Seph, Blues: post-Kadaj
"Hey. General."
For all the events of the day--the week, really--nothing had fazed Sephiroth. He was not shocked, surprised, unable to fathom, or even confused by anything that had finally transpired with his poorly attempted clones. Perhaps he had been somewhat indignant, but what was that compared to the fact that home-grown people were supposed to be his living embodiment? This had been the Shinra, after all. This had been Hojo.
Now, Sephiroth flinched. Perhaps not the title itself (one cannot escape their black spots), but the strong usage if it, reminding him, You weren't always so wretched and But wasn't that worse? Looking over his shoulder put the address in context, though, because who else in this world would call him foe when everyone else called him monster?
"You still haven't changed much," Blues noted drily.
The Wutaiian demon was parked an old, crumbling wall, which appeared to be habit judging off decade-old sharp memories, when they had crossed swords twice. Those memories also told him another thing. "You haven't at all."
"Nice to know your memory loss didn't cut me from them. I won both our fights, for the record."
Sephiroth scoffed as he turned around fully; men like Blues did not do 'idle chatter'. "Don't fish. My memories up to a point might be fuzzy, but before then is unaffected."
"Never mind tactics; I wanted to be sure you were clear on those events."
"What do you want with me?"
For a beat, there was nothing but the noises of the ruins between them. Then, Blues kicked off the wall and landed on the ground, a cloud of dust rising from his shuffled feet. "You owe me something, and I owe you something in return."
Sephiroth looked down at Blues, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. The man had put himself in a place of disadvantage, something warriors simply did not do, even on accident. With your enemy in front of you and a wall right at your back, it was dangerous. It cut off escape routes and cut down retaliation options. "And what do I owe you?"
"An explanation." And Blues was serious. "Why was I not turned over to Shin-Ra?"
Not "Why didn't you kill me?" or "Why did you return me to the Wutaiians?" Specifically: "Why did you not give a virtual weapon of war, a captured weapon, to your Shin-Ra scientists?" The technology alone was enough to suspect the Wutaiians of being far more formidable and dangerous, had they created an android protector. Sephiroth should have turned Blues over. He instead hid the fact from everyone, that the demon prisoner was no mere man, but an ageless machine more capable and sophisticated than anything their military had produced for as known as Seph has been alive. Should have turned it over, made it their own, and won the war that way.
Had it been honor? Had it been his instincts and his gut? It hadn't been a sense of similarity; Sephiroth had not known how unique he was until long after the war. But there had been something, something that had told him, "No, not this time, don't trust."
"I don't have one."
"Or is it one you can't bother to admit? You don't break protocol for no reason." Blues stepped forward, away from the wall and towards him. He slipped his shades off, and it was like looking at another person. A heartbreakingly young face, a young teenager. He really had not changed in nine years. "What made you do it?"
How do you explain there was something about a person that made you want to keep a secret? They had clashed as enemies, the advancing force to take out the main guard of the city. It was a long fight, and there was one moment when Sephiroth had almost believed that Blues was some mythical demon in human form, having survived a thrust through the chest without any blood spilt and forcing the sword by the blade with his bare hands out of the tree truck he was crucified on. You fight an equal like that, you find out his secret, and it makes you wonder if pretending their prisoner has died--making it easier to return him to his people--was not out of respect.
"Reason isn't a reflexive human trait. Impulse without reason is natural."
Blues raised an eyebrow, look of retched disbelief. "That is one hell of an angel on your shoulder." Seph grimaced at the word 'angel'. "But if there really was no conscious thought-out reason, General--" Yes, Blues definitely did not believe him. "--I suppose what I'm about to tell you is all that more appreciative." Beat. "Thank you."
Sephiroth's brow furrowed. The way Blues said it made it sound like it carried the weight of many. He could only believe it meant for the Wutaiians.
"A lot of people would have been killed," he continued in earnest, "had Shin-Ra gotten me. Not just Wutaiians; hundreds of people all over the world would have been slaughtered. It's not a big number, but they're important for the world. And as it turns out, one is even important to you."
The implication put ice in his chest. "You mean Koarin." Blues nodded; Seph may not have known Koarin until long after the war, but to realize he never would have known Ko at all was.... Life could have turned out very differently. Too differently. He might not have survived the northern crater; it was not as if anyone else from that party had been keen to keep him alive. "Do I owe you my life?"
"No." Adamant. " I owe you mine and many others. There's no telling where your life may have gone without the people who were in it now, so you owe me nothing. I wanted you to know this, though." Snort. "I probably was in your debt, but I figured that stealing you from the hospital two years ago evened us up."
Seph did not remember that. Unless it involved the beasts that had rampaged in Junon. That's roughly where the fuzzy period ended. "You did what?"
"No one filled you in on that, huh?" Blues didn't even seem surprised he asked. "Ask me later; it's not that riveting. Your sword's over that way." He jerked a thumb behind him, beyond the wall and to his right.
Sephiroth wasn't leaving without one definite answer, however, now that he had the demon. "You've never been human."
"No," Blues said slowly, "never."
Blues looked almost expectant now, as if Seph had the answer. He didn't, not entirely. There was a machine underneath the human surface, but there was no name for it (yet). Like Kadaj had proven with himself, who knows how many other 'living machines' existed. And it sounded that, no, they were not Wutaiian in origin. So who knew where they all were, these 'hundreds'.
Blues replaced his glasses. "I'm going to give you a tip," he said, finger to the bridge as he pushed them up into place, "since I think you'll make a decent person in time." Sephiroth frowned, distantly insulted. "Dr. Creisse will be, ah, 'hanging around' a guy that looks a lot like Koarin from now on. For everyone's sake, do try to keep on his good side. While I'm sure a fight between you two would be a sight to see, don't."
"And why would we fight?"
"Because--" That might have been a smirk tugging at the corners of Blues' mouth. "--you two are scarily alike. See you around."
"Scarily alike," he said. If Blues thought the real reason they would fight was due to the similarities between himself and the creature known as Zero, then Blues was rather dumb.
But if Blues thought it was funny to not mention that Zero was technically (as technical as inorganic involvement could be) Koarin's father and knew the blond 'machina' would not stand for his 'son' to be seeing him, the next person he would be fighting with would not be Zero. And Seph didn't think Blues was dumb.
Round three was on.