Fanfic - Endymion: Solacium (I) [Final Fantasy VII: Cloud/Sephiroth]
What will be standard pimpage on most, if not all of my posts hereafter:
poco-a-poco.deviantart.com - new doujin circle I'm in. Check it out! [and comment!]
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Pairing: Some Cloud/Sephiroth
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: PLEASE READ!
Okay, so this is a semi-AU taking place pre-Nibelheim, covering the time when Cloud first came to Midgar up until just before the platoon leaves for the Nibelheim mission. I'm planning for this to be a trilogy, but I'm having some trouble with the next two parts, so you'll have to wait for that.
The most fundamental change I have made to this universe, despite all evidence to the contrary, is to do with Sephiroth. I maintain that the Nibelheim disaster occurred because he didn't have any parental figures in his life [Hojo does NOT count] when he was growing up. Certain other major changes have been made, such as making Cloud stronger as a cadet than he really was, but these are all geared towards the one huge change I want to make that makes this AU an AU. What that is... I'm not telling. But read this AN and read the fic and it's pretty obvious in the end.
That said, I hope you'll forgive the OOC. It needed to be done to make things turn out the way I needed them to. Chalk some of Cloud's skill up to being personally trained by Zack [as far as I can tell, he didn't do that in the original storyline] and the rest of it up to luck/author's license. *grins*
Because the post was so huge, I had to split Part One up into two sections. This is the first. The second is below, having fiddled with the order of posting a bit. >_> Be sure you read this one first!
Enjoy!
Endymion
Part One: Solacium
“There’s always a smile somewhere that you’ll want to protect. Some people have huge desires… they want to protect lots of people, mountains of them. They want to protect the place they grew up and the people they love. Then there are those who are selfish and want only to protect themselves, but even those people have a smile they want to protect; their own.
“Of course, most people aren’t quite that self-centred. It’s not my smile I want to protect, but yours. It is for that reason that I want to become a Soldier. I’ll be able to look after you if I do, you see. I know it’s hard for you to hold down a job, and I hope this latest one works out better for you. You’ve always been better accepted in Nibelheim, maybe because you’re a woman, maybe because you’re not his son. People don’t like me as much though, so it’ll be better for you if I’m not there. If people forget about me, they might be nicer to you… or so I hope.
“I’m aware that this is a huge decision to make. But I’ve really, honestly thought about it, and it’s a decision that I’ve made with a rational mind. I know what I’m getting myself into, and I’m prepared for it. Undoubtedly, it will be hard, and there’s no assurance that I can even make it into Soldier. But even if I don’t, as a private, my next of kin will be given a stipend. Even in the event of my death - and please don’t cry at that; it’s a fact of life - you’ll be cared for. That’s what’s important to me.
“I’m sad that I won’t be able to see your smile for ages, if ever again, but I still want to protect it. I hope you understand, mother.”
--
Dear Mother,
Well, I’ve arrived in Midgar and have been enrolled into ShinRa’s military. I have the distinct feeling I’ve just sold my soul to them, but it doesn’t really matter in the end. We all sell our souls to someone, somewhere down the line. When it comes down to it, at least ShinRa won’t completely destroy it… I think.
The truth is that I was absolutely miserable there, of course. The only thing good about my days was seeing you. But you must have noticed that I had no friends, and that I garnered far too many bruises to have acquired them merely stumbling. (If you didn’t know and this is news to you, I’m sorry.) But the fact remains I was not well-liked there.
Within a day of arriving here, mother, I’ve made a friend. I’m acquainted with all my squad and bunkmates, of course, but I’m talking about someone called Reno. He’s a couple of years older than me, and has been in the course for a year already. That means he’ll probably graduate next year. He’s good, and I’ve no doubt he’ll make at least Captain, when the next rankings are held.
I’ve also seen General Sephiroth. He’s every bit as imposing and beautiful in real life as he is on all the posters we’ve seen. If a tiny place like Nibelheim has heard of him, you know he must be famous, but it wasn’t until I arrived here that I realised just how much in awe people hold him. I think it must be an awfully lonely life, don’t you? I saw him walking down the hall the other day and when people saw him, they literally stopped in their tracks to stare. They stopped in the middle of their sentences and just gawked at him until he was out of sight. I would hate that kind of attention if I were him. Though of course, that’s me. Maybe he’s the sort of person who thrives on attention, I wouldn’t know. But he did seem very… sad, I think is the word I’m looking for. But don’t tell anyone I said that!
Well, early morning tomorrow. I have to be up at five for P.T. - physical training - so I suppose I should close this letter here. I do hope to hear from you soon, mother.
Love,
Cloud
--
Dear Mother,
General Sephiroth spoke to my class today. It’s not something he does often, apparently, so Captain Jackson (our instructor) was quite surprised when he showed up. Still, he recovered admirably quickly and introduced us all. The rest of my bunkmates are, as I’m writing this, discussing the meeting avidly. “He’s damn powerful, you can tell just looking at him,” is what one of them has just said. I wonder if anyone noticed his eyes? They seemed so awfully lonely to me.
Or maybe I’m romanticising him too much. It’s possible, I suppose, but I don’t think I’m misreading what I see.
General Sephiroth brought with him one of his lieutenants as well, a man named Zachary. He’s an interesting person, I must say; very energetic, friendly and almost… vivacious, I suppose. He’s so full of life and happiness, and yet you wouldn’t mistake him for anything other than a Soldier First Class, which is what he is. He’s apparently one of General Sephiroth’s most trusted lieutenants, as well as the person who is always assigned to guard duty whenever General Sephiroth must make a public appearance. You would think that someone as powerful as he is wouldn’t need guards, but nonetheless, appearances must be maintained.
