Chapter 10: The world of Children
Professor Hojo, Head of Science Research Division. The words are printed plainly and discretely on a paper plaque beside the office door.
The toddler reaches up on tip-toe to pull the handle. Pushing it he lets it swing open silently. Silver hair shifts as the child peers into the dim room. The tapping of a keyboard and quickened, shallow breathing reaches his ears. A sound that has become all to common to the boy.
Intently the child observes his guardian hunch over. His hair is stringy with grease and a few escaped strands hang before his face.
A disgustingly familiar sight to Sephiroth and his soul.
A growing body of text forms in the reflection of the Professors round glasses as his fingers spasm over the keys. His guardian's sent permeates the room. Of frantic emotions. The smell of stress.
Without a word the toddler slinks closer until he is by the older man's side. "Professor Hojo." He says softly. His guardian jerks, alarm and surprise add themselves to the potent mix in the room.
A flicker of amusement crosses Sephiroth's eyes as the elder man's hackles rise. Hazel eyes dart to the boy's glowing green gaze before returning to the screen that shines just as brightly.
The older man takes a moment to slow his quickened breathing and startled heart. "Go away, I'm busy." He replies curtly, returning to his typing.
"I want to go outside." Sephiroth states calmly. It was Gast's suggestion after all and he had waited long enough.
"I told you, I'm busy. I don't have time for you." The professor replies without a second thought. The smell of annoyance follows the statement.
"Then I will go outside by myself." Continues Sephiroth unruffled. He knows he can take care of himself.
"Don't be silly." The professor scoffs with his eyes still glued to the screen.
"Why am I silly? I am capable of doing it on my own." The child retorts, a spike of annoyance quickening his pulse.
The typing comes to a complete stop. The professor pauses for a second then swivels on his chair and leans over the child. "You - are too young. You know nothing of the world and even less of the dangers outside. Not only would you be a liability to Shinra if you fell into the wrong hands, but it would also be irresponsible of me to let you go outside on your own." The professor leans back, having said his piece.
Sephiroth's eyes narrow. He cannot understand the reasons given to him. Acutely aware of his own ignorance the desire to know the outside only grows.
Professor Hojo sighs. "Of course it would be too much to expect you to understand such matters. You are a child after all." The Professors voice suddenly sharpens. "Listen, Sephiroth. We give you a lot of freedom as it is. We let you roam the corridors without supervision in your free time. This is more recognition of your independence than any child your age should deserve."
Freedom.
A distant concept, a faint yearning to know what others desire but never seem to have. The possibilities of action when all shackles of duty, obligation, claims and worldly fetters are severed. And for a moment an intense urge to sever those chains burns in Sephiroths gut.
He knows he can do it. He has the power.
A spark heralding decisive action flashes through his eyes. But then he recalls his purpose, is search for meaning, and a veil of calm falls upon him and he settles himself to wait and watch once more. The time may come, but it is not now.
His slip does not go unnoticed, however, by Professor Hojo. Sephiroth knows by the heavy silence and the sliver of wariness that pierces the air.
Abruptly the professor pushes up his glasses and turns to the monitor once more. Ending the conversation with a tone of finality and disinterest. "I suppose you can ask Veld if he has time to babysit you."
…
Sephiroth finds Veld on what seems to unofficially be dubbed the Turk floor, printing out documents.
Most people seem not to be allowed on this floor but Sephiroth has his ways of trespassing. By simply by slipping in behind or past a Turk entering or exiting it. Sometimes they do not notice him, small and light on his feet as he is. Other time he darts by them too quickly and they cannot be bothered to chase after him.
Though it is not a floor he usually frequents. Most Turks seem uncomfortable when they come across him, but have all learned to keep out of his business when he is there.
The older brown-haired man seems surprised to see him, even going so far as to show it through the slight widening of his eyes. "You're not supposed to be here." He says coolly.
The toddler doesn't deign to comment and gets down to business. "I want to go outside but Professor Hojo says I must have a…." Sephiroth pauses recalling the foreign word. "Babysitter."
Veld's eye's quickly dart over to the growing pile of paper being spit out by the machine. "I do not have time for that." He states bluntly.
Unimpressed and apathetic to the elders excuse the silver haired boy stares down the taller man. Veld sighs and closes his eyes. A change enters the air and Sephiroth knows a solution has been found. The older man's mood seems to lighten but at the same time he hesitates.
"I may know someone who has the time to be your babysitter." He looks sternly at Sephiroth. "But you must behave or else you won't be allowed such a possibility again.
An imperceptible curve of the child's lips is the only hint to
the boy's triumph.
