Thicker Than Blood - Chapter 1
Title: Thicker Than Blood
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Cloud, Rufus
Summary: Cloud Strife never returned to Nibelheim.
Chapter 1
10
Rufus Shinra had nothing but loathing for Junon.
The city was a pale imitation of Midgar. A small child smearing make-up up on its face, inevitably resulting in little more than wasted product and a colourful mess. Pitifully attempting to emulate its mother rather than looking itself in the mirror and embracing the reflection therein.
Junon had no need for the colossal metal plates that covered the ruin of the shantytown below. Whereas the land surrounding its parent city was dangerously unstable, Junon was surrounded by strong, healthy earth - perfect for construction. It would have saved billions to do so. Whereas Midgar was suffused with endless factories fillings its corners, with massive of exports of goods each day, touching each corner of the earth, Junon was a port city, playing the part of glorified messenger as it dutifully toddled back and forth delivering items at Midgar’s slightest request. The only feature about the city that seemed independent and unique was the massive Junon Cannon, and even it for all its apparent power, it was overblown. What was a need for such an instrument? It was hard to aim and harder still to power.
Pathetic. Utterly pathetic. And worse still, Rufus was imprisoned here.
Oh, if the untrained eye were gaze upon him, they would see no limbs clad in chains, nor any garish orange jumpsuit upon his figure or cell for surroundings. Not even a guard at the door. He was dressed in the finest white and black silks, his chambers spacious and opulent and he wasn’t restricted to them either. His warden was much too subtle to resort to such medieval tactics. The bars around his cage might be transparent but they were as real as steel and twice as strong. And he had no doubt that there were a thousand little rats crawling around the duct work listening to his every breath, watching him with beady eyes.
His dearest father had hardly been thrilled at his son’s tiny act of teenage rebellion. Apparently attempted coups were frowned on.
Rufus seriously doubted that his distaste for his current location was hardly a coincidence. On the other hand, he didn’t have even those minuscule uncertainties that the information that was given to him was being filtered. The report on his desk alone was nearly half a year old. Most likely any relevance to the world at large had long since expired. His teeth ground together, the edges of the papers crackling as he gripped them. He nearly ripped it apart out of spite.
Then he saw the name. Tseng.
Rufus felt a trickle of annoyance at himself. His behaviour was crude, a temper tantrum for lack of a better description. He wasn’t allowed such weaknesses. Perhaps if he’d been aware of such behaviour in the first place, he would still be home. So easing his grip, he smoothed out the pages and began to read.
Apparently the Turk had been on a mission to retrieve weapons stolen from Shinra by a militant group. It must have been highly confidential weaponry, though as to what kind the report didn't say, as the Tseng was a superb operative and only given the most important of missions. For nearly fourteen years, he’d been assigned as Rufus’ bodyguard after all.
The mission had been successful, albeit with casualties: one trooper had been lost, and Tseng, the First Class SOLDIER assigned and another trooper had been severely injured. They had all recovered and Rufus was rather surprised to note that the second trooper hadn’t merely survived due to luck or simply hiding (hardly unheard of behaviour). The mentions of his response were fairly positive, hardly a common thing considering Tseng’s sparse use of praise.
Rufus shuffled the papers until he came to the background check on the trooper. His name was Strife, Cloud Strife, a rather odd name. He was a trooper specializing as a mechanic and radio operator. Quaint if a little unremarkable. Nothing seemed special except for the birth records were quite detailed, like having a doctor present and the exact time of birth being listed. Strange considering most small towns made do with a midwife and had little in the way of record-keeping, especially ones as remote as Nibelheim.
Wasn’t that the place where Sephiroth had spent his earlier years? Yes, Rufus was quite sure. Professor Hojo had a lab there and Rufus father had regularly gone there to check up on the burgeoning ‘Project S’.
The part stating Strife’s own father was conspicuously blank and so Rufus assessed Strife’s photo, carefully noting the features as well as the blond hair and blue eyes.
It was a mediocre attempt at detective work at best, all assumptions and coincidences. Rufus was capable of arrogance - yes, he could even admit it - but he was not so deluded a person as to assume his thoughts were anywhere near the truth.
