Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII is SO not mine.
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The thunderous thrumming of an arriving helicopter. The low, continuous droning of countless voices and conversations, some aristocratic and put-on, most idle SOLDIER and trooper chit-chat. The faint strains of Shinra's surprisingly cheerful and upbeat marching anthem.
He heard it all. Even in the seclusion of a spacious dressing room off of the cavernous Shinra auditorium, his Mako-enhanced hearing picked up every sound of the impending, hastily arranged ceremony to formally commemorate the Company's young prodigy before shipping him off to the killing fields of Wutai. It was all for him, and while it did invoke a sense of the pride he'd promised himself on so many occasions, he truly wished the formalities like this would be kept to a minimum.
This importance…he wanted it. As well as the fear, reverence, or whatever else went with it…he just preferred it all be expressed with less ostentation and applause. He could already these social affairs, as frequent as he was sure they'd be from now on, would be tedious. All of this nonsense accomplished next to nothing anyway.
Sephiroth stood before a full-length mirror, gazing solemnly back at his reflection. He'd been standing so for quite some time; not that he had suddenly taken an interest in gawking at his own appearance, though. He had elected to choose attire other than that wretched blue uniform, and after he'd changed, checked it all in the mirror to make sure everything was in order. Somewhere in the process of doing so, he'd gotten lost in a thought he didn't remember the inception of, and had remained thus.
A sharp, sudden staccato on the door dragged him out of his reverie. Mildly annoyed at being torn from a notion he couldn't even recall, he answered with an intentionally brusque, "Yes?"
"I apologize for disturbing you, but, um…I have a visitor here who insists on seeing you. Right now," a timid voice explained.
Deep-seated intuition and a tinge of pessimism gave him an almost unfortunate certainty who the visitor was, and to say it didn't just totally shoot anything remotely positive about the day all to hell would have been a catastrophic understatement.
Heaving a gusty, aggravated sigh, Sephiroth broke away from the mirror and started for the door. No less than five steps away, he heard a quiet, hastily mumbled protest retorted by a harsh barking reply out in the hall…and halted. A scowl darkened his pale features as the door was flung wide, and, minus the owner of the meek voice who he assumed had been some rookie trooper, one ebon-eyed scientist unceremoniously invited himself in.
"I don't recall allowing you in here," Sephiroth growled at the glowering little man. He didn't budge.
Nudging the portal shut behind him and moving what little bit he could into the room as his son's steadfast frame allowed, Hojo deliberately fiddled with his glasses and returned the icy glare he was being greeted with. "And I don't recall needing permission to see my own son," he snapped.
"You do now," the young man asserted coolly.
"Is that so?" Hojo mused aloud.
"Quite."
"I see." The scientist bobbed back on his heels and clasped his hands behind him. "All right then…may I be permitted to speak with you for a few of your precious minutes, before you formally and honorably ascent to your rightful, much-lauded and esteemed rank with personal graces from the mighty President himself? May I be allowed the privilege?"
In a heated resurgence of the brazen temper he had regrettably inherited from, or developed in response to, his father, Sephiroth gruffly shot back, "You're already in here and wasting my time, you ass; don't be condescending with me!"
A bitter smirk curled up the corners of Hojo's thin lips. "Oh ho," he chuckled, "You've certainly gotten quite caustic, Sephiroth." His bottomless black orbs hardened with a sharp steel edge that shadowed the cruel mirth on his sallow face. "Since when does a son address his father like that, hmm?"
"If you'd ever been a true father to me, I'd treat you as such, Hojo." The spontaneous burst of rage subsided, but his words were still rigid and laced with cold, smoldering fire. His jaw tightened and he pierced the scientist's ebony gaze with a searing jade one of his own.
A long moment passed without a word spoken between the two. The animosity was tangible.
The intense silence was brought to an end by a brief, resounding chorus of laughter erupting from the auditorium. As it died away, Sephiroth sneered with disgust and turned from Hojo. He returned to the mirror. "Speak your piece then, and get out. I don't have all day."
