The problem with five year plans is they take five fragging years.
Hindsight is 20/20
A Final Fantasy VII Fanfiction
Author: Sanjuno Shori Niko
Summary: Cid has a surprise for Sephiroth, and now the 22 year old only child needs to learn how to share.
Timeline: I know that non-linear narrative is confusing. Just go to the timeline.
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(In which Sephiroth meets the triplets.)
For one of the first times in his life Sephiroth was finding it difficult to contain his excitement and remain patient. It was ridiculous. Here he was, a twenty-two year old war veteran SOLDIER Elite General, and he was acting like a child at Yule. Still, it had been two weeks since he had last heard from his parents and the horrible loneliness that had plagued his first fifteen years of life had left its mark on him. It was foolish, and Sephiroth was well aware he was being unwise. To have so much of his mental stability hinging on the well-being of two people was stupid. Just two people who, if Sephiroth were a normal human, no one would object to their importance in his life. Yet Sephiroth was not a normal man. Even if he were not Jotunar, even if he was not a member of a race long hidden from history, his parents were still fugitives hiding their survival from Shin-Ra. Should Shin-Ra discover his parents, should Hojo learn that Sephiroth had contact with them there was no telling what horrors would take place. Sephiroth’s father had already died by Hojo’s sadistic hand once before, there was no reason to risk it happening again. As for his mother… Sephiroth swallowed back bile at the too-vivid memory of hot red blood spreading on white fabric, pale skin growing chill before dissolving into glowing motes. Mother had suffered enough already. Sephiroth would burn the world down before allowing his mother to suffer one more nightmare.
Sephiroth was well aware that his mental state was… fragile. Seeing his mother die in front of his eyes at seven, having Hojo as his guardian for fifteen years, the shock of his parent’s resurrections… As glad as he had been when they found him, it was disconcerting when people returned to life without sufficient explanation. Learning that he was not, in the strictest sense, human… well. Sephiroth could be forgiven his little quirks in light of his background. As could his parents, rash and foolhardy as they were. Sephiroth often had to remind himself that his parents were well capable of taking care of themselves and were rational, intelligent adults… and then Sephiroth remembered that they entered an active warzone full of SOLDIERS and ninja with shoot-on-sight orders and secret commando terrorists just so that they could see him. After that, any attempt Sephiroth made to stay calm was doomed to spectacular failure. Despite the utter foolishness of the idea, his parents frequently went on mysterious trips. Trips that had often coincided with Hojo losing data, or a Shin-Ra operations being tampered with, or missing-in-action SOLDIERS finding themselves deposited in Sephiroth’s office like wayward puppies, and that sort of situation ended up being an exercise in creative reinterpretation of deployment papers and debriefing reports if nothing else.
Those SOLDIERS needed his parents help. Sephiroth was far too high profile to interfere directly and that knowledge was the only thing that kept Sephiroth from locking his parents away somewhere that they would be safe. There was no way to describe the revulsion that Sephiroth had felt when his parents had shown him the data on the DEEPGROUND facility. It was the only thing that allowed him to forgive them for taking the risks that they did. Sephiroth had been far too young to be a General. He knew that, even as he did his best to lead his men in Wutai, weathering Genesis’ jealously and Angeal’s patronizing attempts to play peacemaker. So he had felt absolutely no guilt for abusing the privileges of his rank. Keeping his parents informed of Unit 14’s whereabouts during the Wutai War had kept many of his SOLDIERS from being taken. Those that his parents had needed to rescue from Hojo’s labs… Sephiroth was stymied about how to help them. The best he could do was ensure that the fortified encampments in the Southern Islands remained undiscovered by official patrols. Those SOLDIERS that Sephiroth and his parents had gotten out of the labs… they were hurt, and scarred, but they were strong, and they would heal, and it was uniquely flattering when they took comfort in the rare visits that Sephiroth was able to make.
It was hard to do nothing, to simply watch, and wait, and be ready to take advantage of his enemy’s mistakes. The Planet was caught up in a tangled snarl of deceit and treachery and slowly seeping poison that was a full thousand years in the making. Finding their way free was going to take effort, and sacrifice, and the will to defy even the gods if that was what their victory took. Sephiroth smiled at that thought, his mind throwing up the image of messy spikes of black hair and laughing lavender-grey eyes that were taking on the bright violet glow of Independent Materia. SOLDIER Third Zachary Fair… it was a pity that Angeal had gotten to the young man before Sephiroth, but it was probably safer in the long run that Sephiroth avoided showing favouritism. Things like Hojo happened to the people who were important to Sephiroth, and Zachary did not deserve that sort of attention. Sephiroth sighed in resignation, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.
Mother had promised to bring him home a surprise if he was good while they were gone. Being unusually cryptic as to the goal of their mission but possessing a certain gleam of eye and curve of mouth that suggested anticipation and glee. It was a more intense version of the expression Mother wore just before something or someone who had run afoul of his mother’s not-inconsiderable temper exploded rather spectacularly. Sephiroth had wished them well, trying to hide his apprehension and not appreciating the lack of information, and then returned to SHIN-RA headquarters. Where he had spent the last month trying to distract himself with greater and lesser success with training, his fellow SOLDIERS, the Cadet Class nominations, and paperwork… but it was not until he received the all-clear message from his parents that Sephiroth was able to relax. The tension and worry that had stressed the General while his parents were gone had left, and the relief that showed in his SOLDIER’S faces when they noticed the upward shift in Sephiroth’s mood was both amusing and touching.
