Disclaimer: I do not own FFVII or any of the characters herein and am making no money from altering or expounding on the plot.
Sephiroth didn't know what had possessed him to finish the paperwork he'd so resolutely handed over to Genesis.
Gazing at the flowing, mahogany grain of his desk, he decided it must have been debilitating hunger. He hadn't finished dinner and the trek down to the slums had been long and full of Loveless. While his sometimes seemingly involuntary recitations of antiquated poetry had ceased somewhat; Genesis was still prone to break into verse when he was bored. It wasn't so much a nuisance as it was a distraction. SOLDIER hearing made it difficult to drown out background noise, no matter how useful it might be in the field. Angeal often lamented the fact that while mako enhancements were exciting and useful, there was no way to turn them off. Sephiroth couldn't remember a time when he didn't seem to have superior faculties to everyone else, but he was still inclined to agree. During a field-training mission with a bunch of initiates, he'd been forced to confront a single cadet who sang rather too loudly in the communal showers. It was-he had found-incredibly difficult to explain to someone that vocalizations in a tiled space made his brain feel like it was exploding without sounding like he was accusing the man of being a bad singer.
Sephiroth's comm beeped, reminding him of his monthly appointment with Hojo, and he rose to his feet with a barely suppressed sigh. Wondering about his sudden act of irrevocable charity wasn't getting him anywhere. He'd see Genesis by midday and by then he'd have had time to compile a stack of paperwork twice as large to give to his poetically-minded comrade and they'd be back on even footing.
Lailah barely spared him more than a simpering smile upon his entry into her office space and he was glad for it. Lazard had evidently sent most of the assisting staff an abnormally large amount of paperwork regarding tax returns that was so convoluted even Angeal couldn't figure it out. Most of the 'good mornings' he'd received so far had been mournful and resigned. Passing what appeared to be a paper-laden apprentice, Sephiroth took a sharp right to the elevator; selecting the floor to Science Division and stepping back. Most of HQ was a rather convoluted spiral of offices and apartments that started from the President's floor and descended according to rank before spreading out like a giant skirt in all directions until it reached the civilian section of the city. There was little to no decoration on the walls of business and science-related floors; though it was rumored the Turk division was considered the liveliest of the lot.
SOLDIER barracks were commonly stationed at the very base of the main structure; with barracks and bunks leading inwards and training, simulation, and rank-up arenas to the left and right. Seconds supervised newly initiated Thirds a floor above, and Firsts were given accommodation directly below-or, in Sephiroth's case, on-the President's floor. High-ranking officers sometimes chose to purchase homes outside of Shinra facilities, but such instances were rare and the few that did so were retired or very close to retiring. The bulk of the company's employee count were office grunts who could figure numbers and statements well but didn't ask questions. These people did go home in the evening; and it was always strange to wander those subdivisions late at night. Everything about Shinra was chrome and steel; with arcing...forbidding pathways and the blue-green hiss of continuously processed mako. Sephiroth's earliest memories were imbued with the scent of new plastic, sterilized metal, antiseptic and the almost adhesive-like aroma of new carpet... the few calming recollections he possessed were of looking out through glass onto the maze of sparkling pipes and red banners from a great height.
It was industrial, impersonal and distant...but it was still home.
The elevator doors slid open on oiled hinges, and Sephiroth hesitated only a fraction of a second before stepping inside. The Science Department was below ground, as Hojo insisted many of his subjects were sensitive to sunlight, even through layers of impermeable metal. Sephiroth knew it was more due to the fact that Hojo participated in experiments of unspeakable nature and didn't want to get caught in the public eye. All Shinra-approved...of course; simply not discussed. The lift slowed to a halt and he gripped the leather-clad inside of his right palm for a moment; letting it snap back before he stepped out and strode down the hall. Here, the lighting was dim but not unpleasant; the white-fabric walls reflecting a bluish-ivory hue from circular, inlaid wall installments. To anyone without mako enhancements they would have been just on the side of inconveniently dim, but for a SOLDIER they were just right. Most of the labs were similarly lit behind large glass panels adorned in white lettering. Screens could be pulled for when visual ambience needed to be adjusted per individual space; and each scientist had a shielded workstation with the latest in scientific technology. The cloth-laden walls in the halls hid several layers of sound-resistant foam; one of the few things Sephiroth cherished about coming back. It was blessedly quiet.
Hollander was responsible for most of what Hojo would call 'unecessary comforts.' He was conspicuously careful about making sure his patients were well cared for; especially those who had just come out of mako treatment. His offices and labs were to the left...Sephiroth took a right. As far as he knew, he was the only SOLDIER who Hojo would willingly see, though he knew it was more out of possessiveness than anything. Shinra's Head Scientist was more concerned with developing new methods of making SOLDIERS stronger, more agile and less easy to tire. Sephiroth had been the subject of approximately thirty-six of these experiments that he knew of and very few were successful. The mortality rate of his other test subjects was rumored to be at 99% with the rest becoming unspeakable versions of themselves that were eventually released into the Wastes once tissue samples were taken and they were marked as 'deceased.'
