Trapdoor (Part 23)

by anza (17.12.05)

This isn't right, he thought, frowning. The coffee room was a-bustle at this early hour. A Wedge, Biggs and Luke hailed him from the other side of the room, but he was too confounded in his reports to wave back. Kadaj took three seconds to lift his head and wave instead.

Smuggling reports were generally collected by the border police, who collected goods and evidence they would use to pass more anti-smuggling laws. The people who actually resorted the goods were a branch of the customs office. It wasn't even the Sales Department that was in charce of receiving reclaimed goods - it was Company Security. Thus, Cloud couldn't be sure of the reports coming to him, but at least he could isolate where the root of the problem began.

The problem was that even though Cloud had increased police prescence at the factories, smuggling rates of SOLDIER jeans had not gone down.

For a moment, Cloud considered getting Company Security to handle it. Rude, the man in charge, certainly looked as if he could do it. But given Zack Darklighter was president and under suspicion, Cloud resigned himself to the fact he would have to handle this one by himself. Perhaps it was too flashy a show of autonomy and independence, especially since hadn't even been here a month and had already changed or suggested a lot of things. But as he would be compliant with Rude and Zack's instructions, and the problem HAD started in his department, he figured he could probably get away with it, as long as no new factors popped up unexpectedly.

Given smuggling SOLDIER jeans was so prevalent before, Cloud knew there had be some reason the police were turning a blind eye. Most likely it was money, a bribe of some sort. He couldn't imagine someone coercing the police, not even the Turks, since turning in a Turk would be more profitable in money and reputation than a bribe. Cloud tapped his finger on his desk and mused over that. With the options available, all he could really do was follow a money trail. No matter; all SOLDIER Jeans Co. employee profiles were open to managers.

He frowned. But even if he discovered a money trail straight to Zack, he couldn't incrimiate him. His goal as Sales Department Manger Rowe Christopher would be to prove his president was illegally using funds. But his goal as Cloud Strife was to prove Zack Darklighter was a Turk.

The blond mulled over it a little more, then let it go. Perhaps there would be a way to prove Zack illegally using funds and a Turk when the time came. And that was only if he really DID find a money trail leading straight ot the Company President. For now, he would content himself with running searches on each employed policemens' bank account records.

Three hours later, he scribbled down the handful of numbers he narrowed it down to, hoping one of them contained a bribe. He wasn't even sure it was legal to have employees' recent bank transaction records in the database, but hey, if they were already there, who could blame him for using them? Especially since he was researching a problem in his own sector?

The office doorknob turned with a click, and Cloud looked up in time to see Kadaj saunter in, a stack of files under one arm and two giant steaming cardboard cups in the other. Cloud blinked as the scent wafted towards him, and then slowly smiled. It seemed Kadaj's childhood tastes hadn't changed even in the face of crisis - the aroma of hot chocolate distinctly came from the cup the teen claimed for himself.

They sipped in silence for a while, and then Kadaj spoke up. "Rowe? What are you going to do about the new products you talked about at the meeting? Zack and Luke have been asking about them."

Personally, Cloud felt memorizing the deluge of new names was the worst part about being a newcomer at a company. He reached into a drawer and pulled out the proposal he hammered out all last Sunday, and plopped it in front of his brother. "Make five copies for each department and leave them in the mailboxes of the managers and executive staff. Zack wants everyone updated on the new stuff." Briefly he rubbed the palms of his hands against his tired eyes. "Thanks for the coffee, Kane. I needed that."

Kadaj was silent for a moment, so still Cloud thought he'd said something wrong. But when the silver-haired teenager spoke up again, his voice was the same mild tone he'd used since they'd gotten on the train, "Is there anything else you need?"

And then that moment of silence between them passed, as Cloud shoved a while notepad of people and phone numbers for Kadaj to call back. It was only after Kadaj had gone did he feel that maybe he wanted Kadaj to stay, just a little longer.

----------

"Don't forget my promise!"

"Obey her."

