The Fifth Act, Chapter 20
Title: The Fifth Act
Rating: T for violence.
Summary: FFVII Time-travel. Gen. Cloud has an accident with a Time Materia.
Author's Note: First chapter of 2010, yay!
Previous Chapter
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The Fifth Act Chapter 20
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“Strife!” Cloud paused as he left the briefing room. Angeal came down the hallway towards him, followed closely by Genesis.
One look at their faces, and he was suddenly struck by a terrible feeling that his afternoon plans of haunting the Training Room were about to change.
“What is it?”
“You finished your missions for the day?”
“Yes,” he answered guardedly. “But-”
They didn’t give him a chance to finish. “In that case, come with us.” Then Genesis had a hand on his shoulder and Angeal flanked him from the other side and Cloud found himself being steered towards the elevator.
“Where to?” He gave in to the gentle pressure, mostly out of confusion.
“It’s a surprise,” Genesis declared.
“It’s not a Loveless play, is it?” He’d been treated to more than a few impromptu recitals during his time at ShinRa.
“At this time of day? Don’t be absurd. Just be patient and you’ll see.”
Ominous words. But then, he’d become used to Zack dragging him around at his whim, so he followed along quietly as Angeal jammed the button for the parking garages. His stomach lurched as the elevator dropped.
“How far are we going?” ShinRa didn’t usually deploy vehicles for anything less than either the top brass or a journey more than half a day’s march from Midgar. Thinking on it, though, Angeal and Genesis probably counted as top brass.
“It won’t take long,” was Genesis’s non-answer. The elevator dinged open, and the two SOLDIERs corralled him towards one of the sleek black vans. “We should be back before dark. Probably.”
Which could mean as far as Kalm, in a van.
Wait. The van.
He stopped short. “Why is Sephiroth in there?”
Genesis stared at him as though he’d sprouted tentacles. “How the hell do you know that? Can you smell him?”
“Genesis!” Angeal warned. “You’ll give it away!”
Too late - Cloud already knew. Paranoia gripped him. Had ShinRa cottoned on to his plans? Were they going to spirit him out into the wastes and finally do away with him?
“He’s going to bolt! Plan B!”
Just as he turned to flee, Genesis caught his shoulder, Angeal quickly manoeuvring to block his escape. His hand reached for his sword, but Angeal caught his wrist, and tugged the blade free before he could. “Genesis!”
The slender First enveloped him in a bear hug from behind, pinning his arms to his sides, while the black-haired Commander retreated with First Tsurugi in hand. Cloud snarled, kicking out wildly, but his captor tugged him back before his boots could connect with anything. “Angeal, you’re going to have to drive!”
“Got it!”
“Sephiroth, the door!”
The van door rolled open, and Cloud panicked. Genesis swore under his breath as his struggles grew violent, and tightened his grasp to the point where Cloud started to have trouble breathing. Still he wrenched from side to side, trying to throw the taller SOLDIER off, but Genesis had technique, grabbing him in such a way that he couldn’t get the leverage to break away with strength alone. For the first time in a long while, he cursed his average height. It had been some time since brute force alone hadn’t been enough.
“A little help here!” Genesis grunted as the van engine roared to life.
Sephiroth grabbed his kicking ankles, his grip crushing. Between the two of them, they hauled him into the back of the van, the door slammed shut, and it lurched forward, heading for the exit tunnel Cloud faintly remembered from his mental blueprint of ShinRa headquarters.
With the leverage provided by Genesis at his back, his kicked again, trying to dislodge Sephiroth’s hands from his legs. A wave of magic washed over him, leaving his skin tingling and Ribbon warm. “Sleep doesn’t work either?” Genesis complained.
“This is ridiculous,” Sephiroth scoffed, released his ankles, and then Cloud abruptly stilled, terrifyingly aware of the edge of cold steel hovering just above his throat.
“Sephiroth!” Genesis hissed.
“He refuses to calm down,” he said by explanation. Cloud didn’t dare breathe, chin tilted towards the ceiling and eyes darting about, looking for something, anything, he could use as a weapon. “He’s going to make us crash.”
“And you think holding him at sword-point will make him calm down?” Genesis snarled, but Cloud didn’t make a sound, keeping his breathing shallow and steady, even as he inwardly cursed his weakness.
