Kat_Aclysm: I'm glad you liked this anyway! Oh, and you've got some hilarious fics, BTW. I got a really good laugh out of 'em!
~*~*~*~
Another big thanks for the reviews, too! ^________^
Alright, let's see…what am I forgetting…? Oh yes. I can pretty much guarantee chapter ten will take awhile. (Like the last two haven't…o_O) Only this time, I'm actually telling you about it ahead of time!
A/N: I said I'd get this chapter up, well, a long time ago, did I not? And I most certainly did not. Well, you can blame a shiny new PS2 game for this one being really late. That, and my muse decided to take a way longer mid-term break than me. ^_~
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(A year. A year, and I've gotten nowhere.)
Sephiroth, along with a handful of other low-ranking SOLDIERs--some he knew, some he'd never seen before--were congregated in the armory. Most of them were casually going through the kata, though two of the older ones had paired off and were sparring with each other. The armory master, a middle-officer in SOLDIER, sat on a bench near the door, idly wiling away his time watching the young men practice, occasionally shouting out a word of praise or disgust.
Sephiroth, as always, had chosen to train alone, walking through the kata as easily as he drew breath. (This is redundant.) he thought angrily, swiping his sword across in a lazy arc. (Guard duty and training…this isn't going to get me anywhere. And it's all thanks to Sergeant Bailey that I've not been sent to do anything important, and become as renowned as I could…no…will be. He would rather walk through the hells barefoot than see me outrank him.) A blur of silver brought the sword to a defensive position again. He paused there a moment, closing his emerald eyes.
"You! White-Hair!!"
At the sound of that voice, Sephiroth inwardly cringed. A year, and rarely did his commanding officer address him by his real name. He slowly and deliberately turned around to see Sergeant Bailey standing in the doorway, now rather loudly bad-mouthing the startled armory master.
When the sergeant noticed that he'd gotten the teenager's attention--and interrupted everyone's training--he barked at the others to keep going while bearing down on Sephiroth. He stopped barely a foot from him, apparently too incensed to notice that no one had obeyed his order to continue, and were now watching the two with subdued curiosity. They had already seen Bailey berate Sephiroth countless times, more often than not for some stupid, petty reason, but the novelty of witnessing such a commonplace occurrence had not worn off.
"All right…Sephiroth," Sergeant Bailey growled, the name slipping like acid from his lips. "I have finally found something I KNOW you can't do."
"Is that so, Sir?"
"Shut up!" The officer firmly pointed past Sephiroth. All the eyes in the room followed the gesture, but before the Mako-green ones could, the armory master hollered a protest.
"Sergeant Bailey! You don't have permission to give orders about…"
"Shut your trap, asshole! I don't need permission for this!" the sergeant retorted, briefly glancing back at him.
Sephiroth turned away from the officer, scanning the wall before him. (He doesn't think I can use a…rifle? Why would I want to anyway, what with my skill with…the…sword…) His thoughts trailed off when he caught sight of what the sergeant must have been indicating.
There, lying on the floor beneath the gun racks, glinting cold blue in the sparse light that filtered past the sable firearms above it, was an immaculate, slender-bladed katana that appeared to be as long as he was tall.
"This," Sergeant Bailey snapped, brushing past Sephiroth to stand nearer the indicated weapon, thrusting his finger in its direction. "This was brought back from Wutai a long time ago," he explained. "It took seven people to get this bastard in here, 'cause it's so frickin' heavy, and no one's been able to use the thing because no one can even get it off the floor on their own. What the hell it's made off, no one can figure out, but we do know that whatever that may be, it is impossible to use. Even for you."
Momentarily captivated by the sword's chilling sheen, Sephiroth reluctantly tore his verdant gaze from it, regarding the sergeant's maliciously triumphant visage with the customary indifference he'd come to treat most of the bitter officer's spite with, although this time, the smoldering contempt was ill-hidden in his Mako-bright eyes. "So, Sir, you want me to try to lift it, fail miserably, and then cower in a corner while you gloat over your extraordinary triumph?"
