Lights and Shadows

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Disclaimer: FFVII and all its characters belong to Square Enix Co. Ltd, not me. I am simply using that world and its characters as muses and a writing exercise. Sue me; you get nothing, good day, sir. I'm a minor you can't sue me so ha! I laugh at you.

Italics - mental conversations

' ' - thoughts

" " - normal conversation

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Chapter Three: Earning Your Respect

It had been a long, tedious afternoon for Sephiroth. He barely harbored any sleep from the previous nights say for a few hours here and there. He had spent his entire week filling out reports and attending meetings it barely left time for much of anything else. Even right now at 6:00 in the morning he found himself at his desk, sifting through papers and dreading tomorrow. He had been scheduled for an appointment with Hojo and Gaia knew that didn't beget good things.

He leaned back into his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His coffee mug was empty which left him with no means of staying awake and faking his body into thinking it didn't need sleep. He was just blessed that Donovan usually reported in late every day or he would feel the need to invest into some acetaminophen as well.

He scuffed. Less than two weeks ago he had been fighting against the greatest of Wutai warriors being reigned as a hero, but now Midgar's hero had been reduced to a common paper signer and report filer. He fingered Masamune's sheath idly. Even the sword ached to be used. Sephiroth wouldn't deny it; he loved the heat of battle and pride he took in wielding his weapon.

He couldn't take it any longer as he rose from his desk. He needed to train anyway, damn be to what Shinra wanted to be done. Besides he needed to check on the progress on the newer batch of SOLDIERs that were just admitted into the program. He checked out with his secretary, Randsom, before exiting towards the elevator.

His hopes fell, though, when a certain boy, who appeared as though he just stuck his finger in an electrical socket to get his hair ready in the morning, bumped into him. Zack gave him the characteristic smile he gave him every time they met. The boy perplexed him to no end. While he regarded him with nothing more than he would a grunt, the boy tried to pry into his personal matters. He would constantly ask about his well being out of concern and never looked upon him in admiration or awe as other SOLDIERs would.

"Good morning, Sephiroth. So feeling any less grumpy than usual?" Zack asked. And there it was again, no general or sir, just Sephiroth. Sephiroth hated it. No one had dared to validate him as a human being by calling him by his name.

"You're here early, Donovan," Sephiroth replied. He didn't really know what much else to say. It wasn't as if social interaction was something he was well versed in. He didn't know how exactly to react to somebody actually showing concern and not the fake kind as to suck up to him.

Zack looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "You know the usual response to that would be, sure, I'm feeling great today, Donovan. How are you?" Zack said and then let out a long sigh, "And please do us both a favor and just call me Zack for once. It isn't like we don't see each other everyday now."

Sephiroth really couldn't understand this overly optimistic pest in front of him. He made it a point to avoid as much human contact as necessary, but here he was being forced into situations he didn't want to be in. His feline eyes narrowed. "Donovan, I'd advise that you don't lecture me on my conduct because I have more than enough to get onto you about."

"Zack," he corrected. "And who said I was lecturing?" He looked around. "It's all in your head, Sephiroth."

"Sir."

"So anyway, Sephiroth, where were you running off to so early in the morning?"

"Training." Why did he bother to dignify his question with an answer? He tapped a single digit against Masamune.

Zack's face lit up like a neon billboard sign. He grinned. "Hold on and I'll join you. Floor 49, right? I'll be there with my sword and we can spar." Zack turned on his heel and walked back to the elevator, hitting the floor number for his apartment in the headquarters.

Sephiroth rolled his eyes and boarded the other elevator. His morning was once again turning into another big headache. But he might as well test his lieutenant since he had never seen him actually fight.

The elevator dinged signifying his arrival on floor 49. He disembarked and surveyed the area. Only the SOLDIERs were allowed to use this facility and even then they came in like shifts. Morning brought the third class, noon presented the arrival of the seconds and in the evening the first class men trained according to their platoons and abilities.

Everyone stopped as he passed by and saluted him and only stopped when he was well out of sight. He walked briskly down the hall to his private training room that Shinra had so graciously provided him. He slid his keycard through the slot and pressed his palm against the wall near the door. There was a small beep noise as the light changed from red to green and the door slid open.

The room smelled distinctly of pine and citrus from the religious cleaning of the hardwood floors. His nose wrinkled at it. It was funny how it contrasted with the smell of sweat and human body odor that filled the hallways of this floor. Sephiroth was a brat in the sense he didn't want any of his things smelling of sweat or blood. And if the general wanted his training room to smell like roses, then it would damn well smell like roses.

He waited patiently near the tinted windows of the room staring out to the grimy city of Midgar. He could look down upon them and observe, but they weren't allowed the same pleasure and in parts he could see the ladders and service elevators that led down to the slums. He had never been there and decided that he never would. The slums were supposed to be a bigger hellhole than the top plate, not to mention the top siders or sky dwellers as the slum people called them weren't taken kindly there.