“What the hell is going on back there?” Angeal yelled from the front.
“I advise you to drive carefully, Angeal,” Sephiroth purred. “We wouldn’t want my sword to slip due to any unexpected bumps.”
“And then you wonder why Cloud attacks you at every opportunity,” Genesis snapped, “When your solution to every difficulty is to hold it at sword point. How typically Third Class of you.”
“Sephiroth, this van isn’t big enough for that thing! Put it away!” Angeal ordered from the front.
Genesis pulled Cloud even further back, his grip so tight the blond felt his ribs might crack. He developed a sudden an appreciation for Nanaki’s grumbling over Yuffie’s sometimes-overenthusiastic hugs.
They remained at an impasse for a long moment, Cloud’s shallow breaths echoing harshly in the interior, before Sephiroth lowered Masamune and reclined in his seat, sword held flat across his knees. “It was just a little joke.”
“You have a bad sense of humour,” Genesis growled. He still didn’t release Cloud from his stranglehold, and the blond squirmed in place uncomfortably.
“Let me go,” he murmured.
Genesis hummed low in his throat. “I don’t know. Are you capable of sitting quietly?”
“We’re already moving, aren’t we?” The van had picked up speed once Angeal saw Masamune removed from the picture.
Sephiroth regarded him with a dry smirk. “With you, Cloud, I sometimes wonder if you wouldn’t throw yourself from a moving vehicle to get away from me.”
Cloud had been considering just that. He glowered, even as his heart jumped in his chest. Sephiroth couldn’t read his mind, he couldn’t. The best he could make were clever guesses.
Yet still the paranoia clung to him. Moments when he nearly broke down, asking for a number, clamouring for Reunion. The weight of black materia resting in his palm.
“You have his sword up there, Angeal?” Genesis asked.
“Right here!” Cloud couldn’t see well enough to make sure, but the reassurance that First Tsurugi was still in the vicinity, even if not immediately in reach, went some distance in calming the adrenaline rush in his veins.
“In that case…” The death grip pinning his arms to his sides loosened. Cloud shifted onto the seat next to Genesis, rubbing his neck self-consciously, and very deliberately avoiding looking at Sephiroth. His palms itched, throbbing in time with the phantom pain in his chest.
“I figure you’re not likely to jump out of the van if it means leaving your sword behind,” Genesis explained airily, though nobody asked.
“Are you going to tell me what this is all about yet?” Cloud grumbled. While he had plenty of experience with Sephiroth skewering him quite casually, thinking rationally, he doubted Genesis and Angeal would be so relaxed if they had anything truly dire planned.
“I wanted to apologise,” Sephiroth said.
He finally raised his gaze to risk looking the General in the eyes. His face was the most neutral Cloud could remember it being, and for one moment, he could almost hear the echo of a question, asking him about his hometown.
No. He couldn’t start thinking like that. His fingers curled into fists on his knees. “This is your idea of an apology?”
“Not at all. This is just the first time I’ve had you as a captive audience long enough to offer one,” Sephiroth stated plainly. “While I do not understand, my last comment appeared to cause you distress. It was not my intention.”
Cloud could only stare at him, unable to comprehend the notion of Sephiroth saying sorry. Sephiroth, who took pleasure in destroying anything he cherished. Sephiroth, who taunted him for his weakness every time they met.
“I’m not a puppet,” he mumbled, mostly to himself.
Genesis sighed. “As I keep saying, this would all go so much more smoothly if you would simply tell us what your problem with Sephiroth is, you know.”
Cloud glowered at his feet. He could never explain. They’d just react the same as Vincent. They didn’t know Sephiroth the way he did. They didn’t know what he could become.
He envied them for it.
“I’m sure Cloud will share his thoughts with us eventually,” Sephiroth remarked, still cradling Masamune in his lap. “I am willing to be patient.”
“As if. You’re the most anxious to know of all of us,” Genesis scoffed. “Angeal, how long until we get there?”
“Are you kidding me? We only just got onto the highway!”
“Now who is the impatient one?” Sephiroth asked.