Nonetheless it was an intriguing notion and he mulled it over. It wouldn’t be the first time. His father had never been very good at keeping his fly zipped and when rumours had spread, he’d insisted that he had only one son. Father also had two other ‘only’ sons and five other ‘only’ daughters, a number of which worked for the company, and these were only the ones Rufus knew about. They were all older though and as Rufus understood it when his mother had been having trouble conceiving, his father had excused the entire thing by saying he needed a suitable heir. If this Strife was related to him, that pretext would be entirely dismantled.
Proving it would be difficult though, with Rufus’ current resources it would require letting the little rats seeing what he was doing and who knew what they would do? It would be such a waste to play the game too hastily lest he lose and Rufus was quite capable of being patient. One way or another Cloud Strife had shown to be resourceful.
It could prove entertaining.
9
“Wait a minute, who gave you a job offer?”
“Uh, Rufus Shinra,” Cloud replied, staring dully at the e-mail.
“As in the vice president?” Zack said, his dark eyebrows practically jumping off his face.
“Are there any other Rufus Shinras?” Cloud asked hopefully.
The SOLDIER First hustled towards him, and leaned over Cloud’s shoulder, causing his friend to sag as much from his friend’s weight as the shock of the message. Then completely neglecting to ask, Zack wriggled the PHS out of Cloud’s hand. “Even if there are, this one is at the top of the pack,” Zack said, his fingers bouncing off the device’s buttons.
Could there be another Cloud Strife in the trooper corps? But even his numb brain knew that was a ridiculous suggestion. Strife by itself was a very rare name even in Nibelheim. Between that and the fact that when he’d applied for the SOLDIER program, the man in charge of the paperwork having seen his name had been sure that he had been trying to have him on. It had taken ten minutes to convince the recruiter not to kick out of the office and longer still to get him to take his application.
“Could it be a fake?” It wasn’t unheard of for troopers to play practical jokes within there own ranks, though the targets tended to be the recruits.
“Probably not. I’ve seen these kinds of messages before. See all that fancy imagery at the top of the page? If it’s a fake, then somebody is going to be in big trouble because that’s the sort of stuff the Directors use. I’ve seen their e-mails to important SOLDIERs.”
“Not to you?”
Zack shuffled, scratching the spot where the ebony spikes of his tickled the back of neck. “Well, I’ve had a couple… just because Sephiroth was too busy.”
Cloud didn’t point out that Zack being a First automatically made him important, or the fact that he was the foremost SOLDIER to go to after Sephiroth made Zack even more prominent. For all his skills and accomplishments, Zack seemed entirely incapable of internalizing the fact that he was one of the highest ranking members of the military. Cloud could try, though he doubted it would go anywhere.
“Are you sure it’s not a fake?” It was one last pitiful attempt at denial and Cloud found himself wincing at it.
“Nope, it’s the real deal,” Zack’s glowing blue eyes moved to his friend. “What’s the matter? I mean it shows people are realizing what I’ve always known: you’re awesome, Cloud.”
“Thanks but-”
“No buts allowed,” his friend asserted. “You. Are. Awesome. Remember the time you shot that monster off my back? Bam. Right between the eyes.”
“You would’ve been fine.”
Zack shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. Just ‘cause I’m enhanced doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally need someone to watch out for me. I’m human too after all.”
Cloud felt the edges of his lips curl upward. “You sure about that?”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. With all that energy of yours, you’ve always struck me a more of a puppy.”
Zack stared at him for a bit, forehead furrowing, before letting out a whoop and effortless pinning the teenager under his arm, giving him a noogie. All the while the blond wiggled in his grip, letting out peals of laughter. Cloud would never stop being grateful for having someone like Zack in his life. Everything seemed better with him present.
Eventually the moment passed, and Cloud was left with a somewhat sore head and an exhausted chest. For his part Zack had one of his signature cheek-splitting grins adorning his face.
“What do you say? We’ve got to go through Junon to get to Nibelheim. So I figure on the way back we can stop for a bit and you can go see the Vice President and see if this job is for you. If not well, it still means someone’s finally noticed your skills. If so, you get a pretty cool opportunity. I mean I’d miss you, man, and everything, but there are plenty of missions which make me go through there. I’d be able to visit a lot.”
“Nibelheim.” The word was little more than a piece of dust. He could feel something small and hard forming in his throat.