'Welcome, Sephiroth.'
Hojo's section of the lab was decidedly less attractive, facial recognition identification system aside. It was accessed through a set of sliding glass doors similar to that of the main lab, but that was where the similarities tapered off. Hojo's labs were devoid of sound-proofing and instead made use of easy-to-sanitize surfaces like chrome and steel. The lab techs still had their individualized booths but they were not domed and some of the equipment was in testing phase and not legalized for release. At the rear of the lab was a set of double doors that swung open onto two open-floor areas; one medical and one operative, both brightly lit. There were two standard-size mako tanks in the corner; one filled with raw, unprocessed mako and the other with processed. Beyond this was a massive file room that was nearly floor-to-ceiling with Hojo's research, all under lock and key. Furthermore was a set of steel blast doors that could only be opened by Hojo and a few techs. Sephiroth knew that behind them was a series of massive holding cells for whatever experiment the good doctor was working on at the time. One of those cells had been his old room. He'd never seen any of Hojo's experiments, but he often heard them...
None of the techs paid him any mind as he strode through the entryway, not pausing to look at what they were working on. He had found on several occasions that ignorance of Hojo's activities was sometimes best. The man in question was waiting impatiently by the medical table in the subsequent room; his gaze distracted and out of focus. Sephiroth allowed himself a minimal iota of relaxation. If Hojo's mind was on something else, it meant he'd likely not keep him for long.
"You know the drill" was the irritated bark as the screen was pulled around them; two circular examination lamps were brought close and turned to maximum.
Settling crosswise on the table, Sephiroth unbuckled his vambraces and undressed from the waist up without replying; his actions tempered and methodical. He had removing his clothes down to a numbered science; and in situations like this...it kept him sane. Here under these lights he felt corporeal and unstable; as if his skin was too pale and his eyes too large. The hairs on his body rose involuntarily...something he'd never been able to control...something which gave Hojo an immense pleasure in mocking him over. The buzz of the intense heat and electricity was overwhelming and unpleasantly nostalgic. He held himself perfectly still as the otoscope was directed into his ears, refusing to blink or encourage any kind of reprimand. Next Hojo briefly tested his reflexes before looking into his mouth and checking the elasticity of his dermis. General vitals were next, along with a routine blood test and hair samples. It wasn't until the scientist moved to his eyes that he paused and frowned, putting his penlight down, throwing back the privacy screen, and crossing the room to grab what Sephiroth knew were his charts.
"Any nausea or dizziness?" he snapped, pushing his glasses up.
Startled at the direct query, Sephiroth cleared his throat.
"No" he said quietly.
"Paranoia? Vomiting? Delusions?"
"No."
"Any impulsive or irrational behavior?"
Sephiroth hesitated and Hojo's eyes narrowed at him over the top of his clipboard.
"...No."
The answering scoff plunged his hopes of being dismissed quickly into complete and utter disrepair. Hojo strode back to the table and palmed a blood sample before disappearing into the forefront of the lab. Sephiroth took the time he had alone to try and assess what the doctor could possibly have seen in his eyes, but came up with nothing. He looked in the mirror very rarely and any non-drastic physical changes would have escaped his notice. He was meticulous...but he wasn't vain. It was some time before Hojo returned, and by then Sephiroth was almost frantic. Thoughts of being thrown back into his cell had crossed his mind over and over, along with being given a lethal injection and tossed into the Wastes. Worse, his cerebral faculties whispered of disembowelment 'for the sake of science'...or being forced to spend months in a tub of unprocessed mako while his limbs slowly boiled away. When the lab doors swung open he flinched and crossed his arms. Hojo seemed, if possible, even more bored and possibly more irritated.
"You're going through a belated hormonal anomaly" he snapped.
Sephiroth blinked.
"Meaning…"
"Meaning your endocrine glands are working overtime to produce signaling molecules. It's not an externally reaching factor, which essentially means it falls under puberty."
"But I've already been through that, haven't I?" Sephiroth demanded.
Hojo raised an eyebrow.
"Do you remember anything like this?"
He thought hard and couldn't come up with anything that would back up his point.
"...No."