"Of course not. Neither do I. I have to make sure I get to my seat on time. Heavens forbid I miss the proudest moment in my son's life."
Sephiroth made no comment. That didn't even warrant the thought for a reply.
Seeing that he wasn't going to earn retaliation off of his last remark, Hojo let it drop and, now that he'd been more or less allowed into the room, moved in further, stopping just behind Sephiroth. He peered around the young man and into the mirror as well, taking careful note of his new, more…intimidating…attire.
"Goodness, Sephiroth…such a get-up! All that black leather…are you supposed to be death incarnate or something? Did Shinra's standard uniform suit your lofty taste no longer?"
"If it comes to it, yes," Sephiroth replied, exasperated. "And if that's how you care to put it…no, it didn't." He stepped away and to the side to keep a better view of the shifty scientist, distrustful as he yet was of the man being behind him. "Now get to whatever point it is you have, Hojo. Don't think I have enough respect for you not to kick you the hell out of here."
Hojo squinted hard at Sephiroth, torn between whether or not he should simply comply, or throw more kindling into the young man's smoldering temper and set it ablaze with another cutting retort. He didn't need to read into his tone or expression to know he was perfectly serious about forcefully expelling him; it was the ideal reaction, and wholly expected.
It was just that bickering with Sephiroth like this was almost fun. Testing his son's temper as children so often test their parents' authority…he enjoyed it. And it was part of his studies anyway, so he was half-tempted to egg Sephiroth on, but some shred of sense convinced him not to…for now, at least.
The scientist shrugged his narrow shoulders and off-handedly conceded. "I came to congratulate you," he said, fishing around in one of the oversized pockets on his lab coat. "And give you a little present, if you'll take it." He found the object of his search and drew it out, offering it to Sephiroth in an open palm.
A single piece of shimmering green materia.
Sephiroth's skeptic glare shifted from Hojo's face to the apple green orb and back again several time. (I've got free supply of whatever materia I choose now, and he knows that. What kind of…farce is this supposed to be?)
"Well, it's not going to jump into your hand, Sephiroth. Do you want it or not?"
"What type is it?" Sephiroth queried, even as he reluctantly raised a black-gloved hand to take it.
"A type SOLDIER will never give you the opportunity to have otherwise." The scientist's black orbs lit with amusement when he saw a flash of recognition cross the young man's face…just as his slender fingers grazed the materia's smooth surface.
Sephiroth involuntarily recoiled, jerking his hand back as if the orb was an irate, snapping animal. "Ultima," he hissed through clenched teeth, shooting Hojo an infuriated scowl. "You…bastard."
"You don't like my gift? Here I thought you would, since you used it so exceptionally well," Hojo mocked. "The Science Department paid quite a sum to get ahold of such a high-level piece of materia, you know. Ultima is a very rare find, even for Shinra. You should be honored I'm offering it to you for nothing."
"Shut up!" Sephiroth barked, violently swatting the orb from Hojo's extended hand for emphasis. It ricocheted from the mirror frame, clinked to the floor, and rolled between them to come to a stop in a corner near the door. "I honor nothing where you're concerned!"
"Disrespecting an elder isn't very becoming of SOLDIER's soon-to-be general."
"Go to hell!" Sephiroth snatched up the Masamune -- which was now encased in a brand-new, lacquered ebony sheath -- from where it was propped against the wall, and fastened it to settle on his hip. He stormed toward the door, and without another word, yanked it open and headed off for the auditorium, leaving a maliciously grinning Hojo alone in the room where he hadn't been wanted in the first place.
Laughing quietly to himself at the results of his verbal prodding, the scientist moved to retrieve the roughly discarded materia, absently tucking the emerald orb back in his pocket. "Yes, yes," he cackled, "Should that happen…I'll see you there…"
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A/N: Yes, this one's quite a bit shorter than the last, oh…four chapters, but I had to get this posted before I added another week to the wait. The next chapter will continue directly off of this one, and probably won't be very long either, I'm afraid… -_-'
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The thunderous thrumming of an arriving helicopter. The low, continuous droning of countless voices and conversations, some aristocratic and put-on, most idle SOLDIER and trooper chit-chat. The faint strains of Shinra's surprisingly cheerful and upbeat marching anthem.
