Final Fantasy VII characters, settings, and ideas do not belong to me but to Square Enix.
Warnings: Mild blood
A Class of Their Own
By Taliya
A knock on the door to the cabin stirred the single occupant within from his idle staring out the window and listening to three mechanical engineers swearing energetically at something two stories below him. "Enter," he called, his high, twelve-year-old voice at odds with the solemnity of the command. His eyes observed the twenty-something-year-old infantryman who entered and snapped into the standard crisp salute used by members of the Shinra Public Security Forces.
"Sephiroth, sir, the captain wanted me to inform you that repairs to the ship will likely take a week, and that for the duration of that time you are free to explore the surrounding area."
"Noted," the one addressed as Sephiroth acknowledged. "Dismissed." The infantryman snapped out another salute and left, closing the door quietly behind him, leaving behind a quietly contemplative child warrior. The airship he was aboard was headed for the southern end of the island continent of Wutai, where his employer, Shinra Electric Power Company, had declared war because the locals had not wanted Shinra to build a mako reactor within their borders. Shinra had, as a result sent in battalions of infantrymen and a handful of SOLDIER Second and Third Classes. Sephiroth would be the first SOLDIER First Class to be deployed.
It would be, in Professor Hojo's, words, the first true field test of his usefulness to the company. Given how Sephiroth had grown up knowing nothing but the Science Department's labs, and warfare and battle simulations, going out on his own—truly on his own, and outside of Midgar, at that—like this was a first for him. Never had he ever stepped outside of the Shinra Tower until he had officially been inducted into SOLDIER's ranks at the tender age of seven as their prototype, and even then, it was strictly for monster hunts beneath the Plate—all under the supervision of a more adventurous scientist under Hojo's direction and a handful of hand-picked infantrymen as backup.
As the sole SOLDIER at the beginning of the program, he had been categorized as a Third. When his mako treatments intensified and he became stronger and faster, he was bumped up to Second, and that was when other people, carefully selected by Hojo, began undergoing their own mako treatments to become Thirds. His rise to First happened when he was eleven, and by then he had eight Seconds and thirty-two Thirds under his command—all of whom were older than him by a minimum of five years.
It had been a hard-won road to earn the respect of his subordinates, considering they were all older and had not taken lightly to having to take orders from, in one of his subordinate's words, "a prepubescent snot-nosed brat," but his superior strength, intelligence, and skill had quickly silenced any dissension within the ranks. Now, his men—for it turned out that women did not fare well with mako treatments—gave him the respect his position deserved, though with that respect had also come distance. Any hope Sephiroth had had at making the fabled "friends" that he had read about in books sneaked to him by Professor Gast in his youngest years had been rapidly snuffed out, and he had speedily come to terms with the fact that apparently "friends" were not something he was fit to have.
Sephiroth unfolded the lanky limbs attached to his 160-centimeter frame from where he had been resting on his bunk, absently combing through long silver strands with his fingers for knots. Curious eyes darted to the window once more, taking in the burnt oranges and golds of the Cosmo Canyon region that he could see through the portal and ignoring the headache that had been a part of his existence for so long that he no longer registered the pain. "Explore, huh…?" he murmured, and exited his cabin, looking forwards to learning about the stronghold of those who pursued the study of natural life—the antithesis of everything Shinra stood for.
Despite Cosmo Canyon not being outright Shinra-hostile—as far as Sephiroth knew—it did not hurt to have several orbs of materia slotted and ready on his bangle. Carrying the custom-made odachi he had christened "Masamune", however, was likely overkill as far as his personal safety was concerned, as there was likely nothing on Gaia save perhaps a dragon or tonberry that could kill him. He stepped down the airship's gangplank, taking a moment to absorb his surroundings.
Housings seemingly hewn into towering ochre sandstone cliffs and connected by ladders greeted him. The desert air was arid and warm, carrying scents of various animals and plants to his sensitive nose, all underlain by an indescribable but undeniably organic sort of dusty scent that seemed to permeate everything. The transition from filtered, air-conditioned air to dust- and pollen-laden air had him sneezing twice. He shook himself, wiping his nose with his handkerchief, before continuing across the broad plaza to one of the larger—and likely public—entrances to the buildings above.
The people he encountered gave him wide berth, most likely due to his SOLDIER uniform and unusual appearance. With waist-length silver hair, almost abnormally fair skin, and mako-green eyes complete with slitted pupils, Sephiroth knew his looks were distinctive. He had yet to meet anyone else with an appearance even remotely like his own, silver hair on the elderly notwithstanding. His SOLDIER uniform probably did not help him here: the combat boots, gloves, suspendered belt, and shoulder pauldrons were standard, but the color of his trousers and sleeveless turtleneck were black—indicative of his classification as the first and only First.
He began poking around, careful not to accidentally enter someone's private abode. The interior was a maze of caves, and Sephiroth could not help but be somewhat in awe over the clever use of natural cavern spaces to create lodgings. He found the general store after a few wrong turns and purchased a few local snacks to munch on, as he had neglected to ask about mealtimes before he had departed from the airship and was not bothered enough to use his PHS to call and ask the galley chefs for details. As he rebelliously chewed on a bit of peppered jerky—definitely an item not in the meal plans the professor had instructed he eat—he paused on a small terrace near the top of the cliffs, wind gently tugging his silver hair as he drank in the way he could see across the landscape all the way to the eastern horizon. It was a breathtaking sight.
Sephiroth eventually meandered to the top of the collection of small edifices after polishing off his snack and found himself in a rather sophisticated observatory. Having never seen anything quite so complicated outside of biomedical equipment, he did not touch anything, but did catalogue everything with his curious gaze.
"Interested in exploring the wonders of the heavens?"
Silver hair whipped around him as he spun at the voice, subtly charging up the Lightning materia in his bangle even as he wondered how his heightened senses had been unable to detect the man's approach. His eyes snapped onto the short figure of a whiskery, bald man wearing round glasses. His age was apparent in the silvery-white color of his beard and the lines that creased the corners of his eyes and the smile lines of his cheeks. He stood at a height that was eye to eye with Sephiroth, given that he had perched himself on a green, levitating sphere. It was a method of transport that Sephiroth had never seen before, and one that he was furtively very curious of.
"Oh dear," the man murmured, "I'm sorry if I startled you, my boy. It is not often one at your age expresses such keen interest in the observatory."
Sephiroth took a moment to process everything the man said, and at length, with a faintly puzzled wrinkle to his brow, asked, "What are these 'heavens'?" He had never come across the word in his studies before and supposed that the term was not relevant to battle tactics and weapons utilization and maintenance. He had heard it used by others as a swear of some sort, and therefore had always associated it with something… well, not necessarily good. But perhaps it was one of those words that had more than one definition…?
The elderly man's bushy brows shot up in surprise. "The heavens?" he repeated with soft reverence. "The heavens are everything that surrounds you and me: the sky above our heads that includes the distant multitudes of stars within it, as well as our planet itself—one of many such entities that make up the known universe that we live in."
"It sounds… big," he remarked coolly, his brimming childish curiosity harshly tempered by years of training meant to drive out all emotion courtesy of the professor.
"Ho ho ho!" the spectacled man chortled, "The heavens is a space vaster than the human mind can comprehend!" The man leaned down to whisper conspiratorially, "But even if we cannot fully understand the scale, we can still appreciate it, right?" he punctuated his words with a cheerful wink.
Sephiroth did not mean to allow the shy smile that curved his lips to escape, but nonetheless smiled and nodded. "Mm," he quietly agreed, and hoped that he was acting the right way and saying the right words in order to not offend this seemingly genial older man.
"May I ask for your name, lad?" the man asked.
"Sephiroth, sir," he answered, and held out his hand for a formal handshake. There was a flash of recognition in the man's eyes when he had spoken his name, but otherwise there was no other outward reaction.
"Call me Bugenhagen," Bugenhagen said, reaching out to enthusiastically pump their joined hands up and down several times. Sephiroth hoped that the man had not noticed the minute, instinctive flinch that had rippled through him at first physical contact. "Now," he exclaimed briskly, rubbing his hands together in excitement, "is there anything in particular that you want to see? Specific stars or galaxies?"
Sephiroth frowned. "But stars are only visible at night," he argued. He knew what stars were, had seen a handful of them through the murky haze that constantly surrounded Midgar, but they had never been visible during the day, even when he had searched the skies with his enhanced vision. And it was currently just a little past lunch hour and the sun was still up, given that he had eaten jerky in a defiant substitute for an actual lunch.