Zachary seems the kind of guy you would get if you took one of the boys back home, took out the mean-ness, threw in a slap of Reno and a good dose of motherliness. He’s a worse mother hen than you are, and at least you have the excuse of actually being a mother. I rather like him, actually. He was very solicitous of us, certainly more kind than General Sephiroth’s rather… impersonal speech was. I couldn’t help but feel a little chilled every time those pale, icy eyes came to rest on me - and I’m talking about the General there, of course, not Zachary.
And despite it all, I still think that the General would make a brilliant friend, if only he wasn’t so very out of reach. Reno, I’ve decided, isn’t the sort of person I could really be friends with. We’re on good terms, but he’s a lot more gregarious than I am. There he is now, in the middle of a group, all talking away about today’s training, while I sit here writing a letter to you. The thing is, I prefer the quiet and solitude, and he could never sit still for a minute without complaining. So you see, if Reno, Zachary and the General were all just normal privates like me (which Reno almost is and the other two were a very, very long time ago) then I think I would get along best with the General. Except then he’d just be Sephiroth, which he will never be now. It’s a pity, really.
So I’m scouting around for a sparring partner now. We’ve done a preliminary test of all the different weapons that ShinRa uses, to get a feel for what we like the best. Reno likes fighting with staffs and nightsticks and has been specialising in them for a while now. I personally prefer swords; there’s something a lot more personal and intimate about fighting with a sword. It’s also a lot easier to control what you want to do to a person when you use a sword, as opposed to say, a gun. Or maybe that’s just me, but I’m definitely going to specialise in swords hereon. That was what the trials were for, of course. So Reno and I will be split up, and I need to find someone who will be doing swords as well, to spar with me.
Truthfully, I’d love to wield a sword like the one that Zachary has. He’s obviously got the build to use it, and I don’t. But that’s something I’m sure I can remedy. My body has chosen this time to shoot up, so I’m no longer quite the little boy you remember. I’ll try and have a photo taken sometime to send you. I’ve been working out at the gym every moment I can, so I’ve gotten a bit more built up. I still don’t think it’s enough to wield the Buster Blade, though.
And that’s the name of Zachary’s weapon. I actually got up the courage to ask him, after the General had given his speech, and Zachary was just wandering around the class. We were practising our individual katas and I was just getting a drink of water when he came over and said hi to me (he said hi to everyone - you see what I mean about friendly?) and that was when I asked. It’s a beauty of a sword, about the width of three arms, I’d guess. It’s almost as tall as he is, and he wears it strapped to his back. There are the slots for Materia, of course, and he claims that it’s capable of stopping even bullets.
This letter is getting rather long, so I think I will close here. I miss you dreadfully, and your wonderful home-made apple strudel almost as much. You wouldn’t believe the kind of rot they pass off as food here. I’m almost tempted to take over the kitchens myself - I almost miss the days you sat me down and made me learn how to cook!
Love,
Cloud
--
“Another tape, Mother, like the very first time I ever sent you anything from Midgar. I never apologised about that, did I? It must have been a dreadful way to learn that your only son had run off to some far-off city to become a soldier. In any case, I apologise now, since I’ve thought of it.
“You’ll hear the wind in the background and the lovely music of crickets chirping, perhaps. They’re not testament to my wonderful abilities as a narrator, I should hope. Rather, it’s because I’m outside at the moment. It’s nearing eleven at night now, and just about all my squad and bunkmates are out partying. In other words, we have the next week off, and everyone’s taking full advantage of it. Rather than getting drunk - and I’m not legal for that anyway, though that didn’t seem to deter the others - I thought I’d just take a book out here to read. I’m not sure why I grabbed the tape recorder then, but I’m glad I did. It’s too dark to read now, so I’m sitting here looking at the sky and the light from the buildings and speaking to you. Or to the tape recorder, but I can imagine it’s you.
“You can’t see the stars from here, mother. It’s sad, really. Remember how you used to tell me to count the stars when I couldn’t sleep? Most people count sheep, I think… but stars have always seemed a more attractive alternative to me. Besides, with my insomnia I’d count sheep, name them, invent life stories for them, watch their offspring grow up and I still wouldn’t be able to sleep. But I’d never run out of stars to count.
“It’s at times like this that I miss Nibelheim the most, I think. I don’t think about it so much even though it’s so different here all the time. Nibelheim is tiny, there’s no escaping that fact, and I felt like some wannabe country hick when I first arrived here. Midgar is huge and so noisy and crowded and polluted that I immediately wanted to run home to my mountain ranges. Oh, not mine, not really, but they might as well have been, for all the time I spent exploring them. But anyway, I don’t miss Nibelheim that much anymore. Just when I think of the stars, and of you.
“I hope you’re doing better now, mother. You mentioned in your last letter that you’ve found a new job at the inn? Good on you then. I don’t think Tifa’s father will be too fond of you though, by simple association. He detests me, hateful demon spawn that I am, so he might take it out on you. Be careful.
