Right Foot Forward
Word Count: 4033
"SOLDIER First Class Angeal Hewley, report to Director Lazard's office immediately," the PA system crackled. Angeal, about to dig into lunch in the cafeteria, frowned, and Genesis and Sephiroth looked at him curiously.
"Is your PHS broken?" Sephiroth wondered.
"Not to my knowledge," Angeal grumped. "It was working fine this morning." Irate, he pulled it out and checked. There were several new messages from throughout the day, but none from Lazard or his office. "It seems to be ok," he reported, confused.
The PA system was never used to summon individuals. SOLDIER missions were private, as were Turk missions, Infantry missions, and the business of everyone else that worked at Shinra, whether their position be administrative, scientific, military, or covert. The showroom gift shop downstairs had its own PA rig so that people could be called to the front, but that was different.
"Maybe the problem is in the Directors office?" Genesis suggested. "Although if Lazard needed you that badly, he should have just called."
Angeal shrugged. "I guess I'll find out," he said simply, collecting his tray and trying not to look too annoyed.
"The wandering soul knows no rest!" Genesis groaned dramatically, throwing his fork down on his plate.
Sephiroth rearranged his features in attempt to express his disappointment. "We were so close," he murmured.
Angeal frowned. Things had been so hectic in Wutai that this was the first time in months the three of them had all been able to find even a half-hour of free time to sit together. They had all been looking forward to reconnecting, and now Angeal was suddenly being called away. "Maybe things will go quickly," he said hopefully. "And if not, I'll see you both tonight. We're still on, right?"
Sephiroth nodded solemnly while Genesis pouted. "Yeah," the redhead grumped, "If you're still in Midgar, we're still on."
With that bleak reassurance, Angeal left their table to head up to Lazard's headquarters. Lazard's secretary greeted him with a smile and waved him right through, and Angeal took a deep breath before heading into the main office. Lazard was in his chair, spun around and not facing his door, so Angeal stood to attention and saluted a sharp "Sir!" to make his presence known.
He was not up for corporate waiting games today.
Luckily the Director didn't seem to be in the mood to play any, because the blonde turned in his chair and greeted Angeal with a quick upward quirk of his lips – not quite a smile, but perhaps an attempt at cordiality – and gestured for him to take a seat. Angeal sat very tentatively indeed.
"I apologize about the summons," Lazard said briskly, "but I wasn't sure where you were and I wanted you to come by as quickly as possible. My secretary was supposed to contact you about this yesterday, but we've been a bit behind on a number of things lately," he said by way of apology. "Anyway, his schedule is tight, so I needed you to work with it."
"I'm sorry, sir – his?" Angeal asked. Was he going to see the President, for some reason?
"Ah… yes. General Hewley, I know this is sudden, and very unconventional, but I've selected you to mentor one of the cadets this year. If you're ready, I can take you to see him now."
Angeal stared at his Director, floored. The mentoring program was new, and mostly developed for Seconds and older Thirds to help Third newbies adjust to life as super soldiers. For a general to mentor a cadet – Angeal had never heard of anything like it. (A little voice in the back of his head added, 'why is it that I have to fit my schedule to that of a damn cadet?' but Angeal pushed that aside.) "When you asked the three of us if we were interested in the program," he started hesitantly. Angeal and the other two generals had been approached a few months after the program was started, and asked if they were interested in tutoring promising Seconds that might have what it took to become Generals. Since there were no exceptionally promising Seconds at that time, they had all dubiously agreed, knowing they could prevent the promotion of anyone who wasn't skilled or well enough prepared for it. Privately, Angeal had gone to Lazard and indicated that he wouldn't mind working with the Thirds, but at the same time had expressed reservations about the way the other SOLDIER might view that kind of higher-up interference. But to train a cadet… there was no guarantee this kid would even make it into SOLDIER in the first place! It was ridiculous!