Bugenhagen tutted, a sly gleam in his eyes. "Ah, but you've probably never been inside a planetarium, have you, lad?" At Sephiroth's shake of the head, he glided over to the control panels on one of several machines that lined the circular room. "Stand over there," he directed, pointing a finger towards the center of the room as he fiddled with one of the controls. "Give me a moment to change the settings and I'll join you shortly."
The silver-haired child dutifully strolled to the center of the room and patiently waited. Bugenhagen joined him shortly, and a second later the ground shuddered and lifted the two of them up. As they ascended, the ceiling lights dimmed and projectors in the walls flared to life, immersing Sephiroth in a glittering world of endless pinpricks of light. His breath caught in his throat at the sight, and he tentatively reached out to touch one of the twinkling motes that drifted before his face. His hand went through the light and he retracted his arm, but the wonder that filled his chest remained. After several seconds the floor finally stilled, and Sephiroth slowly twisted this way and that, unsure of what to do with himself as a tide of foreign excitement filled him. He had never seen something so magnificently breathtaking.
"I…" He stalled, completely speechless in the face of the beauty of the heavens that Bugenhagen had freely given him. He gazed at the man, eyes filled with wonder and a deep gratefulness. "Mister Bugenhagen," he began again after several aborted attempts to form a coherent thought, "it's beautiful."
Bugenhagen began explaining things about the pinpricks of light that drifted around him, pausing every so often to fiddle with some control on a nearby stand that would change the view. Sephiroth drank in the spectacle, interjecting questions at the older man's prompting. It was such a new thing to him, the heavens—it was something new, something different, something… that had no practical applications to his everyday life, and yet…
It fascinated him to no end, and somewhere inside him yawned a hunger to learn more despite the uselessness of the knowledge. The young SOLDIER felt an odd emotion clog his chest as he gazed about him, felt his breath stutter for no apparent reason, felt a need to… cry? Whyever did he want to cry? He was not injured, and even if he was, the professor had conditioned him to never cry, for crying was weakness and weakness was not tolerated. But his sinuses still burned, and his vision still blurred, regardless of his conditioning, and Sephiroth did his best to forcefully tamp down on the sensation.
"Child," Bugenhagen murmured, and Sephiroth turned to find the elderly man watching him with concerned, kind eyes, "are those tears?"
"I'm not crying!" Sephiroth vehemently denied, ducking his head to hide his face away with his hair while wiping at his eyes. "And I'm not a child—I'm twelve and I'm a SOLDIER, and SOLDIERs don't cry!"
"SOLDIER you may be," the older man said softly after a long pause, "but you are still a child in age—especially compared to me. And children are allowed to cry."
The young SOLDIER quietly sniffled. "But crying is a display of weakness…"
Bugenhagen shook his head. "Crying is not a sign of weakness, Sephiroth." He glided up to the boy and reached out, gently placing his hands on Sephiroth's shoulders, just above the pauldrons so that Sephiroth could feel the warmth of the man's hands through his shirt.
Sephiroth flinched hard, barely refraining from slapping away his hands and likely accidentally breaking his arms. The elderly man immediately retreated physically. "Apologies, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable."
"No, it's—" As much as he instantly wanted to reassure the older man that no harm had been done, he could not get the words out of his mouth even as he curled his arms around his stomach in an unconscious gesture of self-soothing. He was not hurt, the man's touch had not harmed him, and yet he felt… guilty, for some reason. As if it had been him who had harmed the other. He pushed aside the emotions and observation for later dissection. It was with some difficulty that he somewhat forced himself to say softly while blinking back unshed tears, "It's fine."
Bugenhagen frowned but refrained from making a comment about Sephiroth's touch-averse behavior, which he was absolutely positive would have warranted immediate correction from the professor. Instead, the older man gracefully ignored the way Sephiroth had tensed in preparation for his response and continued the previous conversation. "While crying is indicative of sadness, grief, and pain, crying can also indicate joy, excitement, happiness. It is an expression of deep, unfiltered emotion—and it is proof that we are all human, and that we all can feel the range of emotions that life has to offer, both good and bad. Don't feel ashamed to cry, child." He grinned abruptly, playfully. "I still cry too, and I'm over a hundred years old!"
Sephiroth eyed him in obvious disbelief, body relaxing despite itself at the other man's nonthreatening talk. "No, you don't," he muttered.
"I can promise you, child, I still do cry," Bugenhagen vowed. "My grandson has seen it happen on several occasions. Now, how about we go downstairs, and I make you a cup of nice, warm tea? You look like you could use it."
"But…" Sephiroth cast a forlorn look around him, eyes staring that the multitude of stars that twinkled around them.
Bugenhagen smiled kindly. "How about this? For as long as you're here, you can come visit the planetarium for an hour provided I'm here to help with the controls. I have a lot of intricate calculations made to look for specific objects in the sky that I would like to not lose."
The SOLDIER stared down at his feet, thinking. The older man's offer was very kind, as he was under no such obligation to pander to Sephiroth's wants or curiosity. Likely he had just offered out of politeness. Sephiroth knew that adults were not this kindhearted, nor would they go out of their way to do anything for him. "It's okay…?" he asked tentatively, peering up at the man through his lashes and mentally ready to withdraw at the first hint of refusal.
"Of course, dear boy," the bearded man answered. "What time works best for you?" He added, "I suggest during the day, since at night we can gaze up at the heavens directly."
The two of them discussed ideal planetarium visitation times, Sephiroth following Bugenhagen into his private abode. The elderly man bade Sephiroth sit in a worn, simple chair with an equally simple table, and bustled about making tea. He brought over two cups, setting one before the boy. "Chamomile tea," he offered. "While normally people drink it to help them sleep, it does help with stress as well."
Sephiroth carefully sipped at the steaming cup, the floral notes of the tea light and fragrant and the heat warming his core even if he had still somehow managed to burn his tongue. "It's good. Thank you."
Bugenhagen took a long sip of his own, seemingly uncaring of how hot the liquid was. "Remind me to send you off with a box when you head out."
"I couldn't possibly—!" Sephiroth protested. The social etiquette books all said that he was supposed to politely refuse gifts first before accepting them. Why that was how such exchanges were supposed to go was honestly very weird, in Sephiroth's opinion. Why refuse something you were ultimately going to accept anyway?
"If you don't accept, I'll find a way to slip one onto your ship with your name on it," Bugenhagen threatened, overriding any of Sephiroth's objections. The older man then proceeded to seamlessly pick up their conversation on visitation times, transitioning into an informative, interactive lecture that had Sephiroth soaking in every detail. He peppered the man with questions that were enthusiastically answered to the best of the man's ability.
A young voice called out something in a foreign tongue from somewhere outside Bugenhagen's home. It reverberated along the cavern walls and projected through the still open front door. Whoever was the speaker was approaching at a rather rapid clip as the volume of their speech increased before stuttering to a halt right at the entrance.
In the doorway where the voice had come from was a… cat. Granted, it was a rather sizable cat that stood perhaps as tall as the bottom of Sephiroth's ribcage, with deep red fur and overlarge paws, and… was its tail on fire? A beaded, feathered comb was tucked into front of the cat's burnished mane, nestled between its ears, and the longer fur snaked up its neck to its shoulders. Geometric tribal brands decorated the feline's shoulders, stark black and sharp despite the fur. Aureate eyes studied him warily, and Sephiroth could only stare curiously in return, barely containing the urge to blurt out, "What are you?"
"Ah, Nana," Bugenhagen greeted warmly in Common, as though it was a foregone conclusion that the beast before them could talk. "Come, join us in our discussion on the heavens! Young Sephiroth here has many questions about the universe."
"I'm good," the cat replied, switching to lightly accented Common with a casualness that indicated that it had experienced such discussions more times than it cared to count. "I came to tell you that it's dinnertime and that Chief decided meatloaf is on the menu tonight," it said, greeting the man by rubbing a cheek against his leg before sitting next to him on the floor. At Bugenhagen's delighted chortle, the cat huffed. "Yes, I know it's your favorite, so let's go before it's all gone."
Bugenhagen blinked. "What time is it?"
