A/N: I know, I know. Why do I do this to myself? At least this one only took a day. I'm proud of myself for that. The idea just hit me sort of spur of the moment, and I just couldn't scratch that creative itch until I wrote it. I actually skipped two classes to write this. ^_^"

So, the inspiration for this came from the song "Superman (It's Not Easy)" by Five For Fighting. I listened to it, and I immediately thought Sephiroth. I'm moderately pleased with what came out. And just as a forward apology, I'm sorry if it gets confusing at times. I was trying to follow the song; trying to paraphrase it. I like paraphrasing. I actually do it a lot. I know, I'm a dork.

Anyway, here's all that pre-story stuff I'm sure you're dying to know.

Summary: Sephiroth's thoughts on his life, his position, and how people see him. Set during the Wutai war, before he went all crazy.

Warnings: Angst, extremely mild language (I think he says "damn" once *gasp*), and implied yaoi (Seph/Cloud)

Rating: T for little bit of language and implied yaoi. Essentially, not something for people under the age of… 14, I guess.

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy does not belong to me in any way, except, of course, the game. I also do not claim any rights to the song "Superman (It's Not Easy)" as it is © Five For Fighting.

Okay, on with the story!

Superman

I get asked a lot, by those brave enough to approach me, what it feels like to be "on top", to be the single most revered and beloved man in the world. Many times have I been asked this, and to this day, I'm still unsure as to how to properly answer. Because of this, I usually reply with something along the lines of, "I'm used to it," simply because that's what people want to hear. Or rather, that's what the Shinra Corporation wants me to tell them. President Shinra, a coward of a man, tells me that I am the company's greatest asset, and that I should love it, and that I should frequently tell people how much I love it. I should love being "on top", able to fly far above the heads of all mere mortals on the Planet. He's trying to fill my head with thoughts of power and arrogance; of soaring over everyone, simply because I am the Great General Sephiroth, and I am supposed to make people fear me.

But I can't stand flying. I can't stand the ever-present sense of other people's awe that follows my every movement. I can't stand the fact that Shinra expects me to be so naïve as to follow his every order like some kind of dog, trained to sick and kill at his master's command.

But I'm not a dog. I'm not Shinra's pet, nor am I some kind of lab rat for Hojo to experiment upon. I'm more than that. I'm more than a soldier, more than a weapon. No one sees that I'm a man. All they see is a pretty face and a killer instinct that has even the bravest, strongest people cowering and lusting at the same time. It's pathetic.

Perhaps I am affected by the company's demands. After all, I do everything they ask; I kill whomever they tell me to. It's the only education I've ever received. But that Shinra… he made a mistake in giving me free reign of the entire company, for in doing so, he gave me access to anything I want to see, and with the training I've received in the military sense, and the reputation I've gained because of said training, I don't have to threaten twice while I'm negotiating. As a result, I've succeeded in further educating myself.

Really all I want is knowledge. Or at least that's what I thought. But I'll get into that later. I just wanted to find out about myself, to find better parts of me that I could use to fill the gaping hole in my existence. I wanted to find my human side.

Sometimes, I doubt I even have a human side. I think that maybe all I ever can be is the vicious warrior I have been displayed as. But then there are times when I am alone—rare moments, they are—and I just wish it would all go away. I wish I could cry. Crying always fascinated me because it's just so… human. No other creature cries. I've never cried. Does that mean I'm not really human? I'm not sure. I want to cry. I want to be included; see what I'm missing. But I also want to cry because… well, I'm not sure why. Perhaps to prove, even if only to myself, that I can.

There are many things I would cry for. I would cry for myself, as selfish as that sounds. I would cry for my parents and the lack of knowledge I have of them. I would fall on my knees and weep for the life I never knew; the life I missed because I grew up in a lab. I would mourn on bended knee, searching for a way to lie about some far away home I'll never see; about a life I'll never lead.

My, my. I must be sounding quite absurd. I won't apologize though. Even heroes have a right to bleed, you know. Perhaps I am disturbed for wanting to just be human, but heroes also have a right to dream. Though I don't know how much of a hero I really am. I do believe I've killed more people than I've saved. I suppose it's fitting though. How can I save anyone when I'm the one drowning so deep in myself? Who will come to save a man who can't save anyone else?

No one. No one will save me because I'm supposed to be the hero. I'm the one whom enemies fear and little boys idolize. I'm the one who men respect and women fall in love with. I'm the savior, and the executioner, combined and perfected by science in the same body. It's not as easy being me as everyone thinks it is.

Perhaps I do wish to fly. I would fly far away from all of this, far away from myself, even. I would go somewhere where no one knows of Sephiroth. I would go somewhere where no one knows what Sephiroth has done, or has the ability to do.

But I can't fly. And even if I could, there is no such place. So don't worry, you can all sleep soundly tonight, knowing the Great Sephiroth will still be here in the morning, bittersweet in his very existence. Listen to me, speaking in the third person, laughing at myself as if I really have flown away and left my body behind. It's just wishful thinking so don't fret. I haven't gone crazy or anything.

Now, while I do hate my position, I'm not saying I dislike what it can do for me. Though it is tiring to have everyone essentially worshipping the ground on which I walk, it also means that if someone should catch my eye, I will have no problem getting him. Yes, him. I find females to be shallow and annoying. I know I'm generalizing—probably incorrectly—but in my twenty years of life, I have yet to meet a woman who isn't chomping at the bit to bed me because I'm pretty and powerful. Should I meet someone genuine in her advances, I would be more than capable of changing my opinion.