“Isn’t it awesome?” Zack used that word too much. “I was going to keep it a surprise, though with everything you’ve already had a big enough one for the day. And Sephiroth’s coming too - I'll introduce you two. And you’ll be able to see all your family and friends…” He petered off at the blond’s lack of enthusiasm. “You okay?”
It took a fair bit of effort to keep his discomfort from showing. “I’m alright. Just all these things are happening all at once. It’s really overwhelming.”
To go home as a trooper… While his mother would certainly be thrilled to see him whatever his position, he hadn’t been on the best terms with most of the town. When had been about to leave he had bragged anyone who would listen that next time they saw him he’d been someone important, a SOLDIER First Class. He’d been supremely overconfident, and here he was returning to Nibelheim without so much as making Third. It would be humiliating.
He grasped the one escape he could see. “Are you sure the Vice President will be okay with this? I don’t think he’s the sort who likes being kept waiting.”
“Yeah, but don’t you want to see everybody?”
No. Definitely not. He could just see it now, returning home to the looks of the townspeople, and jeers of the children who had bullied him. He doubted any of them except maybe Tifa - disappointment brimming in those soft brown eyes - would be surprised at his failure, and to top it off, all of this would be happening in the presence of Sephiroth, his idol. The thought quickly became unbearable, grinding his insides together until they were paste.
“Yes, but this could easily be a once in a life time opportunity. If I don’t take it as soon as possible, I might lose it altogether.” The words weren’t exactly a lie; nonetheless, they bothered him. It was necessary though. If Zack knew the real reason he didn’t want to go he’d become even more insistent that Cloud come along. He’d want him to confront the issue, resolve it. Cloud liked his friend but sometimes Zack just couldn’t leave well enough alone and this wasn’t his business. “I’ll come with you all the way to Junon to check it out. Then if I don’t like it, I’ll try to catch up with you.”
Zack seemed unsettled, shifting from foot to foot in an attempt to find some sort of equilibrium. “Are you sure about this, Cloud? This is your home we’re talking about.”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m sure.”
The words scrapped across his tongue like sandpaper.
8
Tifa waited at the town gates. She tried to ignore the rapidly dark sky overhead, wriggling her toes fervently in an attempt to keep feeling in them. A few minutes later she was forced to wrap her arms around her to keep in a bit more warmth.
Maybe she shouldn’t have worn her cowgirl outfit. It didn’t cover her waist and most of her legs, and toques were much warmer than her curhat, but it was her favourite outfit and she hadn’t expected to be out this late.
Not that she was cold or anything. She’d seen the trooper that had come with the SOLDIERs; his armour bulging awkwardly from the many sweaters he was wearing underneath and his face completely obscured by the scarves wrapping it. Clearly he was city-born, unused to the tiniest bit of cold. Meanwhile Tifa was from Nibelheim dammit and she could handle anything the weather could throw at her.
“Hey there little lady, aren’t you a might chilly?” said a friendly voice.
She turned to see the black-haired SOLDIER approach with two mugs, their contents sending lazy clouds of steam up to join their brothers in the sky.
“I’m not cold,” she stated emphatically. The comment was punctuated by the chattering of her teeth.
The First pushed a warm mug into her hand with a knowing look. “Sure you’re not. Just like back in Gongaga we weren’t hot whenever outsiders came to town. We would all make a big effort to put on extra layers of clothes. It’s a miracle we didn’t all die of heat exhaustion.”
“Gongaga? I’ve never heard of it.”
“I’m not surprised. It’s a small town on the southern end of the continent and stinking hot during the summer. There’s a mako reactor and nothing else out there.”
“The last bit's a lot like here,” she said.
“Yeah.” There must have been a private joke in the statement because he smiled then. It wasn’t like when she’d seen the General smile when he’d first arrived. When Sephiroth had smiled, the corners of his mouth had been too sharp, too brittle and then when he’d laughed, it had been like the sound of ice when it cracked underfoot. She’d had a hard time seeing this man as the hero Cloud had idolized.
This SOLDIER was the complete opposite. A lot like the hot chocolate she sipped from cup, his very presence seemed warm and comforting. When she’d first seen him from the distance, she’d thought he was Cloud all grown up, having dyed his hair. She’d run over and nearly given him a hug, only to realise the difference half way through, causing her to nearly fall over in an attempt to stop.