Sephiroth looked around for a clock and found one ticking away over the kitchen sink. It was indeed dinnertime. When he had left the airship, it had been just before the lunch hour. At the mention of the evening meal, it finally registered just how hungry he was, given that he had skipped lunch via jerky, as he had all but ignored his bodily functions in his excitement to talk with Bugenhagen. His stomach chose that moment to rather noisily protest, and he flushed in embarrassment as both man and cat eyed him. "Sorry," he mumbled sheepishly.
The older man chuckled. "Young ones like you are always hungry. And ah, before I forget—Sephiroth, this is my grandson, Nanaki. Not by blood, but he is family all the same. Nanaki, this is Sephiroth. He's about your age, mentally."
Nanaki nodded. "Hello," he greeted, though he privately wondered what that last comment had been about. What "mental age" was he talking about?
Sephiroth's fingers twitched, brain rapidly debating the usefulness of the requisite handshake in such a situation. "Hello," he echoed, ultimately with a nod of his own. He did not quite see the sense in offering a handshake to someone who had no hands—unless Nanaki wanted a pawshake?
"We need to hurry down to the canteen," Nanaki verbally nudged, "You know the meatloaf goes fast."
"Oh ho, we can't let it disappear before we get some, can we?" Bugenhagen replied jovially. He turned to Sephiroth. "Would you like to join us for a meal?"
The silver-haired youth gazed appraisingly at the odd pair before him, pondering if it would be rude to accept or reject. "You wouldn't mind?" Despite the fact that his words were directed at the both of them, his eyes watched for the cat's reaction.
One of Nanaki's ears flicked backwards. "I don't mind if Grandfather doesn't," he said neutrally.
Sephiroth sucked in a bracing breath and took the plunge. "I'd like that," he said accepted timidly.
Nanaki hummed in confirmation before he stood, rounded to Bugenhagen's other side, and began gently herding his grandfather towards the door. Bugenhagen chuckled and floated himself out the door. The cat waited until Sephiroth had exited his grandfather's quarters before he pulled the door shut using a short length of rope attached to the handle.
The mismatched trio wound their way down to the plaza, crossing the wide space to the canteen, a larger cavern carved into the base of the cliff. Inside, rows of tables filled the interior, the edges of the space lined with people queued for the small buffet. Sephiroth called the airship to inform the crew that he would not be dining on board, and he wondered if the breach in protocol would be reported back to the professor. His meals were all formulated by the Science Department and calibrated for his specific metabolic needs, as the professor would sometimes mumble about caloric intake and protein-to-carbohydrate ratios whenever he visited the labs for his checkups.
When the three made it to the buffet, Sephiroth carefully copied Bugenhagen, selecting the same foods as the older man. Bugenhagen, however, caught on quickly and stacked additional plates of food items onto Sephiroth's tray. At the boy's quizzical look, he explained, "SOLDIER children such as yourself need lots of food to grow big and strong. Especially people like you, little SOLDIER. Also, when are you going to get good food like this again?"
Bugenhagen insisted on paying for the trio of trays, Nanaki's tray levitating behind the older man as they made their way to a table with a large, wide bench on one end. Nanaki agilely hopped onto the bench, and his tray of plain-cooked meats and bones was set before him. Sephiroth perched himself on a chair next to the cat as Bugenhagen settled into a space with no seating furniture at all.
As his other two companions dug into their food, Sephiroth tentatively took a bite of the meatloaf, eyes widening in surprise at the taste. It was delicious: well-seasoned, hearty, and rich in flavor. The tomato-based sauce that covered added a sweet-sour dimension to his mouthful of meatloaf.
"Good?" Bugenhagen asked with a knowing twinkle in his eye.
Mouth still too full to politely reply, Sephiroth nodded instead. A loud crack to his left revealed Nanaki had bitten through a rather thick bone. The cat quietly purred as he licked out the dark, rich marrow. Bugenhagen proceeded to fill the quiet between the three of them with quiet conversation on more mundane matters that drew both Nanaki and Sephiroth in. Nanaki discussed how his day had one out in the Canyon hunting, and Sephiroth had broadly explained his duties within SOLIDER as the only First.
"Nanaki?" he quietly asked during in a lull in their conversation not long after he had finished off his meatloaf and was working on his vegetable sides. "Would it be rude to ask what you are?" He immediately wished he had kept his mouth shut when Nanaki froze mid lick.
The feline's attention switched from his meal to him, amber gaze focusing on him with eyes that contained the same slitted pupils as his own. The fiery tail curled around the massive paws, tip bobbing lightly and illuminating the space between the bench and the table as Nanaki studied him. Sephiroth waited for some sort of answer with bated breath.
"I am what you would call a fire cat, if we use the rough Common translation from Cosmolese. I am, to my knowledge, the last of my kind."
"Oh… I'm sorry," Sephiroth murmured, feeling as though he had somehow stepped squarely on a what one of his books had called a "social landmine," and he backpedaled as best as he could. "I'm one of the last of my kind, too," he offered, hoping to alleviate some of the awkwardness and guilt he felt at giving in to his curiosity.
Nanaki tilted his head quizzically. "Last of your kind? Are you not human like Grandfather?" The pair glanced at the man in question, who was very clearly ignoring their conversation in favor of happily working towards polishing off his meatloaf.
Now, Sephiroth felt particularly stupid asking his question, because reciprocating by answer felt nearly impossible. The fact that his origins were unclear even to him abruptly had him feeling extraordinarily ashamed at his lack of more detailed knowledge. All he knew was that his father was an unknown and that Jenova was his mother. Beyond that, he had nothing.
"Could I answer your question somewhere less… crowded?" he quietly said in lieu of an answer, not wanting to admit his own ignorance in the midst of such a large crowd. While he was fairly sure that few people would pay attention to what he said, the fact that it was his own personal information he was going to divulge made him wary of eavesdroppers.
Nanaki nodded and resumed his meal. Sephiroth turned back to his own meal, picking at it. He no longer felt hungry—not when his reply to Nanaki loomed on the horizon.
A small plate with a small portion of meatloaf materialized on his tray, and Sephiroth glanced up to find Bugenhagen had offered up a share of the prized main entrée. "Eat up, SOLDIER child, you're probably going to get this only once while you're here, and Chief doesn't make meatloaf frequently."
"But—!" Sephiroth objected, knowing based on Nanaki's words how much Bugenhagen enjoyed the meatloaf.
Bugenhagen shook his head. "Chief will make it again and I'll be here to eat it. You won't. Please eat."
Sephiroth ended up finishing everything on his tray, feeling satiated despite himself. He helped clear the trays, bidding Bugenhagen a good evening before following Nanaki out to the plaza. The sun had set while they had eaten, and the temperature outside was considerably cooler. Someone had started a fire in the firepit in the center of the plaza, though at the moment no one was there to enjoy the warmth. Sephiroth sat down on a nearby log, the silver-haired boy feeling the distinct contrast of chill on his back and heat on his front. Nanaki stretched out on the ground by his feet, gaze towards the fire with an ear tilted in his direction.
There was a distinct reluctance to answer the question that had been turned back on him. Sephiroth was filled with regret for ever opening his mouth. But all the training he had been put through had cemented the fact that his word should be his bond. The professor would not have accepted anything less, the man wanting nothing but perfection from him. Gathering his nerve, Sephiroth said with quiet hesitancy, "As far as I know, I was created, not born."
Nanaki's amber eyes swiveled towards him. "Aren't all living things born, yourself included?"
Sephiroth shrugged, gazing up at the now-dark heavens, eyes picking out the twinkles of distant stars. "I wonder sometimes. Was Gaia born the way we are? What about the stars? The sun? I'm not so sure they are born so much as they just begin to exist one day."
The fire cat chuckled. "Sounds like something you should discuss with Grandfather," he remarked.
The two sat companionably near the fire. As the desert night air continued to cool, Sephiroth began shivering slightly, though he was loathe to leave the heat of the fire for the drab interior of his cabin on the airship. At length he had to surrender lest he fall ill from the coolness and bid Nanaki a good night before he ambled back onto the airship. He passed a few of the Thirds that had come with him on this trip, bidding them good night. Cleaning himself in the tiny communal onboard bathroom was done quickly before he slid himself under the covers. He popped open his window, allowing some of the cool Canyon air to circulate in his cabin, and quickly fell asleep to the scent of desert dust and the sound of chirping crickets.
