All But One
A Grudge Unforgotten
Two fingertips were brushed across the smooth cold steel of the katana, tracing over the engravings that were marked into the blade collar just above the hilt. The inscriptions were written in the old Wutai script, an alphabet he had learned during his enrollment in ShinRa's military academy. They read giya haraemi, and though he could decipher the syllables, he had no idea what meanings they possessed. The blade was a curved, singled-edged katana, obviously crafted by the skilled hands of an old Wutai blacksmith. There was a strange familiarity about the sword, though he had never wielded it prior to his current circumstances.
Cloud Strife shifted his gaze from the Wutainese blade, and peered over at the unconscious man who was slumped against the wall. His wrists and ankles were bound by metal shackles, and his slick blonde hair was slightly reddened by small specs of trickling blood. Cloud's mind registered a name for this man. He was Cid Highwind, a mechanical genius and a lover of flight, his speech was often plagued by unnecessary use of profanity, and he was a longtime addict of smoking. Though his memories produced feelings of companionship and friendliness towards the man, Cloud was no longer able to decipher the meanings of such emotions, and Cid Highwind was nothing more than the unconscious form he appeared as. Cloud was waiting for the man to awaken in order to inject the Blindsight materia into him, however, he estimated that he would not regain consciousness for at least another hour or two.
Six hours ago, he had easily overpowered him in a duel; Cid had shown reluctance in fighting him, which in the end had only betrayed him to his own defeat at Cloud's hands.
Cloud returned his attention to the blade, still unsure at why it affected his mind. It was like a form of déjà vu; though he had never used it prior to his battle with Cid Highwind, it felt as if he shared a forgotten history with the strange sword. Giya haraemi, the engravings read. Cloud could only stare down and ponder at the meaning of those syllables.
-xXx-
It was embarrassing.
It was embarrassing to even show himself in this town. He did not desire to return here, and yet, fate tended to show its sense of humor through such circumstances.
"What's the matter?"
Cloud looked up, the blue eyes of an inexperienced youth meeting the sharp silver gaze of a true warrior. Sephiroth…the man he dreamt of becoming…stared at him from across the room. His presence here only worsened the embarrassment—the agony—of having to return home.
"Nothing," Cloud said, returning his gaze to the scenery beyond the window.
"You're a terrible liar, Cloud."
The young grunt turned, staring at the legendary hero that sat across from him. Sephiroth was a man of war, his sword permanently stained by the blood of his victims, and his mind scarred by the screams of the thousands that he had felled, and yet, his eyes emitted such a gentle tranquility, a gaze similar to one that a father would place upon his child.
"Do you want to talk about what's troubling you?" he asked.
Cloud shifted on the bed, his weight dipping down on the soft mattress and spreading tiny wrinkles over the white sheets. "It's nothing," he muttered.
Sephiroth laughed gently, rising to his feet and walking towards the windowsill. "Let me tell you something. When I was about your age, I was educated by my senior officers in the military. They'd tell me to shit out my emotions, and that soldiers are meant to be unfeeling shells that thrive off the death of their enemies. They said that emotions are what caused the war, and that tensions such as hatred, anger and malice are what rise from the human's ability to feel."
Sephiroth placed his hand on the window, his gentle face now bearing a smile. "They were wrong, Cloud. Emotions are what make us human. It's true that our flaws may produce turmoil and suffering, but they also allow us to share friendship and love with one another."
He paused, slightly embarrassed at where his speech was going.
"What I'm trying to say is…"
The general turned, placing his hand on Cloud's shoulder.
"Don't try to hide your emotions from your friends. They're the only ones that may be able to save you."
-xXx-
A knock on the door.
Cloud shifted in his chair, peering over his shoulder. "Come in," he said.
The knob turned, and a short man revealed himself from the entrance, his expression suggesting a sense of worry.
"The boss says he wants to see you," he said in a rasp voice.
Cloud nodded, and the man left, leaving him to his solitude and silence. He slipped the katana back into the wooden scabbard, and placed it on the table. When he was halfway across the room, a thought occurred in his mind, causing him to look down at the unconscious Cid Highwind, then back to the sheathed blade on the table. Perhaps it would be best to take the sword with him.
