Chapter 22: From one Child to Another
This chapter is told from the Turk Fists perspective. For those who don't know he's also Sephiroth's hand-to hand instructor.
Warning This chapter may suddenly and abruptly dip it's toes into very dark themes. Particularly when the Fists starts musing about monstrous kids. Mentions of drugs, mutilation and breaking bones. Note that this story is now rated M.
It's been a while, and this chapter mentions a lot of names of Turks you all might have forgotten so here are a little list, save for mentions of Malkhaz who is the current head of the Turks, and Veld, because that would be ever other chapter.
For a quick reminder, read chapter 12 from the Turk, Cane's POV. Most of the Turks mentioned appear in there.
Other brief mentions or interactions of the Turks are in the following chapters for those interested:
Ch3 (mentions Scissors); ch5 (mention of Scissors, Fists and Zero); (Sephiroth confront's cane); [The next chapters are part of the Heidegger incident]16 (Scissorc & Fists); 17 (Scissors, fists & Zero); 18 (Scissors & fists); 19(Mentions of Ken, Riffle & Zero); ch(21 Zero's office stint)
Holding a mug of coffee he idly massaged the calloused and scarred skin of his knuckles.
Grey light filters in through the cafeteria windows in Midgar's smoggy dawn. Rumours had it they were working on a climate project to filter the smog elsewhere.
It was actually a more pressing issue than most people thought. The mako fumes from the reactors was being filtered, but in time, what escaped could build up and cause light levels of mako poisoning. The sort that built up slowly over time.
According to Zero anyway.
Civilians were still in the dark about it because what could be automated by machinery, was, and the military and maintenance personnel where rotated out at the first sign of poisoning.
But it could be a problem if it started affecting the urban areas over the coming decades-
Something nudges his leg.
"What are you thinking about?"
He glances at her. His partner Scissors.
She is a decade and a half younger than he. He'd thought it was a strange paring at first, after his partner died. They work both in close quarters and specialised purely in combat, though scissors favoured stealth while he did't mind going in from the front.
Among the senior Turks, Cane and Ropes were a good team with a steady temperament. Cane had the skill and endurance to confront multiple combatants and prolong a fight while Ropes ensnared the targets with traps.
He didn't really get along that well with Riffle. She was a few years older, but he was a decade senior to her as a Turk. A former Mercenary, Shinra had recruited her secretly and she'd betrayed and ultimately killed her employer at the time.
She was vicious under her easy, cheery guise and hadn't had a steady partner for most of her career. Shinra valued her though, she was a Turk killer.
"Just thinking of the past." No one would ever hear him talk about those though. He was valued because he didn't spread dangerous gossip even within the Turks.
"You worked a time with Rifle, didn't you?" She makes a face.
"She was the one who'd asked for it." Her grimace is gone in a moment as sharp glint of wariness hides in her eyes. "She thought I was like her.
Fists eyes her without comment, wondering if Scissors knew why.
The younger woman likely had the most vicious fighting stile among the active Turks, but that wasn't why. Most of her partners had died in action when on mission together with her.
Not because she was inept, however. She'd joined the ranks of the Turks at one of the most turbulent times, when Shinra had been waging a silent war against the land lords and senators of the 8 city alliance.
Many Turks had died, but somehow she'd survived against harsh odds. One mission in particular, her team had been compromised and they'd been captured, she'd freed herself using a pair of scissors from the dungeon, killed her mark with it and then hid.
From there she'd unscrewed the scissor blades and assassinated her way out. She'd been named after that.
What she'd been like before then he didn't know, but after that she was bitter and prickly, but professional.
"Rifle seems to have taken Ken under her wing."
"And Ken puts up with her." He nods at the blond, ignoring her acerbic tone.
Ken had only been a turk for 4 years, but she was talented, competent and hard to dislike. Her record was also about as clean as a Turks could be, having been recruited from the Shinra military academy.
Rifle had dragged her to Malkhaze's office on the second month as a new recruits and badgered him into making them partners. No one thought much of it at the time, but strangely enough they still remained in a teem.
"She's become a valuable asset, and I hear an idol of the Academy." Fists had always thought the serious but quiet suited the regular army more. Most recruits from the Military Academy never manage to become senior Turks, but they died well for Shinra's cause. Of course, he'd never tell them that Ken only survived to live this long thanks to Rifle.