“I hate the way people categorise me. You, mother, at least you came from Nibelheim originally. They couldn’t quite forgive you for leaving and marrying an outsider, but at least you were originally one of them, so your sins weren’t quite as bad. Me? I was the product of an outsider, half an outcast, half unwanted. So they poured all their loathing onto me. Nibelheim is probably even more xenophobic than Wutai is, but as the target of such hatred, I…
“I’m sorry, I sounded bitter there. I’d erase it, but it’s too dark to even see the buttons on the tape recorder, so I won’t try. And anyway, you always said you wanted me to be honest with you, right? I don’t know very many children who would be this close to their mothers, but I think it’s because you insisted on that honesty. Because you never hid anything from me, always explained everything to me, because you always took me seriously even when I was three and whimpering about a monster in the closet. Did I ever do that?
“I think I should get back inside now. I’ll write when I can.”
--
Dear Mother,
Of all the embarrassing things that could have happened! As it turns out, General Sephiroth was out that night I recorded that last message to you. Now, pull out the tape and play it back and you’ll see why I’m still red even now. I know I said some things in that tape I didn’t want people here to know, about Nibelheim and all.
But he’s been brilliant about it, really. Actually, he waylaid me on my way back to the dorms after showering. Perfect timing, really; there was no one else there. And he apologised about overhearing everything. The only reason I even decided to make the recording there was because I thought there was no one else around. He realised that, I think, and was actually sorry that he’d intruded on a private moment. It wasn’t his fault, of course, and I told him that - it’s hardly his fault if I decided to be a dolt and make a recording like that out in the open. But still, I think I’ll be sticking to letters as much as I can from now on.
If you don’t mind, mother, I’d like to talk a bit more about General Sephiroth. I’m sure you remember what I last wrote about him. About how sad and lonely he seemed to me, and how I seemed to be the only person who saw him that way. Well, after today I’m more convinced than ever about that. The whole time he was speaking to me, he had his eyes locked on mine - unflinching and straightforward, and yet, so cold. Not the kind of cold that turns your eyes to ice because you’re really an unfeeling bastard, but the kind of cold that turns you glacial because you don’t want people to know that you can feel. There’s a difference, but I don’t think people really see that. In any case, his is the latter, as I said. He feels, maybe too much, and he doesn’t want anyone to know that he does.
I wonder why he feels the need to hide like that… I have a feeling that it goes beyond the impartiality and confidence he must exude, as a General. It’s as if there is a particular person that he is trying to keep away from him. There are rumours about him, of course, endless rumours, but I don’t believe any of them. I won’t believe them unless he tells me they’re true himself. But I can very easily believe that he’s been hurt before, repeatedly.
If he and I were of equal rank, I would love to introduce him to you. Heaven knows you’ve given me enough love. I’m sure you could spare a little for him, and I don’t think he’s ever had anyone mother him before. You’d have him worshipping you in no time.
And that’s what I’ve been trying to lead up to. Don’t call it hero-worship, mother, because it’s not. But I have another reason for wanting to make Soldier First Class now, beyond the monetary. They may get paid the most (and therefore you will be most comfortable) but they are also the people who come into contact with General Sephiroth the most. They are just about the only ones who have any influence with him, beyond the corporate big-wigs here at ShinRa. He couldn’t possibly be a private, to be on equal standing with me, but I’m determined to rise to at least Zachary’s level, so I can be closer to him.
Love,
Cloud
--
Dear Mother,
Thank you for understanding. Your support means everything to me, I think you know that. If you’d sent me an angry, tearful missive that first time, I would have come home. I think you know that too. You’re capable of understanding people, mother, and that’s one of the things I envy about you. No matter the type of person, you’ve got the measure of them within a minute of meeting them. I can’t really do that, myself.
Zachary showed up at another training session today, sans the General. He seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time staring at me (though all my bunkmates claim that he was looking at them), which made me more than a little uncomfortable. I think the General might have mentioned me to him, and I don’t know what he said, exactly. Not knowing is killing me. You know my complete lack of patience with secrets that involve me.
Surprise birthday parties would probably never sit well with me. At any rate, I liked our private little celebrations at home much more than any huge bash that my bunkmates could possibly describe.
In your last letter, you asked if I’d found a sparring partner. The answer is, unfortunately, no. The good news, however, is that few people have found permanent partners. The rest of us who haven’t simply rotate every lesson, and that’s giving me a good look at lots of interesting techniques. Still, our instructors want us to find a permanent partner soon, since we’ll be working on pair-work soon. I’m thinking I’ll ask Holt. He’s not in my dorm, but he’s a decent sort, from what I’ve seen of him during lessons. The rather shy, unobtrusive sort. We should get along fine.
It has been a day since I wrote the above, and I thought I’d write a bit more before posting this off.
I think I do feel the beginnings of hero-worship now, as far as General Sephiroth is concerned. Today, all the new recruits got to see him in action. It’s one thing to watch movies of him fighting, and quite another to see him best three Soldiers (First Class, no less) without even breaking a sweat. He certainly deserves his title. I don’t think I could ever reach that level of skill. He possesses a terrifying amount of it. So yes: hello, hero-worship.
He’s a brilliant fighter, and yet I think he hates killing. What an odd paradox in a soldier - in the Soldier.
Must run to make the post now. I’ll write again later.
Love,
Cloud
--
Dear Mother,
Remember what I said about you always having the measure of people, no matter what they were like? I reiterate that statement. Reading over your last letter to me, I’m positive that you’re right on every count. It’s sad to think of though, isn’t it? And yet everything about General Sephiroth lends itself to such sadness. His skin seems so very easy to break. Is it odd, that I should see someone so powerful as fragile?
