Rating has as of this chapter gone up to T for crude language and even cruder insinuations. I have introduced an unpleasant person :( And because I can't keep from swearing in my notes XD
I forgot to give Irwin a surname last chapter. It's Carman... uh, which you'll notice in the first line XD
Cloud had no doubt in his mind that Irwin Carman would cause trouble for him, but when he came back to his dorm, Carman offered no more than a sneer and a comment about 'lesser beings' before the oaf went in search of his friends. He spent the time until dinner listening to most of the rest of his new room mates chat on about what they thought the classes would be like ("Probably hard, but I'm sure I can handle it."), about the latest development in the Wutai war ("General Sephiroth is the coolest, like, ever!" not from Martin but from the mousey boy from Mideel) and the despairing lack of female personnel ("I might be tempted to get myself a few scrapes if the only girls around are the nurses") with a brief excursion for lunch.
Cloud's first meal in the army wasn't what he would call impressive but having been living in very sparse rations for a week, Cloud devoured the sloppy sandwich with gusto, ignoring the looks he got from the other boys who were about halfway through theirs and still talking about inane things when he began picking crumbs.
Dinner was much the same, except that the lady at the counter had given him a once over before placing a few more potatoes on his plate. He noted with humour that she did the same to Martin, despite his grimace of distaste.
The next day they would start their classes, but despite the excitement, unfamiliar surroundings and, more significantly, sleeping arrangements Cloud slept like a stone, probably because he hadn't closed an eye the night before.
The excitement turned out to be less than productive the next day. They started the day with warm-ups and callisthenics and the repetitiveness was mind-numbing to say the least. Even those, who had started out bouncy, was simply doing their best to keep up with the drill sergeant's count. Their first lesson in martial arts and hand-to-hand combat wasn't much more thrilling and despite the fact that they actually got their hands on weapons in the first firearms practise class, they were set to dismantle and put it together again for the entirety of the fifty minutes that lesson took. Apparently they weren't allowed target practise until they could dismantle and re-assemble what they were aiming with in a timely manner. Which with the simple gun they were given was all of one minute.
Cloud found that once he knew what to do, the movement came relatively easy. When the officer saw that he could do it fast enough, however, he was simply asked to do it again "until he could repeat it in his sleep and on field rations," which apparently meant that he was starving.
He tried not to think of the implications of that.
The morning classes had also been an interesting lesson in profane language, and it wasn't so much that Cloud was against people expression how they felt, words were just words after all, and he felt he had matured somewhat at least since he threw that stone after Dan, but nevertheless it was something of a shock for the small village boy, who had never had any reason for swearing. Shocking and just a bit annoying when he was the subject. More than a bit annoying. It seemed like instructors could find fault with anything.
Once again he ate in silence and the rest of his classmates were unusually silent as well, all of them tired after the exhausting exercises they had performed all through morning. The mousey, unassuming boy from Mideel looked ready to fall asleep halfway through and Carman, who had relocated to another table with his two friends, were barely even grumbling about how it was useless to learn to disassemble and re-assemble a gun, "'cause SOLDIER Firsts only used swords anyway". Martin snidely remarked that considering the drop-out rate for the SOLDIER program ShinRa probably just wanted to ensure that those entering infantry already knew what they were doing. Cloud nodded and finished the last crumbs on his plate.
The academic classes of the afternoon was a disaster. Not only was he tired, but Cloud found that basic reading skills and mathematics weren't anywhere near adequate for the level they started at. His history teacher had seen the weak link immediately and continued to prove to everyone how little he knew. About everything, apparently.
It was doubly frustrating because Cloud had felt well-read and rather smart compared to his peers back in the village. He had been the only one in his age group, who periodically read the news paper (Wel had been so kind to point that out when he had seen Cloud sitting outside one summer morning with news paper in one hand and a bun for breakfast in the other) and he had always been better in the classes held in Nibelheim than the others. He had honestly expected to do rather well.