Angeal must have noticed something was amiss, because the man had taken a perverse sort of delight in inflicting Zachary’s company on Sephiroth. If the Third Class was not accompanying his mentor to meetings, Angeal was sending his student to bother Sephiroth when he was too busy with Genesis to do it himself. It was perhaps the only time Sephiroth appreciated Angeal’s meddling tendencies. Zachary was friends with everybody, even the Turks, and his best friend was another SOLDIER Third named Kunzel. Now Kunzel, that man was a veritable goldmine of clandestine information. Even Sephiroth would have had difficulty getting some of the information Kunzel provided on a regular basis. He would have to get Angeal something nice for Yule this year, Sephiroth mused, because with his unwitting contribution Sephiroth’s network had expanded in leaps and bounds.
Taking the usual round-about route from his place in the Shin-Ra housing complex to his parent’s home, Sephiroth added a few extra teleports and phase-steps to ease his current paranoia. If anyone had managed to plant a tracker on him without his knowledge then the transmitter would be well and truly fried. Any would-be spies would be chasing dead-end trails and sensor ghosts from one end of the Plate to another tonight.
Arriving home via teleport, Sephiroth stepped out of the circular hedge-wall that his parents had installed years ago for the express purpose of giving Sephiroth a safe place to teleport into. Any other child might have found that odd, but his parents had been the ones to teach Sephiroth how to fold space and what was a designated teleportation zone after that? The circle on the other side of the yard was for outgoing traffic. A simple setup, but there was no one outside of their small family with the ability to move as they did, so there was no need for anything more elaborate.
Sephiroth scanned the area as he crossed the lawn to the back door. He had not taken the time to put on more of a disguise than shape-shifting his hair black, but ten foot tall hedgerows were the norm for this neighbourhood, and they discouraged even the most avidly dedicated of curtain creepers from peeking in. The back door shut behind him, Sephiroth removed his boots and coat, sliding Masamune into its place on the weapon rack as he entered the living room.
“Mother? Father?” Sephiroth turned to look up the stairs, listening for the sound of footsteps. “I’m home. Where are you?”
“Up here, kiddo!” Mother’s voice was saturated with triumph and satisfaction, a vindictive glee that could shift without warning to something far more dangerous. “Come on up.”
“Yes, Mother.” Sephiroth did as his mother bid, well aware that his mother’s mercurial moods were not to be tempted. Father had gravely imparted that advice to a seventeen year old Sephiroth, and how it was best to just cater to those moods if one wanted to survive. Mother had promptly lodged a carving knife in the wall by Father’s head, ending the conversation but doing little to disprove the advice. The memory was forever imprinted in Sephiroth’s mind. Having reached the second floor, Sephiroth wondered, and not for the first time, why they needed such a large house for only three people who honestly spent little time at home.
“Sephiroth.” His father greeted the young General with a barely-there smile. “It’s good to see you so soon. Did you have any trouble getting away?”
“No trouble at all, Father. It is considered late for those who work regular hours.” Sephiroth gave his own faint smile, wondering how he could have both his father’s emotional containment and his mother’s explosive temper. Puberty had been an experience best left un-discussed. He was fortunate to have forgiving parents. “No one is expecting to see me until morning. I take it your… trip was successful?”
“Damn right it was fucking successful!” Sephiroth’s mother appeared in the doorway to on the unused bedrooms, grinning like a fiend and practically vibrating with excitement. “Gitcher ass in here and see fer yerself.”
Curious, Sephiroth glanced at his father for a hint. The older man just smiled, waving his son on. Sephiroth followed his mother into the room that had stood empty at the time of his last visit. There was furniture now. A small chest of drawers against one wall, a waist high desk with deep drawers and a padded top against the other. A rocking chair by the window, and dominating the center of the room was a large, round… bed? Pen? Adjustable bars wrapped around the mattress, and there was a section that obviously swung open like a gate.
Something was moving inside of the bars.
Sephiroth tilted his head to the side in confusion, glancing at his parents. Mother was still grinning wide, every tooth on display, and Father was smugly pleased. After a moment of consideration Sephiroth let his mother shoo him further into the room and closer to the pen. Squaring his shoulders, Sephiroth stepped the rest of the way up to the bars and looked in.
Three sets of glowing, Magic Materia green cat eyes looked back up at him from tiny faces topped with downy white baby hair. Sephiroth froze completely, his own eyes widening as his breath stilled in surprise.
“How?” The question was breathless. Sephiroth did not even dare blink, let alone speak at volume. “Who are they? They can’t. You weren’t. I thought they took more time to… you know.”
“We raided one’a that bastard Hojo’s labs.” Mother scooped up one of the infants with a chortle. “We weren’t about ta let him keep such cute little boys, now were we? No we weren’t!”
His mother appeared to have been addressing the question at the little boy. Sephiroth looked at the baby. Not having much experience with children, Sephiroth could only label it as ‘younger than the Cadets’. Sephiroth was well aware of how unhelpful that was. There were a great many growth stages between ‘newborn’ and ‘thirteen’, but Sephiroth had no clue what stage this particular infant was at.
“He looks like you.” Sephiroth had found his voice at last. That was not what he had been meaning to say, true as it was, but at least he was able to articulate properly once again. Spirits protect him from his Mother’s thrice-cursed surprises.
“What?” Mother blinked at Sephiroth before looking down at the baby he held. “Huh. Mebbe a bit in the bone structure, I guess. I wasn’t really lookin’, ta be honest.”
“They are your younger brothers.” Father finally took pity on his poor, confused (eldest) son. “The one your mother is holding is Loz, that one is Kadaj, and this one is Yazoo.”
As he gave Sephiroth his brother’s names, Father handed Kadaj to Sephiroth and lifted Yazoo into his own arms, being careful of his altered left forearm. Sephiroth could not help but notice that Yazoo more greatly resembled their father, while Kadaj did not look like either of their parents so much as he looked mostly like Sephiroth himself. It was tangible proof of belonging, of their shared origins.