He heard it all. Even in the seclusion of a spacious dressing room off of the cavernous Shinra auditorium, his Mako-enhanced hearing picked up every sound of the impending, hastily arranged ceremony to formally commemorate the Company's young prodigy before shipping him off to the killing fields of Wutai. It was all for him, and while it did invoke a sense of the pride he'd promised himself on so many occasions, he truly wished the formalities like this would be kept to a minimum.
This importance…he wanted it. As well as the fear, reverence, or whatever else went with it…he just preferred it all be expressed with less ostentation and applause. He could already these social affairs, as frequent as he was sure they'd be from now on, would be tedious. All of this nonsense accomplished next to nothing anyway.
Sephiroth stood before a full-length mirror, gazing solemnly back at his reflection. He'd been standing so for quite some time; not that he had suddenly taken an interest in gawking at his own appearance, though. He had elected to choose attire other than that wretched blue uniform, and after he'd changed, checked it all in the mirror to make sure everything was in order. Somewhere in the process of doing so, he'd gotten lost in a thought he didn't remember the inception of, and had remained thus.
A sharp, sudden staccato on the door dragged him out of his reverie. Mildly annoyed at being torn from a notion he couldn't even recall, he answered with an intentionally brusque, "Yes?"
"I apologize for disturbing you, but, um…I have a visitor here who insists on seeing you. Right now," a timid voice explained.
Deep-seated intuition and a tinge of pessimism gave him an almost unfortunate certainty who the visitor was, and to say it didn't just totally shoot anything remotely positive about the day all to hell would have been a catastrophic understatement.
Heaving a gusty, aggravated sigh, Sephiroth broke away from the mirror and started for the door. No less than five steps away, he heard a quiet, hastily mumbled protest retorted by a harsh barking reply out in the hall…and halted. A scowl darkened his pale features as the door was flung wide, and, minus the owner of the meek voice who he assumed had been some rookie trooper, one ebon-eyed scientist unceremoniously invited himself in.
"I don't recall allowing you in here," Sephiroth growled at the glowering little man. He didn't budge.
Nudging the portal shut behind him and moving what little bit he could into the room as his son's steadfast frame allowed, Hojo deliberately fiddled with his glasses and returned the icy glare he was being greeted with. "And I don't recall needing permission to see my own son," he snapped.
"You do now," the young man asserted coolly.
"Is that so?" Hojo mused aloud.
"Quite."
"I see." The scientist bobbed back on his heels and clasped his hands behind him. "All right then…may I be permitted to speak with you for a few of your precious minutes, before you formally and honorably ascent to your rightful, much-lauded and esteemed rank with personal graces from the mighty President himself? May I be allowed the privilege?"
In a heated resurgence of the brazen temper he had regrettably inherited from, or developed in response to, his father, Sephiroth gruffly shot back, "You're already in here and wasting my time, you ass; don't be condescending with me!"
A bitter smirk curled up the corners of Hojo's thin lips. "Oh ho," he chuckled, "You've certainly gotten quite caustic, Sephiroth." His bottomless black orbs hardened with a sharp steel edge that shadowed the cruel mirth on his sallow face. "Since when does a son address his father like that, hmm?"
"If you'd ever been a true father to me, I'd treat you as such, Hojo." The spontaneous burst of rage subsided, but his words were still rigid and laced with cold, smoldering fire. His jaw tightened and he pierced the scientist's ebony gaze with a searing jade one of his own.
A long moment passed without a word spoken between the two. The animosity was tangible.
The intense silence was brought to an end by a brief, resounding chorus of laughter erupting from the auditorium. As it died away, Sephiroth sneered with disgust and turned from Hojo. He returned to the mirror. "Speak your piece then, and get out. I don't have all day."
