Greetings once again! It's December, another month (and a bit) has passed, and for y'all I have another chapter. I'd intended to get this chapter out in November, but a number of things happened that required my attention and circumstances did not allow for this to happen. Some personal events have occurred that I'm not willing to go into here; suffice it to say that there's enough going on in my life right now that my productivity is being affected. I've got most of the next chapter done, but I am not counting on another update before the end of the year, and January is iffy if my situation does not improve. Nevertheless, I'll do what I can to keep things moving.
Y'all are keeping me going right now, I'm not going to lie. Keep the comments coming.
DaJuggernaut: Well holy carp. You've earned a cookie with that one. Glad to see you're enjoying the lore as well as the story.
thepkrmgc: That is a question that has an answer. The answer will have to wait until the next chapter.
Mugen-Muse: That would certainly be the smart option. Only time will tell how smart Shinra in general are, and Rufus in particular. Pride, as they say, goes before a fall.
kingred222: Don't take everything from the last chapter as an absolute statement of fact. Ranma is a massive wild card in a world that has a single set of established rules for very nearly everything, and has already learned and demonstrated that several of those rules are incomplete or outright wrong. I do have a specific line I'm following, and it will take a while to get there, so have faith that I'm not actually retconning everything. Some people, in-universe, will be wrong about things, usually because they lack information but sometimes for other reasons as well.
Threads are starting to converge, and will continue to do so for the near future. There's been a lot going on the last few chapters, and it's about time for a little payoff. For now, I hope you enjoy.
Chapter Thirty Eight
Communication Skills
[ ν ] - εγλ 0007, December 18
…Midgar…
"About twenty years ago," Reeve began, leaning against his desk, "I was a young man, filled with hope, the naivete that only comes from youth and inexperience, and the certainty that I could help improve the lives of people around the world. Shinra had already started working on Midgar before I was involved, but the existing schematics called for a source of power greater than what they already had. And while they could build the megastructures, they weren't going to have any way to make the city work as planned without some kind of major breakthrough." Reeve took a breath, doing his best to steady his emotions as he continued. "Aside from being a new headquarters for Shinra, the city was touted as a 'paradise for the people'. They already knew about mako energy, of course, and this was after they'd rebranded from Shinra Manufacturing Works, the old weapons dealers. But what they did not have was an efficient means of harnessing the energy that mako produced."
Reeve gestured to the scale model of Midgar that sat in his office. Kunsel turned slightly to look at it, but said nothing in response. "I designed the first mako reactor," Reeve continued. "It was supposed to free humanity, to eliminate need. I believe the words I wrote so optimistically on the design specs were 'making scarcity scarce'." The Director lifted one hand, pressing it into his face in shame. "If only I'd known then, I might have burned my blueprints and found something else to do with my life.
"My design for the mako reactor turned the goals of a city like Midgar from an ambitious pipe dream into a full-fledged reality," he continued, circling around the desk to the scale model. "But when that happened, Shinra quietly abandoned the pretense of it being 'for the people'. The original designs for Midgar were altered mid-construction. Recycling facilities for cleaning wastewater, safely disposing of toxins and other hazardous materials… one by one they simply 'disappeared' from the final results." He gestured to the model of Midgar, showing the overwhelming presence of luxury housing, high-end restaurants, theaters, and other activities aimed solely for the benefit of the height of society. Except where absolutely necessary for the comfort of the people living above the plate, there was not a single safety or sanitary facility like what Reeve had mentioned. He lifted the plate section from one sector of the model and turned it over, exposing the underbelly of the city. "The runoff, the waste, the toxic fumes, the industrial leftovers, all of it was just piped down and out to the slums. My attempts to add facilities back to the blueprints were replaced or redacted, my proposals were stricken from meetings, and the only explanation given was that there was no money left in the budget for them. There always seemed to be enough in the budget for the truly obscene amount of money given as bonuses to the other department heads, and even more for above-plate luxuries for anyone who greased Rupert Shinra's palms. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that the only 'people' Midgar was made for was anyone who could afford to live on top… that filling the slums with the plate's waste was the intended design, to encourage those below the plate to indenture themselves to those above, to…" he trailed off, his expression wrinkled in disgust.
Kunsel had found some of this on his stints browsing the deeper reaches of Shinra's digital and physical archives. Hearing the Director speak, though, it seemed as if he blamed himself. Which was absurd. He'd had no power at the time, he wasn't Director of anything twenty years ago. He was an engineer. A skilled one, one that Shinra would have been foolish to make an enemy of, but then Shinra had almost always taken the path of greatest resistance as a default. And even though he had learned details he never would have known before, he still felt he was missing a critical sliver of information. "Sir," Kunsel began, finally sheathing his sword. "Why are you telling me… any of this?"
Reeve's smile returned. He lifted a second plate segment from the model and turned to face Kunsel again. "Because when I tell you I am a traitor, I want you to understand my full meaning." He held the two plate models out to Kunsel, who took them, looking them over. The first one was just as Reeve had described it. Pipes, vents, all pointing down over open air and across the slums. Then he looked at the second one. In place of the open vents and pipes, there were structures suspended from the underside of the plate. He didn't immediately recognize their purpose, but it was enough from Reeve's description and the placement of the new structures to guess that they were some of the sanitary and safety facilities that had been scrapped from the original designs. "My work isn't complete. It may never be complete. But I've done what I can to make it right again. As long as the city continues to function, most of the other directors don't care what happens more than a meter beneath the surface of the plate. Out of sight, out of mind… and that's where I've been doing my work."
Reeve stopped, standing up straight, adjusting his tie. "People aren't commodities, the way Rupert wanted to treat them. They don't deserve to be manipulated like that, forced into servitude by necessity… a necessity created by us. If I can help some of them, then maybe that's something." He looked at the model pieces in Kunsel's hands. "But one day, when Shinra finds out about the funds I've embezzled to do my work, I will be branded a traitor, found guilty without trial, and executed."
Kunsel handed the pieces back to Reeve, standing in consideration for a moment. It was a lot to think about. The thoughtful silence stretched out as the SOLDIER considered what he had just learned, piecing together the Director's information and linking it to what he already knew about the man and his motivations. It seemed to Kunsel as if he was genuine. Which meant that there was only one way he could respond. "Zack," he said finally.
"Sorry, what?" Reeve asked, puzzled.