He crossed his arms and shifted Masamune slightly. What in Leviathan was taking his lieutenant to fetch his weapon? Maybe the idiot had gotten lost on the way or decided that his brain cells weren't enough in number to figure out how to work the elevator. He was about to battle with an invisible opponent when Zack entered and the door slid closed behind him.

The boy looked at home holding the large broad sword that was slung across his back. The weapon looked extremely unwieldy, but then Zack was a SOLIDER. The boy grinned and twirled the massive blade around his hand.

"So you still feel up to taking me on, Seph?" Zack questioned with that goofy smile of his.

"Hmph. We'll see if you're just all bark, Donovan."

Both of them drew their swords and stared each other down. The round hadn't begun yet but they are already sizing one another up. Their two weapons were in perfect contrast with one another. Zack's Buster sword was a massive broad bladed weapon marred with several dents and scratches. It radiated pure strength and guttural power. Masamune, on the other hand, was a long, thin, slightly curved blade that contained no mars and was so perfectly polished that you could clearly see your own reflection in it.

"Hajime," Sephiroth said in a calm voice.

The two stood silent for the longest while. Zack holding his sword straight in front of him while Sephiroth held Masamune poised like a snake near his head. Zack started to become fidgety and bounced slightly trying to find a weakness in Seph's defense.

Sephiroth smirked clearly enjoying this little mock fight. Though, he would have to hold back so not to kill his second. That wouldn't settle well in his conscious. Born killer he may be but only out of necessity. He waited and his patience was rewarded when Zack rushed forward to make the first strike, always the worse move to make. Sephiroth raised Masamune and met Zack's swing with a well formed block.

Zack growled, but Sephiroth had to be impressed by his strength and skill in which he wielded his blade like it was an extension of his arm. Zack charged again feigning to the right, but attacking low and was once again parried. Zack remained calm and circled him looking for openings.

Any on looker wouldn't have considered them warriors but dancers using metal props as they danced eloquently across the performance stage. The two performers danced until one made a crucial error and found himself soaring through the air to land face first on the ground.

Sephiroth was over him faster than any eye could register as if he teleported and not moved at all. Zack turned around to get up and continue the fight until he saw Sephiroth's blade pressed near his neck. Zack looked up with a mixture of shock and breathlessness. 'So this is why he was the general.' The fight had been decided in less than seven minutes, but it seemed like eternity evading that blade.

Sephiroth remained steady with his sword unwavering not even the slightest shake. He tilted his head slightly. "Yield?"

Zack nodded and helped himself from the floor, wiping the dust off himself. He felt fine now, but knew the bruises would form later and attack him relentlessly. "Damn, did you have to throw me back so hard? Now, my ass won't leave me alone for the rest of the week!" Zack absently rubbed at the new ache developing in his lower region.

Sephiroth shook his head and started walking away, sheathing his sword. "Complain about your problems on your own time. We have work to accomplish. We have to inspect the third rank SOLDIERs."

"Man, I'm so glad that our General is so compassionate," Zack said, his eyes diverting off to the side, "And what do you mean get to work? I recall this being your idea to take a training break." He added with a scowl on his face.

"Your commentary has been noted, Zachary,' Sephiroth replied, detachedly. He couldn't help but to have a little more respect for his lieutenant after that bout.

"I'm sure." Zack had a slightly sarcastic look to his features. He waited a few moments before following after him and then picked up on the small nuance. "Wait… Did you just call me Zachary instead of Donovan?"

"…" Sephiroth just turned his head enough to allow one eye to narrow at him.

"You did which means I must've done something to please you." Zack was smiling without bearing his teeth.

Sephiroth sighed. "All you did was prove that you're a decent fighter. At least I know now you didn't get your position because of money." He couldn't really say that he knew a man that had actually worked his way up besides himself, but even that was a given due to his certain 'abnormalities.'

Zack cocked his head to the side with one eyebrow raised. "This is the closest I'm going to get to 'you're a good fighter, Zachary' that I'll receive." He shook his head in slight annoyance throwing his arms slightly in the air before returning them to their usual position at his sides.

"Zachary?"

"Yes, Sephiroth?"

"Get your mind back on the task at hand." His voice was again cold and detached from the world of the living when before it had some life to it.

"Yes, sir…" Zack said in disappointment. He hung his head slightly before lifting it up with a mental smile. 'Well, at least it is some improvement. I can't ask for much when attempting to become on civil terms with a cold hearted bastard such as him. Well, he didn't reprimand me for calling him Sephiroth and he's calling me Zachary now, not Donovan. I suppose he respects me a little or else he wouldn't allow that. Score, Zack: 1 Sephiroth: 0' Zack looked up and swore he saw Sephiroth flinch as if he had heard his thoughts, but quickly dismissed it as him being distracted by his ass pain.

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