“I’m Zack Fair by the way,” he said.
“Tifa Lockhart.”
Now on closer examination the difference between him and Cloud was much more evident, not just in his body but his manner as well. While she hadn’t known Cloud especially well, she had observed a few things. Like for one she was fairly sure Cloud wouldn’t have made idle conversation with a complete stranger, though he might have given her the mug before scuttling off in the opposite direction. He’d always been a shy if occasionally corny boy. It was one of the things that made him so sweet.
“So you’re the mayor’s daughter? That must be awesome. I bet you’ve got your own room and everything. I would’ve killed to have that when I was a kid. I had to share with my parents and that was a bit weird when they wanted to…” He seemed to remember his audience then. “Uh, never mind.”
“Yes, I’ve got my own room.”
She suppressed the urge to bite her lip. She’d actually suggested sharing with Zangan, her martial arts teacher, who was currently in town, but her father had automatically rebuffed the idea. Dad had been increasingly overprotective since her mother’s death, even demanding to witness her every lesson as if the old man might try something with her. He’d become increasingly suffocating as of late as her father had started setting up get-togethers with the few boys he liked. She was fifteen and sixteen was the normal marrying age in Nibelheim.
She was was at the point where she wished something to happen as long as it would get her out of here. She wasn’t picky. Anything would do.
“If Gongaga is so warm, why aren’t you cold?” she asked trying to pull the subject in another direction. “Is that jumpsuit heated or something?”
“Nah, SOLDIERs tend to run hot. It’s got to be incredibly cold before we need extra gear. Even then, it takes a lot more than frosty weather to freeze Zack Fair,” he boasted and spontaneously started a set of squats. He seemed to be doing them way too fast too. Her sensei had always told her much to her chagrin they more effective when done slowly, but she decided it would be best if she said nothing about the frankly bizarre behaviour
“So anyways, why are you out here ‘not being cold’?” he said.
“I was waiting for someone. A SOLDIER.” She’d been so certain he would come. After all who was better to send on a mission to Nibelheim than a Nibelheimer? She wanted him to come.
“Oh, anyone I know?”
“Maybe. He’s a really nice boy, a little shy though. He’s got this cute spiky blond hair that looks a lot like a Chocobo’s feathers and-”
“Chocobo, eh?” Zack chuckled. “I’ll have to tell Cloud that when I see him.”
“You know him? Is he coming too?” she said. All at once excitement flared throughout her body. Some of liquid from her mug splashed down her hand, but she barely noticed its hot sting.
“Yep, though he’s not a SOLDIER.”
“He’s not, but…”
“He didn’t manage to get through the exam,” Zack explained.
Tifa stared at her boots, feeling disappointed for herself. That night on the water tower he’d promised to come rescue her, and now her birthday was looming ever closer. She still wanted to see the world, not to settle right away and start having kids like the other girls. Admittedly being saved from her own hometown, her own father, probably wasn’t what either of them thought a rescue would entail; nonetheless she desperately wanted Cloud here so she could borrow a bit of his strength. She didn’t want to break the news to her father by herself.
She angrily banished the self-pity. She hadn’t spent years of martial arts training just become a princess in a tower the moment the first obstacle was thrown in her way. Even more importantly, Cloud not getting into SOLDIER wasn’t about any stupid fantasies she’d had as a child. This wasn’t about her - it was about Cloud.
Even years later she still remembered the determined little boy declaring that he was going to be the best, like General Sephiroth. The little boy who - after all arguments the townspeople about why he should stay - had left. He’d broken the set mold and with a hand full of change, crossed the vast ocean and made it all the way to Midgar on his own. Well Tifa had met Sephiroth and maybe he was tough, but when it came to sheer determination she seriously doubted he could compare to that little boy, let alone the adult he was becoming.
"I don't know who picks who passes and who fails, but whoever they are, they're morons," she declared.
"Agreed."
At this point Tifa decided she liked Zack Fair.
"Except maybe the person who picked you," she added.
"Thanks... I think. For what it's worth someone else noticed him."
"Who?"
"The vice president of the whole flipping company!"
Zack gave her another broader smile and this time Tifa joined him. She knew it. She knew if anyone deserved a step up in the world, it would be Cloud. As for her, somehow she’d find a way to tell her father and rescue herself. And Zack seemed nice. Maybe he’d be willing to give her a ride out of here. Maybe she’d get to see Cloud.