Scissors blue eyes flicker as he takes a sip from his coffee.
"How long have you…" She pauses, hesitating. They'd become partner after she returned from Nibelheim. She'd been aloof and had had a sharp tongue when she was not. But he hadn't minded.
She'd been insecure, of course. He'd seen it before. But she occasionally peeked out of her shell. He enjoyed seeing her take the initiative, so he indulges her question. Even if it was a touchy subject.
"I was among the first Malkhaz Recruited after he took over." She does a double take, taking in his square ruggedly handsome features. He smiles at her genially to soften his lines and welcome youth back into his face.
"Doesn't that make you older than Veld." She squints at him. "You don't look that old."
He chuckles quietly, enjoying her attention.
"Old is a cruel word to use on a Turk, little miss." He teases her. She gives him a potent stink-eye, which contrasts with the stiff pout of her lower lip. It was cute. She'd thrown a punch the second time he'd called her that. The first time, she'd been too shaken. He'd known what it meant when he saw it.
Sometimes he wondered who'd used it before.
"I'm only a bit older than Veld." He clarifies. Truth is, he'd aged well. And joined the Turks young.
"Where…" She hesitates again, but he smiles at her knowingly, encouraging her to finish. "…did you live before.
Idunhall, but he wouldn't tell her that.
"From one of the towns that was here before they built Midgar." He smiles knowingly as he sees the curiosity in her eyes.
"Which one?"
"Sector 7." He hadn't thought about it in a long time, In his mind, Idunhall no longer existed. Scissors hesitates, her eyes flickering over his face.
"Was it good?" She shouldn't have asked him. He'd been born into crime, joined a gang at the age of 7 and been a leader of one at 12. He'd lied about his age to join the Turks to survive both law and underworld.
"Not particularly, the 8 towns were constantly fighting each other for space and resources." And there had been a lot of resources, enough to let the towns become a conurbation and melt into each other.
The militia fought for the land outside of the city while the gangs fought over the borders within it. They'd even built walls to try to stop the inevitable mingling.
"It doesn't matter anymore though, it's a different place now." The treasures of the land his town had struggled to keep were gone and the land barren. But he'd never tell anyone about that.
"They used to be Sinra's biggest clients back when we were Weapons Manufacturing." They had been so busy fighting each other they hadn't noticed Shinra's growing power.
"That's how sector 0 came to be. A giant mako spring. The towns were originally built around it because it produced a lot of materia. But materia takes a long time to form naturally and there had been less and less to be found. It was beautiful, but dangerous. Mako springs were bad enough, gazers were worse. The land was otherwise useless because they couldn't build or grow anything on it." He explains to his blond companion, admiring her interest emerging from behind her guarded expression.
There'd been a lot of mako springs back then, so they'd thought it was a good deal.
"The constant conflict meant there were a lot of high levelled individuals and their military was better armed, and larger than most cities. A power-hungry lot, they turned on the company when Shinra started poaching their talent." And when the wastes appeared and started to grow. But that was an unrelated issue as far as Shinra was concerned and he would never imply otherwise.
He takes a bite of his sandwich and Scissors looks away politely. He doesn't, watching her sharp handsome features.
He sees her shoulders tens suddenly and he follow her gaze, seeing a flash of silver at waist hight disappear in the first wave of the morning crowd.
Sephiroth was a weird kid, even for one with a twisted upbringing. And he'd known a few back in the day.
A former gang member of his had mutilated her siblings while her parents had been indulging in their mako addiction. But she hadn't been that bad.
One face in particular used to give him nightmares. He'd been a cheerful if slightly withdrawn street kid from Bjorhall, what was now sector 1. He'd fixated on one of the members of a rival gang and followed them around like a chickabo. THey'd easily adopted him into the fold.
He and few other friends had snuck into their territory to teach some of their members a lesson and steal some weapons.
They'd accidentally dropped in on the scene where the kid was sodomising his friends corpse with a-
He grimaces, putting down his sandwich, his appetite lost. He remembers all too clearly how that child had looked up at them, his gaze gloomy and empty, completely different from his usual sunny disposition. Then turned and ran, never to been seen in the area. His gang had been too stunned to pursue.
They'd later found out he'd left a trail of dead corpses in his wake. He'd been seen in other part's of Idunhall, befriending kids, who'd turn up dead with the same gruesome injuries. When he was discovered he'd flee to another hall and begin all over again.