The field was hazy, as if the camera lens hadn't been cleaned in many years. Cloud knew this was a memory, a very early one. Frowning, his younger self marched through the grass determindly, looking left and right.

A strange sensation rippled through Cloud as his child-self opened his mouth to shout, "NII-SAAAN!" into the open air of the winter sky above. Cloud froze, puzzled. He never called anyone "nii-san" in his childhood. Even Sephiroth had remained strictly "Seph" in their most comfortable moments. Who was he calling?

A flash of recognition made him stumble mentally, and then the bright, knowing eyes of Zack Darklighter faded back into the darkness of not-dream. Zack. Why was he suddenly reminded of Zack? Shrugging off the growing feeling of unease he got at the name, Cloud surmised the person his child-self was looking for probably had similar features.

Time wore on; Cloud got the idea he had been out here for hours and hours, little heart beating tenaciously in his ribcage with every shout of "Nii-san!". White breath wisped and then disappeared in the cold air. Even though Cloud knew he was physically warm in his bed with Kadaj right next to him, he couldn't help but give a shudder. Only, he wasn't sure whether it was because of the cold in his dream or because he felt his dream-self shouting so desperately, his little voice calling and calling to nobody in the bitter, nipping freeze of Midgar's winter.

Dark fell. Now Cloud recognized the scene.

Little Cloud watched as, one by one, the houses on the other side of the riverbank turned on, mere glimmers in the distance. In his search he had wandered far into the abandoned field. He was freezing now, his little hands had a blue tinge even he could see in the fading light. Seph's gonna be mad at me, he thought, and then pushed the thought away viciously. I don't need Seph! Who needs a brother like Seph? All I need is nii-san.

Again, Cloud reflected in confusion, hearing his younger self's thoughts. Just who is this "nii-san"? He brought Zack's image up from the depths of his conscience, staring, wondering, pondering, but nothing came to mind, not even a fleeting blur of color or sound. All there was was wariness, a sense of foreboding that he should be far away with Kadaj in tow, and that somewhere - somewhere before Costa Del Sol - he had met Zack Darklighter, had looked into those auburn-brilliant eyes...

A rustle, and child-Cloud turned though Cloud knew what would happen next. In the dream, the pain of Sephiroth's fist was muted, a dull throb that sparked in the blood under his skin for a moment, and then was lost to time. Cloud, in his younger self, stumbled back, trapped within the memory, staring up at Sephiroth fearfully. His adoptive older brother loomed over him, flashlight flickering in the golden tendrils of dead grass. Cloud didn't dare to ask how he had found him. "What are you DOING HERE!" the older boy barked, and Cloud cringed along with his child-self, all courage and defiance melting in an instant.

He opened his mouth to reply, and a torrent of half-formed images assaulted Cloud for a moment: dilapidated bulidings; hiding behind a smelly trashcan; the thrill of holding something he'd just stolen in his hands; the first and last time he was caught; the taste of food he'd earned, scalding hot and delicious in his mouth; a boy whose face was so fuzzy Cloud could only make out the outline of dark hair and the set of shoulders, achingly familiar, yet Cloud couldn't understand why...

Child-Cloud never got the chance to answer, as he was pulled to his feet and marched back home pronto. The warm house was a relief for his knocking limbs, his whole body trembling so badly it seemed incredible his soul hadn't shaken itself free yet. Only blurred images came after that, as his surrogate parents fed him, draped endless blankets around him, sat him in his customary chair at the kitchen table, murmuring questions but getting no answers from his chattering lips. Cloud only watched Sephiroth, regarding him cooly from the opposite end of the room, near the staircase, before the silver-haired boy turned and went upstairs. As a child, Cloud could read nothing in those eyes, though he had a hunch Sepihroth had actually been worried for him.

In the darkened hours of the morning, Cloud awoke again, like he had nights before, and wondered if such dreams were prophecies or clues sent from whoever reigned up above. Feeling his heart beat hard and fast in his chest, he hoped it was not either.