They toasted to Cloud’s achievement with cocoa, the steaming liquid keeping the chill of the night at bay
7
“Look, it is bad enough you people take forever to arrive when your technology starts poisoning our land. Now you want to drag my daughter your mess,” growled Mayor Lockhart at Fair.
Zangan didn’t particularly like Lockhart. The man had taken his grief at the loss of his wife and wore it like a funeral shroud. Whoever he had been before his wife’s death, the current Athan Lockhart tended to have a distrustful nature and the few people he excluded from his suspicious examinations, he tried to constantly control. Personally he suspected the only reason the rest of town kept him as mayor was the fact nobody else wanted the job.
However when it came to Shinra, Zangan tended to agree. There had been too many places he’d seen trashed, too many people gone missing and too many acts of casual cruelty by the company for him to be comfortable around any of its operatives. He took some reassurance that it was SOLDIERs leading this mission with no sign of those men and women in their dark suits and ties present.
It was only a mild reassurance though and he tried to keep his gaze from straying to the single trooper. It was very hard. Even after all these years, Shinra’s infantry still made a hand grip his heart. The trooper stood at the path leading up Mount Nibel, so still and silent that you’d have thought him a statue. Those red lenses on the helmet were like three glowing, globule eyes. And with the scarf up and covering the trooper’s face, you could only imagine an alien thing lurking beneath.
“Dad, leave Zack alone. I volunteered to be their guide,” Tifa said.
“You’re a young woman. I see no reason why you should be the one in danger.”
“I’m the best fighter in Nibelheim except for Master Zangan.”
“Then Zangan can go.”
“But he doesn’t know the mountain passes the way I do. They could easily get lost. I’m the best person for the job. Just let me-”
“No, this is not your decision.”
At this point Fair attempted to edge back into the argument. “Look sir, I’ve been called a pretty good fighter. I’m sure whatever we find up there I can take care of it. Tifa will be perfectly okay with me.” Zangan could have told him that saying that wasn’t a good idea and winced, knowing what was to come.
Lockhart’s attention snapped back to the brunet faster than a snapping rubber band. “How do you know my daughter?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know my daughter’s name. She knows yours. How do you know my daughter?” The dark oak of his eyes seemed to light on fire.
“We just shared a drink last night.” Fair seemed to have missed the implication or he probably wouldn’t have said that.
Tifa shoved herself between the two men. Zangan approvingly noted as his student positioned her feet so that her father would trip should he try something. “Please Dad, it’s not what you think. Zack was just being nice. That’s all.”
It seemed like a scene out a bad comedy. The father getting the wrong impression. The suspected boyfriend absolutely confused. ('Wait a sec, I've already got a girlfriend.) Meanwhile the daughter was frantically trying to keep everything from going wrong. A group of onlookers had even gathered to watch the show. Zangan might have thought it funny if it weren't for the fact that everyone involved hadn’t been clearly upset.
“Enough.”
The word was barely a whisper. Nothing more was needed.
Sephiroth approached, his every step strangely light as if he disdained touching the ground, the crowd of parting for him without prompt.
“You,” he said. Tifa shrank back as he addressed her.“You know the way to the mako reactor, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Then you will guide us there.” There was no request in the statement.
“Yes.”
“But…” the mayor began, but the Winter General merely looked at him - a small dismissive glance of those glowing eyes before he walked away - and while Lockhart’s lips continued to move, no sound emerged.
6
Zack was worried.
Ever since they had gone to the reactor Sephiroth had started acting strange. It wasn’t though Sephiroth had ever been a cuddly person - the guy could probably make the word ‘poodle’ sound menacing - but recently he’d taken turned that aloofness into a wall surrounding him. Zack had tried to pierce it, trying to talk to him.
Nothing Zack said seemed to budge Sephiroth from that creepy basement. He spent hours down there reading what seemed to be thousands of old tomes, sporadically muttering to himself in a voice cracked by dust. He’d even attempted to take one them away, but Sephiroth had casually taken the book back, plucking it from his fingers as if Zack were nothing more than a shelf without a word of acknowledgment..
Zack hadn’t tried that again.