Mornings following that first day found Sephiroth practicing sword forms on the edge of the plaza. The cold, crisp canyon air was refreshing and woke him up wonderfully, and he would follow up his forms with monster hunting in the Canyon proper. He would slay Skeeskees and Desert Sahagins for the first half of the day, returning to the airship for lunch before hanging around in the observatory discussing all matter of topics regarding the universe with a keen Bugenhagen until dinner. Oftentimes, Nanaki would join in during the later half of the afternoon, and the three of them would adjourn to dinner, followed by restful evenings loitering around the firepit. On the nights Bugenhagen joined Sephiroth and Nanaki, the three of them would return to the observatory and exit out the side door that Sephiroth had used to enter the first time to stargaze on the cliffs. Bugenhagen would wax poetic about the night sky, how all life on the planet was connected, and how mako was the planet's lifeblood, though the old man would always excuse himself early to turn in for bed.
"Old people," Nanaki had joked the first night after the elderly man had left them to their own devices. Sephiroth had surprised himself by giggling conspiratorially in response.
Talking alone with Nanaki had started off stilted, but with many false starts and fits, conversation had eventually smoothed out. Sephiroth had persevered because here was a chance to form a "friendship" with someone who was relatively unbiased about him, was not his subordinate or superior, and was theoretically around his age. He had buried the desire for friendship deep within himself—had believed he had snuffed it out completely—but Nanaki's general kindness and patience had him tentatively hoping for… well, something, at any rate. His desire to become friends with the fire cat was further fueled by the fact that the few other children in Cosmo Canyon around his age shied away from him for various reasons, be it his looks, his uniform, or his professional affiliation.
While he and the cat rarely ever delved into deeper topics, they grew comfortable comparing notes on the creatures they encountered during their hunts, methods of dispatching them, and ways to make their hunts more efficient. Eventually their conversation expanded to things that they considered both normal and exotic: Sephiroth told of his life in Shinra, of his experiences growing up under the eye of Shinra's scientists, and Nanaki of his life in the Canyon, the history of his kind.
It was… different, talking about things that were not war strategy, training regimens, or political maneuvering, and Sephiroth found himself thoroughly enjoying himself. There was no need to guard himself in his interactions with Nanaki, as the fire cat had no ties whatsoever to Shinra, and nothing he spoke of with the feline would likely make its way back to the professor. It was a freedom that he had never known before, one that made his burgeoning hunger for independence imagine a world free of the professor's chokehold on his metaphorical collar.
It was the fifth morning of his airship being grounded. Sephiroth was out in the Canyon clearing the area of monsters, his thoughts fixated on the newly bloomed idea of a life not under the professor's thumb. His preoccupation meant that he was therefore surprised by the entrance of a larger, more lethal monster into his current skirmish against a group of Skeeskees.
"Look out!" was his only warning before he was unceremoniously shoved to the hard dirt, thrown out hands barely saving him from a broken nose. There was a roar and a screech behind him, and the SOLDIER rolled quickly to his feet, hefting the Masamune upwards into a ready position even as he ignored the aches in his possibly broken wrists from absorbing the impact of his fall. The griffin that Nanaki was now fighting flapped its massive wings dove at the fire cat, talons extended before it. He had not even heard the beast approaching, and therefore had been completely caught unawares. The feline leapt, meeting the griffin midair in a tangle of claws and talons, teeth and beak.
Sephiroth also leapt, shouting a warning. "On your four!"
Nanaki promptly disengaged and used the creature's chest as a springboard, launching himself away—just in time for Sephiroth to slash his blade down, cleanly separating the griffin's head from its body. The two landed to small plumes of red dust within the larger cloud from the fallen griffin, the bodies of the dead monsters dissipating into mako-green motes of light. The SOLDIER snapped his blade to the magnetic holster on his back, huffing and mentally berating himself for his lack of spatial awareness, his mood thoroughly soured by his own idiocy.
When it was clear the SOLDIER was not going to say anything, Nanaki huffed somewhat acidly as Sephiroth wordlessly stalked off, "A 'thank you' for watching your back might be nice, you know?"
Although tempted to retort that the griffin had been highly unlikely to kill him since as far as he knew, he was practically indestructible, Sephiroth nonetheless bit out a terse, "Thank you," even as he mentally bid the companionable fireside chats farewell. Sephiroth knew he was being irrational, but his performance just now had irritated him for reasons he was still not quite sure of—was it disappointment manifesting from himself or perceived from an imaginary professor? And why did the man's opinion even factor in when he was half a world away? While he knew he needed to cool his head in order to think rationally, he was upset that he even needed to cool his head in the first place, and thus the circular thinking wound him up even more. He was upset that he was upset, and really, how did that make sense at all?
Nanaki's grumbled, "Should have just the stupid griffin eat you," under his breath froze his legs even as irrational anger welled in his chest. He had not asked Nanaki to help him—he could have taken care of the task himself, however beat up he might end up afterwards. It was without any cognizant filter to his words that he snapped out, "Like I wanted you to help in the first place."
"See if I help you again the next time you're about to become bird food," the fire cat retorted.
"Good riddance if it ate you instead!" Sephiroth had the barest sense that something was approaching him before he was unceremoniously smashed face first into the dirt, the air knocked out of his lungs from the heavy weight that had landed on his back. The Masamune skittered away, dislodged from its holster by his attacker. His head was painfully jerked backwards by his hair, and he gritted his teeth and ignored it as he rolled, flinging his aggressor off. The move unfortunately had the side effect of yanking even more harshly on his hair, which he now saw was firmly in the grip of Nanaki's teeth, the fire cat growling angrily.
The SOLDIER's aggravation exploded, and he wordlessly snarled as he ignored his weapon and leapt at the feline, intent on tearing the beast limb from limb with his bare hands.
Nanaki immediately released his hair, jaw opening with a roar to catch Sephiroth on the shoulder where his pauldron did not cover, claws extended to rake across Sephiroth's bare arms. The cat's canines sunk into the leather of his SOLDIER belt's suspenders, though they were long and sharp enough to impale the skin beneath. The pair tumbled to the ground in a mess of limbs, Sephiroth using his fists to beat at Nanaki's sides and face with damaging force since he could not get a firm grip on any particular limb, while the cat did his utmost to tear Sephiroth's flesh to ribbons.
Amidst their scrabbling, Sephiroth jerked his head to the side, dodging the lunge Nanaki had made for his throat. He twisted and threw the cat backwards to distance himself from the feline, leaping backwards to snatch the Masamune. Blood flowed freely from cuts on his arms and chest, the knit turtleneck shredded to display deep wounds that revealed exposed ribs and sternum, though the mako in his blood was already at work repairing his injuries. His grasp on his sword was shaky, as Nanaki had managed to partially sever a few of the muscles in his left forearm that controlled his fingers. With his free hand, he wiped more blood off from a recently healed but still itching wound on his forehead, though he only succeeded in smearing more across his face.
Nanaki was not in much better condition. He heavily favored his front right paw, and Sephiroth was positive he had cracked several of the cat's ribs. The feline's fur was matted with sweat and the fire of his tail burned brighter than he had ever seen before. The fire cat's lips were pulled back in an unfriendly snarl as the two stared each other down.
Bitterness coiled in Sephiroth's gut at the feline's hostility. I should have known better, he thought cynically, I should have known that friendship was beyond my reach.
"I should have known that nothing good could come from Shinra," Nanaki rumbled, gold eyes glaring.
"Like there'd be anything good from this backwater dump to begin with," Sephiroth snipped back, switching to a double-handed grip so that he could better grasp his sword. It also allowed his non-dominant right hand to take up some of the strain that came with wielding the Masamune.
The fire cat snarled, incensed. "You take that back!"
"Make me!" the SOLDIER snapped, and he brought his blade up to parry Nanaki's enraged charge. Claws clanged harshly against steel, and Sephiroth swiped the sword down with the intention of flinging the cat away.
The cat bristled in outrage and pain at the sound of his voice. "You are an ungrateful whelp of a cub! Didn't your parents ever teach you manners?" he snarled, glaring at Sephiroth with bright, golden eyes.
Sephiroth froze as he recalled the doting that he had seen other scientists do whenever they talked about their own children to their colleagues. He had seen the affection in their eyes and had heard it in their voices—had yearned for it from the adults in the labs before when he was much younger—only to be harshly slapped away and punished for even wanting it in the first place. Resentment coiled in his gut at the recollection, and he bitterly confessed, "I don't have parents."