"I know this isn't what you expected, Angeal," Lazard said calmly. "This cadet's teachers have all identified him as having exceptional potential, and preliminary tests indicate he will be receptive to the mako treatments. Unfortunately, what he has in aptitude he lacks in performance. He is in need of special attention if he is to successfully join the ranks of SOLDIER – and all indications are that if we can get him properly trained, he could become a great asset to our army. As he seems simply incapable of performing in the standard setting, we're removing him from it," Lazard explained, seeming somewhat ruffled. "Apparently there's some motion to overhaul the cadet program, and this cadet is our unlucky guinea pig," came the blunt explanation. "I have his file here, if you would like to view it."
Lazard held a manila envelope emblazed with the ShinRa logo out to him. Angeal accepted it gingerly and flipped the file open, and was startled to be met with a familiar face. There, stapled to the top of a thick stack of papers, was a picture of the cadet he had run into at the Meet and Greet a week ago.
"Zack Fair?" Angeal asked, startled.
"Do you know him?"
"We met briefly," Angeal hedged. This was the cadet being unanimously nominated for acceleration through the program?
"You weren't impressed," Lazard surmised, the familiar small quirk once again tugging at his lips. Angeal struggled with the urge to wipe that smirk off his boss's face, and won. Staring steadily across the desk at his Director, he shook his head.
"Well, wait until you see his combat style," Lazard suggested blithely. "If he's really a poor choice, we can always pursue other options."
Angeal frowned. It was not honorable to indicate to a man that he would be promoted one week and ruin his dreams the next, and Angeal nursed severe disapproval of this particular facet of ShinRa's corporate style.
"Angeal," Lazard said sternly, "I know this is an assignment you will hate. Perhaps it is an assignment that will prompt your hatred of me. Regardless, this is a directive from the upper echelons of ShinRa, and you are the only person who can make it happen. Fair must be trained by a General. Sephiroth is good at inspiring his troops in horrible situations," Angeal stared at him blankly – it was common knowledge that Sephiroth was given the most dangerous, riskiest assignments because the labs were 'in constant need of more data,' and it was often all the General could do to bring back the men who had gone out with him, but he was legendary for his successes in that endeavor, "and at inciting them to push their limits," Lazard continued – and yes, Sephiroth's army consistently held records for most limit breaks while on duty – "but he is not good at supporting his men away from the battlefield, and he has a low conception of the differences between his strength and that of unenhanced warriors." Well, Angeal couldn't disagree with that, but it wasn't like it was Sephiroth's fault. He didn't really have anything to go on. "And Genesis would take one look at Fair and that would be the end of his decision-making process – the decision being whether he should ignore the boy completely or turn him into a plaything." Angeal was impressed with Lazard's assessment of his Generals – especially with how concisely and yet aptly he had pegged Genesis' character.
"And what is it you anticipate I will do?" Angeal asked.
"Put your all into the mission," Lazard said simply, and then went on, "Angeal, you'll look out for him, and you'll make sure he's learning, but you won't coddle him or treat him like glass, and you'll push his limits, but you won't expect more from him than he can reasonably achieve. You'll get the damn job done. Now are you ready to go see him?"
"It doesn't seem like I have much choice."
This time, Lazard granted him a true smile, and it was beautiful enough that Angeal almost forgave him for the horrible situation being dumped in his lap. It was also calculated enough that Angeal almost punched his boss in the face to make him stop. Almost. "That's what I like to hear."
Angeal had followed Lazard to the observation room that looked down on the cadet gym. Like most exercise rooms in Shinra headquarters, the cadet gym was built with ease of viewing in mind, and it was a simple matter to watch the goings on of the room. Angeal picked Fair out of the group quickly. He was practicing his sword forms, a look of intense concentration on his face. Angeal immediately noticed that while his stance wasn't perfect, it looked like he was naturally settling into something resembling strong footing, and most of what he lacked was practice and guidance.
The boy was certainly not lacking in enthusiasm. He didn't even have a real weapon yet, and was practicing with a wooden pole until he could prove himself capable around something more dangerous, but his partner was quickly wilting under his onslaught. Angeal watched with interest born of necessity: he had already settled into thinking of himself as Fair's mentor, and was taking mental notes on the cadet's performance to discuss later.