“Hello Kadaj, Yazoo, and Loz.” Sephiroth smiled, feeling… softened somehow, but not in any weakening way. It was a ferocious sort of tenderness that filled him, and the Silver General thought he might understand an inkling of what had driven his parents to the lengths they had gone to in order to find him. His family was larger now, and oddly enough that made him happy. If asked yesterday, Sephiroth would not have thought he was capable of entertaining the thought of sharing his parent’s attentions and affections with any sort of grace, but these were his brothers. The word was a title, weighted with importance like Mother, like Father, and of a particular significance in Sephiroth’s mind. The tall SOLDIER shifted Kadaj in his arms to better mimic the way his parents held their own small bundles. “Welcome home, little brothers.”
Mother was pleased as a cat with cream, practically purring with joy, and Father’s expression held a tangible note of pride as he looked at his sons. Sephiroth wanted to hold on to this moment, curl up in it like he had never had the chance to curl up in his parents laps for comfort when he had still been small enough to fit.
“How old are they?” Sephiroth watched in fascination as Kadaj gripped his fingers in one small, chubby hand. He was so soft. Were all babies this soft?
“Two years, give or take.” Father smiled again as Yazoo solemnly inspected the handful of black hair he had grabbed and then contemplatively stuck the lock in his mouth. “We’ve been monitoring their development since Hojo started the Lazarus Project, and this was the soonest we could be certain of retrieving them safely.”
“They are what you have been hiding from me, these last few years.” Sephiroth did not even bother to make it a question. He was certain that he was right. “You were preoccupied with looking for them. You were searching for my little brothers each time you left.”
“… Yeah. I guess it’s a bit obvious in hindsight, huh?” Mother’s expression faded into something sad as he looked down at Loz, stroking a tender finger over the curve of a soft cheek.
“Yes. You do not like to leave me alone in Midgar. You are paranoid that Hojo may hide me away while you are gone. In the past, you have always told me where you were going and what your mission goals were so that I would never be left in the dark. After we returned from Wutai you have tended to go out separately, one remaining behind here to watch over me while the other took the most recovered of our rescued SOLDIERS as backup.” How he loathed that. Having either of his parents out of his reach grated. Being the one protected rubbed against the grain of his pride, and Sephiroth hated being helpless to do anything but endure the wait. “Yet in recent years you have both gone away together more frequently, particularly in this last year. I have said nothing because I know you only wish to keep me safe, and I trusted that you would tell me the whole of the truth once you were certain of it. I did not wish to add to your worry.”
“I apologise if we worried you unduly. It was not our intent to hide our actions from you.” Father’s voice was quiet but sincere, and Sephiroth took comfort from the familiar deep tones. “We were unsure as to the full extent of Hojo’s plans, and we were further still unsure of how long his patience would last. If this project had failed to hold his attention long enough for the triplets to reach a stable point…”
“We’ve been goin’ outta our damned minds with worry.” Mother admitted, pulling Loz closer in an overly protective gesture. “It was hell, waitin’ fer the babies to git healthy enough ta travel, hopin’ that fucker wasn’t gonna hurt ‘em someway we couldn’t fix and knowin’ that we couldn’t do nothin’ about it ‘til they were strong enough ta leave the labs…”
“… Hojo’s plans?” Sephiroth frowned, securing his hold on Kadaj as the boy squirmed in a determined effort to climb up his brother’s jacket. “What was he going to do to my brothers?”
“Fuck kiddo, ya know that old bastard ain’t ever gonna be satisfied. He’s always been workin’ on his grand plan fer an army of ‘perfect’ SOLDIERS.” Mother shook his head, eyes bleak as he looked at his children. “… I don’t wanna talk about this in here. It ain’t proper conversation fer a baby nursery. Let’s git ‘em put down and we kin tell ya the rest downstairs.”
It took a few minutes to complete that task. Yazoo went to bed without much of a fuss, but Kadaj had to be untangled from Sephiroth’s hair and Loz needed his diaper changed. Sephiroth was woefully unprepared for the complexities of infant care, and he could only hope that his parents did not expect him to be of much use until he had gotten the proper training in. Finally, all three boys were bedded down together in their oversized crib, little faces lax in sleep. Sephiroth followed his parents’ example and remained silent as they crept down the stairs.
“So where was I?” Mother flopped down on the couch, exhaustion evident in the lose sprawl of limbs. Father checked the curtains, making sure they were properly drawn. It was a trait Sephiroth shared with the older man, the need to pacify paranoia was strong, and the act of securing their safety was almost meditative after a certain point.
“Hojo.” Sephiroth sat opposite his mother, leaning forward as his father took a seat by his mother on the couch. “You said he had plans… another project that involved me and my brothers?”
“Ah, right.” Mother paused, looking blankly into the distance. Father pulled mother into his arms, eyes dark with old nightmares despite the Summons-bright shine. Mother swallowed back pain and sank back against Father’s chest. “So a few years back yer dad and I heard tell that Hojo was tryin’ his hand at re-creatin’ ya.”
Sephiroth snorted, and his father hid a smile in Mother’s hair at the sight of the general’s indignant expression.
“Yeah, I know that it ain’t really news. Fucker’s stubborn as a tick.” Mother grimaced, no doubt recalling unpleasant memories, but that did not prevent him from speaking. “Hojo started off with clonin’. I figure he wanted ta try and skip the whole childhood thing.”
“… Obviously he did not succeed.” Sephiroth was horrified and furious and feeling unavoidably violated.
“Only to a point.” Father shrugged, an eloquent gesture, and spread his hands open in response to Sephiroth’s indignant look. “In the most literal sense of the term, that is to say that on a physical and basic genetic level, Hojo did succeed in producing a dozen or so duplicates of you.”
“Why did you not tell me?” Sephiroth felt sick, futilely betrayed. “You just left them there?”
“There would have been no purpose to the risk of it. The information could only hurt you, and in truth there was nothing to save.” Father’s voice was firm, his gaze direct as he looked seriously at Sephiroth. “There was no life to them. No mind, no soul. They were sacks of meat, incapable of so much as breathing without mechanical assistance. The hairs you shed into your brush were more alive than they.”