"You asked why I haven't been enhanced." Kunsel relaxed his stance some, leaning against a wall and crossing his arms lightly over his chest. "Angeal Hewley and Genesis Rhapsodos… along with Sephiroth, they were the brightest and the best during the Wutai War. And Shinra covered it up, but if you were around, you knew what happened. Genesis led an insurrection, and Angeal was sent to kill him. Their enhancements failed, they destabilized, and they were slowly dying on their feet. Instead of helping them, Shinra did everything they could to make them kill each other off as quietly as possible, before the private 'failure' became a public embarrassment to the company." He lifted one hand and rubbed his chin underneath his helmet. "They were my friends… or at least, I thought of them as friends. They deserved better than to be used up and discarded like yesterday's newspaper. And they weren't the only ones. Zack Fair, he was another First Class around the end of the war. He was also my friend. He was…" Kunsel hesitated. He knew that Zack had been responsible for Angeal's death. How could he not know? The younger SOLDIER had come back with Angeal's sword, and Angeal himself had not come back at all. The records were heavily redacted, sealed, and locked away somewhere in the depths of the records department, and Zack himself had been sworn to silence by Heidegger, then the newly minted Director of SOLDIER.
But Kunsel knew.
The masked SOLDIER was suddenly aware of the silence in the room, and that he hadn't said anything in a few seconds. He took a deep breath, and continued, "Zack went to Nibelheim with Sephiroth and a couple of troopers five years back, and according to Shinra, nothing. Happened. Whatsoever." This last was punctuated by a gesture of denial. Reeve had heard a little of this, it was virtually impossible to not know about reports of Sephiroth when working for Shinra. "But Zack never came back from Nibelheim, and neither did Sephiroth… at least, not until just last week, if you listen to the rumors.
"And that's not all of it, either," he continued in a quiet tone. "The process for creating SOLDIERs changed at some point, during the war. Mako baths, originally, and now mako injections, for more targeted results, I guess. And Zack… he told me that he found out they added something to the injections. I didn't believe him at first… not because I thought he was wrong, but because I just don't automatically believe what everyone tells me." He lowered his head, the plated helmet gleaming in the light of the office. "I've been lied to too many times to simply take people at their word… even friends. So I investigated it myself. And he was right. There's some kinda… weird genetic material they added? They call it Jenova."
Even Reeve knew of the existence of something called Jenova, though he didn't know much more than that. It was hard to miss a gigantic tank in the middle of the Science department bearing the name on it, on the very few occasions he'd had a reason to be there. He hadn't worked up the courage to look inside it. Some things, Reeve had thought at the time, were probably better left unknown. Maybe he'd been wrong about that.
Kunsel saw the look of recognition in Reeve's eyes, and went on. "They've been adding it to the SOLDIER enhancements for the last twelve years. And I don't know what it is. They think it's a preserved part of an Ancient," he explained, but it was clear from the secretive SOLDIER's tone that he had his doubts. "I don't know what it is, but I don't think they're right. Whatever it really is, it scared Zack. It scared him enough that he wouldn't tell me what it was. He told me to promise him, no matter what happened, that I wouldn't get the First Class enhancements. And I've got no intention of breaking that promise."
Reeve nodded his head in understanding. This was what he had been looking for, what he had suspected for some time. "Tell me, Kunsel," he asked, gesturing with one hand, "do you know if any one else in SOLDIER is still like you? Enhanced, but without whatever additional effects the Jenova treatment entails?"
Kunsel hesitated for a moment. He absolutely knew the answer to that question, and answering it could be the one reason he had been called here. When he found out about the Jenova material, he had done a truly massive amount of digging, and learned as much as he could about the specifics and the differences between SOLDIERs produced between 'Project G' and 'Project J'. After referencing dozens of files, he discovered that a significant portion of Genesis' insurrection forces had been composed of SOLDIERs which had not received the 'Project J' injections, but at the time of the insurrection had been in line to receive them. And since Genesis and Angeal had been the only products of the Project G line, and everyone who had been affected by their genetic degradation was now well and truly dead, Shinra had taken steps to reinforce the ranks of SOLDIER with an aggressive recruiting campaign. And there was no second SOLDIER project, not anymore.
For all Kunsel knew, Reeve's entire story could be an elaborate fiction, designed to lure him in and trick him into exposing himself. But he didn't think that was the case. After a moment of thought, he shook his head. "I've checked all the records I could get my hands on," Kunsel said finally, tilting his head back slightly. "I'm the only one left."
Reeve circled around the model again, stepping fully into Kunsel's personal space. "Then in addition to finding out if there's another traitor in our folds, we had better find out exactly what it is that the Science Department has been putting into SOLDIER, shouldn't we?" he asked, a dangerous tone in the older man's voice. He reached for Kunsel's shoulder.
"...sir?" he queried, shifting his stance without thinking to avoid Reeve's touch.
He needn't have bothered. Reeve reached past Kunsel entirely to a panel on the wall, pressing a button. Almost immediately, Kunsel registered more movement behind him and turned, looking at the wall he had been leaning against. Which hadn't actually been a wall at all, but an elevated storage container of some kind. It opened, and out popped a small cat, almost entirely midnight-black other than a diamond patch of white fur over its face, and a second one across its tummy. "Kunsel," Reeve said, smiling up at his creation, "I'd like you to meet the Mark II reconnaissance and infiltration platform. Otherwise known as Cait Sith."
Kunsel stared in confusion and surprise as the cat reared up onto its hind paws, standing almost perfectly upright, and threw up its front paws into the air, sending a scattering of bright, rainbow-colored confetti fluttering into both Reeve and Kunsel's faces, with a thickly accented cry of "Sal-u-tations!"
Reeve stood in silent contemplation for several seconds, before turning to Kunsel, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "You know, the first one did the same thing when I powered him on. I have no idea where they're getting the confetti from."
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[ ν ] - εγλ 0007, December 19
Aboard the Leviathan's Tail
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Ranma Saotome woke up before dawn.
Ranma got out of the bunk bed he had fallen into the previous night, showered and brushed his teeth, and went to the galley for breakfast, which turned out to be coffee or tea, bread, eggs, and thick cut bacon. Cait was already in the galley, doing… whatever it was that a magical stuffed talking cat did when other people slept, which appeared to be sitting in place like a doll and staring blankly ahead. Ranma wondered, not for the first time, if Cait even slept at all, or if he took catnaps like a regular housecat.
Ranma ate his breakfast in relative silence as his companions began to filter in from their own bunks. Small talk was engaged in, interest in tea was discussed, and Ranma's opinion was directly asked, regarding the fish dinner from the previous night.
"Yeah, there's a lot of fish in Japanese dishes," he commented, sipping at a mug of herbal tea with some kind of citrus in it. "We got other stuff too, back home. We've got chicken, which is, uh… try to imagine a chocobo about as high as Red's knees." A few interesting images circled around the collected minds at the breakfast table from that description. "There's also beef, which comes from cattle…" he faltered for a moment as he thought about how to explain cows to a world that probably didn't have them.
Yuffie, unexpectedly, made the explanation unnecessary. "Oh, that's nothing special, even a backwards place like Wutai has cattle," she announced in a voice far too chipper for pre-dawn at sea. "Of course, an uchūjin like you wouldn't know anything about that, would ya?"