The abuse only let up when Carman (and Cloud felt rather annoyed for being grateful for the idiot) had none-too-discreetly commented that history was useless. That had sent the teacher into a fit, and they had all gotten a long lecture about how SOLDIERs represented ShinRa in a way that no other military personnel did, since the Turks were generally covert and no one expected foot-sluggers to do more than follow orders. SOLDIERs were the public face of ShinRa's army and as such they were required to be able to carry a conversation with more commentary than mere grunts.
Which of course also explained why SOLDIERs needed an additional two academic courses on top of the three compulsory ones.
Materia & summons and tactics & military strategy were both much easier. Not because the subjects as such were easier, but because everyone was mostly ignorant. It was a relief that he didn't have to catch up in these subjects at least, because the history teacher had given him two extra essays to be completed in a week on top of the assignments to be done for Wednesday when they had the subject again (and incidentally would get more homework). It was bad enough that they were piling homework on the cadets as though they didn't expect them to have anything else to do.
Cloud spent his time after dinner in the library with Martin and Patrick, who didn't share their classes but came along with his own homework anyway. He was grateful for their company however Cloud didn't relish asking for assistance and he enjoyed the thought of being a burden even less.
That didn't change the fact that he wanted to punch Martin when he started laughing at how education was regarded in small mountain villages.
The next day was even worse.
They were all sore from the strenuous activities they had been forced through the day before, and the callisthenics at the beginning of day were hell, the instructor of their combat class had no sympathy for their sorry exhausted states and wincing with almost every movement made it awkward to say the least to efficiently disassemble and re-assemble a gun.
As it turned out, he was just, if not more so, behind in his chosen subjects that afternoon than in history. Cloud had never so much as been introduced to the concept of physics in Nibelheim and so his teacher in mechanical engineering gave him two weeks to learn about the concept of electricity to his satisfaction. Which meant that he had to know everything there was to know. At least he hadn't delighted in Cloud's humiliation, just completely ignored him once he had figured that the diminutive blonde wouldn't be able to answer anything.
Biology had been slightly better as the teacher had merely been testing their general knowledge, but he had nevertheless been dragged aside by the teacher and told in no uncertain tones that eventually they would start on biochemistry and if he knew nothing about chemistry, he would find himself inexorably lost.
It turned into another late night at the library. He shared mechanical engineering with Patrick, but he was on his own in biology and both Patrick and Martin had their own homework to complete.
After the first week, Cloud was despairing. It seemed that all he ever managed was to get even more behind in his academic classes. Additionally, the physically taxing mornings were taking their toll and he found himself constantly tired and unable to concentrate properly. He had wanted to spend the first Sunday resting, but with the amount of additional homework mounted on him, he had spent the day in the library. At least he was getting intimately familiar with the library staff, who were mostly friendly with the exception of one grumpy old man, who took it as a personal insult that Cloud didn't know what the July revolt of 1953 was about. Apparently he had participated.
And Monday night, when he once again felt stumped by yet another extra assignment given to him by the damnable history teacher he finally gave in. His head hit the book in front of him with a loud thunk, causing both Martin and Patrick to shoot him a questioning glance. Cloud wasn't commonly prone to melodramatics.
"I'm getting nowhere," he stated, face still pressed into the book he had been reading. "I give up."
"Uh," Martin began, swivelling his gaze to Patrick for a brief how-the-fuck-do-you-deal-with-depressed-blondes look, before directing it back to blond spikes when no answer seemed forthcoming. "Isn't it... a bit early to give up?"
Cloud looked up, levelling an icy stare on the brunette.
"I mean," said brunette continued, disconcerted by the level gaze. "It's only been a week and... well, even Irwin and his lackeys are too tired to do more than shove people in the queue."
"My brain," Cloud enunciated carefully, "is being wrung like you would wring the neck of a rodent to kill it. Right now, it's doing the twitching thing before falling silent. Forever."
Martin winced at the imagery. He had never really thought much about how to kill rodents beyond putting rat poison in the corners of the kitchen. "Surely it can't be that bad." Cloud just looked at him. "Surely..." He mumbled reaching for Cloud's extra assignments to read them over. His eyes widened slightly. "Hey, Patrick? Take a look at this..."