“Oh. Then…” Sephiroth took a deep breath, trying to find his calm. It was not his father’s fault that Hojo was a monster. “What about the three upstairs? Are they so different because they started as infants?”
“Yeah. The first round weren’t nothin’ more’n dolls. We didn’t feel too bad about lettin’ Hojo play with ‘em as long as it kept him distracted from messin’ with ya. Those babies upstairs though…” Mother shifted uncomfortably, shrinking back into Father’s body like he was trying to hide away. Sephiroth hated that. Hated the proof that his parents had suffered as much or more than he had. “Hojo… well. We’ve told ya about how he was involved in us havin’ ya. We didn’t know that when he had us in the lab fer breedin’ that he… saved some’ve our reproductive materials. Since the adult clones weren’t workin’, he decided ta start over from the beginnin’. Those three’re the only ones that survived Hojo’s dickin’ around with ‘em. Lucky fer us, Hojo don’t know that we’re alive, so it was easy ta track him and be ready ta snatch the kids once he was outta the way. We spread the sabotage around and made it look like an inside job. Fucker’s gonna be so busy rantin’ about contaminated projects and lost data and figurin’ out who ta blame fer what that he won’t be focusin’ on anythin’ else fer a while.”
“Sabotage?” Sephiroth raised a silver eyebrow upon seeing his mother’s vicious smirk. “What exactly did you do?”
“Hojo sticks with fuckin’ SHIN-RA because it gives ‘im money and protection and resources.” Mother’s grin went feral with savage delight. “Nobody likes him though, and upper management’s a pit a vipers. There‘re enemies everywhere. So when three a his labs get blown ta pieces and it looks like an inside job he ain’t got a blind man’s chance at a hustler’s dart competition of findin’ out who the real culprit is.”
“Logically, Hojo is far more likely to suspect the other department heads of being responsible for the act and assume that they are trying to discredit him than he is to recall the existence of two ‘destroyed’ specimens.” Father examined his left hand with care, flexing the brass claws slowly.
“That was you.” Sephiroth covered his eyes and groaned. “Hojo has been running the TURKS and SOLDIER both ragged trying to find ones responsible. President Shinra is blaming terrorists and Wutai and is fully supporting Hojo’s wasting of our time and resources on this nonsense.”
“Sorry kiddo.” Mother flapped a hand in dismissal and apology. “Yer on yer own with that fer now. Hell, pick someone ya don’t like much and cook up some circumstantial evidence that’ll pin the blame on ‘em. That should make ya feel better.”
“You mean for me to pit my enemies against each other.” Sephiroth leaned back in his chair, eyes half closed as he pictured it. “That does sound like a pleasant distraction.”
“That’s my boy.” Mother’s tone was proud and fond as he reached out to pat Sephiroth’s knee. “Now tell me how things have been going for you. Meet anyone special yet?”
His mother’s eyes were gleaming dangerously, and Sephiroth darted a pleading look at his father, only to find the older man casually looking away, for all appearances completely absorbed in the silk painting mounted on the far wall. There would be no help found there.
“No, just paperwork.” Sephiroth blurted the first thing that came to mind, hating the feeling that he was somehow disappointing his mother but not willing to lie. An image flashed through his mind, friendly grins and newly-glowing eyes bright with affectionate respect. Sephiroth blinked, and looked at his mother with tentative hope. “Although… the new Thirds are progressing well, and some of them don’t seem to… fear me, the way many do.”
“Oh?” The way his mother’s expression perked up was gratifying. Sephiroth would consent to suffering Angeal’s meddlesome apprentice if relaying the experience eased his mother’s concerns. “Any names sticking out?”
“A few.” Sephiroth smiled at his mother, settling further into his seat as he considered the stories he could tell. New SOLDIERS could get into the most comically impossible situations. “There is one that I thank the Spirits every day chose SOLDIER, I daren’t think of what the Turks would have done had they gotten their hands on him. The other is Angeal’s apprentice, and he is rather like a puppy. So honestly enthusiastic to the point you feel guilty for scolding him for making messes.”
“These fellas have names?” Mother grinned as Sephiroth furrowed his brow. It was nice to hear about the kid making friends.
“Kunzel Bastion and Zachary Fair.” Sephiroth shook his head in resignation. “They’re the ringleaders behind much of the mischief the Thirds are getting up to recently. I despair to think of what they could accomplish together if they ever decided to use their talents seriously…”
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Does Kunzel have a real last name? Does anyone know? The wiki just called him Kunzel, so I made up a name for him. Also this is Sephiroth after seven years of war with Wutai, sabotaging SHIN-RA from within, and secretly living with Cid and Vincent after buisness hours are over. He's much more balanced and self aware than canon Sephiroth. Also adorable. Spirits, I cannot express with words how adorable Hindsight!Sephiroth is. I may melt. Like sugar in the rain.
My car died last Monday, leaving me somewhat stranded. I can get everywhere I need to in town on foot (I walk to work every day anyway. Same with the gorcery store. The bank is a bit more of a hike but not by much.) so it's not like I'm terribly inconvienienced, but I'm trying to get a new car. Luckily my mother loves me and is willing to co-sign with me. I'll miss Runaround, but he was ten years old and it was his time to go. Of course, if Runaround had chosen to let his broken spring explode anywhere other than in the mechanic's shop I would have died horribly, so I appreciate the restraint shown. It's a cup half full sort of situation.
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SIGN UP FOR MY HOLIDAY CARD EXCHANGE! I like the sparkles and opening the envelopes.
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HERE THERE BE DRAGONS!! (So there are a shitton of eggs I don't have yet. Most notably Coppers, Shimmerscale, and those funky Wyrm things. Standard trade rules apply. Donate an egg to my cause and get an update of your choice within 48 hours of the egg being received.)