And that’s it for the serious stuff. Today I will write about inconsequential things, because I’m far too tired to indulge in any philosophical thoughts. In fact, I’m almost too tired to write, and I’d like very much to get some sleep, but I won’t be able to - my bunkmates are making too much of a racket. Why? Well, besides the fact that they’re all exuberant youngsters (I feel older than them sometimes), tomorrow’s another day off for us. Since we don’t have to be up early tomorrow, they’ve decided to stay up late today. I rather suspect someone will come in soon to tell them to shut up.
I forgot to thank you for sending the strudel. You needn’t have been afraid about it not staying fresh. Post to and fro the military is given priority, so it got here within the day, even though it was sent from Nibelheim. It was fresh enough and I borrowed the kitchen facilities to heat it up a little. I shared it with my bunkmates - there was just enough to go around - and you now have new converts to your cooking. They’re all plotting to come around to Nibelheim sometime so that they can have more of your cooking. Fasten the hatches, mother, you’re about to be besieged.
I also gave a little to Zachary, for himself and for General Sephiroth. I’m not sure I should have done the latter, but what’s done is done, I suppose. Oddly enough, Zachary’s been making a few overtures of friendship towards me. I don’t quite understand why he’d want to be friends with a private, but he’s a nice enough person that I don’t mind. I may not be able to read people as well as you, mother, but I know that I can tell whether a person’s good once I see them.
I saw Professor Hojo in the corridors yesterday. I didn’t even speak to him, just saluted… and yet he made me feel so cold. Not the way General Sephiroth does. His was a kind of cruelty and vindictive pettiness I’ve never before encountered in anyone else.
But I don’t think I’ll ever have to be in direct contact with him… until I make Soldier (if ever). That possibility scares me. That I’d have to let him inject me with mako…
It does no good to dwell on what may not come to pass, as you always tell me. So I’ll try and forget it for now. Besides, I said I’d stick to light-hearted topics, didn’t I?
What’s light-hearted? Reno has just managed to get everyone laughing with one of his stories. I’m not sure what it was, and I’m not sure I want to know. His stories tend to be rather ribald at times. He says he grew up on the streets of Midgar, and no one ever bothered to teach him manners. The others seem to appreciate his sense of humour. What I appreciate most about him, really, is his sense of loyalty. He’s rather like a dog in that respect. Completely bull-headed about loyalty to someone, once they’ve earned it.
Oh, you asked about my bunkmates. Well, there are ten of us to each dorm, so I share the dorm with nine rather rowdy young men. I’m the smallest of the lot, even if I’ve grown a lot since I arrived here. The biggest is someone affectionately known as Hulk amongst us - his real name’s Benny. I come up to about chest-height on him. He’s really built as well. No problems lifting the Buster Blade, but he’d probably chop off his own foot with it. He’s actually specialising in guns, and he’s getting to be an amazing sharpshooter.
Reno, you already know of. He’s a redhead, and he’s got a redhead’s temper, too. I write that because now he’s yelling at someone - Ramelhorf, I think - about… ah, I see. Ram tore his pillow. I was wondering where the cotton came from. Reno’ll have to go request another pillow, and good luck to him explaining where the other one went to. Ramelhorf, by the way, is from Gongaga, where Zachary also came from. He says that Zachary’s the one he wants to be like, not the General. The other boys rag him to no end about it, but I think Zachary’s a brilliant role model to have. So Ram rather likes me because I’m the only one who supports him in that. He’s a rather loud sort, though, so I’m not too close to him.
Then there’s Cadence, who’s always made fun of for his name. Cadet Cadence has a ring to it, all right, but people always make fun of him for it. Our dorm’s gotten pretty fond of him though, so we always stick up for him whenever someone tries to insult him in front of us. He brings quiet to a new level; barely ever talks. It’s easy to forget he’s there sometimes, he’s got such an unassuming presence. It doesn’t help he’s the next smallest in the dorm, after me.
I’d write more, but my eyes are really falling shut of their own accord and I’m not even sure you’ll be able to read my handwriting at this point. I think I’m tired enough now I’ll be able to sleep even through the noise, so I’ll close here.
Love,
Cloud
--
Dear Mother,
Just a quick note to tell you that I’ll be away on a training exercise for a month. You can still write if you want to, but don’t expect a reply from me within the next five weeks.
Love,
Cloud
--
Dear Mother,
Can we say fiasco? Oh, my team held up pretty well, I thought. But that was only because we didn’t all need to be sent to the infirmary. Some of the other teams - they all had to be carried off the field. So much for a training exercise. It was more like a massacre, minus the gore.
Start a story at the beginning, that’s what you always said, right? Let me try that again then. The exercise was purportedly to teach us how to think on our feet in a simulated battle. It’s different fighting in a battle than when you’re going through pre-scripted katas, of course, so you can see the need for exercises like this one. What they did, was have us split into five teams. The instructors made up the sixth team - they, along with two other teams, would be the enemy. The other three teams (which was where I was) were to be ShinRa military, fighting them off. On top of that, we were put into battle conditions. In other words, it was a field exercise and we had to expect ambushes and all that sort of thing. It was up to us to decide how and when to attack.
Obviously the other two teams had a bit of an advantage, since they had the instructors on their side. But the instructors only stepped in whenever someone from one of those teams had been disabled, so it wasn’t too bad. Or it wouldn’t have been, had there not been three Soldiers on the instructor’s team! No sooner did we take out one of the opposing team than we were cut down. We might as well have rolled over and played dead. And the Soldiers aren’t like the instructors; they don’t pull their blows. Just blocking their swords was horribly painful, and my muscles are still protesting. That, there, is why some people had to be carted off the field.