The trio bantered back and forth for several minutes while Cloud remained silent, watching the exchange with bright eyes. These men had been legends in his youth, and to see them talk about trivial matters in the same manner as the boys in his troop used to… it left him with a weird feeling. He hunched in on himself, wishing for at least a window so he could occupy his attention with the scenery instead. How could they talk normally like that, when Sephiroth had been holding him at sword-point mere moments before?
It must have been a common scenario. And somehow that didn’t tip ShinRa off to how dangerous their star SOLDIER was?
Although Cloud had to begrudgingly admit that he’d pointed First Tsurugi at the Turks that way before… and Rufus… and sometimes the odd rowdy bar patron… and Barrett, that one time he’d been firing his gun arm off for no reason at all. But everybody knew he wouldn’t kill anyone in cold blood. Sephiroth, on the other hand, had made sport of it.
Eventually, the conversation died off, and Genesis took out a beaten leather-bound book and began reciting Loveless.
“When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end,
The goddess descends from the sky
Wings of light and dark spread afar,
She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting...”
Cloud let the familiar words roll over him. Idly, he noted that this was the longest amount of time he’d managed to stay in Sephiroth’s presence since he found himself in the past.
Probably the longest time he’d endured Sephiroth’s presence since that ill-fated mission to Nibelheim, actually.
Gaia, he hated travelling by car. It wasn’t even the memory of motion sickness anymore - it just gave him too much time to think.
“…My Soul corrupted by vengeance,
Hath endured torment,
To find the end of the journey in my own salvation.
And Your eternal slumber…”
“Here should be far enough,” Angeal interrupted. The van lurched to a halt.
“What a relief,” Sephiroth drawled. “If we reached the fifth act, we may have been forced into a discussion.”
Genesis tossed his head in a practiced act of disregard. “I wonder, Sephiroth, what ending you would choose.”
“I wonder,” Sephiroth echoed, then opened the door, flooding the van with harsh light.
Cloud blinked. They were in the wastes. Not that far from Midgar - still close enough that they couldn’t see the far edges of the city walls. He clambered out, anxious to get into the open where he could manoeuvre more freely.
Angeal hauled First Tsurugi from the front of the van with him, bereft of materia, and handed it to him. “I left the materia on the passenger seat,” he explained. “Swords only. Odin knows you two do enough damage just with those.”
Uncomprehending, he grasped the proffered hilt. “What…?”
Experimentally, Sephiroth swished Masamune in the air a few times, catching the sunlight with the tip. Satisfied, he lowered it to his side, not brandished, but at the ready none-the-less. “Let us begin.”
Were they really suggesting what he thought they were? “I signed a contract…” he began haltingly.
Genesis rolled his eyes. “We’re here to fight, not kill.”
“Out here, you two can swing swords at each other for as long as you want. You know how to spar, Strife. Sephiroth wants a good challenge, and you get a chance to work out your frustrations,” Angeal explained.
“A challenge?” He didn’t get it. What a pointless reason to fight. He’d stopped caring about that sort of thing when Nibelheim burned and his dreams went with it.
He stopped caring about a lot of things after Nibelheim.
“You want to fight, don’t you?” Genesis asked bluntly.
Cloud frowned. “Not really.” Wanting to kill Sephiroth before he could commit atrocities and fighting the man were two separate issues in his mind. Fighting was only a means to an end.
Angeal rolled his eyes and gave him a little push. “Just do it as a personal favour then. But remember - no killing!”
Miffed, he raised First Tsurugi into a guard. Sephiroth brandished Masamune in turn, and Genesis and Angeal retreated a safe distance.
A spar, huh? He supposed he could use the practice.
…………………….
The air shivered with the ringing clash of swords. Masamune swung in a wide arc, Strife ducked, struck back, and Sephiroth practically floated away. They flew across the barren wastes, kicking up dust and leaving gouged earth in their wake.
“Do you really think we’ll be able to react quickly enough if it turns deadly?” Angeal asked, watching the swords flashing with interest. Strife had switched to two blades again. Must be nice to be ambidextrous.
“Nothing short of a beheading will kill either of them fast enough. I brought a FullCure.” Genesis held aloft the materia as proof.
Angeal grunted in acknowledgement, attention fixed on the battle. They covered an impressive amount of distance as they dodged and parried - he felt tired just watching. Hopefully their path would bring them back their way soon, otherwise they’d be too far out to act, even with a FullCure on hand.