"Then you haven't been through it." Hojo scowled and pushed up his glasses again. "I don't think I need to go over this with you again, but I will, for disclosure clauses. You are not to engage in intercourse with anyone, regardless of sex, no matter how strong your urges are. If you feel the need to engage in inter-species coitus you will report back here and be administered a sedative until such urges pass-"
"-I don't understand why I'm differen-"
"-Because Shinra owns you, boy!" Hojo roared, finally losing his temper. "Your mother left you here to be molded into what you are today and I will not have you jeopardizing yourself for the sake of ifucking/i something or being fucked!" The hand that slammed down onto the countertop full of metal surgical equipment was expected, but he jumped anyway and hated himself for it. "Now, you know what's expected of you, are you going to do it?!"
Sephiroth only managed to not curl his fingers into fists by letting them dig into his thighs.
"Yes" he muttered.
"Yes who?"
"Yes sir" he replied through gritted teeth.
"Good" a needle bearing enough mako to kill anyone but him was jabbed into his neck. "You know better than to ask questions, now get out of my lab."
It was only through years of disciplined training that Sephiroth didn't stagger out of every meeting with Hojo like a beaten dog. That being said, he did walk quite a bit faster than normal, earning him several curious glances from the lab techs. By the time he'd reached the elevator he was feeling somewhat more composed, but not by much. The blue lights that were sometimes soothing were now only a reminder of why he didn't come to this floor unless he absolutely had to. Footsteps ahead gave him pause, and he cursed inwardly as a shock of bright red hair cavorted violently towards the lift before pausing when it caught sight of him. He sighed inwardly as Genesis waved once before popping off an exaggerated salute and standing at attention. Sephiroth was almost in a bad enough mood to make him stay that way, but relented as he saw that his friend's grin was entirely in jest and not jealousy.
"At ease, Commander" he muttered.
"Hojo in his usual loving mood I see" was the snide response.
"It's protocol" Sephiroth snapped as they stepped into the lift.
He looked on impassively as Genesis eyed him up and down.
"Mhmm, that's why your eyes look like you've stuffed yottawatts behind them, right?" When Sephiroth didn't reply, he 'tsked' and shook his head. "Asking questions?"
He almost flushed.
"It was a fair question" he replied tonelessly.
"Come back to mine and we'll have a Tonberry." Genesis eyed him skeptically. "I'll have a Tonberry and you can have ten" he corrected himself. The elevator reached Residential and they were accosted by several harried-looking shareholders who appeared to be in the middle of an argument. None of them seemed to notice they were in the presence of the General and Commander, and both men quietly slid into the hallway outside without another word. "C'mon."
Residential was a little cheerier than the rest of HQ; if you called looking out onto what would have been a seemingly endless drop through spotless glass 'cheery.' First Class quarters hugged the opposite wall at staggered intervals; nondescript in stainless steel and glittering placards displaying name plates. Genesis' quarters did not have a placard and though the man insisted it was to remain 'mysterious' Sephiroth knew it was for privacy. He'd never once seen the man bring a bed partner back to his quarters and he was somewhat paranoid about who saw him come and go. That being said, the inside of his living space was an entirely different story. Watching as the redhead swiped his keycard, Sephiroth forced himself not to flinch as he was accosted by a vibrant sea of scarlet and ivory. Most of Genesis' appliances were red, his counter space an irritatingly cohesive white. The same emergency-oriented colors were staggered about the living space in various intervals.
Unlike Sephiroth's quarters, his friend's space was one large room; with the bed hidden by a hanging curtain...the bathroom being the only separate facility. Genesis had once confessed that his loft-like living space was somewhat of an art project. Anyone who knew the Commander beyond a professional basis could see why. Shina's red-headed 1st had an eye for savoir, despite being as deadly as any high-ranking officer. Nobody could take away the fact that there was no SOLDIER more intelligent or educated than Genesis save for Sephiroth. As quick as he was to lose his temper, he was also brilliant in the field, especially considering raising morale.
Settling himself on a wall-clinging divan that might as well have been screaming; Sephiroth resigned himself to at least an hour of conversation. Absentmindedly, he began to worry the center of his leather-clad palm as Genesis smashed glasses together in the kitchen. He had no idea what Hojo's diagnosis entailed. Contrary to what the scientist appeared to believe, he didn't feel the urge to lay physical claim to anything or anyone. He knew-of course-where everything was supposed to go in ways of anatomy. Despite his lack of experience in physical intimacy, he had a vast plethora of knowledge when it came to human biology. No, whatever the man had discerned, it was likely of little to no effect. Moreover, Sephiroth was nearly thirty; he was too old to go through any type of hormonal phenomena...let alone puberty.
"Stop that."
A pale, long-fingered hand grasped his gloved one firmly; halting Sephiroth's steadily accelerating snapping motion. The man in question blinked and exhaled wearily. Genesis released him, his expression half-smiling... nearly sympathetic. Turning, he plucked two shots of pale amber liquid from a tray and passed one over.
"I know your stipend could cover about a thousand of those leather finger traps, but you really need a better mako recovery mechanism."
"Apologies" Sephiroth muttered, raising the glass to his lips.