...
"I'll leave him in your care then." Sephiroth feels a large hand press on his back, pushing him forward and towards a rather corpulent man with a smile as big as it is fake.
As Veld takes his leave, the toddlers eyes drift to the boy besides the man. It is the first person his own size Sephiroth has seen in his short life. Blond and blue eyed.
They eye each other for a moment. The silver haired boy sizing him up and the blond with simple curiosity. He could feel the faintest of tugs from his soul, but no recognition ensues.
Palmer, in his customary dirt coloured suit, turns to put a hand on the boy's head and says kindly "Why don't you introduce yourself?"
Wide blue eye's turn to the adult's brown ones for a moment. Sephiroth senses something from the boy, reminiscent of faint fear and something else. This child's sent is much different from those of adults. When he turns back the boy draws himself to his full diminutive height and puffs out his chest. He steps forward and presents his palm perpendicular to the floor. "Rufus Shinra."
Green eyes dart quickly to the hand then back up at the boy's pompous face. The name rings a bell in his soul. But he feels only slight caution and distaste towards a Shinra.
The boy looks expectantly at Sephiroth until it becomes faltering and shoots an uncertain look to Palmer. Not understanding the boy's plight, Sephiroth breaks the awkward silence with an "I see."
The boy deflates slightly and Palmer bends forward in an apparent attempt to blind Sephiroth with his smiling face. "Your name. Tell him your name." He prompts.
The silver haired boy looks at the adult strangely. "You already know my name." Every one knows who Sephiroth is.
The smile on Palmers face only grows wider. Green eyes flit back to the boy who's smell Sephiroth has already come to identify as uncertainty.
Come to think of it, President Shinra had also asked for his name. "Very well, I am Sephiroth." But he doesn't take the hand outstretched towards him.
…
"How old are you." Asks the blue eyed boy beside him.
"Four." Answers Sephiroth in a dead panned voice, without even needing to think about it.
"Really? I'm older than you then. I'm seven!" Chatters the young Shinra. He had been going on like this for quite a while. After the awkward introduction he quickly recovered his confidence, and had since then been trying to coax Sephiroth into 'playing' with him.
"Hey, because I'm older I will take care of you and decide what we're going to do. Let's play with my toy soldiers!" This is the eighth time Rufus brings up his toy soldiers along with the eighth reason for playing with them. He is quite manipulative, but not enough to cajole Sephiroth into entertaining him.
Small hands grip Sephiroth's shoulders and attempt to shake him. The younger silver haired child doesn't budge and he only succeeds in shaking himself.
Not that it seems to matter.
"Heeeey! Why do you stare at the wall? Aren't you bored." The child whines, finally showing the strain on his patience.
"I am bored." Answers Sephiroth in a dull voice. His new company is tedious and more annoying than dream powder in his persistence.
"Since you're bored let's play with my toy soldiers. They are really cool. You won't be bored anymore." His eyes are sincere, his face amiable and friendly. His sent frustrated. The boy is good at hiding it, but he is an open book to Sephiroth.
"When are we going outside?" Sephiroth changes the subject.
Rufus's eyes widen and he turns to Palmer who is reading on a sofa. "We're going outside?" He asks excitedly.
The adult looks up and is quiet for a moment as his fake smile slowly re-plasters itself on his face. "We are not going outside."
Suddenly Sephiroth jumps to his feet from where he is sitting on the carpeted floor. "Why not?" He asks calmly, but there's a subtle edge in his voice.
The smile widens even more. "It is not safe outside and the Turks are too busy to escort us."
"Ohh…" Says Rufus, disappointed.
Sephiroth offers no response. Instead his thought start to race. If they aren't going outside, why is he here? The only reason he needed a babysitter was to leave the building in the first place. That is the reason to why he is enduring his current social entourage.
A sense of frustration comes over the silver haired boy, accompanied by resigned exasperation from his soul. And so Sephiroth knows this will not be his last encounter with the joys of bureaucratic inefficiency.
Rufus joins him where he is standing and pats him on the shoulder offering him a sympathetic look. "To bad we can't go outside." Then his face brightens. "I've got an idea of something we can do instead! Let's play with my toy soldiers. They are really fun!"
Of course he did not fool Sephiroth for an instant. His sent was steady from the moment he stood up. What a schemer.
…
"Hey, Sephiroth, look at this one. This is the new model of the general of the army, Heidegger." The silver haired boy glances disinterestedly at the toy Rufus is holding in his hand. Green suit adorned with medals looking much slimmer and smooth faced than when he had last seen the man.