Ranma glared at Yuffie across the table for a moment. She can't actually still believe I'm from here, can she? He shook his head, getting back to the topic. "Anyways… flavor was different, but it kinda reminded me of tuna, from my world. Bi~i~ig freakin' ocean fish," he continued, holding his hands apart to indicate the width and length of the galley table, "like a coupla hundred kilos sometimes, and it's delicious."
Cloud entered the galley as Ranma's culinary explanation finished up, grabbing a plate and loading it up. "Ranma, if you have time today, I'd like to show you something," he said in a light tone.
Ranma looked up from his meal, meeting Cloud's gaze. "Is it about the surprise?" he asked calmly.
Cloud shook his head. "No, that's coming along, though. It might be ready tonight."
Tifa and Aerith both perked up. "Surprise?" they asked in unison.
Ranma nodded. "Yeah, I'll tell ya about it when it's ready." He turned back to Cloud. "So what's up?" he asked, a tinge of worry on his face. The last few conversations they'd had led to some heavy discussions, and while they had been helpful and informative, he didn't really need more fuel for the Shi Shi Hokodan right now.
Cloud waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing major," he clarified, setting his plate down at the table. "But Tifa mentioned something you learned to do using your materia and your lifestream arts, and I think I might have an idea on how to help out."
Ranma considered that for a moment. If Cloud knew something that could help him master his new techniques faster, that was definitely worth taking some time for. "I see, then," he answered, gesturing to the girls with one hand, "let me get my students set up for the morning first, okay?"
Cloud nodded his head in acceptance. The rest of the meal passed without much else in commentary, and Ranma led his students up to the main deck. They were staring out to the east, watching the sun rise, when the topic Ranma had been trying to avoid finally reared its head.
"So how did your training go last night, sensei?" Aerith asked, the question completely neutral.
Ranma felt a chill along his spine. Memories of the previous night ran through his head, the baffling conversation with a spirit nobody was supposed to be able to talk to at all chief among them. After practically clawing his way off the iced-smooth stern deck, he'd felt the sudden, overwhelming exhaustion of overtaxing his chi. He had considered trying to meditate for a few minutes, before literally falling over in his bed and going to sleep.
And then he had woken up only to come to the realization that it was not in fact a dream or hallucination. Or at least if it was, it was a thoroughly convincing one.
"Uh… let's worry about that later," he answered with a dismissive wave of one hand, quickly shifting into the next topic. He gestured to Aerith and Tifa. "Right now, I want to see how you two are doing."
The two shared a glance, a smile, and lifted their arms into a basic attack posture. Both girls' arms moved in a blur. Aerith's strikes were unfocused and wild, the range they covered being about the size of Genma's torso and head, and were still a little slower than the goal he'd set, but the improvement was noticeable. Tifa's punches were far more composed, neatly fitting into a space maybe twice as large as each arm was wide, and were just a bit faster than Aerith's.
Ranma waited for about ten seconds, evaluating their progress as they struck the air in front of them. "All right, hold it," he said calmly. These two are really gettin' it, he thought with a smile. I never thought they'd manage to pick up that much in only one day's work. "You both need a little more practice, but you're both doing great. I want the two of you to keep it up for about another hour, and then we'll see where you're at. Yuffie," he shifted his attention to the ninja, who looked up from her normal position bent over the mid-ship railing. "You're gonna keep workin' with me for that hour. We'll see if ya can keep up with your training."
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Ranma tagged Yuffie in the shoulder, the fourth time in ten minutes that she had been hit, the Thunder in his fists giving the young ninja a jolt. "Gyyaaahh… damn, that stings," she growled in displeasure, rubbing at her shoulder.
Ranma shrugged. "I can't make this shock less than it already is," he explained. "It's either that or I use a different technique that's harder for you to dodge. An' trust me, runt, ya don't want me to use the other technique."
Yuffie glanced back at Tifa and Aerith, their arms occasionally blurring through the winter morning mist over the water. "You mean that, don't you?"
Ranma nodded. "Let's take a break for now then… I thought you really had it last night, too." Yuffie looked away, still rubbing at her shoulder. "Somethin' up?"
Yuffie didn't respond at first, still staring resolutely at the deck. "Not looking' forward to seein' my father, 's all."
"I might know what you mean."
Yuffie finally looked up at Ranma again. "I doubt that," she shot back, the disbelief clear in her eyes.
Ranma sighed quietly as he sat down on one of the crates on the deck, Yuffie following suit. "Do you know why I keep harping on you, runt?" Yuffie shook her head. "I know this is gonna sound like some old-guy speech, but you behave a lot like I did last year. An' I think I know why, too. So stop me if any of this sounds wrong.
"You've got a family, but I'm guessin' it's just you an' your pops," he began, folding his hands behind his head as they sat, the view close to the boat mostly obscured by chilling mists. "Your mom's outta the picture for some reason, I'm not gonna bother guessin' why, 'cuz that's… personal. You grew up with your pops and some kinda super-important legacy hangin' over your head. Somethin' your pops thinks you have to measure up to, and that either you or he ain't happy with your progress on, no matter how hard you try at it. So, you stopped tryin'.
"And I don't mean that ya 'stopped tryin' to be better,' I mean 'stopped tryin' to meet some impossible standard,'" Ranma continued, staring out to sea. A few icy peaks pierced above the distant southern horizon, glistening in the sunrise, the base of the mountains obscured by the morning fog. "But pops… he didn't see it that way, did he? He wanted the perfect heir, the one to carry on what he thought was the most important thing in the world to him. Far as you're concerned, he acts like he didn't want a kid, he acts like he wanted some kinda version of himself in miniature. And you ain't that. You're you. You want to be you, act like you, talk like you, walk like you, fight like you, and anythin' else that you do, you do it like you. And then… you two fought over… somethin'... and the whole mess exploded-" Ranma was interrupted by a wild haymaker from Yuffie, which went just wide. "-the hell? What are ya doin', runt?"
Yuffie threw another punch, which Ranma evaded. "Shut up! The hell do you know?" The anger in her voice was palpable, and she advanced with fists raised, swinging her body into another wild, angry punch. Ranma deflected the attack with one arm and spun to the side. "You think you're so damn smart, do you…"
Ranma would normally be the first to admit he wasn't smart. But something in Yuffie's voice seemed to indicate that would not be a helpful answer right now. "I've been around," he answered in a light tone, stalling for time.
Yuffie wasn't having it, and stepped forward with an unexpected swiftness, her elbow strike catching Ranma square in the ribs. "You don't know what you're talking about… you don't know anything about my family!"