Sephiroth was growing up in a more sterile environment than the one he'd known, but there were certain similarities.
What made him different was that he hadn't learned to hide it.
Fists had thought it was a bad idea to put Sephiroth in Rufus presence. Sephiroth had shown his eagerness for violence a couple of times before, the only reassurance was that he seemed to be triggered by people who could put up a fight.
Since the incident with Heidegger he'd been, oddly enough, more reassured. Because when the silver haired child showed emotion, it was genuine. And that bewilderment on his face. It was a good sign.
Scissors abruptly flicks her eyes over to him.
"Today's your last day with that… her eyes return to the child, kneeling on a chair and eating quietly in the centre of the cafeteria clamour.
He hums back in response. Meeting her blue gaze steadily with his own.
Her eyes narrow.
"You're up to something, aren't you? You've been brooding all morning."
This was probably why Scissors had survived for so long. Her intuition was unparalleled.
He gives nothing away.
"Just don't die." She mutters looking down and he smiles.
"We'll all die someday." Besides, he may not have Scissors sharp instincts but he made up for it in experience.
He threw down the last of his coffee then stood. Heading over to the probably very deadly 5-year-old sliding off a chair with his tray.
Fists knew it with ore explicit certainty than any of the other Turks.
...
He stands by quietly. Arms crossed and muscles tugging annoyingly against the armoured blue cloth of the suits, watching the silver-haired child go through the moves stoically.
Its movements are fluid and graceful, Its posture more solid than most other adults. Fists can admit to himself that it is unnerving to see. Sephiroth had the precision of a machine, yet still retained a dexterous and quick organic motion.
Once it gained more weight, it'd be a heavy hitter.
Without a word Sephiroth turns to the mannequin he would usually practice the grappling moves on.
It really was only weight he needed. At this point, the child was most deadly when grappling. With the strength and durability hidden in that small body, it could break that dummy with supposedly non-lethal grappling techniques. That's why he'd refrained from teaching it the lethal ones.
Fists catches himself. It was the last session today, he'd resolved to do something else. Be something else. See something else. Something that might, just maybe, be a little meaningful.
He uncrosses his arms.
"That's enough."
The silver-haired boy pauses. Then slowly releases the mannequin stands and turns to the Turk. There is no surprises, the child only gazes back. Eye's calm like a lake on a windless day, possessed of a seeming boundless patience.
It gives him chills. He catches himself when the child's eyes flick momentarily to his hands.
He makes them still, ignoring the powerful urge to rub his knuckles.
He'd crossed his arms to stop from giving his nerves away, but the child's observational skills might be sharp enough that it- he already had an inkling.
He very deliberately breathes evenly. Then he catches himself again. He's falling back into bad habits. He knows well, that the more he tries to hide the more transparent he'll be, especially to kids like Sephiroth.
Even now the child stands, still as a statue, save for his calm breathing. Green eyes boring through the Turk.
With a sigh Fists plops to the carpeted floor, shedding all his pretences.
"Let's do something different today."
The child blinks, and something stirs in those eyes. Fists smiles inwardly. Yes, that is what he'd wanted to see. Even though the child remains standing like a puppet, waiting for its strings to be tugged.
"Come here." He commands.
The child strides over, and halts a respectful distance from him. His small back straight and feet parted to shoulder length. Face a blank mask. But today, he's going to try to meet the kid on the other side of that mask.
"Closer." The turk beckons- "halt. Sit."
Gracefully, Sephiroth follows the instructions in its- his habitual manner. Fists half expects the child to kneel like he'd been instructed to do once and done ever since, but instead the child folds himself into the crossed legged sitting position, mimicking the Turk.
A trill of pleased surprise and wariness rushes through him. He knew the kid was more perceptive than he let on, something that drove scissors up the wall with alarm, but this is what he wanted.
The child's delicate nostrils twitch as Fists musters his courage, inwardly giddy with anticipation.
He'd not been much different from the other Turks before, but when he'd seen that lost expression faced with the daunting prospect of caring for Rufus, he'd suddenly known.
"Now we talk." He says, because today, he was going to invite that kid to come out.
Sephiroth's ears perk up, he'd only noticed it because the child was otherwise so still.
"What do we talk about?"
He studies the silver haired child. He's no there yet. It wouldn't be that easy, but… He knows the child will be studying him as well. He's tempted to be unnerved, but… It's a good sign.