Sephiroth would eventually have to come out of there. A SOLDIER could go a while without eating or drinking, but sooner or later the guy had to come out, right? Zack just didn’t want to think too closely on how Sephiroth was handling the bathroom problem.
So he’d spent most of his time in town. A little bit of it was spent with Tifa when it was clear her dad wasn’t around to freak out. Most of it was spent with the other townspeople. Plenty of people were interested in Midgar, not usual considering it was the exact opposite of this little place. A number also wanted to know about Cloud too. Apparently only a few other people ever left Nibelheim and those ones went away in groups. They hadn’t done it alone and as a teen like Cloud had, and they took a certain pride that one of their own could rise so high and so fast. Zack wished Cloud was here to see it.
Zack wasn’t an idiot no matter what some people thought. He’d guessed that Cloud had gone to investigate the Vice President’s offer mainly because he was embarrassed that he hadn’t made SOLDIER. The blond had made a big show of rationalizing it and he'd played along just because he didn’t want to push. Though next time he saw Cloud, Zack was going to tell him about how proud everyone was of him. Cloud had a nasty tendency to downplay his accomplishments. He seemed incapable of understanding how awesome he was.
He had just gotten back from dinner with Cloud’s mom. The lady had persistently grilled him about her son. How was he? Where was he? Did he eat his vegetables? Did he wear clean underwear? Zack had been left with the rather difficult scenario of trying to eat while answering five questions at once. Did Cloud have a girlfriend? Did Zack know anyone ladies who would be good candidates to become Cloud’s girlfriend?
On that note when he went back to Junon, he was going to have to mention a certain brunette to Cloud. On the day they headed up to the reactor when it as clear that Cloud wasn’t going to show up anytime soon, Zack had been bemused to notice she had switched that cute cowgirl outfit for more practical jeans and a sweater. Somebody had a crush. He was so going to have to mercilessly tease Cloud about this.
Eventually the meal had finished, and now Zack lay on his bed in Shinra Mansion, suffused with nostalgia. Ms. Strife had reminded him a lot of his own mom. He missed her and Dad too. Maybe on the way back he could convince Sephiroth to stop in Gongaga, allowing him to catch up with the folks. Aeris lived too far away to actually meet his family, but perhaps he could borrow a few of Mom’s recipes and give her a taste of his home. She’d probably like that.
Zack wiggled around on the bed, trying to get comfortable. It wasn’t easy. The mattress was literally ancient. The only reason he stayed here and not the hotel was that the Nibelheimers were being paranoid about Sephiroth’s behaviour and wanted someone to keep an eye on him.
The First stared upwards, his vision going in and out of focus, the intricate metalwork of the light fixture blurring occasionally as sleep threatened to pull him under.
It was then he thought he heard laughter.
5
Nibelheim burned and Tifa watched.
I take it back.
The crackle of the burning wood sounded like a thousand sharp little voices, all of them mocking her.
She had wanted to get away so very badly. And in one horrible moment she’d willing for any happen provided it made it easier for her to leave.
Soon enough there wouldn’t be any Nibelheim to stay in. Her wish granted.
I’ll be good. I’ll never leave. Just let me take it back.
She stumbled towards a person sprawled on the ground and with a shaky hand reached out to touch his throat. His name was Isaac Woodover. He ran the inn and when he had spare time, he had taught her and the other children how to read.
There was no pulse. But why should there? It seemed crazily hilarious in hindsight. Of course there was no pulse. There was no blood in his body to pass through his throat. It was over his clothes and the ground, and on Tifa too.
It had gotten on her when she’d kneeled down to check on the corpse. It was there on her chest, on her knees and hands, burrowing into the tiny crevices of her skin. But that was alright. It was a good thing. The blood should be on her. It belonged there.
Please…
“SEPHIROTH!” someone yelled.
Papa? Her father’s voice woke something in Tifa, and she took a hacking breath, drawing the smoke deep until her lungs howled. Blearily she could make out her father’s form charging up the mountain after the Monster.
No. Not him. Not him too.
She forced herself to her feet and ran after him.
...I don’t want to be alone.
4
This was all Zack’s fault.
The townspeople had been scared. Sure Sephiroth had been acting weird, but Zack had been so sure they were overreacting. After all, heroes don’t hurt innocents.