Genesis clucked his tongue mournfully as he flopped into an armchair opposite him.
"I'm not asking for an apology" he said breezily, waving his free hand through the air. There was silence for perhaps fifteen minutes as they each wallowed in their individual misery.
"iMy friend, the Fates are cruel,/i but Shinra can be far crueler" Genesis sighed. He smirked and tilted his head. "Hojo's complaining because my sperm count is low" a derisive snort followed this bizarre declaration. "He says I've got to 'stop being a philanderer or I'll never reproduce.' Like I'm ever going to want kids, give me a break!"
"At least you're not going through puberty" Sephiroth muttered, his tongue loosened as it hopelessly chased a fifth glass of sense and reasoning into his stomach.
Genesis paused, midway through reaching for the decanter, his eyes two giant orbs of delighted shock. The General scrambled for some explanatory anecdote, but he was too drunk to be clever and too sober to pass it off as being drunk. He pretended not to notice as his comrade's expression changed from surprise to smugness.
"I knew it" he said with a sort of savage satisfaction. "I knew there was something."
Sephiroth grimaced and decided it was probably best he wasn't entirely sober for the aftermath.
"I'm not following you" he said drily.
"Angeal said the reason you never picked up someone was because you were 'married to your job' or whatever but I knew there was more." He leaned back with the air of someone who'd figured out the mysteries of the universe. "Makes sense now. You can't get laid if your balls haven't dropped."
Sephiroth very nearly choked on his drink. As it was, he settled on passing it off as an explosive cough.
"Genesis" he said dourly. "I have been capable of... copulation since the age of thirteen."
The redhead frowned.
"Well I don't get what you're going through now then" he groused.
"The Professor did not deign to elaborate" Sephiroth said bitterly. "And I received a higher dosage of mako for asking why I am different."
Sapphire eyes softened somewhat at his declaration, continuing on to look remorseful.
"Seph...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed it."
"You didn't ask, I told you" he said shortly.
Genesis sighed and stood, snatching Sephiroth's glass away before he could refill it again.
"Ten's enough" he said firmly. "And I could have handled my reaction a lot better."
The silver-haired man opened his mouth to protest before thinking better of it. Picking at a loose thread in the divan, he couldn't help but wonder if all his comrades thought him so woefully incompetent.
"I don't know who my father was" he said, sensing Genesis' return to the room. "Hojo says my mother was called 'Jenova', and that she died giving birth to me." He didn't look at his friend as he continued. "I...know that I could have anyone I wanted, practically...but I simply don't see the point in sleeping with someone you won't commit to. I'm not judging you for it" he said quickly, glancing up and away. "I just...I know it's not the road I desire. I want someone I can cherish."
There was silence between them again, and Sephiroth resigned himself to derision and belittlement until the end of his days.
"You didn't have to tell me that" Genesis said quietly, sinking down beside him.
The silver-haired man laughed bitterly.
"Who else would I tell? Angeal would pity me, Hojo would laugh at me, my men would lose respect in me. The public would make my 'virginity' a spectacle…"
"Why am I any different?"
"You've never pretended to like me" he muttered. "You've never put me on a pedestal and worshipped the ground at my feet. You treat me like I'm human."
Genesis fell backwards onto the settee and covered his eyes with one arm.
"...I used to idolize you, when I was younger."
"I don't care about then" Sephiroth said wearily, speaking over his shoulder. "Only now matters."
Yet again, a wordless timespace yawned between them. The aquamarine chronometer ticked on in its place atop a coffee table….1700, 1800, 2200. A light snore beside him told Sephiroth Genesis had fallen asleep. It was only when the room started to spin that he made to get up to leave, only to have a hand around his vambraces stop him.
My friend" Genesis garbled. "Why do you fly away?"
"...I didn't want to impose" Sephiroth replied quietly.
"Stay" was the muttered reply. He hesitated for a moment before sinking back down, grudgingly acknowledging that it was probably best he did stay rather than make a spectacle of himself in the halls. Only when he was very nearly driven to the the brink of unconscious did Genesis speak again. "You know...whoever you pick…"
"... they're going to be so damn lucky."
A/N: One thing that's been bothering me; the language. I'm really, really used to writing in a certain 'mood', and it's hard for me to switch over to more modern veins. Sometimes I feel like I'm not characterizing right...and that I'm altering the portrayals of said characters into something unrelatable or unrecognizable. If anyone has any tips or advice regarding this, it would be really greatly appreciated.
In regards to the plot: I feel like it's realistic to assume that Sephiroth's biology could vastly differ from that of his comrades. In truth, I know very little about his childhood, if he even had one, as some forums are prone to insist that he went through an accelerated growth period from 'birth' to the timeline of events in FFVII.
Thanks for reading!
R&R