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A Final Fantasy VII Fanfiction
Author: Sanjuno Shori Niko
Summary: Cid has a surprise for Sephiroth, and now the 22 year old only child needs to learn how to share.
Timeline: I know that non-linear narrative is confusing. Just go to the timeline.
=/=
(In which Sephiroth meets the triplets.)
For one of the first times in his life Sephiroth was finding it difficult to contain his excitement and remain patient. It was ridiculous. Here he was, a twenty-two year old war veteran SOLDIER Elite General, and he was acting like a child at Yule. Still, it had been two weeks since he had last heard from his parents and the horrible loneliness that had plagued his first fifteen years of life had left its mark on him. It was foolish, and Sephiroth was well aware he was being unwise. To have so much of his mental stability hinging on the well-being of two people was stupid. Just two people who, if Sephiroth were a normal human, no one would object to their importance in his life. Yet Sephiroth was not a normal man. Even if he were not Jotunar, even if he was not a member of a race long hidden from history, his parents were still fugitives hiding their survival from Shin-Ra. Should Shin-Ra discover his parents, should Hojo learn that Sephiroth had contact with them there was no telling what horrors would take place. Sephiroth’s father had already died by Hojo’s sadistic hand once before, there was no reason to risk it happening again. As for his mother… Sephiroth swallowed back bile at the too-vivid memory of hot red blood spreading on white fabric, pale skin growing chill before dissolving into glowing motes. Mother had suffered enough already. Sephiroth would burn the world down before allowing his mother to suffer one more nightmare.
Sephiroth was well aware that his mental state was… fragile. Seeing his mother die in front of his eyes at seven, having Hojo as his guardian for fifteen years, the shock of his parent’s resurrections… As glad as he had been when they found him, it was disconcerting when people returned to life without sufficient explanation. Learning that he was not, in the strictest sense, human… well. Sephiroth could be forgiven his little quirks in light of his background. As could his parents, rash and foolhardy as they were. Sephiroth often had to remind himself that his parents were well capable of taking care of themselves and were rational, intelligent adults… and then Sephiroth remembered that they entered an active warzone full of SOLDIERS and ninja with shoot-on-sight orders and secret commando terrorists just so that they could see him. After that, any attempt Sephiroth made to stay calm was doomed to spectacular failure. Despite the utter foolishness of the idea, his parents frequently went on mysterious trips. Trips that had often coincided with Hojo losing data, or a Shin-Ra operations being tampered with, or missing-in-action SOLDIERS finding themselves deposited in Sephiroth’s office like wayward puppies, and that sort of situation ended up being an exercise in creative reinterpretation of deployment papers and debriefing reports if nothing else.
Those SOLDIERS needed his parents help. Sephiroth was far too high profile to interfere directly and that knowledge was the only thing that kept Sephiroth from locking his parents away somewhere that they would be safe. There was no way to describe the revulsion that Sephiroth had felt when his parents had shown him the data on the DEEPGROUND facility. It was the only thing that allowed him to forgive them for taking the risks that they did. Sephiroth had been far too young to be a General. He knew that, even as he did his best to lead his men in Wutai, weathering Genesis’ jealously and Angeal’s patronizing attempts to play peacemaker. So he had felt absolutely no guilt for abusing the privileges of his rank. Keeping his parents informed of Unit 14’s whereabouts during the Wutai War had kept many of his SOLDIERS from being taken. Those that his parents had needed to rescue from Hojo’s labs… Sephiroth was stymied about how to help them. The best he could do was ensure that the fortified encampments in the Southern Islands remained undiscovered by official patrols. Those SOLDIERS that Sephiroth and his parents had gotten out of the labs… they were hurt, and scarred, but they were strong, and they would heal, and it was uniquely flattering when they took comfort in the rare visits that Sephiroth was able to make.
It was hard to do nothing, to simply watch, and wait, and be ready to take advantage of his enemy’s mistakes. The Planet was caught up in a tangled snarl of deceit and treachery and slowly seeping poison that was a full thousand years in the making. Finding their way free was going to take effort, and sacrifice, and the will to defy even the gods if that was what their victory took. Sephiroth smiled at that thought, his mind throwing up the image of messy spikes of black hair and laughing lavender-grey eyes that were taking on the bright violet glow of Independent Materia. SOLDIER Third Zachary Fair… it was a pity that Angeal had gotten to the young man before Sephiroth, but it was probably safer in the long run that Sephiroth avoided showing favouritism. Things like Hojo happened to the people who were important to Sephiroth, and Zachary did not deserve that sort of attention. Sephiroth sighed in resignation, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.
Mother had promised to bring him home a surprise if he was good while they were gone. Being unusually cryptic as to the goal of their mission but possessing a certain gleam of eye and curve of mouth that suggested anticipation and glee. It was a more intense version of the expression Mother wore just before something or someone who had run afoul of his mother’s not-inconsiderable temper exploded rather spectacularly. Sephiroth had wished them well, trying to hide his apprehension and not appreciating the lack of information, and then returned to SHIN-RA headquarters. Where he had spent the last month trying to distract himself with greater and lesser success with training, his fellow SOLDIERS, the Cadet Class nominations, and paperwork… but it was not until he received the all-clear message from his parents that Sephiroth was able to relax. The tension and worry that had stressed the General while his parents were gone had left, and the relief that showed in his SOLDIER’S faces when they noticed the upward shift in Sephiroth’s mood was both amusing and touching.
Angeal must have noticed something was amiss, because the man had taken a perverse sort of delight in inflicting Zachary’s company on Sephiroth. If the Third Class was not accompanying his mentor to meetings, Angeal was sending his student to bother Sephiroth when he was too busy with Genesis to do it himself. It was perhaps the only time Sephiroth appreciated Angeal’s meddling tendencies. Zachary was friends with everybody, even the Turks, and his best friend was another SOLDIER Third named Kunzel. Now Kunzel, that man was a veritable goldmine of clandestine information. Even Sephiroth would have had difficulty getting some of the information Kunzel provided on a regular basis. He would have to get Angeal something nice for Yule this year, Sephiroth mused, because with his unwitting contribution Sephiroth’s network had expanded in leaps and bounds.