All the fight went out of Nanaki at those four words. "Oh…" he breathed, instantly contrite.
The SOLDIER exhaled heavily through his nose, feeling abruptly tired beyond measure as he relaxed from his ready stance. "My mother's name is Jenova, and I don't know who my father is," he said. He did not elaborate any further. Honestly, he was not even sure why he had mentioned even that much.
It was the first time Sephiroth had divulged any truly personal information about himself to another. While such information was not considered confidential, neither was it readily accessible. The idea that he was disseminating sensitive information—despite it being about himself—made him smirk in satisfaction at the "data leak." The professor had a penchant for keeping information close to the chest, after all, and if this got back to him, it would be sure to infuriate the man.
Nanaki softly sighed as he sat and began to lick his bleeding wounds. "If it's any consolation, my father was a coward to ran away when the Canyon was under attack when I was still a cub. He's a traitor, but… he loved me, for what it was worth. Mother died when I not long after I was born, so I do understand somewhat about… not having parents." He bent his head, apparently ashamed. "It still sucks, though."
Sephiroth sighed as he sent a Cura at the fire cat to ensure that all of the damage that he had inflicted was healed. "It does suck," he agreed after parsing out the definition of the word "suck" in the context of Nanaki's apology. He absently scratched at his healing chest, ripping open a few of the scabs without meaning to in the process before he cast a Cura on himself.
"I shouldn't have said that, regardless. Making jabs at one's family—or lack thereof—was…" The cat grimaced. "I'm really sorry for saying that at all."
"It's fine," the SOLDIER deflected. "You didn't know, and I…" his voice softened as he whispered in a guilty confession, "I don't think I'd care if they were both dead." Nanaki gazed somberly, sadly back at him, and something within Sephiroth broke at seeing that unhappy, sympathetic gaze. "They didn't want me…" he mumbled, verbalizing a belief he had long kept secret. "If they did, why did they leave me in the labs? I—"
Sephiroth hiccupped and panicked as the telltale burning in his sinuses was a prelude to tears, and Nanaki was suddenly there, rubbing a warm cheek against his stomach while a purr vibrated through his belly. He dropped the Masamune in the rust red dirt, carefully placing hands on Nanaki's neck. He sniffled and suddenly buckled to the ground as the cat surged upwards to grasp his shoulders by the paws, the weight of the feline pulling the both of them onto the dirt. Sephiroth let out a surprised, "Oof!" and barely restrained the reflexive instinct to gut the cat with his nothing but his hands.
Now of a more even height, Nanaki released the boy and sat between Sephiroth's outstretched legs. He ran his face against Sephiroth's, the continued purr soothing him in a way he could not quite explain. "Your parents are idiots if they truly did not want you," Nanaki murmured. "I may not have known you for long, but even I can tell that you are a kind soul."
Sephiroth tentatively reached up to run his hands through the fur on Nanaki's shoulders. Nanaki responded by reaching a paw over Sephiroth's shoulder and tugging him close. Sephiroth pressed his face into the fire cat's fur, breathing in the scent of something smoky and undeniably wild and not human, with hints of flowers and menthol that he strongly suspected were from Bugenhagen. There were no words to truly describe what Nanaki smelled like, but to the young SOLDIER, it smelled comforting.
"You really think so?" he asked, voice muffled.
Nanaki was quiet, pulling away to give the both of them space, and Sephiroth was secretly dismayed by the distance, though he kept it from expressing itself on his face. "You know, when you introduced yourself, I was… pretty sure I'd hate you from the beginning," the fire cat confessed, his head turning away as he spoke, and the assertion took Sephiroth by surprise. Nonetheless, he remained silent while Nanaki seemed visibly gather his thoughts. "I'd formed… preconceived notions about Shinra, given the kind of people that come here for work and study. Almost all of them despise the company for one reason or another, and I hadn't really considered opinions contrary to what they said. So, when I saw that Shinra airship, I thought that anyone who worked for them would be mean bullies bent on destroying the planet." The fire cat grinned wryly as he gazed at the SOLDIER. "I'm glad I was proven wrong."
Any warmth Sephiroth had felt at Nanaki's words froze over with his last remark, and he turned away shamefacedly. "I kind of am on my way to destroying the planet," he whispered, "at least part of it."
The feline's ears pricked forwards in concern. "How so?"
"I'm on the way to fight against Wutai." He sucked in a shuddery breath. "My orders were, and I quote: 'Kill the rebellious sons of bitches and raze the land if they fight.'" His eyes fell to his gloved hands, and he clenched them into fists, the leather creaking in protest. "Fighting is all I've done for as long as I can remember. And a mistake like earlier—where you had to cover for me—is unacceptable… and would have definitely earned me punishment."
"Punishment?" Nanaki repeated, fur rippling down his back in unease. "Why would they punish you for not being able to see what is behind you? As far as I know, you cannot scent the wind the way I would, nor would your hearing be as good as mine to pick up a griffin's heartbeat or wingbeats coming from behind."
Sephiroth's guilt regarding his apparent shortcoming warred with his curiosity to see how his senses fared against another's.
Curiosity won.
"The professor says I've been enhanced beyond the standard human," he said quietly, "that I'm supposed to be on par with beasts in terms of senses and strength."
Nanaki's ears flicked forwards in equal curiosity. "Really? Is there a way to test that?"
Sephiroth thought back to the various tests that the professor and his assistants had run on him. A lot of them had hurt, and he and no desire to put Nanaki through such pain. "Maybe we can ask Mister Bugenhagen?" he suggested instead.
The feline chuckled. "It always sounds funny to hear Grandfather referred to as 'Mister Bugenhagen.'"
"Then what am I supposed to call him?" the SOLDIER huffed defensively.
Nanaki stood, trotted a little distance away, and stretched. "I don't know," he replied, "maybe drop the 'Mister'?"
Sephiroth stood and brushed dust off his clothing. "But just calling your grandfather 'Bugenhagen' feels wrong," he complained, crinkling his nose in emphasis. "It's like I'm not showing enough respect, or something like that." He softly added, "And I do respect him a lot."
"Grandfather doesn't mind the casualness," the feline assured. "He'd actually welcome it, knowing him." Nanaki scented the air before grimacing for several seconds.
"Why are you making that expression?" Sephiroth asked. He tilted his head back and sniffed the air, deconstructing some of the different scents in the wind. "There's nothing particularly stinky that I can smell."
Nanaki briskly shook his head. "It's a way of refining what I can smell," he explained.
Sephiroth imitated the nose crinkle, complete with his tongue dangling out of his mouth. "It doesn't help," he noted, more than a little put out.
"Humans, to my knowledge, do not possess the same olfactory organs that allow certain animals like myself to further heighten their sense of smell," Nanaki explained with a grin.
The SOLDIER harrumphed. "I guess that makes sense," he acceded petulantly. "I don't particularly like the idea of wrinkling my nose, flashing my teeth, and sticking my tongue out every time I smell something I really need to figure out anyway."
"Hn," the feline agreed, "plus, you look kind of ridiculous when you do that." The soft chuckle and smile eased the sting of offense that Sephiroth felt at the comment. Even so, he huffed once again and lightly ruffled Nanaki's mane in retaliation. Nanaki bore the retribution with good grace, shaking himself out once Sephiroth had finished disheveling his fur.
The two wandered back to the plaza, the silence between them new and awkward, yet comfortable and old. It was a change in their relationship that was unspoken but felt all the same, at least from Sephiroth's perspective. It was as though something had given, had opened up, and it allowed Sephiroth to see Nanaki in a way that he had not been able to before, made him feel… safe… in a way that was not entirely physical despite their rather violent argument. It was—Sephiroth was not sure he possessed the vocabulary to describe it, but there was a mental security that he had never felt before, something fragile that had him wanting to cup it carefully with his hands, to nurture it and watch it grow because he instinctively knew that growth would lead to increased feelings of mental security. It was rather circular in reasoning, but perhaps this was what "friendship" was supposed to feel like?
Sephiroth rolled the term over in his head. The sensation seemed to fit, and the—kinship?—he felt seemed to match the descriptions that he had read. Hope fluttered faintly in his chest, though he did not dare nurse it in the event that he was reading this wrong, but… was it possible that he could be friends with Nanaki? He hugged the idea in his head, wishing with all his might that this might indeed be the start of a friendship.