In any case, the three “ShinRa” teams managed to eliminate the other two teams completely, before the instructors’ team decided to wallop us a good one. By that time we only had about six people left, including me, and all of us were already tired. I’m pleased to report that I lasted the longest, but even then… I only lasted about three minutes against the Soldier I fought. I couldn’t even get on an offensive against him, he had me constantly defending. The skills that Soldiers possess honestly leave me in complete awe, mother. I’m not sure I’ll ever reach that level.
But let’s not dwell on that. It might have been a massacre, but it was a great learning experience. We have the next two days off to recover, and for once I don’t think anyone’s thinking of partying. We’re too busy nursing our bruised egos and bodies. And speaking of which, my arm aches terribly now, so I’ll close here.
Love,
Cloud
--
Dear Mother,
Zachary asked me today if I’d like to spar with him sometime. My response probably wasn’t the most elegant I could have given - I spat my water out onto my food. Well, he shouldn’t have asked something so very ridiculous when I was eating, I say. The others were just staring at me and him alternately. I don’t think any of us were expecting that request, least of all me!
Well, when I finally managed to recover enough to ask him what he was smoking, he said that he was perfectly serious. I hadn’t really paid attention to the fights at the end of the training exercise - remember, I told you about that last time? I was sort of preoccupied with the Soldier I was fighting. As it turned out, that Soldier was First Class, the only one on the instructors’ team. According to Zachary (he told me this later in private), most of the privates just about keeled over and died once they were attacked by the other Soldiers (all Second Class). The fact that I was able to defend for a few minutes before I slipped up apparently caught the Soldiers’ attention, and they mentioned me to Zachary. So now he wants to see what I’m really made of, in his words.
I was tempted to reply that I’m made up of much the same anyone else is - cells. But you’ll be proud to know I refrained. The way he phrased it, it was an order pretending to be a request. So we’ve fixed a date for next week for us to spar.
I’m fully expecting him to mop the floor with me in two seconds flat, what do you think?
Love,
Cloud
--
Dear Mother,
Well, I did it! I sparred against Zachary! I took your advice and tried to think positive, but about all I’d managed by the time of the fight was promise myself that he’d have to fight to take me down. I think I managed that, a little. He wasn’t fighting at his full capacity, I don’t think, but he did take a while to break through my defence. I even managed to go on the offensive once; but after that he stepped up his attacks, took back control and forced me on defence again. That was when he became a little more serious about the fight, and started really showing me just why he’s a Soldier First Class. After that I only lasted a minute or so before he managed to quite neatly rid me of my sword.
I take pleasure in the fact that he was slightly winded at the end of the spar. Not noticeably, of course, but even he admitted to me that it was a decent workout. Not long enough, he says, and he also says that I need to bulk up more. He spent the next hour or so telling me everything I did wrong, everything I did right, and how I could improve on both. Apparently the way I handle a sword’s fairly decent, but if I got a bit more muscle on me, I’d have the strength to follow up on my attacks. So it’s back to the gym now for me, except this time, Zachary insists on overseeing my regime. He says he’s going to start me on pumping weights, which I’ve not done before. Privates aren’t supposed to, unless spotted by someone at least Sergeant rank and above; and I haven’t exactly asked any of them to do that.
This is a good thing, I think. Zachary said that I’m actually ahead of my class. I’m almost afraid I’ll get a swollen head, but then I think of the way the Soldiers fought, and I think of the way that General Sephiroth fought, and I know I’m so far from that level it’s not even funny. So no danger of my ego inflating too much, but I’m really glad that Zachary’s taken such an interest in me. He’s proven to be a great friend (his sense of humour’s a lot better than Reno’s, I think) and now he’ll be a great instructor as well, I’ll bet.
I think I actually benefit when I’m being taught by someone who doesn’t pull their blows. When the instructors do, I don’t really get a feel for what that kind of a strike can do, you see. Half of how I learn is by mimicking the instructors, and if they’re always striking at half-force, I’ll never know how to hit full-force. Zachary has no such compunctions - every shot he throws at me is full-force, as I found out during our spar. He wasn’t using his best moves, but what he was using, he did at full strength. My arms can attest to that; they were quivering just a couple of minutes in.
Oh! Zachary said that he loved your strudel, by the way. He sent his thanks and said he was only sorry the portion wasn’t larger. He also claims that the General liked the strudel, but he refused to meet my eyes when he said that, so I’m not sure how accurate that is. I can’t conceive of anyone not liking your strudel, so I’m convinced he ate the General’s portion for him. In any case, he was dropping unsubtle hints that he’d love to sample more of your cooking, so if it isn’t too much bother, could you send a bit more?
Love,
Cloud
--
Dear Mother,
You’re a hit! You sent so much food that I could give Zachary a huge portion. And this time, I passed it to him in the mess hall, and the General was actually there, so I could offer him a piece myself. Zachary and the General always have lunch alone together in the hall, so at least I didn’t have anyone staring at me incredulously when I did. General Sephiroth ate it then and there, and he said it was delicious, and this was the first time he’d ever tasted apple strudel that good - at which point I gave Zachary a very pointed look, and he refused to look anywhere near me and started whistling horribly out of tune. It seems my guess was accurate after all.