Taking the usual round-about route from his place in the Shin-Ra housing complex to his parent’s home, Sephiroth added a few extra teleports and phase-steps to ease his current paranoia. If anyone had managed to plant a tracker on him without his knowledge then the transmitter would be well and truly fried. Any would-be spies would be chasing dead-end trails and sensor ghosts from one end of the Plate to another tonight.
Arriving home via teleport, Sephiroth stepped out of the circular hedge-wall that his parents had installed years ago for the express purpose of giving Sephiroth a safe place to teleport into. Any other child might have found that odd, but his parents had been the ones to teach Sephiroth how to fold space and what was a designated teleportation zone after that? The circle on the other side of the yard was for outgoing traffic. A simple setup, but there was no one outside of their small family with the ability to move as they did, so there was no need for anything more elaborate.
Sephiroth scanned the area as he crossed the lawn to the back door. He had not taken the time to put on more of a disguise than shape-shifting his hair black, but ten foot tall hedgerows were the norm for this neighbourhood, and they discouraged even the most avidly dedicated of curtain creepers from peeking in. The back door shut behind him, Sephiroth removed his boots and coat, sliding Masamune into its place on the weapon rack as he entered the living room.
“Mother? Father?” Sephiroth turned to look up the stairs, listening for the sound of footsteps. “I’m home. Where are you?”
“Up here, kiddo!” Mother’s voice was saturated with triumph and satisfaction, a vindictive glee that could shift without warning to something far more dangerous. “Come on up.”
“Yes, Mother.” Sephiroth did as his mother bid, well aware that his mother’s mercurial moods were not to be tempted. Father had gravely imparted that advice to a seventeen year old Sephiroth, and how it was best to just cater to those moods if one wanted to survive. Mother had promptly lodged a carving knife in the wall by Father’s head, ending the conversation but doing little to disprove the advice. The memory was forever imprinted in Sephiroth’s mind. Having reached the second floor, Sephiroth wondered, and not for the first time, why they needed such a large house for only three people who honestly spent little time at home.
“Sephiroth.” His father greeted the young General with a barely-there smile. “It’s good to see you so soon. Did you have any trouble getting away?”
“No trouble at all, Father. It is considered late for those who work regular hours.” Sephiroth gave his own faint smile, wondering how he could have both his father’s emotional containment and his mother’s explosive temper. Puberty had been an experience best left un-discussed. He was fortunate to have forgiving parents. “No one is expecting to see me until morning. I take it your… trip was successful?”
“Damn right it was fucking successful!” Sephiroth’s mother appeared in the doorway to on the unused bedrooms, grinning like a fiend and practically vibrating with excitement. “Gitcher ass in here and see fer yerself.”
Curious, Sephiroth glanced at his father for a hint. The older man just smiled, waving his son on. Sephiroth followed his mother into the room that had stood empty at the time of his last visit. There was furniture now. A small chest of drawers against one wall, a waist high desk with deep drawers and a padded top against the other. A rocking chair by the window, and dominating the center of the room was a large, round… bed? Pen? Adjustable bars wrapped around the mattress, and there was a section that obviously swung open like a gate.
Something was moving inside of the bars.
Sephiroth tilted his head to the side in confusion, glancing at his parents. Mother was still grinning wide, every tooth on display, and Father was smugly pleased. After a moment of consideration Sephiroth let his mother shoo him further into the room and closer to the pen. Squaring his shoulders, Sephiroth stepped the rest of the way up to the bars and looked in.
Three sets of glowing, Magic Materia green cat eyes looked back up at him from tiny faces topped with downy white baby hair. Sephiroth froze completely, his own eyes widening as his breath stilled in surprise.
“How?” The question was breathless. Sephiroth did not even dare blink, let alone speak at volume. “Who are they? They can’t. You weren’t. I thought they took more time to… you know.”
“We raided one’a that bastard Hojo’s labs.” Mother scooped up one of the infants with a chortle. “We weren’t about ta let him keep such cute little boys, now were we? No we weren’t!”
His mother appeared to have been addressing the question at the little boy. Sephiroth looked at the baby. Not having much experience with children, Sephiroth could only label it as ‘younger than the Cadets’. Sephiroth was well aware of how unhelpful that was. There were a great many growth stages between ‘newborn’ and ‘thirteen’, but Sephiroth had no clue what stage this particular infant was at.
“He looks like you.” Sephiroth had found his voice at last. That was not what he had been meaning to say, true as it was, but at least he was able to articulate properly once again. Spirits protect him from his Mother’s thrice-cursed surprises.
“What?” Mother blinked at Sephiroth before looking down at the baby he held. “Huh. Mebbe a bit in the bone structure, I guess. I wasn’t really lookin’, ta be honest.”
“They are your younger brothers.” Father finally took pity on his poor, confused (eldest) son. “The one your mother is holding is Loz, that one is Kadaj, and this one is Yazoo.”
As he gave Sephiroth his brother’s names, Father handed Kadaj to Sephiroth and lifted Yazoo into his own arms, being careful of his altered left forearm. Sephiroth could not help but notice that Yazoo more greatly resembled their father, while Kadaj did not look like either of their parents so much as he looked mostly like Sephiroth himself. It was tangible proof of belonging, of their shared origins.