That evening after dinner, the fire cat deigned to sit much closer to the SOLDIER than he had before, tail draped across the toes of Sephiroth's boots with the fiery tip close enough to provide some warmth, yet far enough to not singe his clothing. Their usual meandering discussion that night lasted well into the early hours of the morning.
Bugenhagen had taken one look the two children's somewhat haggard appearances the next day, chortled, and instructed Sephiroth to call him "Grandfather" the way Nanaki did.
"If Nana's accepted you, then you're family to me too," the elderly man had added upon seeing Sephiroth's puzzled expression. "Nana's kind is long lived and exceedingly wary, so if he's deemed you good enough for him, you are most certainly good enough for me too. I trust my grandson's judgment." The words made the fire cat duck his head in embarrassment even as a metaphorical warmth suffused Sephiroth's chest, eased the ragged hole within him that had yearned for the same thing the other scientists in the Science Department had outside of the labs.
"I'd like that," he admitted shyly before tacking on, "Grandfather."
"Nana," Nanaki murmured, and Sephiroth gazed quizzically at the cat, whom he had already mentally categorized as a friend after last night. "Only those closest to me are allowed to call me by that nickname."
The SOLDIER's brows crinkled in confusion. "Nickname?"
"A term of endearment," Bugenhagen explained, "sometimes a shortening of one's name, sometimes a different word entirely."
Sephiroth rolled various ways of truncating his name in his head. "Seph," he finally said after a moment of thought. He tentatively smiled at his new family, who smiled warmly back at him. "Please, call me Seph."
One week stretched into two as the parts needed for repairs had been hindered by some sort of inventory issue, and Sephiroth was secretly grateful for the delay. It gave him time to truly get to know Nanaki and Bugenhagen in a way he had never had before. He learned things about them that even the other occupants of Cosmo Canyon were not privy to, such as the fact that Bugenhagen had a tendency to sing while doing his dishes, or that Nanaki felt cold if the flame on his tail was snuffed out—he was also unable to relight it on his own and needed an external source of fire. When Sephiroth had curiously asked what the source of fuel for his tail's flame was, the fire cat had answered in complete bafflement, "I honestly have no idea… I've never thought about it before." The question had then given rise to a discussion amongst the family of three over tea that lasted an entire afternoon.
"Nana," Sephiroth began as he gazed contemplatively into the fire later that evening, fingers absently running through the coarser fur of Nanaki's mane, "do you think I am part cat?"
The fire cat gave his friend an odd look. "What makes you think you're part cat?"
"I'm faster than most humans—like you, I am stronger than most humans—also like you," Sephiroth counted off on the fingers of the hand that was not lightly combing Nanaki's mane, "I have better night vision, my eyes are slitted, I have a stronger sense of hearing as well as smell, even if I can't do that weird nose crinkle thing you do…" He paused, shooting the fire cat a look. "Need I continue?"
"But you've no tail, no claws, and you don't walk on all fours," Nanaki countered, flicking his own fire-lit tail in emphasis. "Aside from your pupil shape and coloration, you look like every other human I've met, Seph."
The silver-haired child sighed loudly. "Then what am I if I'm not part cat?" he puzzled out loud. "What else could I be?"
"Human," the feline replied simply. "Just because you are different does not mean you are not human. You look human and smell human to me, and your guts gurgle just like other humans, so why would you think you aren't?"
"Didn't I just list why not?" he retorted.
Nanaki huffed. "The things you didn't list that make you similar to humans is likely more than the list you just made. I'd say that makes you human." Sephiroth watched as the cat curled his tail around himself contemplatively as he stared into the fire. "I've heard the term 'humanity' and 'inhumane' tossed around for as long as I can remember, usually with regards to the way Shinra has conducted themselves, and I've often wondered what counts as 'humane.' Is it how one treats others? Is it the ability to think? To rise above the call of instinct in order to reason?
"I think and I rationalize as well as any human, Seph. But by my very appearance, I am not considered human," he stated as he lowered his head to stare at his paws. "Does that make me little more than a beast, a monster, in the eyes of men? Something to be exterminated simply due to the fact that instinct oftentimes overrides reason in the struggle to survive?"
"You're not a monster, Nana!" Sephiroth vehemently objected as he jumped to his feet, incensed at the very idea that anyone would call Nanaki a monster. Sephiroth had fought monsters before, both in the labs and in the field—had fought and killed them, mindless, bloodthirsty beasts that they were. Nanaki was so far from those creatures that to even consider classifying them in the same category was beyond ridiculous. "I'll—I'll fight anyone who thinks otherwise!"
"Calm down, Seph," Nanaki soothed. "It's been years since anyone has mistaken me for a monster."
Sephiroth huffed as he planted himself on the ground next to his friend with a deep frown, one thigh unknowingly pressing against Nanaki's haunches. The cat reflexively twitched at the contact, fur rippling once before settling. The fiery tail that had been the topic of discussion earlier that day brushed the ground to curl partly around Sephiroth.
"You're so indignant on my behalf," Nanaki observed with a mixture of humor, gratitude, and awe. "Thank you."
The SOLDIER snorted. "Why aren't you angrier at being considered a monster?"
Nanaki tilted his head in lieu of a shrug. "I've had time to grow used to the fact that people will almost always view me as a monster," he admitted with deep resignation. "That's just how it is when you don't appear human."
"It sucks," Sephiroth announced sulkily.
The cat snorted before he said, "Come here."
The SOLDIER raised an inquisitive brow. "Why?"
Nanaki slapped a paw on the ground. "Just… come over here for a second."
Grumbling, the silver-haired boy scooted around Nanaki's hind legs and stilled when he was next to the feline's belly. "Here?"
"Closer," the cat said, and Sephiroth huffed as he scooted so that he was even with where Nanaki's shoulders were. "Better?"
"Better," the fire cat affirmed before adding, "straighten out your legs." Sephiroth obeyed, and with a roll and some squirming, Nanaki twisted so that his back rested against Sephiroth's side and his head laid in the SOLDIER's lap. "Now, we're good," he declared as he rubbed a cheek along Sephiroth's thighs with a rumbling purr that the boy could feel in his torso.
Sephiroth sucked in a breath, beyond astonished that Nanaki trusted his back to him.
Nanaki trusted him.
The SOLDIER knew, from both experience and education that most, if not all, sentient creatures never showed their back to an enemy unless they were incapable of moving to correct such a situation. The fact that Nanaki willingly bared his back to him meant more than he could express, because Sephiroth knew what it was like to fight in life-or-death situations, knowing that weaknesses of any kind would end with him dying. With trembling fingers, he hesitantly brushed his fingertips through the coarser fur near the fire cat's mane.
Something warm and incongruously fuzzy unfurled in his chest, the sensation itchy and tight, as if whatever it was had expanded and pressed up against his ribcage. Sephiroth impulsively wanted to lean over and smother his face against Nanaki's cheek, but the thick SOLDIER belt hindered his ability to do so. He undid the buckles and tugged the entire rig off, shivering as the slight wind grazed the sweat-damp sweater and skin protected by the belt before happily curling over to rub his face against Nanaki's.
Nanaki tensed, surprised by the initial contact, but almost just as instantly relaxed, his purr pausing for the briefest of moments. He twisted his head up, rubbing his bristly chin on the top of Sephiroth's head.
Sephiroth laughed, straightening as he finger-combed his hair. "Nana!" he scolded, "You're messing up my hair!"
The fire cat snorted as he relaxed back into the SOLDIER's lap. "Is it more vanity or discomfort?" he asked, one tawny eye observing his "pillow." "I know that when my fur is ruffled, it's uncomfortable."
"A little of both?" was the answer after a thoughtful pause, though the continuation was a smidge more despondent. "It feels funny if my hair is not combed how I normally have it, and I already get enough weird looks because of my appearance…"
"And I don't?" Nanaki huffed with some humor as his fiery tail flicked, sending shadows skittering and dancing around them.
Abruptly feeling like a complete cad, Sephiroth backpedaled. "Sorry, I didn't mean—" he apologized.
"I know what you meant, Seph," the fire cat reassured, using the SOLDIER's knees to itch the top of his head before settling back across the firm thighs that made up his "pillow." Sephiroth tentatively resumed fingering Nanaki's mane, and the pair settled into a contemplative silence, the both of them taking comfort in the warmth from their shared contact.