-xXx-
His gray hair and wrinkled eyes suggested he was well into his years, though his unmatched skills as a martial artist denied the limitations that came with age. He called himself Zangan, a name Cloud had failed to acquaint himself with before, but according to Zack Fair and Sephiroth, he was a renowned fighter, one who has mastered the art of physical combat and designed his own techniques, which he called the Zangan style. He mentioned that he was a wandering teacher, and that he had a total of 128 pupils scattered all across the globe.
Zack ripped a chunk of meat from the chicken leg, chomping viciously like a lion that had been starved for months.
"So gramps," he said, his mouth full, "what brings you to Nibelheim?"
Zangan winced at the word "gramps," but he disregarded the rudeness and continued with his meal. "One of my finest students lives in the town," he said.
Sephiroth glanced up, pausing from his meal. "What is his name? Perhaps Cloud knows him."
"It's a she. Her name is Tifa Lockhart."
Cloud flinched, dropping the vegetables from his fork.
"Ah, she is the one I've hired as our guide to Mt. Nibel. I will look forward to meeting her tomorrow." Sephiroth turned to the still-frozen Cloud. "Do you know her?"
Cloud shook his head. "No…I don't."
Zangan wiped his mouth with a clean napkin, smiling at the thought of his favorite pupil. "Yes, Tifa is an incredible young woman. I anticipate that her skills will exceed that of my own in the future."
"Indeed," Sephiroth said, chewing lightly on some chicken. "Tell me, Zangan, what is the story of that blade you carry on your back?"
Zangan nodded, undoing the straps from the scabbard and holding out the katana gently in front of the First Class SOLDIER. "It was crafted by the third generation of the Kisaragi family in Wutai."
Sephiroth winced at the mention of his former enemies.
"Though it is said to be the finest blade in the land, I have never dared to use it in battle."
"Why is that?"
Zangan brushed his fingers over the engravings at the blade collar.
"In the Wutai tongue, it says 'giya haraemi.'"
"And what the hell does that mean?" Zack asked, still munching wildly at his food.
Zangan stared at the young man with fierce eyes.
"It possesses a meaning that I have spent a decade trying to decipher," he said, returning the blade back to its sheath. "All I will say is that its meaning is best kept secret."
-xXx-
Cloud walked out into the main cockpit of the Shera, which appeared to be already occupied by eight men, most of whom were busy operating the controls. His attention was focused on the two men who stood near the glass shield. Rufus Shinra, the former president of a fallen corporation, and the man known to him only by the name 'Venge' were having a quiet conversation. Venge glanced over and saw that Cloud had arrived.
"Ah, Strife. Shinra and I were discussing matters concerning your friends."
Cloud remained unmoved by the mention of his friends, and merely joined the two men where they stood.
"It seems that our original plans will require some…modification."
Cloud stared back, unsure of what he meant.
"Your friends arrived at the base much sooner than we anticipated. On top of that, they've allied themselves with the Turks, which was quite an unexpected action.
"Have they infiltrated the facility?" Cloud asked, his voice calm and toneless.
"Yes. According to the surveillance footage we received, they have successfully wiped out the entire facility, and removed the Blindsight materia from Barret Wallace."
Cloud was surprised, though his expression showed otherwise.
"What will you do now?" he asked.
Venge tousled his long, dark hair (which, in Cloud's mind, made him bear a resemblance to Vincent Valentine).
"We will have to disregard our previous plans, now that we know that the two groups have teamed up. But the fact that they know about the Blindsight materia poses a threat to any actions we may launch."
Rufus's arm was emitting the same crimson glow as Cloud's.
"But the addition of another member will prove quite helpful for our purposes," Venge said, glancing towards the direction of Cid's cell.
Rufus spoke next. "How will you approach them now that they have decimated our previous plans?"
Venge grinned. "We will assault them directly, of course. I trust that your friends will find themselves unable to retaliate against an attack made by Ms. Lockhart's fiancée and President Shinra."