He should’ve taken them seriously. He should’ve tried harder to get through to Sephiroth, to save him from himself.
He was distantly aware as he walked through the mountain, somehow managing to find his way through the winding paths.
As he approached the entrance of the main reactor, there sprawled on the ground like a sick welcoming mat was the corpse of Tifa’s father. A little while later he found Tifa, limp on the stairs not even trying to stem the blood flowing from her body.
He tried to check on her, but despite the pain it must have caused, she turned away, curling into a ball, terrified by his very presence. “I hate you! I hate Shinra! I hate SOLDIER! I hate you all!” she screamed, her body shaking with the effort of it.
He wanted to stay with her. Comfort her. Tell it wasn’t like that, but Zack couldn’t bring himself to say anything.
Her wounds nasty but slow to bleed. She had time. He’d come back for her… provided he survived. He drew the Buster Sword. The weight of it seemed incredibly light in comparison to the one already on his shoulders. Sephiroth needed to be stopped.
Heroes didn’t let innocents die.
Time to find out if he was one.
3
Cloud wasn’t sure what madness had encouraged him to even think of working for Rufus Shinra. Yes, it was just a ploy to get out of going home. But when faced with a room that he could’ve fit his mother’s house in, suddenly the idea of going home seemed very appealing.
Lazing on the couch, the figure gazed at him, seemingly amused.
Was this really the Vice President? Wasn’t he kind of young? What was Cloud supposed to do anyways? Should he sit down as well? Or salute and give his name rank and serial number like he would to General Heidegger? He wished the Vice President would stop looking at like that and actually say something.
Apparently the other teenager could read minds because at this point he said, “You would be Cloud Strife, would you not?”
“Yes, sir,” he belted out. To his horror his military training had taken over. “Private Strife, reporting for duty, sir.”
“From Nibelheim, correct?”
“Yes, sir.” He sounded incredibly hokey and yes, the teenager definitely looked amused.
“You are not here about an assignment. You are here about a job offer. Such dedication to military protocol is hardly required,” the Vice President said, gesturing to the opposite couch. “Please relax. Would you like something to drink? I have a vintage of Wutain whiskey if that may be of interest. I find they have a quite unusual interpretation of the Continental drink. Quite palatable.”
Cloud sagged onto the couch and said the first thing that popped into his mind. “Your dad lets you drink?”
The Vice President blinked before letting out a smooth laugh. “I suspect he doesn’t care much one way or another. So shall we?” Cloud didn’t answer. “Or would warm milk be of more interest? Or perhaps a box of juice?”
Cloud stopped mentally kicking himself long enough to finally put out an answer. “Water would be fine, sir.”
It was a bit of a shock when he saw the Vice President himself get up and head to the bar. He’d always had always had the idea that rich men and women had People to do those sort of things. Now when he looked past all the fanciness of the apartment, he realized he could also spotted a stove, a fridge and what looked like a washer/dryer.
His search was cut sort as the teenager returned with not one, but two glasses of ice water.
“So,” he said. “I imagine you are wondering what the opportunity is.”
“Yes, sir, it wasn’t specified in the message, sir.”
Shinra raised a single red-gold eyebrow. “You need not ‘sir’ me so much, Private Strife. Considering your position, provided you accept it, you would be well within your rights to call me Rufus.”
“What position would that be, si- I mean, Rufus?”
“It would be a long term assignment. Due to… complicated circumstances, my previous bodyguard has taken another assignment. I am in need of a replacement.”
Cloud just stared.
“Admittedly my current funds are not what they used to be, but your pay would be more than it currently is.”
“There’s got be hundreds of people more suited.” This had to be a joke. To hell with what Zack said, this couldn’t be Rufus Shinra. Any moment now a platoon of troopers would jump out of the closet and shout, ‘Gotcha!’
“True,” Shinra admitted, “but they would not necessarily suit me. Reports of your conduct have been quite exemplary and you are young enough to be moulded to my unique requirements." He passed Cloud a check. "As a show of my good faith, your first month’s pay.”
He’d been telling the truth. While the check wasn’t huge amount of money - Zack made over ten times this amount - it was definitely an improvement. With this much he could save and be able send some his mother back home, but…
“I was hoping to take the SOLDIER exam next year.”