Sephiroth awoke the next morning to some very unsatisfactory news. He was leaving tomorrow. The airship's parts had finally arrived two days ago, installation would be finished by the end of the day, and he had been told that they would be en route to Wutai by 0600 hours.
Sephiroth was… "unhappy" would be putting it lightly. He was thoroughly depressed that he would be leaving the beautiful canyonlands that he had, in the two short weeks that he had stayed, come to view as a safe haven—a home of sorts. The SOLDIER sat outside on one of the logs that surrounded the currently dead firepit, soaking in both the early morning sun and the way the burnished light set both the canyon and the cloud-lined horizon aglow. He had considered going through his usual routine, but decided just this once to forego it, choosing instead to take the time to absorb the landscape and everything it had offered to him for the past two weeks.
"Not running through your usual sword dance routines?" Nanaki asked as he padded to Sephiroth's side.
The boy spared the feline a glance before returning his gaze to the horizon. "I'm leaving tomorrow," he said.
The beads woven into Nanaki's headdress and mane tinkled merrily in the light breeze as the two of them sat side by side, staring out at the landscape. "I see," the cat said after a length of time. "Are you ready?"
Sephiroth brushed away strands of silver hair that blew into his face. "I don't—I don't know. I don't want to be."
"I can see that. I wouldn't be ready to kill humans either," Nanaki confessed.
The SOLDIER huffed. "A human on four legs," he joked.
"A cat on two," the feline shot back.
The two shared a sad laugh before falling silent once more. Sephiroth broke it by asking, "Nana, do your tattoos mean anything?" It was a question he had wanted to ask since the first time he had seen the feline. "Also, how did you get the pigment to become absorbed in the hair follicles themselves?"
Nanaki peered down at his left shoulder where a spiky black linear pattern with a circle at its center was inked into his fur. The tattooed part of his fur was black surrounded by his natural rust-colored pelt. "I'm… actually not sure how," he admitted after several minutes of thoughtful frowning. "But as to what they mean, they're proof that I belong to the Akashishi tribe. I received the ones on my forearms when I was 5 human years of age—my baptism, so to speak. All of the members of my tribe have them, though as far as I know, I'm the only one left. The single burgundy stripes under each eye denotes the passage of my first successful solo prey kill—a mark proving that I am capable of providing for my family."
There was pride in Nanaki's voice as he explained the importance of his tattoos, and Sephiroth was happy for his friend. Nanaki's tattoos were symbolic. They meant something to the feline in a way that Sephiroth did not understand, and for a fleeting moment he wished that he, too, had that spiny design splayed across his deltoids. Proof that he was part of something bigger, something better, something worth fighting for. He smiled, and he had to fight hard not to show any of the jealousy and longing that he felt.
But of course, Nanaki was perceptive in ways that Sephiroth was unable to comprehend. He blamed it on his friend being a cat. "You have mixed feelings."
Sephiroth heaved a deep sigh. "Your tattoos are beautiful," he stated as he stared down at his now clasped hands. "I wish I had something that meaningful etched into my skin."
"You have ink on your body that has no meaning?" the fire cat asked, tilting his head curiously. "Why would you want a tattoo that has no meaning?"
"I don't have a tattoo," the SOLDIER replied, "I was told that blemishing my skin in such a fashion would adversely affect my regeneration abilities."
Nanaki huffed. "I'm not sure how true that statement is, but that's merely my own opinion." The feline stood and stretched. "Up for a little monster hunting?" he asked.
Sephiroth grinned. "Let me go get my sword and I'll meet you at the bottom of the stairs." The silver-haired boy made it to the airship and back in record time, and the pair set off for one last round of monster hunting. They returned around midday for lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon and dinner with Bugenhagen. Afterwards, the two went and settled near the fire pit, the way they had done for almost the full two weeks Sephiroth had been stranded in Cosmo Canyon. Sephiroth and Nanaki did not speak, but chose instead to silently soak in each other's presences, as both of them knew the likelihood of them meeting again was rather low.
The SOLDIER studied his friend as the feline stretched himself out on the ground, warring with himself before sliding from his seat on a log down onto the hard ground beside the fire cat. He settled in such a way that he was able to stretch his legs out along the length of Nanaki's body and tugged his gloves off and stowed them by tucking them into his SOLDIER belt. His bare fingers gently combed through the soft fur on his back, and Nanaki rumbled a pleased purr at the touch. "Nana," he whispered at length. The fire cat's ears flicked in his direction to indicate that he was listening, though he continued to laze in the warmth of the flames. Sephiroth continued hesitantly, confiding, "In the time I've been here, the headache I've had my entire life has faded a little, so it hurts less than it did before."
It was true. The constant headache that Sephiroth had lived with all his life had faded a bit during the duration of his stay, and the decrease in pain had been noticeable. His sword forms had flowed more fluidly, the muscles in his neck and back were not quite as stiff as before, and there was a sensation that was almost like sagging relief in his chest at the lessening of that steady, low-grade agony. It allowed him to sleep better, focus better, respond faster. Sephiroth instinctively knew that once he left Cosmo Canyon, the pain would ratchet back up to where it had been before. He was not looking forwards to it.
He leaned forwards and nuzzled his face into Nanaki's side, savoring the softness and warmth of his friend's fur. "Thank you."
"While I personally did not do anything, I'm still glad that you were able to feel better, Seph," Nanaki purred as he rolled himself upright and replied with a rasping lick on the forehead that flipped Sephiroth's fringe up.
"Ewww!" he complained as he wiped off the upper half of his face as best he could. "Nana!"
Nanaki's purr rumbled with laughter. He tilted his head in faux contemplation before ceremonially announcing, "Your new look suits you."
Sephiroth glowered as he flattened his mussed hair to his usual hairstyle. "Somehow I doubt you are telling me the truth," he muttered sulkily, though once he was satisfied his hair was in its proper order, he resumed running his fingers through Nanaki's fur. The fire cat rolled back down to the ground and proceeded to wash his face by swiping his face with a paw and licking it.
After a five-minute grooming session, Nanaki glanced at Sephiroth and asked, "Do you need a grooming as well?"
The silver-haired boy wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I'll pass, thanks," he answered. "One lick from you was more than enough."
Nanaki chuckled and flicked his tail contentedly, the flame on the tip lending a tiny amount of warmth at the small of Sephiroth's back. The two resumed their sad, companionable silence up until they both stirred in order to go to bed. Sephiroth bid the feline a good night and retired to his cabin on the airship for the night.
Morning dawned with a solemn Sephiroth standing just off the airship gangplank, waiting. Nanaki padded up to him just as the sun peeked over the horizon alongside Bugenhagen on his levitating ball and the three greeted each other.
"We take off in five," the SOLDIER said, and it took effort to keep his dismay from expressing itself on his face. His eyes dropped to the ground without his conscious permission, and his heart ached at the fact that he was leaving.
Bugenhagen reached out to clasp a hand on Sephiroth's pauldron-covered shoulder. "Take care of yourself, Seph," he murmured as he then pulled Sephiroth into a tight hug.
Sephiroth's arms came up to gently hug Bugenhagen back, conscious of his immense strength and wary of injuring the elderly man. "I'll be careful, Grandfather," he replied with only the slightest choke in his voice. He released the older man, but Bugenhagen grabbed a hand and pressed something thin, hard and yet soft, into his palm.
"A little something for your continued health," he explained as Sephiroth studied the circle frame with an intricate pattern with beads woven across its interior and its trailing tails of more beads and feathers.
"What is it?" he asked curiously.
Bugenhagen smiled. "It's called a dreamcatcher, and it's usually given to infants. But in your case, I'm giving it to you in the hope that it'll be a good luck charm, so to speak. It is hung over the sleeper's bed and its purpose is to protect the sleeper from evil spirits, bad dreams, and nightmares." Sephiroth turned his gaze up, and Bugenhagen smiled kindly at him. "Where you're going and what you'll be doing will test even the strongest of men, so I hope this dreamcatcher will at least help you rest when you need it."
"Thank you," Sephiroth whispered, and cradled the dreamcatcher carefully in his hands.
"I shall miss watching your daily morning sword dancing," Nanaki commented, tail flame hovering low to the ground behind him.
The silver-haired boy shifted his attention to the feline and answered, "And I'll miss monster hunting with you."
