Chapter Six: The Naming
She met Professors Hojo and Gast for the first time that day. The latter arrived first, moving to her. "Glad to see you are up. I'm Professor Gast." He held out his hand cordially and she timidly shook it. His grip was firm and confident, she noticed, and his voice was brisk, but not unkind. "And that…is Hojo," he continued. He leaned close to her ear, whispering so the other man wouldn't hear. "Just between you and me, he's a bit of a necessary evil. You'll get used to him." He winked kindly. "Our secret, all right?" She didn't know what he was talking about, but she filed the advice away for a later time.
The man he gestured to had his back turned, a slick and thin ponytail of black hair tracing his spine, stark against the white of his lab coat. He was bent over a clipboard, thin and bony hands furiously scribbling away. "Quit the idle chatter and do your job, Gast."
Unlike Gast's voice, Hojo's was high and nasal, clearly accented with impatience and cruelty. When he spoke, he had neither looked up nor paused his writings. He did not acknowledge her or Sephiroth at all.
Sephiroth sent murderous glares in Hojo's direction. She was almost frightened by his fierce expression.
"Do you like having a friend, Sephiroth?" Gast turned to the boy, who had remained faithfully at her side.
Sephiroth didn't answer, but looked to Gast with a worried expression on his face. "Don't worry," Gast mouthed in reply to the boy's silent question. "I won't let him."
Gast unhooked a cloth band from the wall, wrapping it around her arm. Pressure began to build as the band inflated, and Gast's gaze turned to a meter on the wall. Humming his approval after studying it for a matter of seconds, he removed the restraint and returned it. "Fit as a fiddle," he said.
Hojo turned around at this. His glasses were perched at the tip of his nose, and he pushed them up. The harsh light of the room caught the glass, and a wave of light enveloped the lenses for only a moment before revealing black, cruel and calculating eyes. Gast stepped aside to allow him to approach her; Sephiroth simultaneously moved closer.
"Would you be kind enough to move, Sephiroth?" Hojo's tone was anything but polite.
Sephiroth's eyes flashed, but he moved over a foot or so.
Hojo seized her arm and she winced as she felt his cold and clammy skin. He smelled strongly of chemicals, mixed with that stale smell of nothingness that seemed to be predominant in this building. She didn't understand why, but he took painstaking care in examining her arm, checking everything from her finger joints to the way her shoulder rotated. Something about the way he handled her told her that he would take no questions, and when she looked to Gast for help, he only shook his head and held up his hands in a clear gesture of defeat. Sephiroth's tense and threatening gaze did not leave the doctor, and he followed every movement he made.
He released her after a rather lengthy examination, turning again to the clipboard. "Very good. I think she's ready. Now, Number 46, if you will come with me…"
"Aralyn."
Hojo turned and looked at Sephiroth, disapproval clearly etched on his face. "What did you say?"
"Aralyn!"
"What in Gaia is that, boy?"
"Her! Her name is Aralyn. Not 'Number 46'. Aralyn," he insisted. His voice was strong, but youthful. Any anger or power that his words might have held was dimmed by this fact. All the same, he stared at Hojo and showed no sign of apology or repentance to his elder.
"Aralyn." Hojo said it slowly, as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. "Amusing, Sephiroth, but I will call her what I will."
The girl, or Aralyn, as she was now called, returned to Sephiroth. "Why Aralyn?" she whispered to him.
"Because it's pretty," he said simply. "And it's better than Number 46. If you don't like it though—"
"No," she breathed, blushing scarlet. "I like it. Thank you."
Gast intervened at this point. "Come along, Aralyn." He lifted the blankets from her body and helped her out of her bed. The tile on the floor numbed her bare feet, and she shivered.
"I'll get you some slippers, and more comfortable attire," Gast promised. "It does get chilly in here."
"Gast?"
Hojo waited at the door, holding it open in a clear indication that they should be leaving. Sephiroth's timid voice, however, had made Gast turn around. "Yes, Sephiroth?"
"Can you promise me…?"
"Yes. Yes, I can." Gast finished quickly, not wanting the last words to be spoken. "Her room will be next to yours, and you can wait for her there if you'd like."
Hojo scoffed. "Next to him? I will not have this filthy girl contaminate my prize specimen. She may take the empty room on the fifth floor."
"I'm terribly sorry, Hojo," Gast said firmly, looking his fellow scientist in the eye. "But arrangements have been made. She is roomed next to Sephiroth."
"The last thing he needs is a meddlesome girl."
"As educated as you may be, Hojo, and as much as you study Sephiroth, there are still a lot of things about what he needs that you have not even tried to understand."
The insult rang in the air. Hojo's face showed no change, even his eyes remaining devoid of emotion. "There are places she must be," Hojo insisted. He turned and briskly walked away. "Pre-Op in five minutes, Gast. See that she is there."
Gast took Aralyn's hand and gently led her. "Come along," he said.
Aralyn looked back at Sephiroth, who was still perched on her bed, staring at her with an unnamable emotion in his eyes. She waved her free hand, but he didn't respond, still in his daze.
It looked like he mouthed "I'm sorry," as she left.