"Right, an' you're just itchin' to prove me wrong," Ranma taunted, deliberately trying to get a rise out of Yuffie. Guess I touched a nerve, he thought. Better do somethin' about it before she tries somethin' she'll regret. "So, whatcha waitin' for, runt?"
Yuffie let out a growl that turned into a scream of anger halfway through, trying in vain to land another blow. "You stupid… arrogant… asshole!" she shouted, punctuating each word with another punch, her rage making the attacks clumsy and slow in favor of trying to land a painful blow. As a result, Ranma barely had to move in order to stay ahead of her attacks as she unleashed another heavy-handed trio of bar-room brawling swings. "You have no idea what he took from me!" Yuffie threw another straight punch, which Ranma caught barehanded, pulling her off-balance towards him and spinning his arm, holding her fist, around until she was effectively pinned vertical, her body held against his. "Let me go, you freakin' pervert!"
Ranma was caught slightly off guard by the sudden and familiar accusation, but he'd dealt with too many of Akane's outbursts to be phased by it at this point. "You want me ta let go, ya better cool your jets!"
Yuffie struggled against Ranma's grip, but it was like pulling at steel cables. "Why won't you just stop? Why do you hafta talk so much? You can't just leave well enough alone!" She pushed away from him with her free hand, kicking and flailing, but to no avail. "Stop… just stop…" Ranma barely heard the last words leave Yuffie's lips as her struggles finally ceased. He glanced down and saw her lowering her head, but couldn't get a good look at her face. "Please, stop," she repeated quietly.
Ranma released the young ninja as she stumbled forward slightly. He had the good grace to look ashamed. "I… uh… jeez… didn't mean to hit that close," he admitted, shaking his head. "Sorry 'bout that, runt."
Yuffie lifted her head to face Ranma, and Ranma saw that Yuffie was now close to tears. "What the hell?" she demanded, her voice thready and soft. "How do you know so much about me? How could you possibly know all of that? What the hell are you, anyway?" She paused and ran her arm across her face, though whether it was to wipe her eyes or just give herself a moment to breathe was unclear. "Did Aerith tell you all of this, or is everyone in this group just a damn esper or somethin' and you're all takin' turns fucking with me?"
Ranma was at a loss. "Nobody's told me nothin'," he answered. He stood up and took a few steps away, giving Yuffie a little breathing room. "I ain't so fulla myself that I'll say you an' I are exactly the same, but… mosta what I just rambled off is me versus my old man for most of my life. The rest is just fillin' in the missing pieces. Somethin' tells me my old man an' yours would either be drinkin' buddies or would start punchin' each other after about ten seconds in the same room."
Yuffie laughed in spite of herself, looking up at Ranma. "Maybe we could wait for them to get drunk and then beat 'em both up ourselves," she suggested.
Ranma smirked at the idea of getting one over on Gemma that way. "You know, we could just… avoid him," he offered lightly, gesturing vaguely with one hand as he leaned back against one of the masts. "I don't wanna run from a fight if I don't have to, but… people in my world have a saying, that sometimes discretion is the better part of valor."
Yuffie turned and stared in utter disbelief. "You know, you saying that… you even thinking that we could go into Wutai and not hafta deal with my father…" she paused for a moment to let out a sharp, derisive bark of laughter, "...more 'n anything else you've said and done, that makes me wanna believe you ain't actually from Wutai."
Ranma smiled in understanding. "Yeah, that'd be pops back at the dojo in Nerima too. Couldn't keep his nose out of things to save his damn life." He turned his attention back to the snow-capped mountain peaks in the distance. The sight made him strangely nostalgic for the sight of Mount Fuji. "Tell ya what," he began, not looking away from the mountains. "Trainin' aside, let's try an' help each other. Your pops wants to give you grief, tell him to take it up with your sensei."
Yuffie blanched for a moment, before her face shifted into genuine horror, lifting her arms and waving them erratically. "No no no no no, nuh uh, no, no way, absolutely not!" she insisted, shaking her head vehemently. She met Ranma's confused gaze. "D'you have any idea what he'd do if he found out I went around calling someone my master?"
Oh Kami, Ranma thought, what did I just get myself into…? "You wanna tell me, or should I start guessin'?"
The ninja lifted her hands to her chest, gesturing emphatically. "Wutai masters don't hold with people going around and learning from more than one master," she explained. "But because my f… because of how I ended up growing up… I technically had five teachers. Even then, I couldn't call any of 'em 'Master', 'cuz that's a huge thing for us, and calling any of 'em that would mean I'd never be able to learn anything else from any of the others. And my father made it clear before I left, that's not a decision that's up ta me." She glanced down at the deck, her wild tone starting to shift down into something more morose. "Bottom line, if he heard me calling you that, or if you said to him that I was your student, he'd probably kick me out for good. And that's nothing compared to what the other masters might do."
Ranma paused at that. It was, far and away, the dumbest thing he'd heard about martial arts traditions in his life. Total isolation of the styles? No combined teachings? No students of more than one discipline? Why? Ranma had more questions than he had room in his mouth to ask. After a moment of thought, he asked, "How does anyone… y'know… come up with new stuff, if they can't learn from more than one master?"
Yuffie shrugged. "They don't, I guess."
Ranma inhaled sharply, before letting his breath out in a huff. Nothing about Wutai made sense to him. That's why she's been calling me 'boss', he thought, the connection finally clicking in his head. She calls me 'sensei' and it's a big thing for her culture, like defeating one of the Joketsuzoku is a big deal for them. "All right, fine, I'll play it your way for now." The sun began to cut through the morning mist, and Ranma got a better look at the distant peaks far to the south. Dark granite cliffs rising up from the ocean and towering over both land and sea, topped with crags of ice and snow. "Why don't we take a break for now?" he said after a moment's contemplation.
"This ain't a break?" she asked, confused.
Ranma shook his head. "Right now, we're just talkin', but I mean, like, take a few minutes an' do whatcha wanna do," he clarified, standing up. "I'm gonna go see what Cloud wanted from me earlier."
Yuffie waved him off, and Ranma started winding his way along the ship.
In the rope rigging above, a pair of feline eyes watched.
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Cloud was standing on the foredeck when Ranma found him. Ranma normally wouldn't have had any apprehension approaching someone like Cloud, but the Buster Sword held over one shoulder gave the younger martial artist a moment of pause. "Hey, Ranma," he said in a casual tone, lowering the enormous sword to one side.
Ranma approached somewhat cautiously. "Okay, I know somethin' is up, or you wouldn't have your sword drawn."
Cloud paused, glancing down at the drawn blade. "We're not in danger, if that's what you're worried about. It's about something Tifa told me." He motioned Ranma over, and reached into a belt pouch. "Apparently, you can… channel the elements now?"