"And here is a figurine of my father. He's super cool." The blond boy says, his voice softer. Sephiroth's eye's flicker to the boy, barely sparing a glance at the figurine. Instead he examines the boy's proud expression. In his sent an unfulfilled yearning lurks.
But more than that there is that word he doesn't recognize though it sends ripples of disquiet through his soul. A jumble of suspicion and distaste along with a faint yearning.
"Father?" Sephiroth repeats. Somewhat wary.
"Yes, and this I got from my mother." Rufus says, a warm wistful smell wafting from him accompanied by a small smile. Unaware of the effect his words have on the Silver haired boy beside him.
For a few moments following the boy's statement a quiet stillness prevails in Sephiroths inner landscapes. Almost tranquil. Then something detonates within and his soul whips up a hurricane of emotion. Devotion, yearning, wonder, contentment, desire, love, freedom, purpose.
Paralyzed under the pressure of a word that has been kept from him for so long. A word that is so intricately entwined with his destiny. No, not a word, a person. Mother. It echoes in his mind. Washing his spirit with foreign feelings and stirring up dormant memories.
He can perceive fragments of it - of her. Flowing silver hair, the curve of illusory skin. Tantalizing beauty. On the edge of his mind, on the tip of his tongue, in the corner of his eye.
But he cannot see her.
Frozen, he stares into space. His eye's glowing brightly and his pupils narrowed to thin slits.
"They are beautiful." Comes a child's voice, startlingly close. Sephiroth snaps out of his trance and his gaze focuses on the cold blue eyes mere inches from his.
Unmoving he stares back at the boy, studying him. His voice had been clear and open. His sent suggests wonder and appreciation. No deceit, no half truths, no hidden meanings, no complicated motivations. An innocently open statement. An honest and pure intention. So foreign to Sephiroth, he cannot fathom that it wasn't merely a myth.
"You are not afraid." The silver haired child says with quiet wonder.
Rufus continues to stare at Sephiroth. His eyes blank but his scent fluctuating. Uncertainty. He does not understand, but he covers it quickly and grasps onto the younger boy's shoulder. "I'll tell you something. There is a secret with these toy Soldiers. I will share it to you if you play with me."
Sephiroth can only let out an inaudible sigh and turns to the windows. He idly promises the clouds that he will avoid spending quality time with Rufus in future.
Said boy seems to slump in defeat on the carpeted floor behind the white haired child. A minute of restful silence ensues. But, alas, peace will never last with a Shinra.
There is a subtle change in the air and Sephiroth closes his eyes in resignation, resting his chin against his knee. He feels a hot breath against his neck as the boy crawls up behind him to speak into his ear.
"You wanted to go outside, didn't you?" He says slowly. Sephiroth had never said so, just mistakenly assumed. But he does wish to go outside.
Draping an arm over a shoulder and leaning onto the younger boy's back, the young Shinra continues softy. "I will ask them to take us out, if you play with me."
This catches Sephiroth off guard and for an instant, just one instant, he considers it. Rufus must have caught onto something for his excitement spikes. His sharp ears can almost hear the quickening pulse of the blond boy hanging over his shoulder.
Shaking his head, he cannot believe he even contemplated it for a moment. The child's game is so obvious. He would gain everything from asking, for he obviously wishes for the same thing. And lose nothing from being denied. It would be Sephiroth who would pay for something likely never delivered. Perhaps the young Shinra would wheedle even more out of the younger boy for that minimal favour.
Shaking his head a second time with more decisiveness to stave of any further attempts, he brushes of the the older boy's arm from his shoulder. Sephiroth will not trust a Shinra.
...
It is with relief that Sephiroth sees Veld come to free him from Palmer's, and by extension Rufus's, custody.
"Did you have a nice time?" Asks the brown haired man.
"Yes, we had a wonderful time, Sephiroth and I." Answers the blond boy with enthusiasm.
Someone begs to differ. What a persistent pest. Without a word of goodbye, the silver haired boy stalks off, letting Veld catch up to him.
Sephiroth does not like to be played with. In any sense of the word. Though he learned some things from the young Shinra. He turns an eye to the Turk who walks quietly beside him.
"You knew Palmer wouldn't bring me outside." The child states flatly.
The older man stiffens imperceptibly, but doesn't speak.
"Why?" Questions Sephiroth simply. They both know what he is asking. Why put Sephiroth under supervision he doesn't normally require? Why mislead the boy deliberately?
Emotions fluctuate, he can feel it in the air. And finally the older men respond. "I thought you might like being around a child your age."
Sephiroth listens for lies or deeper motives but cannot detect anything. "I did not." He says simply and continues on. He senses sadness and disappointment, and not for the first time he wonders why this man cares.