So anyway, not only do Zachary and General Sephiroth love your strudel, so do my squad-mates. I was able to share with all thirty of them this time (honestly, how did you manage to bake that much?) although we had smaller portions than Zachary and the General got, of course. You’re much beloved by them now, and they are the reason there is a necklace in this envelope as well. They all chipped in to pay for it, and Zachary made the run out to town (he gets more privileges than we do). I personally think it’s a very unsubtle hint for you to just get down here and cook for us everyday. The cafeteria staff seemed a little sullen that their plastic food was being forsaken for your strudel…
So to cut a long story short, far too many members of the military here have fallen in love with you. Should I get out the cudgels to beat off your admirers, mother?
Love,
Cloud
--
Dear Mother,
You are a brilliant gem of a person. Are you planning on sending food every week now?
I’ve decided to restrict your culinary delights to my bunkmates, Zachary and General Sephiroth now. If I start handing out food to everyone, I’ll have people after me at all hours of the day, asking if you’ve sent any more. My bunkmates are bad enough as it is now! I swear they look forward to my weekly mail more than I do! I’d love to see their faces if your letter arrived without a package attached…
My bunkmates also can’t believe that I can cook. Of course, my cooking’s nowhere on the level of yours, but I think I can whip up a pretty decent meal, don’t you? None of the nine can cook to save their lives, or so they claim. Reno regaled us with a story of how he managed to mess up boiling water. This was a week or so after he’d been taken in by an orphanage. He was hungry and wanted to make some oats for himself, so he set some water to boil. Then he got distracted by some kids playing outside, and went out to join them. He comes back an hour or so later to find the water had boiled away to nothing and the pot was just about ready to melt. I find it hard to believe anyone can be so culinarily uninclined, but evidently, there are people like that who exist. I just didn’t think I’d have to share a dorm with nine of them!
Zachary’s somehow managed to extract a promise from me to go over to his quarters this weekend and cook something for him. Soldiers get quarters that are more like apartments, you see. So they have kitchens, but a lot of the Soldiers just eat at the mess hall because they can’t be bothered cooking. Zachary shares his apartment with General Sephiroth, but he said that the General probably won’t be there when I come over. We’re planning on some weight training at the gym, then a quick spar in the afternoon - and after that I’ll head over to his quarters with him and make us dinner. I admit an ulterior motive… I don’t have a kitchen or ingredients, so I’m forced to eat plastic food. At least this Saturday, I can be sure I’ll have good food to eat!
Is it just me, or does it seem like all my letters lately are about food?
Love,
Cloud
--
continued here
poco-a-poco.deviantart.com - new doujin circle I'm in. Check it out! [and comment!]
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Pairing: Some Cloud/Sephiroth
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: PLEASE READ!
Okay, so this is a semi-AU taking place pre-Nibelheim, covering the time when Cloud first came to Midgar up until just before the platoon leaves for the Nibelheim mission. I'm planning for this to be a trilogy, but I'm having some trouble with the next two parts, so you'll have to wait for that.
The most fundamental change I have made to this universe, despite all evidence to the contrary, is to do with Sephiroth. I maintain that the Nibelheim disaster occurred because he didn't have any parental figures in his life [Hojo does NOT count] when he was growing up. Certain other major changes have been made, such as making Cloud stronger as a cadet than he really was, but these are all geared towards the one huge change I want to make that makes this AU an AU. What that is... I'm not telling. But read this AN and read the fic and it's pretty obvious in the end.
That said, I hope you'll forgive the OOC. It needed to be done to make things turn out the way I needed them to. Chalk some of Cloud's skill up to being personally trained by Zack [as far as I can tell, he didn't do that in the original storyline] and the rest of it up to luck/author's license. *grins*
Because the post was so huge, I had to split Part One up into two sections. This is the first. The second is below, having fiddled with the order of posting a bit. >_> Be sure you read this one first!
Enjoy!
Endymion
Part One: Solacium
“There’s always a smile somewhere that you’ll want to protect. Some people have huge desires… they want to protect lots of people, mountains of them. They want to protect the place they grew up and the people they love. Then there are those who are selfish and want only to protect themselves, but even those people have a smile they want to protect; their own.
“Of course, most people aren’t quite that self-centred. It’s not my smile I want to protect, but yours. It is for that reason that I want to become a Soldier. I’ll be able to look after you if I do, you see. I know it’s hard for you to hold down a job, and I hope this latest one works out better for you. You’ve always been better accepted in Nibelheim, maybe because you’re a woman, maybe because you’re not his son. People don’t like me as much though, so it’ll be better for you if I’m not there. If people forget about me, they might be nicer to you… or so I hope.
“I’m aware that this is a huge decision to make. But I’ve really, honestly thought about it, and it’s a decision that I’ve made with a rational mind. I know what I’m getting myself into, and I’m prepared for it. Undoubtedly, it will be hard, and there’s no assurance that I can even make it into Soldier. But even if I don’t, as a private, my next of kin will be given a stipend. Even in the event of my death - and please don’t cry at that; it’s a fact of life - you’ll be cared for. That’s what’s important to me.
“I’m sad that I won’t be able to see your smile for ages, if ever again, but I still want to protect it. I hope you understand, mother.”
--
Dear Mother,
Well, I’ve arrived in Midgar and have been enrolled into ShinRa’s military. I have the distinct feeling I’ve just sold my soul to them, but it doesn’t really matter in the end. We all sell our souls to someone, somewhere down the line. When it comes down to it, at least ShinRa won’t completely destroy it… I think.
The truth is that I was absolutely miserable there, of course. The only thing good about my days was seeing you. But you must have noticed that I had no friends, and that I garnered far too many bruises to have acquired them merely stumbling. (If you didn’t know and this is news to you, I’m sorry.) But the fact remains I was not well-liked there.