Ranma blinked. This wasn't where he had expected the conversation to go. "Uhh… yeah, I guess," he answered, shrugging. "I, uh… don't really have it perfected yet, though."
Cloud nodded, before lifting his hand from the pouch at his belt. "Let me show you something." He held up an orb of materia, but instead of being the expected green, it was a deep sapphire blue.
Ranma stared at the blue materia for a moment, before pointing at it. "...what spell is that?"
"It's not magic," Cloud corrected, slotting it into the Buster Sword. As he did, Ranma noticed the blade looked subtly different, somehow. A set of fresh, bright metallic grooves lay between the two slots on his sword. "Shinra has certain materia that they don't supply to the public. They're either kept for SOLDIER or for some of the other departments, depending on their needs. This is one of them. It's called Elemental."
Ranma rubbed his chin in thought, still observing the new materia. "Wait, if they don't sell it, then when didja…" he began, but it came to him suddenly. He slammed one fist into his open palm. "Oh! Back when we were rescuin' Aerith from Shinra! That safe you tore open, right?"
Cloud gave a look of approval. "I'm surprised you remembered that." He pulled out another materia, a green one, and slotted it in adjacent to the blue one. "It takes the element of any materia you put in a linked slot, and channels it through your equipment."
Ranma looked thoughtfully at the materia, then at the sword, then at Cloud. "Have you… been usin' it?" he asked carefully. "'Cuz I don't remember you throwin' around lightning bolts with your sword or anything like that."
Cloud shook his head. "Not in the Buster Sword, no… at least not until now. These two weren't linked until last night," he explained, gesturing to the materia slots in the heart of the sword. He held up his materia bracer, and pointed to the similar-looking slots there. He could tell now that the odd swirls and engravings in the metal, which Ranma had initially mistaken for filigree or other artistic design, were actually channels linking one materia slot with another. "I've been using it defensively instead, to absorb the brunt of Fire magic, like when that Zolom attacked us back in the swamp on the Western continent. SOLDIERs are trained to be able to field-modify their equipment when needed, but it takes time, and we haven't had a lot of it lately."
Ranma paused, re-examining the fresh grooves in the slots. "Oh, so that's what you were doin' last night," he commented, finally catching on as he remembered Cloud working with the metal file the previous night.
The ex-SOLDIER ran his fingers over the modification. "And that leads me to why I asked you here." He slotted two other materia into the bracer on his wrist. "I want to see if you can use it defensively as well."
Ranma tilted his head slightly. "Okay, whatcha got in mind?"
"You've got an elemental trio, right? Thunder, Blizzard, and Fire?" When Ranma nodded, Cloud continued, "Okay, then, I'm going to throw a spell at you, and I want you to… do whatever it is that you do when you're using your elements."
"Uh." Ranma's eloquence was, as usual, understated. He started peeling off the old Shinra jacket, not wanting to see it damaged. "So, you're gonna chuck magic at me, and hope I can do what you think I can do, is that it?"
Cloud paused for a moment, lifting one eyebrow in consideration. "Yeah, that sums it up."
Ranma nodded, his body fluidly sliding into one of the basic forms of Indiscriminate Grappling. "All right, bring it on!"
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"…an' it turns out, yes, I can shield myself from elemental magic," Ranma explained to Red and Cait, as Cloud applied the burn salve to the martial artist's right arm. "But only if I'm expectin' it." And if I actually remember to have the Fire materia equipped, he did not add.
Red sat on the deck floor, watching the two of them. Cait was currently using Ranma's jacket as an oversized blanket, sitting atop the galley table. Cloud set the burn salve down for a moment to wind a bandage around Ranma's arm. "I did ask if you had your Fire materia ready to go," he said reproachfully.
"Really didn't think you'd be crazy enough to cast Fire magic on a wooden boat," Ranma countered, wincing slightly as Cloud tucked the end of the bandage under itself. "Even if it's got metal parts, I don't want the deck burnin' out from under my feet." Privately, he was suddenly extremely happy he'd purchased the simple leather chestguard that was underneath his Chinese-style shirt, as it had helped absorb some of the impact from Cloud swinging that oversized sword around.
"I had no intention of casting it," Cloud insisted, picking up the salve again and moving his attention to the burn mark on Ranma's shoulder. "The whole point was to see if you could resist or mitigate elemental damage. I had it linked to the sword, and I only hit you with the blunt end- hold still, " he demanded as Ranma recoiled slightly from the SOLDIER's touch. He grabbed hold of the inside of Ranma's upper arm firmly, keeping him in place without disturbing the burned skin, as he gingerly applied a thin layer of the salve to the shiny burn mark just below his shoulder. "There are monsters in the world who don't have to use materia to inflict damage like that. Dragons and Zoloms both breathe fire, there's a breed of bird in the mountains of the Eastern continent called needlehawks that can give you a nasty shock, and that's just what I can think of off the top of my head, to say nothing of other SOLDIERs who might actually have one of those materia. It'll be even worse if they have it fully mastered."
"Aye, 'e's right, ya know," Cait Sith chimed in, climbing out from beneath the blue jacket on the table. He lifted one mittened paw, somehow extending one digit visibly through the mitten, and pointed it directly at Ranma. "Ae only bin around the block a few times meself, but sailors in Costa gossip like ol' biddies. Ye'd be surprised the kinna stories ye hear from tha like o' dem. Sea monsters, rodents o' unusual size, floatin' swords tha' fight ye of their own accord…" He paused for a moment and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Ae heard from one'a dem sailors a coupla months back, of some woman inna jungle down south, sings a song tha' makes people follow her, an' then she turns 'em inta frogs an' eats 'em."
Cloud stared at Cait's revelation with a mix of confusion and wariness. Ranma's own feelings were split along heroic resolve and utter disgust. Red looked up at Cait, his own canine expression difficult to read. "The humans of my tribe have a similar story, actually, though it tells of a creature who merely wears the appearance of a woman." He sat up straight as Ranma and Cait both turned their attention towards him. Cloud took the opportunity to continue dressing Ranma's burns. "She lives, if that can be said to be the right word for it, somewhere on the northern continent, well above the glacial lines. She lures unwary travelers to her cavern, where she freezes them to death, and consumes their frozen corpses over the course of many days."
Ranma turned that over in his head for a moment. "My people have a story like that too, yanno," he began, as Cloud applied the salve to the last of the burns, this one on Ranma's forehead. "A long time ago, there were two woodcutters, an old father and his son, a young man. They were out cuttin' wood one winter day, when a snowstorm blew down on 'em. They couldn't make it home through the snow, but they found an empty hut in the storm and decided to sleep there. In the night, the younger man woke up to see a pale-skinned woman with white clothes leaning over his father." His voice took on a slightly sinister tone as the story shifted. "She was a yuki-onna, a yokai, a spirit of the snow and ice. She breathed on the old man, and he froze to death instantly. She turned to the young man, but could not bring herself to kill him as well. She saw in him his youth, his whole life before him, like springtime breaking through the snow… and she took pity on him. She told him never to speak to anyone about what had happened, or she would come back and kill him. And then she left the hut… and the snowstorm left with her," he finished, his voice just above a whisper.