They watched in silence for a little longer. "His movements are becoming more fluid."
"He's stopped being afraid," Genesis noted. "Whenever he fought before, his movements were jerky and desperate."
"Confidence can make a big difference," Angeal agreed. "People do amazing things when they overcome their fear and stop thinking." Not that Strife needed to be any more amazing. The blond struck down against Sephiroth’s block. His friend didn’t budge an inch, but the sound of the impact made his teeth hurt. They sprang apart again.
Strife’s movements were definitely growing more natural - his attention didn’t dart all over the place, and he retreated less often. One opening kept appearing, though - his unprotected shoulder. He normally covered it too quickly for Sephiroth to take advantage, but its repeated appearance made Angeal wonder. A flaw in his fighting style, or something else? Why did Strife only ever wear the one shoulder guard? His suspicions were beginning to buzz again in the back of his brain.
He rolled his neck, checking the position of the sun crawling across the sky. They’d been at it for nearly an hour already. Didn’t look like the ruckus had drawn anyone’s attention, thankfully - Midgar’s walls in the distance remained empty of visible observers, and no helicopters wheeled through the vast open blue.
"This doesn't look good," Genesis said suddenly.
Angeal refocused. He’d missed something. Sephiroth crashed to the ground, landing off-balance. Strife followed, striking down. Masamune parried, but the force of the blow rung in their ears. The tip of the katana gouged into the dirt, knocked askew.
In that instant, Sephiroth was left wide open.
His feet pounded across the ground before his thoughts had the chance to catch up. “Genesis!”
He could hear his friend, fumbling with his materia, following several steps behind. Ifrit, why did they have to be so far away? They should have kept pace, stayed closer to the fight!
Strife’s sword flashed in the afternoon sunlight. Closer. He drew his broadsword.
The angle was wrong - he wasn’t going to get there in time! "Stop!" Desperately, he threw himself between them, sword raised high to catch First Tsurugi’s blow.
Pain blossomed in his side.
Strife stared at him, bright blue eyes wide. Angeal dropped to a knee. The Buster-style sword swam in the edge of his vision, silvery surface clean of blood.
"Angeal." Sephiroth whispered from behind.
He understood then. Strife had done what they never expected, and pulled back from what would have been a deadly strike.
Sephiroth hadn't believed he would, and swung blindly to save his own life.
“Angeal!” Genesis caught up.
"Just a scratch," he announced, pushing himself to his feet, arm pressed hard against his side. "Nothing to worry about." Not entirely a lie - it was just a flesh wound, but why wasn’t the mako taking care of it? His entire body felt like it was burning. He forced a chuckle. “We have to stop ending our spars this way.”
Genesis and Strife exchanged a significant glance, some silent communication passing between them in that instant, before Strife shook his head. His friend’s face darkened, and he turned to him, FullCure brandished. “At least let me heal it. You’re bleeding.”
“Don’t-” Too late. The green wash of curative magic flowed over him. The bleeding slowed, but didn’t stop. “-waste your energy. I’ll just wrap it in the van. Mako will take care of the rest.” Except the usual tingling he felt around his scratches and bruises remained curiously absent. He straightened, and started walking to the van parked some distance away, being careful to resist the urge to limp to ease the tug on his side.
“Angeal, I-” Sephiroth began.
“Save it!” He called back. “Accidents happen.” Then, with forced cheer that would have made even Zack the Puppy proud, remarked, “That fight was really something! Better not let the higher-ups get a wind of it, or you might get stuck doing exhibition matches for the rest of your careers.” Unfortunately, the effort at humour fell flat, as Sephiroth and Genesis remained still, the flapping of their leather coats in the dry wind his only response.
The stalemate broke. “I’ll drive.” Strife glided past him like a purple wraith. For a second, they’d almost forgotten he was still there.
Sephiroth and Genesis fell into step behind him then, neither commenting on his slow gait back to their transport. Strife had retrieved his materia and settled into the driver’s seat by the time they got there. The engine roared to life as the trio clambered into the back, and was already moving by the time Sephiroth slammed the door closed.
Angeal settled in for the long, silent ride back, and did his best to ignore his friends’ concerned stares.