Sergeant Bailey belted out a sonorous peal of laughter. "Go ahead, Girly, take that almighty tone with me! You won't sound so damn superior when this metallic piece of shit gets the best of you! And it will, too! It's gotten the best of everyone!"
Sephiroth wordlessly moved closer, once again catching the sword's deceptively living glitter. He stared hard down at the blade's shadowed obsidian hilt. He crouched as close to the katana as he could, letting the short sword he still held slip gently to the floor as he reached past Sergeant Bailey's feet and twined his slender fingers around the cool hilt. Above him, the officer was still laughing, secure in the idea that he'd at last found something he wouldn't be able to excel at, or even do.
(This sword…) He couldn't bring himself to look away from the smooth, silver-blue blade that seemed to…beckon him…to wield it…
(This sword…this…is my…sword.)
Sergeant Bailey's laughter couldn't have ended more abruptly as Sephiroth, the impossible sword now easily in his one-handed grasp, rose beside him, looking no more strained over lifting it than he would have been over plucking a flower. The teenager's glowing emerald orbs met his defiantly, as they had already done so many times.
And the triumph that had lit the sergeant's flint eyes now shone in that Mako glow instead.
The sergeant was so stupefied and enraged that his only reply was a guttural string of inarticulate noises littered with whispered profanities.
"Cool!" one of the other SOLDIERs piped up, shattering the awkward moment. That jubilant, out-of-place comment earned him a sharp elbow in the ribs from another standing near him.
"Sergeant, Sir," Sephiroth said, horizontally leveling the sword at arms' length in his commanding officer's direction. "This is what you did not think I could do, is that correct?"
The sergeant's face drained of all color at the question. His hands curled into white-knuckled fists, and it became more than obvious that he was losing his already loose grip on his self-control.
"You…you…son-of-a-bitch!!" he finally shrieked, his voice rising an octave with exploding rage. Before anybody, save Sephiroth, could register the movement, he snatched the teenager's discarded short sword from the floor and lashed out at him with it, only to find his fury-blinded strike met by the pristine steel of the lengthy katana.
Sephiroth had deftly caught the swing with the narrow flat of the new sword, and now backed up a couple steps, taking the heat that had glossed over Sergeant Bailey's eyes as an indication that the short-wicked officer had at long last taken leave of his surely fragile sanity.
The armory master shoved past a pair of gaping SOLDIERs and confronted the sergeant, a rather bold move considering the fact that he himself was unarmed. "Sergeant Bailey, protocol strictly prohibits a superior officer from striking a junior officer unless it is with reasonable and justifiable intent. And this, Sergeant, is most certainly neither. Continuing this could result in suspension or worse, so I suggest you…"
Bailey momentarily snapped the sword at the other officer's throat. "Suggestions my ass," he hissed. "Screw SOLDIER protocol! I've had enough of this bastard kid's perfection! I don't know what the hell he's on, but he must still think he's God, because he always manages to piss the hell out of me by being able to do everything I know he can't and shouldn't be able to!! This is bull!! Let me be suspended then; see if I give a damn! It'll be well worth it to see him bleed!!"
At that, he shoved the armory master away, lunging at Sephiroth with a sharp crossways swipe that was once again deterred by the six-foot sword. With a bellow of aggravated fury, he slashed again, and again, and was each time stopped cold. "You can't block everything!" he hollered over the third clash of steel.
The power behind the last strike forced Sephiroth back another step. "The way you attack, Sir, it wouldn't be difficult to," he replied, lowering the long sword's deadly point a bit. "I may not have anywhere near as much fighting experience as you, Sir, but even the most novice SOLDIER could block all of that."
"Shut up!!" Sergeant Bailey slashed again, this time purposely allowing his sword to be caught by the other, using the momentum of both to slide his blade past Sephiroth's, scoring a superficial cut to the teenager's upper arm that sliced the fabric of his uniform and drew a thin trickle of blood. Over the reflective edge of the weapon he met those brilliant emerald eyes, now glowing hot with stimulated Mako, and bared a malicious smirk at them.