"This is our last session together. I have taught you all the basics and can't teach you any more without simulating combat - which is not part of my assignment. Thus I give you the opportunity to ask any questions you may have pertaining to combat." He explains in his usual clipped fashion. He didn't want to raise the kid's guard by going too quickly off the usual script.
He searches those alien, strangely intelligent but blank eyes, then he finds it.
"None of the others did this."
His mind races, trying to figure out the best thing to say to let the kid's guard down. Then he catches himself, knowing the kid would see right through him if he lied or told half truths.
He sighs, trying to breath out his nervous tension and allowing himself to relax and indulge the itch in his knuckles. Trying to think about how to best express his desire instead.
He sees the child's eyes flicker and there's the slightest stirring in that mask of his. He'd chosen right. But being too quick to spill the beans probably won't lead him to anything.
"Why do you think they didn't?" He ask back, making sure to put a smile in his voice. A slight challenge slips in as well, betraying the thrill he's still riding on.
Green eyes studies him from below silver lashes, the pupils slowly narrowing. It awakens an unease back into him, but he suppresses. He can't be too quick to judge, this time. The child doesn't answer him, but that's not a surprise.
He offers the kid a rueful smile.
"It's fine to say it. You'll probably be right." The child lifts his head incrementally, small delicate tells, warm those childish features.
"They were relieved it was the last day, and were impatient to be done with me." The child answers steadily. Eyes boring into his own un-enhanced blue eyes.
A chill wants to creep its way up his back. But Fists, calms himself. He'd known Sephiroth was perceptive. Scissors had even told him that she suspected the child enjoyed the Turk's unease around him.
"Do you think I'm the same?" He asks the kid challengingly.
The kid's nostrils twitch. Fists would never have paid attention to such a little thing if it weren't for the fact that Sephiroth rarely indicated anything else with his face.
"No." Respond's the child softly, and Fist's feels his chest warm as he sees a layer of that mask gradually melt away. It's like seeing years fall away, and approaching his true age, though Sephiroth doesn't quite manage to pull off the look of a 5 year-old.
"Since it's our last day together, we will do something more meaningful. You can ask me anything." The child is quiet for a moment. He is sure, that the kid isn't thinking about his question.
"That Turk with the daggers, Scissors, how would I go about defeating her?" A chill passes through him as he stares down a shrewd cat-eyed gaze. Sephiroth may be a kid, but he is still dangerous.
But he has one thing on his side, experience, and he knows the game the child is playing.
"You start with a difficult questions." Those childlike eyes narrow. Not a good reaction.
"You do know she is my partner, right?" He answers, keeping himself cool.
Those nostrils flare and the child tilts his head ever so slightly, thoughtfulness creeping into his expression. He is sure the kid isn't wondering about anything Fists had said.
But the emotion is good, so he marks a point to himself.
"I'd feel guilty if you used that knowledge to hurt her." He's got a feeling this kid would not react well to any lies.
"I would only fight her if Shinra ordered it, or in self defence." Answers the kid smoothly, his mask returning.
"Of course you would." He replies knowingly with eyebrows meaningfully raised. But careful not to hold it against the child.
The child remains stoic, giving nothing away.
He sighs.
"What did you notice in your encounter with her?"
Those eyes which had dimmed flare in remembrance and interest.
"She had some sort of armour under her sleeves."
"Which would mean…"
"Breaking or injuring her lower arms would be much harder."
Fists, doesn't wince, but surprises himself with the urge to do so. He'd really changed a lot over the years. Noticing the boy's attention on him he continues.
"What else? The boy pauses, thinking.
"She might have Materia slots under her sleeves." Fists neither confirms nor denies.
"What else can you say about her combat stile?"
"She's a close quarter combatant, she doesn't have much reach, but she's quick." Fist's nods, pleased that the child seems to be relaxing.
"She's good at using feints and hiding her true attack." He nods again, wondering how the child had known to dodge that. His reaction speed had been superhuman, even by SOLDIER standards.
"And she doesn't hesitate."
Fists pauses.
"What do you mean?"
"She is sensitive too intent and once she is engaged, she is ruthless." There was an intricacy to the reasoning which constructed that sentence. He stares, at the kid not knowing how to feel, because yes, Scissors was sensitive to other's emotions, an she trusted her senses. It wasn't just instinct.