Raising a quizzical eyebrow, the boy received the few papers describing what Cloud had to do to fill in the blanks of his knowledge. As he read though, his other eyebrow joined the first. "You're screwed," he commented succinctly.
"And that there's only my history assignments. I also have an assignment on 'everything about electricity' for mech and I have to figure out what the heck chemistry's about before we start biochemistry."
"...You've been wanting to rant for awhile, haven't you?" Martin noted, looking through the history stuff again. "Dude, this isn't anywhere close to fair. I mean, sure we covered the uprising in Kalm a hundred years ago in school, but..."
"...But?"
"I don't think you could find two students in our class, who could name even one of the leaders of the Kalm Capitol Alliance. We just know that they changed a lot. And dude, he can't be serious! Agriculture? Who even wants to know about agriculture? And this isn't even about agriculture today. ...I'm sorry to tell you this, hon'..."
"Don't call me 'hon'."
"...But he's picking on you," Martin continued unperturbed. "Have you noticed how almost every teacher's decided on a student or a couple students, who's... well, not up to par? Am I the only one who thinks they're trying to get people to quit?" He saw realisation dawning in Cloud's eyes before turning to Patrick, who shook his head.
"I'm not in the SOLDIER program. They like prospective pilots, apparently."
The blonde turned back to the brunette, a dangerous light appearing in his eyes. "So I'm not good enough, is that it?" The usually soft-spoken, almost mild and definitely not very intimidating blonde had narrowed his eyes and was sending glares towards the papers in Martin' hand. Martin quickly delivered them back, just in case they caught fire. "We'll just have to see about that."
"Uh, Cloud?" An incensed growl was the only answer. "Cloud, don't do anything rash, okay?"
"Don't worry, Martin, I'm just gonna prove that I'm up to snuff." For some reason the flash of teeth that came along with the statement didn't feel reassuring at all.
And with that he returned to his book, every now an then making notes on the paper next to him, for all the world seeming to want to kill the paper with his pencil.
"Right," the tallest of the three stated before he returned to his own homework.
- - -
"I'm done."
"Done? Is this about quitting again?" Although it wouldn't be surprising considering how every teacher seemed to pile them in homework and Cloud, who had to catch up besides. Add the continued lethargy due to the strenuous morning classes (although Martin had gotten the impression that Cloud was doing well in those) and it really wasn't very surprising.
There had already been one quitter in their dorm, the kid from the marsh village, who had given up just a few days previously, courtesy of Irwin Carman and his posse, who had descended on the kid the second they had the energy to boss people around.
"No, idiot. I'm done with catching up. At least in mech and biology. Oernstrup still thinks I'm lagging." He grimaced but knew there was no way he could ever convince the man otherwise. First impressions and all that.
"Just in time too." Patrick commented from the doorway, having just arrived.
"In time? In time for what?"
The raven sent the taller boy an exasperated look. "If you didn't interrupt, I could tell you. They're holding exams for the sword classes on Friday."
"Exams?" Cloud asked when Patrick stopped.
"Gee, Cloud, don't you listen in class? And here I thought you were this great child genius getting caught up in only a month." The blonde shot Martin a Look at the sarcastic comment. His academic scores was still well below average.
"The exams," Patrick pressed, "is to determine motor coordination, which basically means whether or not you can carry a sword without stabbing your foot. They also want to establish the level we're at."
"Well, we already know who's gonna make it to the top, right Cloud?"
"What?"
"Don't look so innocent. You're easily among the top three in our hand-to-hand combat class."
Cloud blinked. "I am?"
Martin rolled his eyes. "The only way I can imagine you not realising that is because you're put together with Fuentes, and he's also pretty good not to mention a good deal taller. You were also the first to be allowed on the shooting range, didn't you see Carman's face?"
"I was?"
"Dude. If you weren't so adorable and oblivious I'd hate you. Seriously."
"Uh... thanks. Wait, adorable?!"