“Hello Kadaj, Yazoo, and Loz.” Sephiroth smiled, feeling… softened somehow, but not in any weakening way. It was a ferocious sort of tenderness that filled him, and the Silver General thought he might understand an inkling of what had driven his parents to the lengths they had gone to in order to find him. His family was larger now, and oddly enough that made him happy. If asked yesterday, Sephiroth would not have thought he was capable of entertaining the thought of sharing his parent’s attentions and affections with any sort of grace, but these were his brothers. The word was a title, weighted with importance like Mother, like Father, and of a particular significance in Sephiroth’s mind. The tall SOLDIER shifted Kadaj in his arms to better mimic the way his parents held their own small bundles. “Welcome home, little brothers.”
Mother was pleased as a cat with cream, practically purring with joy, and Father’s expression held a tangible note of pride as he looked at his sons. Sephiroth wanted to hold on to this moment, curl up in it like he had never had the chance to curl up in his parents laps for comfort when he had still been small enough to fit.
“How old are they?” Sephiroth watched in fascination as Kadaj gripped his fingers in one small, chubby hand. He was so soft. Were all babies this soft?
“Two years, give or take.” Father smiled again as Yazoo solemnly inspected the handful of black hair he had grabbed and then contemplatively stuck the lock in his mouth. “We’ve been monitoring their development since Hojo started the Lazarus Project, and this was the soonest we could be certain of retrieving them safely.”
“They are what you have been hiding from me, these last few years.” Sephiroth did not even bother to make it a question. He was certain that he was right. “You were preoccupied with looking for them. You were searching for my little brothers each time you left.”
“… Yeah. I guess it’s a bit obvious in hindsight, huh?” Mother’s expression faded into something sad as he looked down at Loz, stroking a tender finger over the curve of a soft cheek.
“Yes. You do not like to leave me alone in Midgar. You are paranoid that Hojo may hide me away while you are gone. In the past, you have always told me where you were going and what your mission goals were so that I would never be left in the dark. After we returned from Wutai you have tended to go out separately, one remaining behind here to watch over me while the other took the most recovered of our rescued SOLDIERS as backup.” How he loathed that. Having either of his parents out of his reach grated. Being the one protected rubbed against the grain of his pride, and Sephiroth hated being helpless to do anything but endure the wait. “Yet in recent years you have both gone away together more frequently, particularly in this last year. I have said nothing because I know you only wish to keep me safe, and I trusted that you would tell me the whole of the truth once you were certain of it. I did not wish to add to your worry.”
“I apologise if we worried you unduly. It was not our intent to hide our actions from you.” Father’s voice was quiet but sincere, and Sephiroth took comfort from the familiar deep tones. “We were unsure as to the full extent of Hojo’s plans, and we were further still unsure of how long his patience would last. If this project had failed to hold his attention long enough for the triplets to reach a stable point…”
“We’ve been goin’ outta our damned minds with worry.” Mother admitted, pulling Loz closer in an overly protective gesture. “It was hell, waitin’ fer the babies to git healthy enough ta travel, hopin’ that fucker wasn’t gonna hurt ‘em someway we couldn’t fix and knowin’ that we couldn’t do nothin’ about it ‘til they were strong enough ta leave the labs…”
“… Hojo’s plans?” Sephiroth frowned, securing his hold on Kadaj as the boy squirmed in a determined effort to climb up his brother’s jacket. “What was he going to do to my brothers?”
“Fuck kiddo, ya know that old bastard ain’t ever gonna be satisfied. He’s always been workin’ on his grand plan fer an army of ‘perfect’ SOLDIERS.” Mother shook his head, eyes bleak as he looked at his children. “… I don’t wanna talk about this in here. It ain’t proper conversation fer a baby nursery. Let’s git ‘em put down and we kin tell ya the rest downstairs.”
It took a few minutes to complete that task. Yazoo went to bed without much of a fuss, but Kadaj had to be untangled from Sephiroth’s hair and Loz needed his diaper changed. Sephiroth was woefully unprepared for the complexities of infant care, and he could only hope that his parents did not expect him to be of much use until he had gotten the proper training in. Finally, all three boys were bedded down together in their oversized crib, little faces lax in sleep. Sephiroth followed his parents’ example and remained silent as they crept down the stairs.
“So where was I?” Mother flopped down on the couch, exhaustion evident in the lose sprawl of limbs. Father checked the curtains, making sure they were properly drawn. It was a trait Sephiroth shared with the older man, the need to pacify paranoia was strong, and the act of securing their safety was almost meditative after a certain point.
“Hojo.” Sephiroth sat opposite his mother, leaning forward as his father took a seat by his mother on the couch. “You said he had plans… another project that involved me and my brothers?”
“Ah, right.” Mother paused, looking blankly into the distance. Father pulled mother into his arms, eyes dark with old nightmares despite the Summons-bright shine. Mother swallowed back pain and sank back against Father’s chest. “So a few years back yer dad and I heard tell that Hojo was tryin’ his hand at re-creatin’ ya.”
Sephiroth snorted, and his father hid a smile in Mother’s hair at the sight of the general’s indignant expression.
“Yeah, I know that it ain’t really news. Fucker’s stubborn as a tick.” Mother grimaced, no doubt recalling unpleasant memories, but that did not prevent him from speaking. “Hojo started off with clonin’. I figure he wanted ta try and skip the whole childhood thing.”
“… Obviously he did not succeed.” Sephiroth was horrified and furious and feeling unavoidably violated.
“Only to a point.” Father shrugged, an eloquent gesture, and spread his hands open in response to Sephiroth’s indignant look. “In the most literal sense of the term, that is to say that on a physical and basic genetic level, Hojo did succeed in producing a dozen or so duplicates of you.”
“Why did you not tell me?” Sephiroth felt sick, futilely betrayed. “You just left them there?”
“There would have been no purpose to the risk of it. The information could only hurt you, and in truth there was nothing to save.” Father’s voice was firm, his gaze direct as he looked seriously at Sephiroth. “There was no life to them. No mind, no soul. They were sacks of meat, incapable of so much as breathing without mechanical assistance. The hairs you shed into your brush were more alive than they.”