Next chapter
Rating: T for violence.
Summary: FFVII Time-travel. Gen. Cloud has an accident with a Time Materia.
Author's Note: First chapter of 2010, yay!
Previous Chapter
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The Fifth Act Chapter 20
__________________
“Strife!” Cloud paused as he left the briefing room. Angeal came down the hallway towards him, followed closely by Genesis.
One look at their faces, and he was suddenly struck by a terrible feeling that his afternoon plans of haunting the Training Room were about to change.
“What is it?”
“You finished your missions for the day?”
“Yes,” he answered guardedly. “But-”
They didn’t give him a chance to finish. “In that case, come with us.” Then Genesis had a hand on his shoulder and Angeal flanked him from the other side and Cloud found himself being steered towards the elevator.
“Where to?” He gave in to the gentle pressure, mostly out of confusion.
“It’s a surprise,” Genesis declared.
“It’s not a Loveless play, is it?” He’d been treated to more than a few impromptu recitals during his time at ShinRa.
“At this time of day? Don’t be absurd. Just be patient and you’ll see.”
Ominous words. But then, he’d become used to Zack dragging him around at his whim, so he followed along quietly as Angeal jammed the button for the parking garages. His stomach lurched as the elevator dropped.
“How far are we going?” ShinRa didn’t usually deploy vehicles for anything less than either the top brass or a journey more than half a day’s march from Midgar. Thinking on it, though, Angeal and Genesis probably counted as top brass.
“It won’t take long,” was Genesis’s non-answer. The elevator dinged open, and the two SOLDIERs corralled him towards one of the sleek black vans. “We should be back before dark. Probably.”
Which could mean as far as Kalm, in a van.
Wait. The van.
He stopped short. “Why is Sephiroth in there?”
Genesis stared at him as though he’d sprouted tentacles. “How the hell do you know that? Can you smell him?”
“Genesis!” Angeal warned. “You’ll give it away!”
Too late - Cloud already knew. Paranoia gripped him. Had ShinRa cottoned on to his plans? Were they going to spirit him out into the wastes and finally do away with him?
“He’s going to bolt! Plan B!”
Just as he turned to flee, Genesis caught his shoulder, Angeal quickly manoeuvring to block his escape. His hand reached for his sword, but Angeal caught his wrist, and tugged the blade free before he could. “Genesis!”
The slender First enveloped him in a bear hug from behind, pinning his arms to his sides, while the black-haired Commander retreated with First Tsurugi in hand. Cloud snarled, kicking out wildly, but his captor tugged him back before his boots could connect with anything. “Angeal, you’re going to have to drive!”
“Got it!”
“Sephiroth, the door!”
The van door rolled open, and Cloud panicked. Genesis swore under his breath as his struggles grew violent, and tightened his grasp to the point where Cloud started to have trouble breathing. Still he wrenched from side to side, trying to throw the taller SOLDIER off, but Genesis had technique, grabbing him in such a way that he couldn’t get the leverage to break away with strength alone. For the first time in a long while, he cursed his average height. It had been some time since brute force alone hadn’t been enough.
“A little help here!” Genesis grunted as the van engine roared to life.
Sephiroth grabbed his kicking ankles, his grip crushing. Between the two of them, they hauled him into the back of the van, the door slammed shut, and it lurched forward, heading for the exit tunnel Cloud faintly remembered from his mental blueprint of ShinRa headquarters.
With the leverage provided by Genesis at his back, his kicked again, trying to dislodge Sephiroth’s hands from his legs. A wave of magic washed over him, leaving his skin tingling and Ribbon warm. “Sleep doesn’t work either?” Genesis complained.
“This is ridiculous,” Sephiroth scoffed, released his ankles, and then Cloud abruptly stilled, terrifyingly aware of the edge of cold steel hovering just above his throat.
“Sephiroth!” Genesis hissed.
“He refuses to calm down,” he said by explanation. Cloud didn’t dare breathe, chin tilted towards the ceiling and eyes darting about, looking for something, anything, he could use as a weapon. “He’s going to make us crash.”
“And you think holding him at sword-point will make him calm down?” Genesis snarled, but Cloud didn’t make a sound, keeping his breathing shallow and steady, even as he inwardly cursed his weakness.