Within a day of arriving here, mother, I’ve made a friend. I’m acquainted with all my squad and bunkmates, of course, but I’m talking about someone called Reno. He’s a couple of years older than me, and has been in the course for a year already. That means he’ll probably graduate next year. He’s good, and I’ve no doubt he’ll make at least Captain, when the next rankings are held.
I’ve also seen General Sephiroth. He’s every bit as imposing and beautiful in real life as he is on all the posters we’ve seen. If a tiny place like Nibelheim has heard of him, you know he must be famous, but it wasn’t until I arrived here that I realised just how much in awe people hold him. I think it must be an awfully lonely life, don’t you? I saw him walking down the hall the other day and when people saw him, they literally stopped in their tracks to stare. They stopped in the middle of their sentences and just gawked at him until he was out of sight. I would hate that kind of attention if I were him. Though of course, that’s me. Maybe he’s the sort of person who thrives on attention, I wouldn’t know. But he did seem very… sad, I think is the word I’m looking for. But don’t tell anyone I said that!
Well, early morning tomorrow. I have to be up at five for P.T. - physical training - so I suppose I should close this letter here. I do hope to hear from you soon, mother.
Love,
Cloud
--
Dear Mother,
General Sephiroth spoke to my class today. It’s not something he does often, apparently, so Captain Jackson (our instructor) was quite surprised when he showed up. Still, he recovered admirably quickly and introduced us all. The rest of my bunkmates are, as I’m writing this, discussing the meeting avidly. “He’s damn powerful, you can tell just looking at him,” is what one of them has just said. I wonder if anyone noticed his eyes? They seemed so awfully lonely to me.
Or maybe I’m romanticising him too much. It’s possible, I suppose, but I don’t think I’m misreading what I see.
General Sephiroth brought with him one of his lieutenants as well, a man named Zachary. He’s an interesting person, I must say; very energetic, friendly and almost… vivacious, I suppose. He’s so full of life and happiness, and yet you wouldn’t mistake him for anything other than a Soldier First Class, which is what he is. He’s apparently one of General Sephiroth’s most trusted lieutenants, as well as the person who is always assigned to guard duty whenever General Sephiroth must make a public appearance. You would think that someone as powerful as he is wouldn’t need guards, but nonetheless, appearances must be maintained.
Zachary seems the kind of guy you would get if you took one of the boys back home, took out the mean-ness, threw in a slap of Reno and a good dose of motherliness. He’s a worse mother hen than you are, and at least you have the excuse of actually being a mother. I rather like him, actually. He was very solicitous of us, certainly more kind than General Sephiroth’s rather… impersonal speech was. I couldn’t help but feel a little chilled every time those pale, icy eyes came to rest on me - and I’m talking about the General there, of course, not Zachary.
And despite it all, I still think that the General would make a brilliant friend, if only he wasn’t so very out of reach. Reno, I’ve decided, isn’t the sort of person I could really be friends with. We’re on good terms, but he’s a lot more gregarious than I am. There he is now, in the middle of a group, all talking away about today’s training, while I sit here writing a letter to you. The thing is, I prefer the quiet and solitude, and he could never sit still for a minute without complaining. So you see, if Reno, Zachary and the General were all just normal privates like me (which Reno almost is and the other two were a very, very long time ago) then I think I would get along best with the General. Except then he’d just be Sephiroth, which he will never be now. It’s a pity, really.
So I’m scouting around for a sparring partner now. We’ve done a preliminary test of all the different weapons that ShinRa uses, to get a feel for what we like the best. Reno likes fighting with staffs and nightsticks and has been specialising in them for a while now. I personally prefer swords; there’s something a lot more personal and intimate about fighting with a sword. It’s also a lot easier to control what you want to do to a person when you use a sword, as opposed to say, a gun. Or maybe that’s just me, but I’m definitely going to specialise in swords hereon. That was what the trials were for, of course. So Reno and I will be split up, and I need to find someone who will be doing swords as well, to spar with me.
Truthfully, I’d love to wield a sword like the one that Zachary has. He’s obviously got the build to use it, and I don’t. But that’s something I’m sure I can remedy. My body has chosen this time to shoot up, so I’m no longer quite the little boy you remember. I’ll try and have a photo taken sometime to send you. I’ve been working out at the gym every moment I can, so I’ve gotten a bit more built up. I still don’t think it’s enough to wield the Buster Blade, though.
And that’s the name of Zachary’s weapon. I actually got up the courage to ask him, after the General had given his speech, and Zachary was just wandering around the class. We were practising our individual katas and I was just getting a drink of water when he came over and said hi to me (he said hi to everyone - you see what I mean about friendly?) and that was when I asked. It’s a beauty of a sword, about the width of three arms, I’d guess. It’s almost as tall as he is, and he wears it strapped to his back. There are the slots for Materia, of course, and he claims that it’s capable of stopping even bullets.
This letter is getting rather long, so I think I will close here. I miss you dreadfully, and your wonderful home-made apple strudel almost as much. You wouldn’t believe the kind of rot they pass off as food here. I’m almost tempted to take over the kitchens myself - I almost miss the days you sat me down and made me learn how to cook!
Love,
Cloud
--
“Another tape, Mother, like the very first time I ever sent you anything from Midgar. I never apologised about that, did I? It must have been a dreadful way to learn that your only son had run off to some far-off city to become a soldier. In any case, I apologise now, since I’ve thought of it.