"Aw, come on! Don't tell me you aren't using those eyes to your advantage. I bet your mother couldn't say no to you if she tried. You're just the sort of guy who'll just always be popular just because you look good."
Cloud had to blink at that, then snort in derisive amusement.
With no comment from the blonde, Martin safely figured the topic closed, and lapsed into a one-sided discussion on sword types, leaving Cloud to contemplate the information he had just been given.
There was of course the rather startling revelation that he was among the better of his classmates. He honestly hadn't noticed, too absorbed in his homework hell and just concentrating on bettering himself. He really wasn't the sort to compare himself with others unlike Irwin Carman, who was always boasting loudly whenever Cloud entered a room.
The blonde rolled his eyes, thinking that maybe Carman had thought he was proving something, boasting about how many push-ups he could take, and it was true that he was getting less flabby, but then it was doubtful that anyone could be anything less than in good shape considering the amount of exercise they were performing. After two weeks they had even started running around upper plate every morning before breakfast. Not in time but still in formation and considering that Cloud had considerably shorter legs than average, the morning races had been almost gruesome at first.
Regardless. It was good news that he was doing well but the fact that they would start combat training with swords.. that was exciting. He could hardly wait.
- - -
The tests had been rather dull compared to all the excitement they had caused in the dorms, just basic motor reflexes and eye-hand coordination before going through the motions they were taught in their martial arts classes. Which so far was nothing more than exchanging a series of parries and punches already choreographed and timed.
In short, it had been easy for the agile blonde.
And now he had been placed in class for those with superior athletic abilities. Which was sort of nice and it certainly was boosting his ego, but it also meant that he had to be good and the pressure was an annoyance he could have done without. Then again, considering that Irwin Carman was in the class too, maybe not. Obviously superior athletic abilities had all of squat to do with mental functions.
They were all sort of just standing there (well, aside from Carman who was boasting yet again to anyone who cared or didn't care to listen) waiting for the instructor to arrive.
"Attention!" they filed into a neat line in seconds, all of them more than used to the military protocol by now. The man nodded once, sharply, before waving them at ease.
"I'm sure you new recruits all think this is very exciting and you're all very proud of yourself for making it into this class. I sincerely hope you realise what it means to be in this class? You! Cadet, what's your name?" He pointed at a boy to Cloud's right, with a jaw much too big for his narrow face and shoulders to match.
"Carl Jones, sir!"
"Well, cadet Jones, what does it mean that you're in this class?"
"That we're better than the others, sir." There was just a hint of insecurity near the end.
"No, idiot, that's 'why' you're here, I asked what it means!" The instructor picked up a training word, long and slim compared to the rest, walked over to Jones and whacked him over his thigh with the flat side. The slap all but echoed through the small room like a clap of thunder. Suddenly, even though they were 'at ease' everyone stood a little straighter. "Are there anyone who can answer my question? Step forward!" Everyone took a step back, except for Cloud. "Yes? What's your name?"
"Cadet Cloud Strife, sir." He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, not looking as the big man came close, crowding him.
"And you think you can answer?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, lets hear it."
"Being in a class that's considered superior means there's no room for error, sir. We have to be the best and we have to continue to be the best. Sir."
The officer turned on his heel to address the class, not acknowledging whether the answer had been correct. "I'm sergeant Mårdh. I'll be your instructor in fencing. I will not cuddle you; you're in the military. If you want cuddling you can go back home to your mothers. I expect results and you will provide them or I will punish you in any way I see fit. If you really are the best, though, and I severely doubt that, you wont have a problem." He cast a look back at Cloud, as if to say that he was the reason he had doubts. Great, another teacher, who didn't think he was good enough.
"All of you, pick a sword from here, make sure the length and weight are befitting of your body type."
Half the class rushed for the swords, not noticing Mårdh's grimace of distaste. Cloud held back along with Fuentes, who had also made the class, and half a dozen others, waiting for the overeager bunch to finish before nearing the neat pile.