Red and Cait were both visibly hanging on his words, and even Cloud looked at him with some curiosity. "That… is an impressive story, Ranma," Red commented finally. "Tell us, is there more to the tale? It feels incomplete, somehow."
Ranma shrugged gently as Cloud wound a final bandage around his head, doing his best not to dislodge it. "Pops told me that version while we were hiking across China a couple years back," he explained, but held his hands apart in a vague shrug as he continued, "but the old man couldn't remember the rest of the story, an' I never really thought about it again until now. I think there's more, but I dunno how the rest goes."
Red stared at Ranma in contemplation. "I do wonder now," he did slowly, considering his words, "are stories like this common to humans in both of our worlds because they are stories that humans need to tell, or because these are things that exist in both of our worlds?"
Silence fell like a blanket as those present weighed the two very different possibilities. The thoughtful moment stretched on until, finally, Ranma simply shrugged. "Well, if I figure out a way to get home, I'll let you borrow my library card," he offered, "an' you can dig up the answers yourself."
Red bared his teeth in a canine grin. "It is also reassuring to know that both of our worlds have such things as libraries… it means that the things we share are not all threatening."
Cloud finished tying the bandage off. "You're a terrible patient, Ranma," he commented lightly, but there was a breath of humor in it. "Keep the bandages on for today, don't push yourself. I know you're helping Tifa and the others with their training, but you'll need to rest your body some.
Ranma shook his head. "Can't promise much," he admitted, standing up from the bench. "Gotta keep things moving with the others, an' I've still got… somethin' to worry about on my own," he finished, not wanting to discuss Shiva's message quite yet. He grabbed his borrowed jacket and shrugged it on carefully, doing his best not to dislodge the bandages, before heading above deck.
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"All right, Yuffie," Ranma said calmly, moving into an attack posture, "once more, from the top."
Yuffie nodded once in acknowledgement as the sun hung high in the sky above them. "Okay, boss," she answered, closing her eyes and focusing her senses.
They'd given up on Thunder Strikes, as the ninja had somewhat uncreatively dubbed them, and had agreed that he would instead use Blizzard Blows. Or at least that's what Yuffie had agreed to. Ranma was still considering names for his new technique. Privately, he had decided that Yuffie was not to be allowed to name anything in his repertoire, possibly ever.
Ranma began focusing his chi, and well before he even began considering a punch, Yuffie darted a full meter to one side. He stared at the space where she had been standing and smiled. "Bit early, runt, but full points for tryin'," he offered. He turned slightly to the left, facing Yuffie again, who still had her eyes closed. As if feeling the weight of his gaze fall on her, she took a sharp step in the opposite direction. Ranma sighed, and closed his own eyes, extending his chi senses to feel her out, while remaining perfectly still otherwise. Yuffie began to move, but second-guessed herself and shuffled back to where she had been, the motions looking rather like an attempted juke against an opponent that wasn't there. "Remember what we went over, Yuffie," he said quietly, still in his attack posture but pointed almost a quarter circle away from the younger girl. "Feel it out. Don't let your brain get in the way. When you're doin' it right, ya won't have to guess. You'll know."
Yuffie re-centered herself, taking a few steadying breaths, and tuned out her other senses. And then, Ranma moved. He was slowed slightly by consideration for his bandages, to make sure that he didn't tear them loose. But beyond that, it was a single, full-speed punch. Yuffie leaned back at the last moment, limboing beneath the straight punch. Ranma grinned, and slowly began to press his attack. A veritable storm of blows rained down; Yuffie dodged each one as if it had been delivered through postal service.
"When you feel you're ready, open your eyes and keep it goin'," Ranma suggested, continuing his attacks.
Yuffie didn't respond, but her eyes snapped open a few seconds later. She managed to dodge a few punches once her eyes were open, but was tagged in the hip by a glancing blow. She staggered mid-dodge, lost her footing as she ducked unevenly beneath another punch, and dropped to the deck with a cry of "Damnit!"
Ranma had pulled back almost immediately after the blow had struck. "Getting better," he encouraged her, reaching out to offer her a hand up.
Yuffie took the hand, righting herself. "Doesn't feel like it…" she groaned, rubbing some feeling into her Blizzard-numbed hip. "I mean, yeah, the training's clicking and all, but fighting with my eyes closed seems like a terrible idea. And every time I get to the point where I see everything you're doing, it's just… it's too much, I get overwhelmed."
The martial artist considered that for a long moment, staring into the middle distance. And then it hit him. I think she's trading one sense for the other, and it's gettin' lost in the handoff. She needs to use 'em in tandem. "I've got an idea," he declared, slamming his fist into an open palm as punctuation. "Let's go again, I think you'll get it this time."
Yuffie didn't look convinced, but moved back to the center of the deck and stood her ground. "Ready, boss," she said, closing her eyes.
Ranma took a few steps forward, noting how Yuffie braced herself on his approach, instinctively lifting onto the balls of her feet for easier mobility. She's definitely got skill, he acknowledged with some amount of pride, before starting off slow. He couldn't quite go all-out with the bandages and the twinges of pain from the burns beneath them inhibiting his movements, but he could ramp up to his current best at least. As expected, as soon as he began throwing punches, she began weaving between them expertly. Her chi senses were about as sharply honed as it was possible to be after only two days' work, and her reaction time had improved along with them. "All right, runt, listen up." He saw her body tense faintly in response, her movements slowed slightly, but not so much that she was in danger of missing a dodge. "In a minute, you're gonna look at me, an' when you do, I want you to watch me… an' not just with your eyes. I want you to focus your chi senses on me too. They're gonna work better together than either one alone. Think of it like havin' a backup set of eyes, pickin' up on anythin' you might miss." Yuffie didn't respond verbally, but a sharp, focused exhale let him know that she'd understood him. "When you're ready… eyes on me. "
Yuffie hesitated in her response, shifting her center slightly, putting herself in line with him, steadying herself as she continued to duck and weave. After a moment, she finally opened her eyes.
Ranma kept the intensity of his attacks steady. There was a moment, as Yuffie's eyes went wide with surprise, where he feared he may have read it wrong. But she kept moving, threading her body between his attacks, her eyes staring resolutely forward, taking in everything and trusting her chi senses to read his attacks. She felt calm… as if nothing could touch her right now. It was working. All right, let's see if you can keep that up, Ranma thought, pushing himself a little harder.