Shinra was unruffled. “As I understand thing, you’ve already taken the exam before.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I didn’t get in.”
“So you plan to retake the test simply for the pleasure of failing again?”
Even months after the first rejection the knowledge stung and before he knew it, he was on his feet glaring at the person had the audacity to rub it in. It took a moment to remember who exactly he was angry at, causing him to sit back down nearly as fast as he’d gotten up in the first place.
Oddly enough Shinra didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest by the display, and instead made a pacifying movement when Cloud started to apologize. “My forgiveness is hardly necessary, Private Strife. Your reaction was hardly unmerited considering my behaviour.” If anything Shinra seemed pleased. “Despite the fact that my words were ill thought-out, they were not without a point. Would I be correct in assuming that becoming a SOLDIER has been your life’s dream?”
Cloud nodded.
“A not uncommon, though certainly noble goal,” the Vice President said, raising his glass to the notion. “It must have been devastating when they decided you were not suitable for the program. Have you given much thought as to what you would do if you failed once more?”
“I would try again.” Cloud would keep on trying even if he was in a wheelchair by the time they let him in.
“Are you aware that SOLDIER treatments rarely work on subjects in their late teens? Something about the slowing of the growing process hampers the treatments. It’s the reason that while the program has been around nearly ten years, you almost never see a SOLDIER older than twenty five, with the exception of Sephiroth of course. Add to this that they doubtlessly had their reasons for not accepting you in the first place whether medical or otherwise... I make these points, not out of malice, but to show you the simple truth: your dream is dead.”
He wanted very badly to launch himself at the other teenager. To smash his face in. Just like all those fights with bullies back home. But he wasn’t a child anymore. He couldn’t go around lashing out at smallest provocation. Those days were gone and unlike the teasing back then, there seemed to be no mockery in the other’s tone.
The hardest thing about Shinra’s comments was that they sounded true.
“For what in may be worth, the world is not divided between SOLDIERs and those who are not. There are many places for talented people like yourself. Your old dream is gone and turned to dust,” Rufus said. “Let me give you a new one.”
2
He was a master of a thousand disciplines, a hand-to-hand combat teacher of no small renown. But once the fires started, Zangan froze.
Wutai…
It took him nearly ten minutes to rally his faculties and start dragging people out of burning buildings.
It was then he saw his little student run up the path where Sephiroth had gone and a minute later the other SOLDIER Fair go the same way. Even then, all he think about was immediately leaving. No. Not leaving. Fleeing. Run away as fast as he could. Never stay in the same place too long. Because if you did, they would find you and then - if you were lucky - kill you. He’d heard rumours of what Shinra did to inconvenient Wutains.
Coward. All his skills and at the end of the day he was a coward, and this burning shame more than anything as simple as bravery or affection, forced him to chase after them.
He arrived too late to help much. The damage was clear. The mayor’s body on the ground, gutted like a fish. Fair lying there like a broken doll, his limbs occasionally twitching. Tifa unconscious, the blood oozing from her wound painting the dull gray concrete of the floor bright red.
He started to approach his student, when Fair spoke, “Please… you’ve got to finish him. I… I can’t do any more. I tried. I really did. I tried.” His voice was taunt as he begged. “He won’t stop. If you don’t… He won’t stop. You’ve got to kill him. Please...”
Zangan wanted to run. Grab his student and leave. Every fibre in his body was screaming to do it, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. It had been bad enough in the old days, when Shinra had rained destruction using the power of their weapons. However even that hadn’t been enough for them; they had taken that same power and made it flesh, thinking they could tame it to a collar. If only they had looked in the mirror before making the fateful decision.
This was what they had unleashed on the world. A creature with all the might of Shinra and all the insanity of man. It had to be stopped. Zangan had to stop running or there would be nowhere else to run to.
So he removed his cloak, wrapping it around Tifa’s middle to staunch the bleeding, then gently moved Fair, positioning him so his head was supported.
“I’ll be back for you,” he said. “Both of you.” And with that Zangan went to face destiny.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that this destiny wasn’t his.
1
“Let me give you a new one.”
Cloud could leave now. There was still time to change his mind. He could rent a motorbike and go after Zack and Sephiroth. He might be a few days late; nevertheless, he'd get to see everybody.
He could return home as a failure.
A nothing.
“Okay.”
0
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