Cloud automatically picked up a sword of the same length as the standard issue broadswords used by most SOLDIERs. It was a little heavy but it felt supremely good in his hands, the weight of the metal in his hand felt... right. Like coming home would feel maybe. However before Cloud had truly registered how very natural it felt to carry a sword that proportionally was way too big for him, Mårdh had moved in and removed it from his grip.
"A tiny cadet like you should try a much smaller sword. Like this," he said, and handed Cloud a much smaller one, no longer than his arm and a great deal slimmer than he would've chosen for himself. The weight was entirely too light. He raised his eyes to protest but already before he opened his mouth, he knew is was futile. "Sir, it... feels too light."
"Nonsense. You're not experienced enough to judge that correctly. Get in position."
Cloud bit his lip and got into position to the back, furthest from Sergeant Mårdh. By the time he turned around his face was carefully schooled not to reveal any of the anger at the instructor's uncaring dismissal. The practice sword in his hand felt about as effective as a wooden stick. A dry one that breaks the first time you hit anything with it.
It was a foolish notion of course. The thing was, while mostly wood, cored with steel and even if the edge (or lack thereof) made it little more than a club, it would probably still hurt quite a bit if you hit someone over the head with it.
Still, Cloud couldn't rid himself of the feeling of... wrong. It just wasn't supposed to feel this light in his hands.
"Detention is given to anyone who hits another student before we start sparring practices, and this week, we're only practising stances and foot work. Follow my lead." He demonstrated the stance and every cadet imitated to the best of their ability. "Now, your sword arm in front, keep it upright so you'll be ready to parry. Strife, you're stance is too wide, correct it. The other arm is used for balance at the back, Strife, the stance is still too wide and your left arms at the back, not up front to help you carry the sword. It should be small enough for you, I sincerely hope you can lift it."
Cloud grit his teeth and tried to do as he was told, however it made him feel oddly out of balance to stand with such a narrow stance and having his off hand waving in he air behind him to make up for it made him feel stupid. But Mårdh was right, he had no experience with swords or fighting with one or even using one to cut vegetables.
The rest of the class was excruciating and he earned two detentions for accidentally hitting other students before they got the hint and moved out of his reach. Mårdh all but showered him with criticism and it seemed like every time he had something to criticize, it would somehow disrupt whatever flow Cloud had managed to gain.
- - -
"He sounds like a bitch."
"That wasn't the point I was trying to make!"
"Well, regardless, I can't really help you with your stance and all seeing as I barely even was accepted into sword classes. Besides, my instructor's a bumbling idiot. I mean, I'm sure he can hold his own, 's just... he's extremely absent minded."
"You'd rather be in my class?"
"With someone who picks everything apart like that? No way. Its just that giving us an instructor like that... 't makes me feel like they've already given up on us, yanno? Like it isn't even worth it to teach us real fencing."
"Oh. I see... I'm sorry."
"Naw, don't be. Not your fault you're an athletic genius."
"Which I'm not, apparently." He tried to shoot a smile for that, but he was afraid it might look just as faked as the one Martin shot him back.
- - -
Fencing was only every second day, but nevertheless Cloud woke almost every morning, dreading it. Mårdh had started with simple constant criticism, but when it was obvious that the small blonde wasn't going to quit that easily, he had moved on to insults and when the first didn't work, they only got cruder and cruder.
"Ye gads, Strife, I didn't know they allowed girls into the SOLDIER program."
"Listen, if you want to be cuddled, go home to your boyfriend, it won't happen in my class."
"If you keep spreading your legs like that, then maybe you should start blaming your boyfriend?"
It was only Patrick's reminders that if he should attack Mårdh, not only would he get a serious beating, he was probably also going to be discharged for attacking a superior officer, that kept him from doing just that. As it was, the sound of Cloud gritting his teeth every time the sergeant opened his mouth was audible throughout the room.
It didn't help that Carman had picked up on it right away and seeing as he had lost his favourite chewing toy already, he had descended on Cloud and his friends with relish.
"Oh, are you having a date with your boy friend?" He'd comment while they were holed up in the library or eating dinner or whenever else Cloud and Martin would find themselves without Patrick. When Patrick was there too he tried insinuating that Cloud were being unfaithful while being about as subtle as the meeting between a truck and a brick wall.