“What the hell is going on back there?” Angeal yelled from the front.
“I advise you to drive carefully, Angeal,” Sephiroth purred. “We wouldn’t want my sword to slip due to any unexpected bumps.”
“And then you wonder why Cloud attacks you at every opportunity,” Genesis snapped, “When your solution to every difficulty is to hold it at sword point. How typically Third Class of you.”
“Sephiroth, this van isn’t big enough for that thing! Put it away!” Angeal ordered from the front.
Genesis pulled Cloud even further back, his grip so tight the blond felt his ribs might crack. He developed a sudden an appreciation for Nanaki’s grumbling over Yuffie’s sometimes-overenthusiastic hugs.
They remained at an impasse for a long moment, Cloud’s shallow breaths echoing harshly in the interior, before Sephiroth lowered Masamune and reclined in his seat, sword held flat across his knees. “It was just a little joke.”
“You have a bad sense of humour,” Genesis growled. He still didn’t release Cloud from his stranglehold, and the blond squirmed in place uncomfortably.
“Let me go,” he murmured.
Genesis hummed low in his throat. “I don’t know. Are you capable of sitting quietly?”
“We’re already moving, aren’t we?” The van had picked up speed once Angeal saw Masamune removed from the picture.
Sephiroth regarded him with a dry smirk. “With you, Cloud, I sometimes wonder if you wouldn’t throw yourself from a moving vehicle to get away from me.”
Cloud had been considering just that. He glowered, even as his heart jumped in his chest. Sephiroth couldn’t read his mind, he couldn’t. The best he could make were clever guesses.
Yet still the paranoia clung to him. Moments when he nearly broke down, asking for a number, clamouring for Reunion. The weight of black materia resting in his palm.
“You have his sword up there, Angeal?” Genesis asked.
“Right here!” Cloud couldn’t see well enough to make sure, but the reassurance that First Tsurugi was still in the vicinity, even if not immediately in reach, went some distance in calming the adrenaline rush in his veins.
“In that case…” The death grip pinning his arms to his sides loosened. Cloud shifted onto the seat next to Genesis, rubbing his neck self-consciously, and very deliberately avoiding looking at Sephiroth. His palms itched, throbbing in time with the phantom pain in his chest.
“I figure you’re not likely to jump out of the van if it means leaving your sword behind,” Genesis explained airily, though nobody asked.
“Are you going to tell me what this is all about yet?” Cloud grumbled. While he had plenty of experience with Sephiroth skewering him quite casually, thinking rationally, he doubted Genesis and Angeal would be so relaxed if they had anything truly dire planned.
“I wanted to apologise,” Sephiroth said.
He finally raised his gaze to risk looking the General in the eyes. His face was the most neutral Cloud could remember it being, and for one moment, he could almost hear the echo of a question, asking him about his hometown.
No. He couldn’t start thinking like that. His fingers curled into fists on his knees. “This is your idea of an apology?”
“Not at all. This is just the first time I’ve had you as a captive audience long enough to offer one,” Sephiroth stated plainly. “While I do not understand, my last comment appeared to cause you distress. It was not my intention.”
Cloud could only stare at him, unable to comprehend the notion of Sephiroth saying sorry. Sephiroth, who took pleasure in destroying anything he cherished. Sephiroth, who taunted him for his weakness every time they met.
“I’m not a puppet,” he mumbled, mostly to himself.
Genesis sighed. “As I keep saying, this would all go so much more smoothly if you would simply tell us what your problem with Sephiroth is, you know.”
Cloud glowered at his feet. He could never explain. They’d just react the same as Vincent. They didn’t know Sephiroth the way he did. They didn’t know what he could become.
He envied them for it.
“I’m sure Cloud will share his thoughts with us eventually,” Sephiroth remarked, still cradling Masamune in his lap. “I am willing to be patient.”
“As if. You’re the most anxious to know of all of us,” Genesis scoffed. “Angeal, how long until we get there?”
“Are you kidding me? We only just got onto the highway!”
“Now who is the impatient one?” Sephiroth asked.