He began to laugh hysterically, but Rufus and Cloud merely stared at their captor and leader, as they had lost their emotions long ago.
-xXx-
Spinning.
His mind was spinning in all directions, blurring, shaking, screaming. What was happening? What the hell was going on?
Cloud woke to the voice of Zangan, but he could also hear the violent roaring of flames nearby.
"You're alive?!"
Cloud opened his eyes, groaning at the throbbing pain at his shoulder.
"Wh-what's going on?"
"Sephiroth's gone mad! Get up, boy!"
Zangan tugged at his arms, lifting his weight and raising him to his feet. Cloud was still confused at the chaos that blasted out from all directions, but slowly, his memory returned to him.
Sephiroth.
"Where's Sephiroth?!" Cloud yelled, now fully conscious.
"Zack's gone after him to the Mt. Nibel reactor. Listen, my student Tifa's up there as well! Can you go help them?"
Cloud shuddered at the thought of Tifa being cornered by Sephiroth. He nodded, and immediately ran towards the direction of the mountain.
-xXx-
"This sword," Cloud said, holding up the katana. "Where did you get it?"
Venge took a glance at the wooden scabbard, and sipped from his cup of tea.
"Do you like it?"
Cloud stared. His mind was unable to register the meaning of 'liking' something as simple as a sword.
"It belonged to my master," Venge said, placing the cup on the table.
Cloud looked up, his eyes attempting to show surprise.
"You were a student of Zangan?"
Venge nodded.
"Nine years ago, a man named Zangan brought an injured girl to my house in slums of Sector Seven of Midgar. Despite our poverty, my father was an excellent doctor, and he was able to treat the girl's wounds, healing her and returning her to her normal health."
Cloud felt his finger twitch.
Venge merely sipped at his tea, and continued. "The girl's name was Tifa Lockhart. My family helped her build a small shack near our neighborhood, and eventually, she met a man named Barret Wallace and started a bar. Zangan, on the other hand, was grateful to my family, and he took me as a pupil in his teachings of martial arts. I was fascinated."
Another sip.
"Eventually, I had trained enough to become a competent fighter, and my master gave me this blade as a token of his gratitude and acknowledgement. Years after his departure, I found a young woman, being molested by a gang of thugs out in the slums, and I rescued her. I soon fell in love with this woman, and we were engaged to get married."
Cloud twitched at the word, a meaningless memory flashing into his mind.
"That's when you came into my life, Cloud Strife."
Venge shot a glare at him through green eyes, a look of hatred that shone every time their eyes met. Cloud merely stared back, eyes unwavering.
"You and AVALANCHE…you destroyed my home…you killed my wife…" Venge's voice was shaking irritably. "You and the woman I helped save…"
The two men just stared at each other for a while, the room hushed with silence, only to be interrupted by the slow, harsh breathing of Cid Highwind in the corner.
Venge continued. "AVALANCHE and ShinRa both contributed to the destruction of Sector Seven. That is why you are here, Cloud Strife. That is why Rufus Shinra is here. That is why I've robbed you of your emotions."
He paused, sipping again at the cup.
"And that is why you will kill Tifa Lockhart."
-xXx-
Was this not the man who had recently lectured him about human emotions?
Cloud grimaced as the man he once knew as a hero groaned loudly at the large blade that had pierced through his back. Sephiroth had been wounded.
"My family…" Cloud rasped. "My home…my friends…"
He thrust the sword in further, causing the madman to wince in pain.
"How dare you take them away from me!"
Sephiroth emitted a harsh laugh, still clutching at his bleeding abdomen.
"So you finally decide to show some emotion," he said, grinning.
Cloud glared.
He was tempted to jab the sword all the way through, but he knew Sephiroth was as good as dead. Right now, the only thought on his mind was going back to the injured Tifa.
He had promised to protect her.
-xXx-
"Do you know what the engravings say, Cloud Strife?" Venge asked, twirling the teacup with his fingers.
"I know what they say. I know not what they mean."
The dark-haired man chuckled, amused at Cloud's inability to express anger at the truths he had shared with him.
"Giya haraemi," he said, still wearing a grin. "It means…a grudge unforgotten."