"Sir!" a crewman called from the deck, warning Sephiroth of their imminent departure.
"Copy!" he called back before his eyes returned to the fire cat's. "Thank you for everything, Nana," he murmured quietly as his shoulders curled in ever so slightly and he ducked his head.
"Seph," Nanaki said before rising onto his hind legs and hooking his forelegs on Sephiroth's shoulders. Sephiroth's arms flailed for a moment before he wrapped them around the feline's ribcage and burrowing his face into Nanaki's shoulder. The fire cat rubbed his face against the side of Sephiroth's head. Sephiroth understood after a moment that the cat was scent marking him, as he detected the faintest whiff of pheromones but noticed that it did not have any effect on him. It was the same scent that he had caught on Bugenhagen's clothing. The realization that Nanaki was scent marking him, making a claim that he, in a way, belonged to the feline, warmed him because it meant that Nanaki had acknowledged that Sephiroth was his human, that Sephiroth was part of Nanaki's tribe. "Take care," the fire cat said before he used his paws to brace himself on Sephiroth's shoulders.
Sephiroth's free hand that was not holding the dreamcatcher carded through Nanaki's mane. "I will," he said in reply, and Nanaki playfully licked the tip of the SOLDIER's nose before he backed off enough to regain his balance on all fours. With a final nod to the two of them, Sephiroth turned and marched himself up the gangplank, straightening his spine and pulling his shoulders back. This particular bearing and posture had been trained into him by the professor, who had declared was only befitting of the first successful SOLDIER experiment.
The moment his feet reached the deck, the gangplank was pulled up, and shouts sounded across the airship as captain and crew retracted their ground anchors and the ship's engines, now warn from idling for the past fifteen minutes, roared to life. The ship lifted off the ground, and Sephiroth turned to gaze at Cosmo Canyon, eyes more specifically latched onto the pair that had come to see him off.
As the airship gained in altitude, Bugenhagen and Nanaki became nothing more than two specks in the plaza, and only when Sephiroth was unable to see them anymore did he move away from the deck railing. He made his way back to his cabin and settled himself at the small built-in desk, studying the dreamcatcher after checking to ensure that the Masamune was still ensconced in a corner of the cabin, sheathed. The web inside the brown wooden ring had small pieces of green crystallized mako incorporated into the spidery design, and a larger chunk of mako was threaded through the center. Thin strips of tanned leather were periodically partitioned off with more beads, though this time there was mako, white agate, and black onyx. Each trio of beads was tied off with the griffin down feathers, and at the end of each leather strip, a griffin flight feather was used instead.
Sephiroth dangled it from the single cord opposite the feathered tails and wondered where he would hang it. He eyed the ceiling of the cabin, but it was made of smooth plastic and bare of anything capable of attaching the dreamcatcher to it. After much contemplation, he ended up hanging it at the top of his cabin window, where the dreamcatcher silhouetted itself against its backdrop of fluffy cumulus clouds that whipped by and the crisp blue of the sky beyond.
Pleased with the dreamcatcher's placement, the SOLDIER then focused on his work and made his way through stacks of missives and orders. He had two towers of paper: communication addressed to him that needed to be read, and communication that he had read and returned in whatever form of reply required. Letters that were not worth his time were summarily dumped into the waste bin.
Sephiroth sighed after making a sizable reduction in the addressee pile and a nearly equally sizable buildup in the addressed pile. He stood after stretching his arms over his head, studying the dreamcatcher for a moment before glancing out of his cabin window. The brightness of the sun obscured the stars that he now knew with absolute surety lay beyond the veil of azure, and the knowledge made something within him ache from missing Bugenhagen's kindness and enthusiasm. The thought of the elderly man naturally had him thinking of Nanaki. He wondered how the feline was doing, if he was out monster hunting the way they had been at this time of day.
Meals were taken in the galley alone, as the crew tended to avoid him. Sephiroth was unsure if it was due to his status, his looks, or something else, but the isolation after becoming accustomed to Bugenhagen and Nanaki's easy acceptance was…
Well, it hurt. Not in the physical sense, for Sephiroth had no bodily wounds that needed mending, but on a different sort of level that generated a different sort of pain. Sephiroth reached careful hands up to trace the webbed design, feel the softness of the feathers and the smoothness of the beads. Sephiroth almost meditatively stared at the dreamcatcher, and a knock on his cabin door jarred him out of his woolgathering.
"Enter," he called, spinning on his heel to greet for his guest. A crew member poked his head in to inform him that they would be landing in southern Wutai in half an hour's time. Sephiroth thanked him and readied himself for departure. The stacks of letters were stowed into a small chest that would be delivered to his tent after it was set up, and the dreamcatcher, after much deliberation, was included with the letters inside the chest. Bugenhagen's gift would be safe. The Masamune was unsheathed, its sheath to be taken with the chest to his tent with the rest of his belongings.
Sephiroth alighted in Wutai to a dry, nearly barren and rocky landscape. A small city of tents had been pitched not far from where the airship had landed, and the crew as well as members of the Shinra military were rapidly unloading supplies. A SOLDIER Third greeted him and led him to what would, for the next seven months, be his home in this rugged and hostile environment after a brief tour of the grounds. He found his belongings already inside, and after putting away his sword, Sephiroth took the dreamcatcher out of the chest and hung it over his cot.
The dreamcatcher very conspicuously stood out amidst the backdrop of khaki canvas, white cotton, and utilitarian aluminum. In spite of how prominent it was, the sight of it pleased Sephiroth and he smiled as he gently poked it. The dreamcatcher swayed, the beads on the tails clinking as they knocked against each other.
A man-shaped shadow darkened the entrance to his tent, and the crisp, "Sir!" had Sephiroth silently sighing. Turning, the SOLDIER First acknowledged the man and stepped outside the tent to tend to matters that would no doubt take up the rest of his waking hours.
Sephiroth returned to the tent long after dark, after having received a number of briefings on the current situation and participating in even more strategy meetings. He all but collapsed into his cot, only barely remembering to shuck off his boots, belt, and pauldrons. He twisted so that he lay on his back and smiled at the sight of the dreamcatcher dangling over his head.
Sleep tugged at him, and as Sephiroth closed his eyes, he hoped that he would dream of the ones that had claimed him as family. The mako chips in the dreamcatcher pulsed viridian once when a pained grimace wrinkled Sephiroth's brows, the gentle light easing away the tension. Sephiroth woke up feeling better than he had expected. As he prepared to step outside the tent to begin his mandated crusade against the Wutai, he paused to glance at the dreamcatcher.
"Thank you and good morning, Grandfather, Nana. I hope the both of you are well."
With that, Sephiroth slipped out of his tent. The dreamcatcher's feathers tugged as though there was a breeze for a moment before going still.
Author's Note: Finally had the motivation to write for this fandom despite being a longtime lurker. The idea to write a pre-CC fic involving pre-teen Sephiroth and pre-teen Nanaki kind of hit me out of nowhere, honestly, though reading a few Cloud-hopping-back-in-time fics did help. I've tended to find some rare pairs fun to read and write and decided to humor the niggling "what if…?" my brain was presenting me with, and this was the result. It's a lot more expansive than I had imagined, and there's so much more I could add to this to turn it into a series of oneshots or a multichapter, if I had any inclination to rewrite canon—which I currently do not. I had, almost from the beginning, however, drafted a few of the letters that Sephiroth and Nanaki would send each other once Sephiroth landed in Wutai… whether or not those get published is a different story. As I wrote this in fits and starts and went back and added things in, it probably reads somewhat disjointedly, and for that, I apologize. If both of these kiddos come across as really mood swing-y, I claim the onset of puberty and hormones as my defense. I kid you not, choosing a suffix to turn "Cosmo" into the name of a language made me want to tear my hair out, as I considered Cosmonese, Cosmoian, Cosmoan, Cosman, etc. Sephiroth at this point in time is unable to summon the Masamune because my headcanon insists that that particular ability came about only after he died and fell into the mako reservoir, and something about being pickled in mako with his sword basically rendered the two of them inseparable. The grimacing from smelling thing that Nanaki did is called a Flehmen response, in which the tongue helps to channel scents to a special olfactory organ to analyze scents in more detail than what can be determined through scenting via the nasal passage. So many thanks to a href=" /users/NinthFeather"NinthFeather/a for the encouragement! I hope you enjoyed it.
Completed: 30.11.2022