The trio bantered back and forth for several minutes while Cloud remained silent, watching the exchange with bright eyes. These men had been legends in his youth, and to see them talk about trivial matters in the same manner as the boys in his troop used to… it left him with a weird feeling. He hunched in on himself, wishing for at least a window so he could occupy his attention with the scenery instead. How could they talk normally like that, when Sephiroth had been holding him at sword-point mere moments before?
It must have been a common scenario. And somehow that didn’t tip ShinRa off to how dangerous their star SOLDIER was?
Although Cloud had to begrudgingly admit that he’d pointed First Tsurugi at the Turks that way before… and Rufus… and sometimes the odd rowdy bar patron… and Barrett, that one time he’d been firing his gun arm off for no reason at all. But everybody knew he wouldn’t kill anyone in cold blood. Sephiroth, on the other hand, had made sport of it.
Eventually, the conversation died off, and Genesis took out a beaten leather-bound book and began reciting Loveless.
“When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end,
The goddess descends from the sky
Wings of light and dark spread afar,
She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting...”
Cloud let the familiar words roll over him. Idly, he noted that this was the longest amount of time he’d managed to stay in Sephiroth’s presence since he found himself in the past.
Probably the longest time he’d endured Sephiroth’s presence since that ill-fated mission to Nibelheim, actually.
Gaia, he hated travelling by car. It wasn’t even the memory of motion sickness anymore - it just gave him too much time to think.
“…My Soul corrupted by vengeance,
Hath endured torment,
To find the end of the journey in my own salvation.
And Your eternal slumber…”
“Here should be far enough,” Angeal interrupted. The van lurched to a halt.
“What a relief,” Sephiroth drawled. “If we reached the fifth act, we may have been forced into a discussion.”
Genesis tossed his head in a practiced act of disregard. “I wonder, Sephiroth, what ending you would choose.”
“I wonder,” Sephiroth echoed, then opened the door, flooding the van with harsh light.
Cloud blinked. They were in the wastes. Not that far from Midgar - still close enough that they couldn’t see the far edges of the city walls. He clambered out, anxious to get into the open where he could manoeuvre more freely.
Angeal hauled First Tsurugi from the front of the van with him, bereft of materia, and handed it to him. “I left the materia on the passenger seat,” he explained. “Swords only. Odin knows you two do enough damage just with those.”
Uncomprehending, he grasped the proffered hilt. “What…?”
Experimentally, Sephiroth swished Masamune in the air a few times, catching the sunlight with the tip. Satisfied, he lowered it to his side, not brandished, but at the ready none-the-less. “Let us begin.”
Were they really suggesting what he thought they were? “I signed a contract…” he began haltingly.
Genesis rolled his eyes. “We’re here to fight, not kill.”
“Out here, you two can swing swords at each other for as long as you want. You know how to spar, Strife. Sephiroth wants a good challenge, and you get a chance to work out your frustrations,” Angeal explained.
“A challenge?” He didn’t get it. What a pointless reason to fight. He’d stopped caring about that sort of thing when Nibelheim burned and his dreams went with it.
He stopped caring about a lot of things after Nibelheim.
“You want to fight, don’t you?” Genesis asked bluntly.
Cloud frowned. “Not really.” Wanting to kill Sephiroth before he could commit atrocities and fighting the man were two separate issues in his mind. Fighting was only a means to an end.
Angeal rolled his eyes and gave him a little push. “Just do it as a personal favour then. But remember - no killing!”
Miffed, he raised First Tsurugi into a guard. Sephiroth brandished Masamune in turn, and Genesis and Angeal retreated a safe distance.
A spar, huh? He supposed he could use the practice.
…………………….
The air shivered with the ringing clash of swords. Masamune swung in a wide arc, Strife ducked, struck back, and Sephiroth practically floated away. They flew across the barren wastes, kicking up dust and leaving gouged earth in their wake.
“Do you really think we’ll be able to react quickly enough if it turns deadly?” Angeal asked, watching the swords flashing with interest. Strife had switched to two blades again. Must be nice to be ambidextrous.
“Nothing short of a beheading will kill either of them fast enough. I brought a FullCure.” Genesis held aloft the materia as proof.
Angeal grunted in acknowledgement, attention fixed on the battle. They covered an impressive amount of distance as they dodged and parried - he felt tired just watching. Hopefully their path would bring them back their way soon, otherwise they’d be too far out to act, even with a FullCure on hand.