I used to find it strange that for every woman who showed interest in me, two or three men would do the same. Now, don't misunderstand, I have met more men than I care to count who have had intentions identical to those of all the women I've come in contact with, and I won't lie by saying that I haven't fallen for their charades and ended up in bed with people who have less than honorable intentions, both men and women. But I also won't lie by saying that I've never met an honest man.

Take Zackary Canidae, for example. A fine soldier and a good man, I was pleased when Zack was presented to me after I requested a partner. It wasn't that I needed help, I was simply lonely, to be quite honest. Though Zack can be annoying most of the time, I must say that things are never boring.

But Zack isn't enough. I want more than entertainment. I want companionship. I want a lover, but even more than that, I want to be a lover. It seems to me that I've been missing something wonderful, something profound. Perhaps it's love; I'm not quite sure. But I'm not so naïve that I can't see there's something missing. Heh, perhaps I am human after all. I long to be loved genuinely, and to be able to return the sentiment.

This is where Cloud Strife fits into my life. I met him because Zack took a particular liking in him, and I must admit that I find myself happily, yet frustratingly fascinated with the shy, blond boy of only fifteen years. Fifteen years. It seems the recruits keep getting younger. I suppose that's my fault. Whatever my level of contempt for my position is, I can't help what others think of it, nor can I help the fact that it's because of me and my damned position that young boys are deciding to throw away their potential lives so they can sell themselves to this forsaken company in hopes of one day becoming me—becoming their hero. It's sickening.

But I digress. Although Cloud is one of those boys who signed his life away in order to be like his hero, he's different somehow. He isn't in it to prove himself. He's in it because he hates how people look at him. He hates being objectified because he has a pretty face. He hates his position, and that's something I can relate to.

I know Cloud was surprised that I approached him when I did. We had only met formally once or twice, but that was enough for me to become increasingly interested in knowing him. The more I watched him as he progressed rapidly through the SOLDIER training program, the more I desired him, mentally and physically. Without thinking, I confided this information in Zack, and of course he, being the bumbling idiot he is, went straight to Cloud with claims of, "Sephiroth has a crush on you!"

I can't blame Cloud for being intimidated and, for lack of a better term, freaked out. Likely, he'd never thought of being with another man, least of all me (I'd seen pictures of a girl in his room), but I can't be sure of his thoughts, because he did come when I asked him to meet with me, and he accepted my kiss without hesitation, other than that which came from his shyness, a particular trait that hit me where it mattered, and left me almost literally begging for more. We began an affair that was the most blissfully dangerous occurrence of both our lives.

But I was called to war, ending our endeavor prematurely. I have suspicions that I'm here, in Wutai, because someone found us out, and since I am the biggest form of publicity for this accursed company, I imagine they didn't want such an uncouth relationship to soil their name. I suppose I should have seen it coming. I'm the Great Sephiroth, flying above everyone else in this world. Perhaps I was never meant to ride with clouds between my knees… hah, quite literally. I'm doomed to live a trapped life; no matter how much power my position gives to me.

Shinra can't possibly imagine me as anything other than his General, his prodigy, his pet. I'm not really sure I can imagine me as anything else. I sometimes look at myself in the mirror and wonder what else lies within me. Shinra sees a weapon where I see a man, however stained with the blood of the silly people who thought they could conquer me. I see myself standing there, silver hair draping around me like a sheet made to trap me and keep me warm at the same time. I see my eyes, glowing green and cat-like from the mako in my system, and I wonder if I purposely make those eyes seem like a one-way street, able to see through everything and everyone and offering nothing in return. Maybe there isn't anything there to see. Then, I think of Cloud, and how his pretty blue eyes seem to bore right through any walls and "One Way" signs I may have subconsciously placed around myself. And then I have to smile.

Cloud sees me as a man. A man he loves. He told me so.

He doesn't see my bloodstained sheet, or my walls. He sees the special things inside of me, things I can't see, myself. He appreciates Sephiroth the man, and he is beautiful to me because of that. Gods, I miss him.

I wish he could be here. No, a war on the opposite side of the world is no place for a beautiful fifteen-year-old boy. I wish I could be there. No, that's no good either. Midgar is my cage. I don't want to be locked away again. I wish… I wish we could be some place far away. Away from this gods-forsaken war, away from Midgar, away from SOLDIER. I don't want this anymore. I want to be a man, living with someone I love while I look for my dream. Maybe that is my dream. I do have a right to dream. I have a right to cry. I have a right to bleed. I have a right to love. I have a right to want people to understand that. But that's one thing my position can't grant me. No one will ever understand. No one except Cloud.

From where I sit now, I can see the complimentary mirror that came with the General's quarters. It's a shallow mirror, because all that's looking back at me is a shallow being, a weapon. Without him here, that's all that I am.

It's not easy. Dear gods, it's not easy. Especially not for me. I think for me, it's harder than it could be for anyone else. Because they don't know. All those little boys who give up their lives to be me… they don't know how hard it is. They don't know that it's not easy to be a weapon, feared and beloved, loathed and lusted over, idolized and iconized. It makes me want to cry. But I can't cry because I am a hero, and heroes don't cry. Sephiroth doesn't cry.

It just can't ever be easy… being me.

A/N: So that's that. Yay for angsty Sephiroth! For those of you who know, or care, I most certainly have not abandoned Warrior, or the other oneshot I'm working on, about which I will reveal nothing! Muahaha! A few people know of it, and I promise it will come… sometime. Not sure when, but sometime.

So, reviews? Comments? Complaints? Again, I apologize for the all-over-the-place-ness. I really wasn't trying to be confusing. _ Please don't be upset!

Wow, this is the first oneshot I have completed. Go me! But it's not the last, so be prepared to endure more of my weirdness in the near future!
:-P