"His grip is sloppy," Angeal groused. He kept watching, and in less than two minutes, Zack had moved his hands to a better position.
"No further complaints?" Lazard wondered aloud when Angeal had said nothing else by the time Cadet Fair put his pole away. "Maybe we should just skip the mentoring and promote him to SOLDIER now."
"He improved his grip, but only because he was about to loose hold on that pole," Angeal said irritably. "His stance is fine, to start, but his footwork is terrible, and it takes him far too long to get back into a stable position whenever he moves. He has a lot of enthusiasm, sure, and good energy, but he looks flighty. He hasn't been able to concentrate long enough to make it through any of his combos yet, and at this level the things he's trying are only a couple of moves strung together. He seems to be developing a nasty habit of whacking at his sparring partner like he's using some sort of machete. And don't even get me started on his core support."
"Sounds like you've got yourself a student," Lazard said mildly, and when Angeal turned to glare at him, he was met with a bland smile.
"It sounds like I've got myself a real pain in the ass," he said bluntly. "If I take him without complaining, will you lay off me and the other generals a little? Just for today?"
"You mean, if you take him without any further complaining?" Lazard asked sweetly. "You and your friends can have the rest of the day off," the Director added, musing, "if you go tell Fair about the change in his training regimen first."
"He doesn't even know?"
"I thought I would let you be the bearer of good news. I didn't realize you two had a history."
"It's not a 'history,'" Angeal grumbled. The Director quirked an eyebrow at him. "Fine, I'm going. The rest of the day off!" Angeal shouted over his shoulder, striding out of the observation room.
It took far less time than Angeal wanted to get down to the cadet gym, but once there he didn't wait around. He had a free afternoon to get to and a couple of good friends to catch up with, and no cadet would keep him long.
"Cadet Fair?" he said, approaching the boy.
Zack looked up from his squats. "Be– I mean, uh. Sir!" he rose into a salute.
Angeal sighed. He had no desire to ever learn what the cadet had been about to call him. "Cadet Fair, due to your performance in your classes over the past few weeks, you have been indicated for an accelerated program that, if successful, will push you into SOLDIER faster than would otherwise be possible. From here on, you will report directly to me." Lazard had said Angeal would have free reign over the cadet's training schedule, and Angeal was going to take advantage of that.
Fair gave him a speculative look. "Are you sure, sir?"
"What did you say to me, Cadet?" Angeal glared. Cadet Fair didn't flinch.
"Sorry, sir, but… I think you have the wrong guy."
Angeal stared at the boy for a moment longer. First questioning a superior officer, and then telling him he was wrong – to his face? The kid had balls, that was for sure but… he wasn't very bright. And what the hell was his problem, anyway? Didn't he want to be in SOLDIER?
"Come with me," Angeal barked after a moment's consideration. He obviously needed to sit Cadet Fair down and tell him point-blank what was going on, or the two of them would never get anywhere.
"Uh, sir, I'm in the middle of –"
Angeal couldn't believe it. "Are you refusing orders, Cadet?" he asked, voice dangerously low. "Or did you simply not hear me when I told you that from now on, you report to me? Do you know what it means to report to a superior officer, Cadet?"
The look on Fair's face was unreadable, and Angeal hated that more than any of the slights the boy had given him up to that point. Finally Fair broke eye contact, turning his gaze to the floor. "My apologies, sir. Right away." Satisfied, Angeal turned to leave the room, confident that Fair would follow him. A number of frightened and curious Cadet eyes tracked their progress, but it was only a moment after they had exited the room before Angeal heard their drill sergeant demanding that they return to work.
The general led his new charge to the elevators, trying to decide where to go. Lazard might still be in the observation room, and Angeal didn't want to deal with him. There were few other places that were likely to be empty – his office? But Zack would be there a lot, from now on, and Angeal had a feeling this conversation they were about to have would be hard. He didn't want Zack thinking about it every time he showed up for duty.
Pulling out his access card, he swiped the pad by the elevator floor options as they got on, lighting up a number of floors that were off-limits to the general public – and to lowly cadets.
