CHAPTER 20
Finally! Writers block for this chapter has been defeated, lol.
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CHAPTER 20
Something was going on.
There was a tension in the air, a feeling of growing anticipation and excitement coming from the people that were being passed by, individuals who all seemed to stop and stare for longer, the whispered comments that they spoke behind cupped hands being made a little louder.
Cloud could feel a strange atmosphere building around him on his journeys to and from the general's place of work. He was getting use to the stares and barbed annotations from the people that they passed every day, but now it seemed to appear that the stares being made, and the whispers being uttered, were being directed at the tall silver haired man that walked tall and proud and with indifference on his face, and not at the pretty young blond boy that trotted along so submissively by his side.
Straining to catch snippets of the hushed conversations as he and the general continued on their way, his spiky haired head sometimes swinging back to try to keep the flow of words audible, Cloud tried to make sense of the words he heard.
Rematch...Spar...Unrivalled...
If the general heard these quiet murmurings, then he never made any mention of them. His face always stayed passively towards the front, his features seemingly frozen, never looking to the left nor the right.
Even entering the long computer room on route to Sephiroth's office, Cloud noticed the difference in the men there, and their attitude towards the man. They all but bowed and stepped back out of his way, smiles lifting their normally straight mouths upwards into curving welcoming arches. And again Cloud would hear the low buzz of animated murmurings as the general walked on by nonchalantly and without comment, passing silently into his own private work area.
As the next few days progressed, and the hum of excitement appeared to grow, Cloud felt more and more confused as some of the gawking people became braver, and started blatantly coming up to the general, patting him on the back in friendly approach and offering words of support.
"You know I'll be rooting for you, don't you General?"
"Will you be giving any of the young ones a fighting chance this year, sir?"
"I lost a lot of money last time Sephiroth. I know who I'll be laying my coins on this time. You...."
The silver haired man seemed to take each and every greeting with aloofness. He would simply shrug off the hands that were laid on him and give a non committal snort, treating the attention lavished on him with disdain before proceeding to his destination, not even looking to see if his prisoner followed in his wake, so confident was he that Cloud would be following meekly.
Cloud was tempted to ask him what was going on. There was every possibility that the man would tell him. But Cloud didn't want to start a conversation with his captor. It was as much as he could bear simply being in the same room as the general, his captor, his tormentor. He certainly didn't want it to seem as if he were wishing to strike up a friendly banter with him.
And so Cloud kept his burning questions to himself, and continued trying to catch the words of the gossip mongers that they passed by on their daily walks, trying to use the small snatches of information that he gathered from the whispering groups to fit together the pieces of the puzzle.
He was no closer to understanding anything two days later, when luckily for him, the same young man who'd had the unfortunate incident with the dirty glass in Sephiroths office was also in the cafeteria area at the same time that Cloud had been sent for fresh water.
The two of them had bumped into each other several times over the last few weeks, and during the brief time that it took them to fill their pitchers they had conversed, leading Cloud to learn that the mans name was Peters, and that he was the fourth son of a fourth son. Not that Cloud really cared about knowing that Peter's favourite colour was yellow, or that the man liked to play chess in his spare time. Cloud was just happy to have someone to talk to, a friendly face in a hostile world of strangers.
"Who are you putting your money on?" Peters asked now, as Cloud went about selecting his choice of glass, placing it on a tray before picking up a pitcher and proceeding towards the small fridge that contained the chilled water for the general.
"Huh?"
"I bet you'll be rooting for your master, like any dutiful little slave should," Peters continued. "Me, I'm going to be banking on Tonkin's winning this time round. He was really close last year, lost by just a hair's breath. I've heard that he's worked hard on improving himself for this year's event. He's determined to beat the general, and I for one think that he will do it this time, too."
"I have no ideal what the fuck you're talking about," Cloud admitted, his voice abrupt, a little irked at the 'dutiful slave' comment. He kept his annoyed blue eyes fixed firmly on the clear liquid that poured from the dispenser.