Yuffie kept up, but it was clear she was reaching the limit of her physical speed. More and more of his attacks became near-misses and grazes. But it was easily her best performance so far. The entire time, her eyes did not waver, her expression remained calm and controlled. Ranma broke off his attack and hopped backwards. Yuffie stopped moving, blinking her eyes a few times. "...holy crap… did I seriously just do that?" she asked incredulously, grinning from ear to ear.
"You still need some practice," Ranma said calmly. He said there for a moment, evaluating his student. "But… you're gettin' better. Good enough that you might be able to give the Umi-sen Ken a shot in the morning. If- if, " he repeated, holding up his hands in response to Yuffie's sudden leap of excitement, "you can keep track of both Cloud and Aerith usin' your chi senses only."
Yuffie's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Okay, I definitely get following the lifestream princess around, but why Cloud?" she asked.
"'Cuz he's a SOLDIER," Ranma answered simply, shrugging, "or he used ta be, anyway. I've already fought against four of 'em, an' between them and Cloud, all their chi feels pretty similar. So if you can remember what his energy feels like, ya oughta be able to sense one coming a kilometer away."
"Wait, really? They all feel the same to you?"
Ranma shrugged again. "Dunno about all of 'em, but five in a row, it's somethin' to think about."
Yuffie squared her shoulders and gave Ranma a nod of her head. "All right, I'll do my best!" she declared, firing off a mock salute, before making her way towards the middle of the ship.
Ranma smiled slightly and reached into his pocket, pulling out a red materia, the smooth crystal cool to the touch. "An' that oughta give me time to do what I need to do."
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No acceptable network in range. Retry? Y/N
Cait Sith sat in the crow's nest above the central mast, desperately trying to align his antenna for any kind of signal. He hadn't been able to submit a report since early the previous morning. And even if that last report had contained an estimated route and estimated date of arrival, he had since learned new things, and those new things warranted an update. But he couldn't get a solid connection, no matter which way he turned. The Shinra PHS and military communications networks were good, for what they were, but they both had a few blind spots and shortcomings.
No acceptable network in range. Retry? Y/N
"Like the entire ocean, f'r instance," Cait groused quietly.
There were places where Shinra's Engineer Corps had set up relay points for radio communications, and the navy had a small fleet of radio buoys anchored near major shipping lanes, but the buoys were too far apart for his antenna to get a clean connection to. Even if they were closer, the data encryption systems he used were simply too complex for something like that without major signal degradation… there was too high a chance that the entire transmission would be corrupted beyond the point of being able to be decrypted. And even now that they were out of line of sight to the mountains that they had run parallel to all morning long, there was nothing else in range of his transmitter.
"'cept mebbe a seagull…" he muttered to himself grumpily, glancing skyward and seeing the dozen or so that had been trailing behind them. But they didn't count. They didn't have antennae, for one thing.
No acceptable network in range. Retry? Y/N
He hadn't known they were going to Wutai when he weaseled his way into the group back in Costa. He hadn't known anything about where they were going at that point, to be fair, and had only found out after talking to them for a bit. He'd been given a mission. Observe, track, report. Nothing in his mission parameters about trying to alter their direction or guide them towards a specific place. It did leave him at the mercy of their travels, at least for the moment.
No acceptable network in range. Retry? Y/N
The next time they were likely to be in range of an acceptable broadcast point would be the old base north of Rocket Town the next morning, and that was going to be iffy, since a ship like this could go out to sea as far as it wanted. The very next opportunity it would have would be once they landed in Wutai. Three days without updating? What would Reeve think of him?
No acceptable network in range. Retry? Y/N
N
Cait let out a sigh, his arms drooping to either side. "Canna worry about tha' now," he mumbled, deactivating the transmitter and filing away the report into his internal storage. "It'll keep fer a few days. No' like this lot'll be doin' anythin' world-breakin' until we make land again anyho'." With that, he began climbing down from the crow's nest, and only the seagulls watched him go.
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Ranma knelt at the stern deck as the sun began to drift downwards from the apex, organizing his thoughts. He'd managed to delay for a while, but there was no point in doing so any longer today. He needed to talk to Shiva again. He needed to find out what she had been talking about last night.
And how much of this he needed to talk to Aerith about.
The implication of being called a Cetra wasn't fully over his head. It was, however, confusing. Earth didn't have any stories of Cetra. At least, he thought for a moment, I don't think we do. And he knew both of his parents. They were both Japanese. They weren't Cetra. At least, he considered briefly, I don't think they're Cetra. He shook his head, chasing away that particular line of thought as he centered the Shiva materia in his lap and began to focus his chi. Thinkin' like that'll just drive me nuts, an' it ain't gonna get me anywhere. Let's just get this over with. He poured his chi into the summon, and felt the magic quickly snap into place as the casting completed. He looked up, and saw Shiva descending from above.
"Ah, little Cetra," Shiva's voice rang out, once again without her lips moving. As she reached the deck, she shifted her body into seiza, mirroring Ranma almost perfectly. "I did not expectto see you again so soon."
Ranma shuddered slightly at the unwelcome familiarity. "I ain't a Cetra," he declared, determined to get a word in edgewise this time. He had no idea how long they would be able to talk, but he knew he didn't have time to waste stumbling around in the dark in this conversation. "I don't know why you think I am, but I'm not. I ain't even from Gaia. I was sent here from a planet called Earth by some jerk with a sword. He cut a hole in mid-air or somethin' like that, and then it was dark for what felt like a long time, and then I was here. An' all I really want is to go home." He paused for a moment, thinking of the familiar streets of Nerima and the Tendo dojo. "But we're dealin' with this guy who wants ta get to… whaddya call it… the Promised Land. An' my friends all say he's dangerous."
Shiva leaned forward and peered at him, her crystal-white eyes seeming to examine him more thoroughly. "Nota Cetra, you say…" she commented. She tugged at her chin in an expression of thought, the movement making her look decidedly human despite her otherworldly appearance. "And… from Earth…I do notknow of this world. But a swordthat travels between manyplaces… thatis something I doknow of."
Ranma's eyes were suddenly wide, and he fought with his excitement to stay calm. "You know what sent me here? What can you tell me?"
Shiva sat in silence for a moment, her blank stare appearing to falter slightly. "When wewere… madeinto what we are now," she began, gesturing to herself, "we made certain sacrifices. Our knowledge was… filtered. I know that my pastself would be able to answerthis for you without question. But as I am now, I do not have allthe answers." She paused, holding up several fingers. "I can tellyou that the sword once belongedto a great warrior king… and that heis one of us."