Those green eyes glow brighter, become more distance the narrow slit pupils narrow even further, until only a thin line of blackness cleaves the brilliant iris.
That is not a look he wants to see.
"How would you defeat her?" He moves the subject forward, trying not to dwell on his discomfort.
"Close the distance and incapacitate her before she draws her blades."
"That would be difficult. You'd have a better chance of using a ranged weapon" Comments fists. Scissors was a quick draw and she was always on guard around Sephiroth.
The child makes a face, not the sort of face a kid would usually make, instead his features become more pinched. Fists lets himself chuckle at the sight.
"Not fond of fire arms, are you?" Cool eyes gaze at him before they slide to the ground. For the first time Sephiroth changes his posture. Pulling up his knees to rest his chin on them and arms curl around his legs.
"No." It is a strange sight, to see him in such a child like posture. The child's nostrils twitch and his eyelids flutter.
"Let me guess, It's because they're not as exciting." Slowly those strange eyes rise to look up at him. Then they narrow into a dark smile. It sends bad chills down his arms.
"Fighting her… it felt so good…" He sees, the kids breathing pick up and his eyes both sharpen and drift away boring through Fists's chest, gazing at something that isn't there.
"I guess I ruined your moment then." He jokes weakly. He'd never usually joke about shooting at a kid, with said kid. But he think Sephiroth wouldn't mind.
The child refocuses, glancing up at him from beneath his silver brows. The other Turks hated when he did that but Fist's takes note of the pupils which aren't as constricted and the dimming glow. Good signs in his book.
"Stupid guns." Murmurs the kid back, unwrapping the arms around his legs and leaning back on them instead.
A grin tugs at his cheeks and he lets it spread over his face, both surprised and pleased the kid had joked back. That was good.
Leaning back on his hands the child looks more relaxed than ever, but still ever observing, studying. He is talking to the kid now, but he isn't careless enough to forget this kid isn't also the one who acts like a soulless puppet with a secret master.
"What were you aiming for?" The child's voice ring's out, light, casual, but his gaze is shadowed by his brow. It accentuates the eerie Mako glow.
This might have been difficult to answer for another, believing it was a loaded question. Fists is sure the kid is waiting to see if he'll trip over it, though he doesn't know how consciously Sephiroth is doing it.
He spreads his muscular arms and raises his brows.
"I hate guns too, you know. I'd obviously aim for the biggest target." He smiles knowingly at the boy.
The boy tilts his head back up, the overhead lights bathes his face once more.
The face is smooth as a doll's, but he doesn't let it shake his confidence. The boy straightens his posture maintaining eye contact.
"The company would have been displeased if your bullet had hit." Answers the child measuredly.
"I was doing my job." He lowers his hands with a shrug. "Besides…"
"You like us Turks the most."
Fists thinks that he sees a brief moment of surprise flicker through those bright eyes. And there might have been the briefest of smiles that passed though them.
He can't really tell, though. He'd never been good with these sort's of fine readings, not like Scissors or Sephiroth. But he could make predictions based on his experience.
That's why he was going to talk to this monstrous kid about the best way to cripple his partner, who, he was kinda attracted to.
Though there was nothing that could be done to change things now, he hopped that there could be a moment in their conversation that would make a difference in the future.
He knew, best of all, the importance of such small moments.
He'd been one of those kids, after all.
But he'd never tell anyone about that.
Author's note:
A big thank you goes to all those who left a comment in the last chapter as well as those who have commented since and encouraged me to keep writing.
Special thanks goes to ARJaJRA, tocasia, and Sephirise.
This chapter was actually a scene I'd forgotten to include. It is supposed to happen between the incident with Heidegger and the first SODIER training session. When I realised I didn't take it too seriously, thinking there was no rush to add it in. But then it became sorta relevant for the next chapter (guess why). I'll slip it in between the right chapters eventually. But for now it's chapter 22. Hope you've enjoyed it!
Seeing as it didn't really fit in, it turned into a chapter of it's own.
Next chapter has changed quite significantly from what I'd planned to write a year ago, but I think it is for the better. It sure is a hell lot more exciting ;)
Sorry for the long wait, I'm sure many have forgotten about this story. The only comfort I can give is that this story's only going to get better, and I have a lot of interesting scenes in store and you won't have to wait a year for the next chapter.
With that
Next chapter: Gast's death