That split second of gloating was all the window Sephiroth needed. Using his free arm, the one the sergeant had wounded, he forcefully swatted the officer's sword arm back and away, leaving the scowling man unbalanced. He rotated the katana slightly and, in the blink of an eye, drove the flat of it brutally hard into the sergeant's vulnerable midsection, sending him flying backward to land hard on his back mere inches short of colliding with a set of gun racks.
Not a word dared to be spoken. A heavy veil of silence hung over the room for several moments as all present comprehended what had just happened. Not even the armory master knew how to react.
Sergeant Bailey, struggling to catch the breath that had been knocked from his lungs from the impact of both the sword and the floor, carefully levered into a sitting position, his pride clearly wounded more than his body. The insane glare in his eyes was now well beyond the point of being flat-out homicidal. He glowered intently up at Sephiroth, oblivious to the other eyes in the room that were trained on him.
"And…what I'm doing is…beyond protocol," he chuckled, first rising to his knees, than to his feet. He still had the short sword clutched in one hand. "You struck me, too. If I get suspended, than…so will you."
"No, he won't, Sergeant," the armory master said, stepping forward once again. "You initiated this; he was acting in self-defense. That's permissible."
The sergeant just snorted and slowly bowed his head. "I suppose it is, then," he conceded.
Sephiroth, who had lowered the katana and was absently inspecting the smudge of crimson on his arm, noted the blatant insincerity in his officer's far-too-easy concession. It wasn't hard to tell he had no intention whatsoever of letting this issue drop.
And he brought the sleek sword up just as the infuriated officer rushed him yet once more, wordlessly raising his own sword above his head to deliver a clumsy overhead slash to the Mako-eyed teenager who had become the sole target of his bitter, envious rage.
He cut his momentum abruptly as he found himself suddenly staring down the blade of the massive katana he'd known no one to have ever been able to wield. When he'd come to a complete stop, the deadly point was poised within an inch of his throat.
"This is…my sword," Sephiroth announced in a low voice. He let the blade linger a bit, lowering it only when he was sure the sergeant wouldn't try anything. "That is why no one else could use it. It is mine."
"That's a load of shit," Sergeant Bailey spat, his voice devoid of the bravado he'd demonstrated earlier. "I still say you're loonier than all of the Science Division kooks combined, including your…"
"That's enough, Sergeant." The armory master, satisfied that the officer was somewhat sated, tugged the short sword from the flint-eyed man's hand, who offered him little more than a mouthed profanity. "You're coming with me. The higher-ups need to hear of this." Taking a firm hold of his arm, he started for the door, moving through the small, willingly parted throng of SOLDIERs. Bailey only swore at him and yanked his arm free, barking at the other officer that he wasn't a damn half-wit child and could walk out on his own.
Sephiroth paid no attention to their departure. He didn't pay attention to the SOLDIERs that lingered, still caught in an intense, curious thrall.
All he could see was the elegantly curved sword that he now held in his grasp. It felt so…not familiar, but…right, to hold this weapon. There was just something about it, in its…way…that told him it was his.
(And it is. As I told him, no one else could wield it…because it was…waiting…for me. Yes, waiting. That's right.)
(And it is…the Masamune.)
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A/N: THERE! At last. Sephy has his Masamune now! Isn't that nice? Okay, now I know I've seen about three or four different lengths for the thing, but I've decided on six feet. Why? Because I just have, that's why. ^_~ And as for my interpretation of why only he can use the Masamune--it 'made' itself too heavy for anyone but him to actually use. I will elaborate more on this later on.
~*~*~*~
Lady Spoon/Cutiemew: You bet! When do we leave? ^_^
ciara ^-^: That would be cute, wouldn't it? I might just want to keep Sephy all to myself, tho!
Kat_Aclysm: I'm glad you liked this anyway! Oh, and you've got some hilarious fics, BTW. I got a really good laugh out of 'em!
~*~*~*~
Another big thanks for the reviews, too! ^________^
Alright, let's see…what am I forgetting…? Oh yes. I can pretty much guarantee chapter ten will take awhile. (Like the last two haven't…o_O) Only this time, I'm actually telling you about it ahead of time!