“Oh. Then…” Sephiroth took a deep breath, trying to find his calm. It was not his father’s fault that Hojo was a monster. “What about the three upstairs? Are they so different because they started as infants?”
“Yeah. The first round weren’t nothin’ more’n dolls. We didn’t feel too bad about lettin’ Hojo play with ‘em as long as it kept him distracted from messin’ with ya. Those babies upstairs though…” Mother shifted uncomfortably, shrinking back into Father’s body like he was trying to hide away. Sephiroth hated that. Hated the proof that his parents had suffered as much or more than he had. “Hojo… well. We’ve told ya about how he was involved in us havin’ ya. We didn’t know that when he had us in the lab fer breedin’ that he… saved some’ve our reproductive materials. Since the adult clones weren’t workin’, he decided ta start over from the beginnin’. Those three’re the only ones that survived Hojo’s dickin’ around with ‘em. Lucky fer us, Hojo don’t know that we’re alive, so it was easy ta track him and be ready ta snatch the kids once he was outta the way. We spread the sabotage around and made it look like an inside job. Fucker’s gonna be so busy rantin’ about contaminated projects and lost data and figurin’ out who ta blame fer what that he won’t be focusin’ on anythin’ else fer a while.”
“Sabotage?” Sephiroth raised a silver eyebrow upon seeing his mother’s vicious smirk. “What exactly did you do?”
“Hojo sticks with fuckin’ SHIN-RA because it gives ‘im money and protection and resources.” Mother’s grin went feral with savage delight. “Nobody likes him though, and upper management’s a pit a vipers. There‘re enemies everywhere. So when three a his labs get blown ta pieces and it looks like an inside job he ain’t got a blind man’s chance at a hustler’s dart competition of findin’ out who the real culprit is.”
“Logically, Hojo is far more likely to suspect the other department heads of being responsible for the act and assume that they are trying to discredit him than he is to recall the existence of two ‘destroyed’ specimens.” Father examined his left hand with care, flexing the brass claws slowly.
“That was you.” Sephiroth covered his eyes and groaned. “Hojo has been running the TURKS and SOLDIER both ragged trying to find ones responsible. President Shinra is blaming terrorists and Wutai and is fully supporting Hojo’s wasting of our time and resources on this nonsense.”
“Sorry kiddo.” Mother flapped a hand in dismissal and apology. “Yer on yer own with that fer now. Hell, pick someone ya don’t like much and cook up some circumstantial evidence that’ll pin the blame on ‘em. That should make ya feel better.”
“You mean for me to pit my enemies against each other.” Sephiroth leaned back in his chair, eyes half closed as he pictured it. “That does sound like a pleasant distraction.”
“That’s my boy.” Mother’s tone was proud and fond as he reached out to pat Sephiroth’s knee. “Now tell me how things have been going for you. Meet anyone special yet?”
His mother’s eyes were gleaming dangerously, and Sephiroth darted a pleading look at his father, only to find the older man casually looking away, for all appearances completely absorbed in the silk painting mounted on the far wall. There would be no help found there.
“No, just paperwork.” Sephiroth blurted the first thing that came to mind, hating the feeling that he was somehow disappointing his mother but not willing to lie. An image flashed through his mind, friendly grins and newly-glowing eyes bright with affectionate respect. Sephiroth blinked, and looked at his mother with tentative hope. “Although… the new Thirds are progressing well, and some of them don’t seem to… fear me, the way many do.”
“Oh?” The way his mother’s expression perked up was gratifying. Sephiroth would consent to suffering Angeal’s meddlesome apprentice if relaying the experience eased his mother’s concerns. “Any names sticking out?”
“A few.” Sephiroth smiled at his mother, settling further into his seat as he considered the stories he could tell. New SOLDIERS could get into the most comically impossible situations. “There is one that I thank the Spirits every day chose SOLDIER, I daren’t think of what the Turks would have done had they gotten their hands on him. The other is Angeal’s apprentice, and he is rather like a puppy. So honestly enthusiastic to the point you feel guilty for scolding him for making messes.”
“These fellas have names?” Mother grinned as Sephiroth furrowed his brow. It was nice to hear about the kid making friends.
“Kunzel Bastion and Zachary Fair.” Sephiroth shook his head in resignation. “They’re the ringleaders behind much of the mischief the Thirds are getting up to recently. I despair to think of what they could accomplish together if they ever decided to use their talents seriously…”
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Does Kunzel have a real last name? Does anyone know? The wiki just called him Kunzel, so I made up a name for him. Also this is Sephiroth after seven years of war with Wutai, sabotaging SHIN-RA from within, and secretly living with Cid and Vincent after buisness hours are over. He's much more balanced and self aware than canon Sephiroth. Also adorable. Spirits, I cannot express with words how adorable Hindsight!Sephiroth is. I may melt. Like sugar in the rain.
My car died last Monday, leaving me somewhat stranded. I can get everywhere I need to in town on foot (I walk to work every day anyway. Same with the gorcery store. The bank is a bit more of a hike but not by much.) so it's not like I'm terribly inconvienienced, but I'm trying to get a new car. Luckily my mother loves me and is willing to co-sign with me. I'll miss Runaround, but he was ten years old and it was his time to go. Of course, if Runaround had chosen to let his broken spring explode anywhere other than in the mechanic's shop I would have died horribly, so I appreciate the restraint shown. It's a cup half full sort of situation.
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SIGN UP FOR MY HOLIDAY CARD EXCHANGE! I like the sparkles and opening the envelopes.
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HERE THERE BE DRAGONS!! (So there are a shitton of eggs I don't have yet. Most notably Coppers, Shimmerscale, and those funky Wyrm things. Standard trade rules apply. Donate an egg to my cause and get an update of your choice within 48 hours of the egg being received.)
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