"Of course not. Neither do I. I have to make sure I get to my seat on time. Heavens forbid I miss the proudest moment in my son's life."
Sephiroth made no comment. That didn't even warrant the thought for a reply.
Seeing that he wasn't going to earn retaliation off of his last remark, Hojo let it drop and, now that he'd been more or less allowed into the room, moved in further, stopping just behind Sephiroth. He peered around the young man and into the mirror as well, taking careful note of his new, more…intimidating…attire.
"Goodness, Sephiroth…such a get-up! All that black leather…are you supposed to be death incarnate or something? Did Shinra's standard uniform suit your lofty taste no longer?"
"If it comes to it, yes," Sephiroth replied, exasperated. "And if that's how you care to put it…no, it didn't." He stepped away and to the side to keep a better view of the shifty scientist, distrustful as he yet was of the man being behind him. "Now get to whatever point it is you have, Hojo. Don't think I have enough respect for you not to kick you the hell out of here."
Hojo squinted hard at Sephiroth, torn between whether or not he should simply comply, or throw more kindling into the young man's smoldering temper and set it ablaze with another cutting retort. He didn't need to read into his tone or expression to know he was perfectly serious about forcefully expelling him; it was the ideal reaction, and wholly expected.
It was just that bickering with Sephiroth like this was almost fun. Testing his son's temper as children so often test their parents' authority…he enjoyed it. And it was part of his studies anyway, so he was half-tempted to egg Sephiroth on, but some shred of sense convinced him not to…for now, at least.
The scientist shrugged his narrow shoulders and off-handedly conceded. "I came to congratulate you," he said, fishing around in one of the oversized pockets on his lab coat. "And give you a little present, if you'll take it." He found the object of his search and drew it out, offering it to Sephiroth in an open palm.
A single piece of shimmering green materia.
Sephiroth's skeptic glare shifted from Hojo's face to the apple green orb and back again several time. (I've got free supply of whatever materia I choose now, and he knows that. What kind of…farce is this supposed to be?)
"Well, it's not going to jump into your hand, Sephiroth. Do you want it or not?"
"What type is it?" Sephiroth queried, even as he reluctantly raised a black-gloved hand to take it.
"A type SOLDIER will never give you the opportunity to have otherwise." The scientist's black orbs lit with amusement when he saw a flash of recognition cross the young man's face…just as his slender fingers grazed the materia's smooth surface.
Sephiroth involuntarily recoiled, jerking his hand back as if the orb was an irate, snapping animal. "Ultima," he hissed through clenched teeth, shooting Hojo an infuriated scowl. "You…bastard."
"You don't like my gift? Here I thought you would, since you used it so exceptionally well," Hojo mocked. "The Science Department paid quite a sum to get ahold of such a high-level piece of materia, you know. Ultima is a very rare find, even for Shinra. You should be honored I'm offering it to you for nothing."
"Shut up!" Sephiroth barked, violently swatting the orb from Hojo's extended hand for emphasis. It ricocheted from the mirror frame, clinked to the floor, and rolled between them to come to a stop in a corner near the door. "I honor nothing where you're concerned!"
"Disrespecting an elder isn't very becoming of SOLDIER's soon-to-be general."
"Go to hell!" Sephiroth snatched up the Masamune -- which was now encased in a brand-new, lacquered ebony sheath -- from where it was propped against the wall, and fastened it to settle on his hip. He stormed toward the door, and without another word, yanked it open and headed off for the auditorium, leaving a maliciously grinning Hojo alone in the room where he hadn't been wanted in the first place.
Laughing quietly to himself at the results of his verbal prodding, the scientist moved to retrieve the roughly discarded materia, absently tucking the emerald orb back in his pocket. "Yes, yes," he cackled, "Should that happen…I'll see you there…"
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A/N: Yes, this one's quite a bit shorter than the last, oh…four chapters, but I had to get this posted before I added another week to the wait. The next chapter will continue directly off of this one, and probably won't be very long either, I'm afraid… -_-'