They watched in silence for a little longer. "His movements are becoming more fluid."
"He's stopped being afraid," Genesis noted. "Whenever he fought before, his movements were jerky and desperate."
"Confidence can make a big difference," Angeal agreed. "People do amazing things when they overcome their fear and stop thinking." Not that Strife needed to be any more amazing. The blond struck down against Sephiroth’s block. His friend didn’t budge an inch, but the sound of the impact made his teeth hurt. They sprang apart again.
Strife’s movements were definitely growing more natural - his attention didn’t dart all over the place, and he retreated less often. One opening kept appearing, though - his unprotected shoulder. He normally covered it too quickly for Sephiroth to take advantage, but its repeated appearance made Angeal wonder. A flaw in his fighting style, or something else? Why did Strife only ever wear the one shoulder guard? His suspicions were beginning to buzz again in the back of his brain.
He rolled his neck, checking the position of the sun crawling across the sky. They’d been at it for nearly an hour already. Didn’t look like the ruckus had drawn anyone’s attention, thankfully - Midgar’s walls in the distance remained empty of visible observers, and no helicopters wheeled through the vast open blue.
"This doesn't look good," Genesis said suddenly.
Angeal refocused. He’d missed something. Sephiroth crashed to the ground, landing off-balance. Strife followed, striking down. Masamune parried, but the force of the blow rung in their ears. The tip of the katana gouged into the dirt, knocked askew.
In that instant, Sephiroth was left wide open.
His feet pounded across the ground before his thoughts had the chance to catch up. “Genesis!”
He could hear his friend, fumbling with his materia, following several steps behind. Ifrit, why did they have to be so far away? They should have kept pace, stayed closer to the fight!
Strife’s sword flashed in the afternoon sunlight. Closer. He drew his broadsword.
The angle was wrong - he wasn’t going to get there in time! "Stop!" Desperately, he threw himself between them, sword raised high to catch First Tsurugi’s blow.
Pain blossomed in his side.
Strife stared at him, bright blue eyes wide. Angeal dropped to a knee. The Buster-style sword swam in the edge of his vision, silvery surface clean of blood.
"Angeal." Sephiroth whispered from behind.
He understood then. Strife had done what they never expected, and pulled back from what would have been a deadly strike.
Sephiroth hadn't believed he would, and swung blindly to save his own life.
“Angeal!” Genesis caught up.
"Just a scratch," he announced, pushing himself to his feet, arm pressed hard against his side. "Nothing to worry about." Not entirely a lie - it was just a flesh wound, but why wasn’t the mako taking care of it? His entire body felt like it was burning. He forced a chuckle. “We have to stop ending our spars this way.”
Genesis and Strife exchanged a significant glance, some silent communication passing between them in that instant, before Strife shook his head. His friend’s face darkened, and he turned to him, FullCure brandished. “At least let me heal it. You’re bleeding.”
“Don’t-” Too late. The green wash of curative magic flowed over him. The bleeding slowed, but didn’t stop. “-waste your energy. I’ll just wrap it in the van. Mako will take care of the rest.” Except the usual tingling he felt around his scratches and bruises remained curiously absent. He straightened, and started walking to the van parked some distance away, being careful to resist the urge to limp to ease the tug on his side.
“Angeal, I-” Sephiroth began.
“Save it!” He called back. “Accidents happen.” Then, with forced cheer that would have made even Zack the Puppy proud, remarked, “That fight was really something! Better not let the higher-ups get a wind of it, or you might get stuck doing exhibition matches for the rest of your careers.” Unfortunately, the effort at humour fell flat, as Sephiroth and Genesis remained still, the flapping of their leather coats in the dry wind his only response.
The stalemate broke. “I’ll drive.” Strife glided past him like a purple wraith. For a second, they’d almost forgotten he was still there.
Sephiroth and Genesis fell into step behind him then, neither commenting on his slow gait back to their transport. Strife had retrieved his materia and settled into the driver’s seat by the time they got there. The engine roared to life as the trio clambered into the back, and was already moving by the time Sephiroth slammed the door closed.
Angeal settled in for the long, silent ride back, and did his best to ignore his friends’ concerned stares.
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