Disclaimer: If you don't get it by now I won't explain it.
A/N: This was written for a friend and wonderful author from deviantART. It was her idea so it's hers.
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The crowd slowly backed away from the scene as the two powerful generals glared at each other. Clearly there was something going on. Somewhere a young child wailed at the tension in the air, building with every passing moment. Building and growing until it was almost thick enough to cut with a knife.
"Genesis, you are going down," the younger silver haired man threatened.
The crowd gasped at the clear words of doom. Could their saviours be heading toward such a misunderstanding that it would end in bloodshed? Would the struggle kill those who were unlucky enough to be near? Would this bring the most powerful people down on their heads? Nobody knew.
"Bring it on Sephiroth," The redhead called Genesis countered. "Youngsters like you should still be holding their mother's apron strings anyway."
Knuckles tightened on the grips of swords before they are checked that they will leave their scabbards smoothly and cleanly.
"Name your rules old man."
"There are none."
"Good."
Both men turned and walked away from each other, 5 paces, not a movement more, then turning to face each other.
Their hands came up in unison while gasps of terror enveloped the air around them.
Two sets of silky locks, one silver, one red, fluttered in the air as the hand came up to flick them away from the ear it covered and over the shoulder it rested on.
"I got you this time Sephiroth," Genesis smirked.
"Damn you old man. I'll get you next time!"