A few people got on with them, riding for just a few floors. All looked curiously at the cadet in the general's custody, well aware of the difference in rank and interested in the story behind their being together. Angeal glowered at them all, willing them not to ask questions, as Fair smiled nervously at everyone he saw. They were the last still on the elevator, and when they arrived at their destination, Angeal had to shove Fair to get him to stop staring and take a few steps forward.
Successfully getting his cadet off the elevator, Angeal strode out past him onto the roof. It was usually empty – very few people had access, and it was rather too windy at midday for most of those to bother. The view was great, though, and the lack of railings were apparently enough to convince Fair he was about to get pushed off.
Angeal sighed. "Listen, kid. You're not in trouble."
Fair dragged his eyes off the view of the Midgar cityscape, and turned to look at his new commanding officer. Angeal didn't wait for any further acknowledgement.
"Your teachers think you have a lot of potential," Angeal began, and Fair closed his eyes, looking pained. Angeal knit his brow in confusion, but pushed on. "But it's also been identified that you… aren't doing well, with the… structure, here." He was trying to choose his words carefully, but it didn't seem to be helping much.
"Does everyone get the view?"
"Excuse me?"
"Ah. Sir, sorry. Does everyone get the view, sir?" Fair looked at him with pleading eyes. "Before they get fired? Or just the cadets who wash out before being hired in the first place?"
Angeal sighed again. "You're not being kicked out, Fair," he said gruffly.
"Really, because it sounds like I'm not going to be with the other cadets anymore – sir," he added belatedly, voice high. Angeal hoped he didn't start crying.
"Look, Fair, stop fucking questioning me, for starters. I don't know whom you did your protocol training with, but they should be court martialed. Now this is the last time I'm saying this: you're not being kicked out." Angeal enunciated each of his last five words very slowly and carefully, hoping they would finally sink in. "Sometimes people don't do well with the cadet schedule. It's nothing to be ashamed of. You're just going a different route. It might even end up being a faster route," Angeal added, though he thought he had said it before. Apparently the key to communicating with this kid was repeating yourself.
Fair stared at his shoes. Finally, impatiently, Angeal said, "You have my permission to speak freely, Cadet."
It was another long, drawn-out moment before Cadet Fair spoke. "When we entered the program," he started, and stopped abruptly. Angeal desperately refused to hear the harsh breath the cadet drew as a sob. "We were told some of us would wash out. If we couldn't handle the training, or the course material, or the…" that was definitely NOT a sniff, "the schedule. And now here you're telling me you don't think I can handle the schedule, and I'm not going to be with the other cadets in my year anymore, and yet somehow that's different from washing out."
Angeal told himself sternly that his heart was not breaking. This was teenage angst, pure and simple, and with a little reassurance – maybe a lot of reassurance – it would go away. "The higher-ups are using you as a guinea pig," he said bluntly. Real reassuring, Angeal, he thought, but he had the cadet's attention and there was no backing down now. "A prototype. You and me both, kid. They want us to figure out if there's another way – a way for kids like you, kids who show all the signs of being really great, but have something holding them back – for kids like that to get through without having to jump through all the hoops. Or, with expert training on what to expect from the hoops, anyway." Angeal felt he was not doing a very good job of explaining. "Look, we're both new at this, but I think – if you give up the defeatist attitude – I think we can make it work."
"Do I still have permission to speak freely? Sir?"
Angeal nodded once, curtly.
"Why… are you so adamant about making this happen? Wouldn't it be easier to let me think I am washing out… to let me leave? You don't even like me. Sir."
Angeal took a deep breath. "You were given to me as a mission, Fair, and one that no one else in the entire army is suited to take. If I fail, it goes on my record. So you better goddamn succeed."
"But you don't like me." Zack said it not as an accusation, or a complaint. It was a question, and one he seemed to desperately want confirmed.
"You're right, Cadet, I don't like you. But you don't have to like a person to do a job well with him, and you don't have to be liked to be successful. Keep that in mind." Angeal would not be able to tolerate a people-pleaser. It would be enough effort keeping Fair on track without having to constantly reassure him. "And you don't have to like a person to be straight with him, either."