"One of us… so he's a Spirit like you," Ranma said calmly, trying to piece it all together. "But you don't know where he is…" Dammit, there goes my best shot. He took a breath, steadying himself. Fine, she doesn't know. I'm not gonna get caught on some wild Mousse chase tryna fix that right now. We've got other stuff to deal with, and even if I had the way home in my hand right now, I'm not gonna leave them hanging. "What about this guy we're tryna stop?" he asked. "What about the Promised Land?"
Shiva's expression darkened significantly. "The Promised Land is notfor you," she accused, lifting her hand and pointing at him in warning. "If you seekit, you will fail."
"Yeah, I get it, I know already," Ranma growled in response. "But this Sephiroth guy, he's tryna get to it. We want to stop him, because whether he finds it or not, he seems dead set on killin' as many people as he can along the way."
Shiva stared at him, some of her anger draining out of her face. "You want to protectthe Promised Land?" she inquired, the disbelief still palpable in her voice. "Why? If youare not Cetra, such a thing is not your burdento bear."
Ranma let himself smile. "I said I ain't a Cetra," he repeated, jerking a thumb at himself. "But one of my friends, she's a Cetra, an' she's one of the ones I'm tryna help."
Shiva's expression turned even more puzzled. "And shetaught you the truesummoning? Why would shenot speak to us herself?"
Ranma shook his head. "Actually I'm teachin' her about chi… well, my world calls it chi, I guess you call it lifestream here," he explained. "Not a lotta people here know about it."
Shiva let her arm drop back into her lap, as her form began to fade like a warm breath in the winter air. "Bring the Cetratomorrow," she instructed, "when the morning sun restoresmy power. I mustknow what has happened." And then she disappeared.
Ranma sat on the deck, staring in the direction of the vanished spirit. A calm silence settled over the nearly empty deck, broken only by the occasional caw of the seagulls above, and the sound of the boat motor below. "All right…" he said, turning towards the middle deck. "Time to talk to Aerith, I guess."
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"Sir."
Rufus looked up from the desk in his command tent, to see a familiar face. "Tseng," he greeted his colleague with a smile. It was not a particularly warm smile, but it was about the closest a man such as Rufus would manage on any given day. "I didn't expect you to be out here, so close to home. What can I do for you?"
Tseng did not smile. "It doesn't bother me, sir." He reached into his coat and pulled out a sheet of paper and a glossy photograph. He passed the two sheets to Rufus, who began looking them over. "One of… the old guard… passed this along."
Rufus read through the report before glancing at the photo. "When?"
"Six hours ago."
Rufus tilted his head to one side. "Well, now I know why you came to me directly."
Tseng still did not smile, but a corner of his mouth tugged upwards briefly. "I also received an update from Reeve. Since I was heading out here anyway, he asked me to pass this along, in person. He believes that someone may be tapping electronic communications in and out of the Tower." He reached into his coat again and pulled out a sealed envelope, handing it to the President.
Rufus took it, opening it immediately. A single, thin sheet of handwritten paper was inside. He read through it. And stopped. And re-read it. "...well… that explains a lot," he commented dryly, passing the sheet to Tseng. "I'm open to suggestions."
Tseng inclined his head once. "I've already dispatched the other Turks to deal with… that embarrassment…" he said in a cold voice, indicating the photo and accompanying report. He folded up the handwritten letter and rattled it in the air for a moment. "As to this… perhaps it would be more useful to…" he hesitated for a moment, lifting one hand to shoulder height, "...well… let the trap spring?"
Rufus eyed Tseng carefully. The man was almost unreadable, but there were a few tells that he had picked up in the past decade. Tseng was being genuine, or at least as much as he ever was, and he knew the risks involved. Rufus knew the most obvious risk, at least. "It will certainly make for an interesting story around the cocktail parties."
"Indeed, sir."
Rufus flashed a brief smile. "Find me a mastered Elemental materia. Do it quietly, but do it fast. If this is supposed to happen only a day from now-"
Tseng gave a single nod, handing the letter back to Rufus. He then reached under his jacket sleeve to his materia bracer and unclipped a blue orb, setting it down on the table. "I came prepared, of course," he said. "I'm a Turk." And with that, he turned and left the tent.
Rufus picked up the materia, turning it over in his hands as he stared at the letter. Anger and disappointment washed over him. This was exactly the kind of thing he needed to be in charge to fix. And it was very nearly too late. "I knew you were ambitious," he muttered to nobody in particular. "But not so ambitious as that. I suppose we'll have to use this event as an example… once I survive it."
He pocketed the materia, then pulled out his phone. If communications were being monitored, it was important to keep up appearances… and if they weren't, he still needed to get in touch with Reeve. He began typing. 'Message received. Send the following update to asset in AVALANCHE…'
Suspense and intrigue abound! So many possibilities, so little time. I know this ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, but it's necessary for the setup of the next few chapters.
Needlehawks, as mentioned by Cloud, are my rename of the Needle Kiss enemy, normally found exclusively in the Corel region, usually in the mined-out areas leading between the ruins of Corel and the local mako reactor. I like to think that the monsters and creatures of the world are not as universally regional as they are forced to be in the original game, so a breed of raptor that has a living range across the Nibel/Corel mountain ranges makes sense to me. I also know that several of the monsters in FF7 are… very badly translated, like Cokatolis/Cockatrice, Midgar Zolom/Midgardsormr, Kimara/Chimera, and others besides. Not everything in my story is going to have a rename. Creature renames will be entirely at the author's discretion, but I promise that when they happen, they will at least make more sense than a blind idiot translation. I hope. :D
The 'woman' in the southern jungle mentioned by Cait Sith is referring to the enemy Jemnezmy, who does indeed have an attack (Fascination) that inflicts Confuse, and another that inflicts Toad status. According to the wiki, Fascination is apparently 100% effective on male party members. Read into that what you will; I personally find it thoroughly amusing. Jemnezmy has two… clones? Palette swaps? Sisters? named Pollensalta (in the northern crater) and Snow (in the Great Glacier area).
The yuki-onna (literally 'snow woman'), doubling both as historical interest story and as a lead-in to today's Language Lesson segment, has more interpretations for the mythos than I have fingers on my hands, but the one told by Ranma is a close match of the first half of what is the 'best known' version in the modern day. The rest of the story goes on to tell of what became of the woodcutter afterwards.
Yokai is another Japanese word, which has several different interpretations. The most literal is 'apparition', but direct translation isn't easy for a word as laden with meaning as this one is. In simplest terms they're a subset of spirits and supernatural beings who, depending on which ones you're talking about, represent various phenomena and calamities for which the people of the time had no other explanation. A good parallel for unfamiliar Western audiences might be something like Jenny Greenteeth, a monster from old English folktales who would supposedly drag the elderly or children into waterways and drown them. The story was supposed to serve as a warning to stay away from water.
Hope you like it! As always, feedback and comments are welcome! And I hope to see y'all again in the next chapter.