The entire situation was frustrating to the extreme but there was nothing to do but buckle up, grit his teeth and concentrate on everything else.
He was still doing well in the hand-to-hand combat classes as well as the firearms class (they had started practising with rifles) and he could feel that he was picking up the pace in his academic courses too, in spite of Oernstrup's valiant effort of keeping him swamped with homework. It was almost as though the further he came along the easier it became to remember the theory.
Three weeks after Carman and his buddies had started their campaign, Martin quit.
The decision came rather suddenly to Cloud, who hadn't caught any hint that the lanky boy wanted to give up. Yes, he knew that his fencing classes had been frustrating and that he had been included in the bullying by Carman and his gang, but that shouldn't mean that he would quit. Every derisive word from Mårdh, every badly veiled insult from Carman, all they did was making him feel more determined to prove to everyone that he wasn't someone you could just walk all over, no matter his humble height. Besides, he was growing. The growth spurt he had had since arriving had put at least another two inches to him.
Until Martin resigned, Cloud hadn't noticed how valuable it had been to have a friend. He did like Patrick, but neither of them were the type to keep a conversation going, Patrick even less than Cloud, and besides, the raven had friends among his own dorm mates. The result was that now that Martin wasn't there to keep them together they quite easily drifted apart, only speaking in the one class they shared, mechanical engineering.
That meant that Cloud suddenly found himself alone and practically at Irwin's mercy. He didn't much care for the insults, Mårdh's were subtler and far more cutting, but at least he was only subjected to those two hours every second day. Irwin seemed to make a point of being in his face as much as possible.
Additionally, he was making no progress whatsoever with his fencing.
And so it came to be that in the afternoon, when most of everyone else was doing their homework at the library or in class, Cloud was practising the sword alone in one of the training rooms furthest from everywhere else. He didn't care to be interrupted while falling over his own feet, which seemed to happen every time he tried keeping his stance as narrow as Mårdh wanted it. His flow was much better when he was alone and allowed his feet to part properly and his knees to bend.
Of course, practising alone was not to go on forever. Two weeks after he had started, he was interrupted for the first time by a loud, brutish voice usually accustomed to either boasting or insulting those smaller than himself.
"So this is where the little fag's been hiding? Have you been all grief stricken since your boyfriend went away?"
*Gasp* She didn't, did she? Oh, yes, she did, she ended with an attempt at a cliffie 0.0
NOTE: I could make the instructions for how-to-correctly-use-a-sword more detailed, but I don't wanna. It's enough that you know that the correct stance I used is taken from both rapier, broadsword and katana theory. You stand with your side mostly to your opponent and keep the sword lifted in a straight angle from your body pointing upwards in the direction of your opponent. Your knees are slightly bent, little more than shoulder-width and your off hand is held to the back out of the way.
In comparison, Cloud's style (as shown in FFVII) has... well... a lot of holes XD He's standing with his side to the opponent but his sword is held in both hands in front and his feet are a great deal more than shoulder width apart and knees heavily bent.
Of course the buster sword is a two-hand sword, which makes Cloud's style a lot more sensible... just not when he uses it on one-hand sword practise. I feel sorry for him.
NOTE: Mårdh is another Swedish name. Dh is silent, simply denoting.. uh... the way you stop the år sound and år is pronounced the same way as aa in Maanson (aka like the u in up). It supposedly means Pine Marten and supposedly was a nickname for a man in the army (how fitting XD). (I don't get where they get the 'pine' from, I only see the marten part)
History teacher's named after my own history teacher, who liked me whenever I wasn't falling asleep in her classes XD
You guys may have noticed that there's an abundance of Scandinavian names. Well, I'm Danish, so Scandinavian names are what I know the most of. Besides, FFVII uses a great deal of references to Norse mythology, so I feel permitted.
...I gotta stop with all these friggin long notes.
Reviews are as ever appreciated! ...How'd you like Mister Mårdh?