…
Professor Hojo is where he last was. In front of his computer. Only the screen has darkened though the hum of the monitor still fills the room to Sephiroth's ears. The light's are off and a blanket is draped over the professor's sleeping form. Likely a kind colleague who didn't have the courage to wake their superior.
Sephiroth pulls out his own chair to perch on and he watches Professor Hojo vigilantly in the dark.
…
The professor wakes to the sight of two green glowing dots. Sleepily he blinks at them.
Suddenly they are much closer. Close enough for him to recognise that they are in fact, eyes. Eyes that he is very familiar with. He starts awake, only to grown from the ache of stiff muscles.
He fumbles for the desk light and winces as it flickers to life. Tiredly he rubs at his eyes only to feel a layer of warmth slide off of him. Removing his hands, he sees it is a blanket. Hastily the professor's eye's dart to familiarly contracted pupils.
"This is the way I found you." The boy explains with a calculative gaze. And the man moves to push his glasses up the bridge of his noes, taking the time to straighten them while he is at it.
"What time is it? Asks the older man, his voice horse and his throat dry.
"After hours." Replies the young boy.
The professor shoots him a sharp look.
"All you need to know is that it is too late to leave the building." replies the child with a small smirk.
With a glare the professor moves to wake the monitor but stops midway. He sighs and slowly pushes himself out of the chair, his muscles protesting. Looking down at the boy, who returns from leaning on the table to curling up on the chair, he says. "You best go to bed, Sephiroth. You shouldn't have stayed up this long." With those words the older man moves to the office door.
Suddenly a child's question rings out behind him. "Who is my mother?"
The professor stiffens. Every muscle tensing. "Where did you hear about that?" the adult asks sharply.
"Rufus Shinra." Comes the boy's dismissive voice.
The professor whirls on his heel. Sharp words on the tip oh his tongue.
"Don't change the subject. Who is my mother?" Cuts the silver haired child off with a commanding tone and a hidden edge in his voice. The boy rises to his feet, standing on the chair facing the professor. His pupils are dilated, but there is a warning in his eyes.
The older man breaks the eye contact. "You don't have a mother." Loose, dark strands fall over the pallid skin of his face and by his side his hands curl into fists.
"Do not lie to me about this, professor! Who is my mother?" The boy interrogates, the edge of anger more apparent.
The older man's fists tighten and he turns away, making for the door. "It doesn't matter, she died shortly after you were born."
He ignores the light thud on the carpeted floor and starts to pull the door open. Only to have the handle wrenched out of his grasp as the door slams shut. Startled the professor stumbles backward, cradling his hand.
Before him stands the little boy looking up at the adult from beneath Silver eye-lashes. His eye's are piercing. "Say it." He commands, his voice dangerously calm.
The man moves to push up his glasses. "Fine." He snaps, only a slight sheen of sweat betraying him. "Her name was…" He cuts off short, seeming to choke on something.
"Her name was?" Repeats the child eagerly.
He is transfixed by the child and all he represents. He swallows thickly. Finally, wrenching his gaze away and mutters softly. "Jenova. Her name was Jenova."
Silence follows that statement until the older man hears the boys voice, slow and filled with wonder. "Jenova…"
There is something in that voice that pulls the man's attention back to the boy, who seems to have entered a trance. His pupils are constricted in spite of the dim light and his irises glow eerily. A smile spreads on the boys face. "Yes, that is mother's name" He hisses with excitement.
Then the boy focuses back on the adult, who now looks at his charge with widened eyes, and the smile is gone in an instant. The silver haired child opens the door and is gone in an instant.
A shiver runs up the man's spine and he takes a deep breath. Sinking down into a nearby chair he falls deep into thought.
Author's notes:
Reviews: Thank you once again to all of my reviewers! Bloody Roses for your Detailed feedback, liberal sharing of your opinions and the song "Wash it all away" to describe Sephiroth's mindset during the event's of the game. Lordibau for invaluable feedback on many elements of this story and fan fiction in general as well as the letters from Gast to Sephiroth.
Sephiroth met Rufus. I actually had decided not to include Rufus in Sephiroth's childhood until the point where I started writing about it. I'd love to hear your thoughts of this whole affair. The secret behind the toy soldier was inspired by a scene in Advent children where Cloud asks Rufus what he's hiding and Rufus replies that he would be willing to tell someone who worked with him. Cloud actually considers it until Reno ruins the moment by mentioning rebuilding the company.
There will be a few more scenes with Rufus in future.
Next chapter: Gast meets Ifallna