Left Behind

A Story in the Turks of Midgar Arc

Chapter 4 – Ten Minutes

Disclaimer: As much as I adore the Final Fantasy series, I don't own any of the characters therein, and I don't foresee any major OCs in this story arc. See my profile page for details.

Sephiroth watched as Jesse stepped back and grinned. She was insane. Beautiful, deadly, but insane. She was going to fight him, rather than simply letting him attack and meeting her fate, she intended to get her kicks in. It only made Sephiroth more enraptured with her.

Jesse smiled gleefully, watching Sephiroth take his stance by the stairs. She rested her weight on her right foot, hands casually in her pockets. It was the Turks fighting stance, only she had modified it a bit, incorporating the style of a half-Wutainese from Nibelheim that she'd studied with when she was younger. Zangan had taught her many things, stopping in Midgar every few months to train her more. Most importantly, he had taught her how to use injuries to her advantage. She was even more dangerous when wounded, knowing a thousand different techniques to use with any possible injury.

Vincent had said that she was almost too good, something he had warned her about when she became a Turk. She knew that power was gauged by how many SOLDIER First Class a Turk could take out in ten minutes. When it had been her turn to play, they'd run out of SOLDIERs.

Jesse twitched her fingers in her pockets, waiting for Sephiroth to make the first move.

Sephiroth watched Jesse, glancing at the timer on the explosives behind her.

Ten minutes.

So fast that Jesse could barely see him, Sephiroth slashed at her, the blade of Masamune hissing past her ear. Jesse didn't move until Sephiroth was retreating to his position by the stairs. She dashed forward, getting behind him and delivering a high, spinning kick to the back of his head. She did handsprings all the way across the basement floor, barely missing the swings of Masamune as she went. Her feet hit the far wall, and she rebounded upwards, clinging to a pair of support beams on the ceiling. The whole time, she had her eyes closed, forcing Sephiroth the fight her in the eerie green glow of his eyes alone.

Taking a breath, Sephiroth closed his eyes, lightly touching the core of power in him before opening them again. Now, nearly the entire room was bathed in ghostly green shadows, flickering with every measured, carefully soundless breath he took. Jesse could see the green from behind her eyelids, seeing a two-fold purpose to the increase in Sephiroth's glow-range. Now, she couldn't tell he was near by the shine of his eyes, and he had a greater visual range.

The kick she had delivered would have crushed the skull of a SOLDIER Third Class with little problem, but it had merely stunned Sephiroth. In an untouchable corner of her mind the clock on the explosives ticked down, and Jesse smirked to herself. The display on the bomb was set on a ten minute timer. The bomb itself was set for five.

One way or another, Sephiroth wouldn't be walking out of this alive.

Neither of them spoke, the time for words had passed, or maybe it had never been there to begin with. Jesse admitted to herself that she was impressed with the strategy he was using, going from one end of the room to the other, listening for her breath. Or maybe he was good enough he could hear her heart pounding out the bass line of the latest rap song. If it hadn't been for her unique ability to feel the change in air currents as he passed, he probably would have gotten her by now. It had been a long time since she'd last fought someone so Mako enhanced, and her legs were starting to cramp from the strain of holding her still between the beams.

The timer in her mind whispered two minutes across her thoughts.

Much as she would have liked to stay put and let Sephiroth simply die in the blast, he needed to be hurt for thinking he could beat her. Jesse refused to even acknowledge the possibility she was going back into close range because her legs couldn't hold her.

Sephiroth her the whisper of cloth against cement just before he felt Jesse land on him from above, the Turk wrapping her slender but strong legs around his shoulders and clawing her hands into his face to cover his eyes. No wonder she kept her nails long. Short of cutting off his head or losing his eyes, there was no way Sephiroth could pry her off him, so he took advantage of the situation and reached up beneath Jesse's arms to tickle her sides.

It was most unorthodox, and Sephiroth would have put his hands somewhere else on her torso, but he never touched a lady like that without permission. Jesse was forced to let go from shock, and she was easily thrown into the nearest wall. A cloud of cement dust rose from her impact, showing a glimpse of her poised on the wall itself, perfectly balanced, just before she vanished.

The timer in Jesse's mind had run down to fifteen seconds, and as she felt it would be foolish to die in a basement with the Great Sephiroth, she made it to her bag and up the stairs before he realized where she was.

Swearing profusely, Sephiroth went after her, determinedly refusing to let her go.