Peters came to stand behind Cloud, blocking him in, his warm breath tickling the small hairs on the back of Clouds neck, watching silently as the jug slowly filled.
"Excuse me," Cloud said, shutting off the small tap and turning to face Peters, thrusting the full pitcher out a little with the clear intention of tipping the wet contents over the man if he refused to budge.
Holding his stance for only a moment longer, Peters smiled before stepping to one side and allowing Cloud to pass across to the large central table, continuing to watch as the blond boy carefully arranged his chosen items upon the tray for balance.
"You want to have a little side wager with me on the outcome?" Peters asked, moving closer to Cloud once again, but making sure not to touch him.
Cloud knew he should have been making his way back with the water, but he suddenly realised that here was a chance to find out exactly what was going on, what all the hushed whispers and excited glances were about. A few more minutes waiting for his drink wasn't going to kill the general, Cloud reasoned to himself.
"Make a wager on the outcome of what, exactly?" he asked, his fingers seemingly playing idly with the edges of the tray, trying to cover his nervousness at being so close to getting answers.
"The outcome of the sparring contest... At the end of the Conglomerate Ball," Peters replied, looking at Cloud quizzically. "Jeez, you really don't have a clue what I'm talking about, do you?" he exclaimed, seeing the blank expression on Clouds face at what he had just been told.
"I'm not from these parts, or hadn't you noticed?" Cloud retorted flippantly, his voice hard and clipped.
"Yeah but still, I thought you would at least have heard about the annual ball, and how every graduate is invited to attend," Peters remarked, clearly amazed at the blondes ignorance of what was, to him, a major event.
Cloud bit down on his bottom lip to stop the retort that was on the tip of his tongue from being mouthed. He couldn't afford to affront Peters, not this close to his goal. Instead, he forced his lips into a smile, and made sure his voice was warm when he spoke.
"So, what happens at this...ball?" he asked.
"There is feasting and dancing, prize giving and sponsorships. And at the end of the evening, fun trials are held to test the fitness and skill levels of whoever chooses to enter," Peters began, leaning back easily against the table behind him, an index finger reaching towards Cloud, letting a fingernail rub gently along the skin of the boys hand. Cloud held himself fast, fearful of pulling his arm away lest the man stop talking.
"General Sephiroth, your master, has been unbeaten for the last three years. Ever since entering, in fact. A lot of people think he's going to win again this year, but like I said, Tonkins is a pretty strong candidate to defeat him. He almost won last year, and has been working really hard on improving himself for this year's trial. I don't think the general is going to find it such a walk over this time."
"So, you really think the general can be beaten?" Cloud asked in a hushed whisper, hardly daring to let his hopes build. If someone were to beat the silver haired man in combat, wouldn't that mean he would be disgraced, possibly demoted? And if that happened, wouldn't Cloud then be taken from him and treated as the prisoner he really was, and not this man's pet? He would finally be able to stand trial, speak for himself, to do his sentence and at length achieve freedom. "You really think this person can win?"
Peters tapped the end of his nose with one finger and gave Cloud a wink, a grin spreading over his face. "Trust me," he said. "I'm putting all my saving's on him, that's how certain I am, that Tonkin's will win."
The thought of Sephiroths possible impending defeat made Clouds heart soar, and the buds of a new hope began to bloom in his heart. Maybe all was not lost, after all. Maybe there was a way out of this horrible situation he found himself in.
He couldn't help the small smile of anticipation creasing his lips. For the first time in ages he actually had something to look forward to, something to focus his escape upon.
"You know, you actually look prettier when you smile like that," Peters remarked, closing the gap between him and the blond boy,
The smile that Cloud had been wearing was wiped off in an instant, his bright outlook being masked again by a scowl crossing his features.
Picking up the tray with its contents for the general, Cloud walked out of the room.