Finally, Fair looked up and met his eyes again. "No," he said slowly. "No, I think you've proved that today." He waited a beat, and then asked, "Can I ask one more? Sir?"
"You may," Angeal granted with a slight incline of his head after a moment's consideration.
"Um… why the roof?"
"Where are you, Angeal?" Genesis' voice sounded tinny over the PHS.
"I'm coming already." Angeal was literally sprinting through the building, having escorted Cadet Fair back to a floor in his clearance range. His afternoon of freedom had begun, and he was ready for it.
"Well we're crashed on Sephiroth's couch. Get here fast and tell us everything." Lazard had apparently contacted Sephiroth and Genesis to alert them to their half day off, although had neglected to give them any details on the cause.
"Yeah. On my way," Angeal panted into the PHS.
"And stop puffing like that, you sound like you're about to asphyxiate. Have a little SOLDIER pride."
Angeal hung up on him.
It didn't take long to get to Sephiroth's suite, and the door was open, waiting for him. "Angeal," Sephiroth greeted calmly as his friend crashed through his door, "You forgot something earlier."
"Wha?" Angeal gasped. Maybe Genesis was right. He could have stood to run a little slower, right?
"Your lunch, beardbrain," Genesis drawled, and gestured to his cafeteria tray, neatly laid out on the coffee table in front of Sephiroth's glorious couch. "We rescued it for you after you ditched us. Lucky you have such thoughtful friends."
Angeal collapsed onto the couch, laughing. So this was what it felt like to have people who cared about you around. Over the past few months, he had forgotten.
"So? What did Director Deusericus want?" Sephiroth inquired softly.
"Hm," Angeal grunted. He rearranged himself on the couch – into a more upright position, better for eating – and reached for his tray. Genesis pouted at the delay, but didn't try to stop him. "You guys know the mentor program?" he asked around a mouthful.
"Um. Aren't you a little…"
"Overqualified?" Sephiroth supplied.
"Yeah," Angeal agreed heartily. "But not just because I'm a lofty First." The three friends traded smirks. They alone knew how little glory the job truly held. "They want me to, er, supervise a cadet."
"A cadet?" Genesis screeched.
"Supervise?" Sephiroth repeated at the same time.
"Yeah, apparently he's 'got a lot of potential' and they 'don't want to lose him' and think he's 'a great candidate for SOLDIER.' Except, you know, he can't do anything."
"Why…?" Sephiroth mused.
"A cadet?" Genesis whispered, shocked.
Angeal shrugged. "I don't know. I told him to stay with the rest of the cadets for today, while I figure out what to do with him. But…" they all traded glances. What the hell were you supposed to do with a cadet?
"Is he hot?" Genesis asked after a moment.
"He's fourteen," Angeal replied tiredly.
Genesis looked like he was about to protest – Angeal hadn't answered his question – but Sephiroth silenced him with a look. "Is there anything we can do?" he offered. He obviously had no idea what to do, but Angeal appreciated the offer all the same.
"Yeah," Angeal said slowly. "Yeah. Let's have the night we planned, and forget about everything else for now." He smiled at his friends, and their answering grins were all he needed to know he had made the right call.
With a mischievous glint in his eye, Genesis announced proudly, "It's party time."
He and Angeal turned to look at Sephiroth, who looked levelly back for a moment. Then, "Cake?" he suggested.
A/N: AND ON THAT NOTE. So, first I would like to apologize for the long wait. I know it hasn't even been three weeks, and my updating schedule is pretty fast compared to some other people, but I have been desperately trying to update this whole time, and I kept getting thwarted (getting all my residents to move out, graduating, moving out myself, packing and then unpacking again, etc.). On top of all that, this is not the chapter that was originally scheduled for this slot, but I have been having enormous trouble getting that chapter to work, so rather than keep beating my head against it I thought I would write something else instead. It's quite a bit longer than usual – consider it my apology to you.
As always, your comments and criticisms are welcome!