“You’ll hear the wind in the background and the lovely music of crickets chirping, perhaps. They’re not testament to my wonderful abilities as a narrator, I should hope. Rather, it’s because I’m outside at the moment. It’s nearing eleven at night now, and just about all my squad and bunkmates are out partying. In other words, we have the next week off, and everyone’s taking full advantage of it. Rather than getting drunk - and I’m not legal for that anyway, though that didn’t seem to deter the others - I thought I’d just take a book out here to read. I’m not sure why I grabbed the tape recorder then, but I’m glad I did. It’s too dark to read now, so I’m sitting here looking at the sky and the light from the buildings and speaking to you. Or to the tape recorder, but I can imagine it’s you.
“You can’t see the stars from here, mother. It’s sad, really. Remember how you used to tell me to count the stars when I couldn’t sleep? Most people count sheep, I think… but stars have always seemed a more attractive alternative to me. Besides, with my insomnia I’d count sheep, name them, invent life stories for them, watch their offspring grow up and I still wouldn’t be able to sleep. But I’d never run out of stars to count.
“It’s at times like this that I miss Nibelheim the most, I think. I don’t think about it so much even though it’s so different here all the time. Nibelheim is tiny, there’s no escaping that fact, and I felt like some wannabe country hick when I first arrived here. Midgar is huge and so noisy and crowded and polluted that I immediately wanted to run home to my mountain ranges. Oh, not mine, not really, but they might as well have been, for all the time I spent exploring them. But anyway, I don’t miss Nibelheim that much anymore. Just when I think of the stars, and of you.
“I hope you’re doing better now, mother. You mentioned in your last letter that you’ve found a new job at the inn? Good on you then. I don’t think Tifa’s father will be too fond of you though, by simple association. He detests me, hateful demon spawn that I am, so he might take it out on you. Be careful.
“I hate the way people categorise me. You, mother, at least you came from Nibelheim originally. They couldn’t quite forgive you for leaving and marrying an outsider, but at least you were originally one of them, so your sins weren’t quite as bad. Me? I was the product of an outsider, half an outcast, half unwanted. So they poured all their loathing onto me. Nibelheim is probably even more xenophobic than Wutai is, but as the target of such hatred, I…
“I’m sorry, I sounded bitter there. I’d erase it, but it’s too dark to even see the buttons on the tape recorder, so I won’t try. And anyway, you always said you wanted me to be honest with you, right? I don’t know very many children who would be this close to their mothers, but I think it’s because you insisted on that honesty. Because you never hid anything from me, always explained everything to me, because you always took me seriously even when I was three and whimpering about a monster in the closet. Did I ever do that?
“I think I should get back inside now. I’ll write when I can.”
--
Dear Mother,
Of all the embarrassing things that could have happened! As it turns out, General Sephiroth was out that night I recorded that last message to you. Now, pull out the tape and play it back and you’ll see why I’m still red even now. I know I said some things in that tape I didn’t want people here to know, about Nibelheim and all.
But he’s been brilliant about it, really. Actually, he waylaid me on my way back to the dorms after showering. Perfect timing, really; there was no one else there. And he apologised about overhearing everything. The only reason I even decided to make the recording there was because I thought there was no one else around. He realised that, I think, and was actually sorry that he’d intruded on a private moment. It wasn’t his fault, of course, and I told him that - it’s hardly his fault if I decided to be a dolt and make a recording like that out in the open. But still, I think I’ll be sticking to letters as much as I can from now on.
If you don’t mind, mother, I’d like to talk a bit more about General Sephiroth. I’m sure you remember what I last wrote about him. About how sad and lonely he seemed to me, and how I seemed to be the only person who saw him that way. Well, after today I’m more convinced than ever about that. The whole time he was speaking to me, he had his eyes locked on mine - unflinching and straightforward, and yet, so cold. Not the kind of cold that turns your eyes to ice because you’re really an unfeeling bastard, but the kind of cold that turns you glacial because you don’t want people to know that you can feel. There’s a difference, but I don’t think people really see that. In any case, his is the latter, as I said. He feels, maybe too much, and he doesn’t want anyone to know that he does.
I wonder why he feels the need to hide like that… I have a feeling that it goes beyond the impartiality and confidence he must exude, as a General. It’s as if there is a particular person that he is trying to keep away from him. There are rumours about him, of course, endless rumours, but I don’t believe any of them. I won’t believe them unless he tells me they’re true himself. But I can very easily believe that he’s been hurt before, repeatedly.
If he and I were of equal rank, I would love to introduce him to you. Heaven knows you’ve given me enough love. I’m sure you could spare a little for him, and I don’t think he’s ever had anyone mother him before. You’d have him worshipping you in no time.
And that’s what I’ve been trying to lead up to. Don’t call it hero-worship, mother, because it’s not. But I have another reason for wanting to make Soldier First Class now, beyond the monetary. They may get paid the most (and therefore you will be most comfortable) but they are also the people who come into contact with General Sephiroth the most. They are just about the only ones who have any influence with him, beyond the corporate big-wigs here at ShinRa. He couldn’t possibly be a private, to be on equal standing with me, but I’m determined to rise to at least Zachary’s level, so I can be closer to him.
Love,
Cloud
--
Dear Mother,
Thank you for understanding. Your support means everything to me, I think you know that. If you’d sent me an angry, tearful missive that first time, I would have come home. I think you know that too. You’re capable of understanding people, mother, and that’s one of the things I envy about you. No matter the type of person, you’ve got the measure of them within a minute of meeting them. I can’t really do that, myself.
Zachary showed up at another training session today, sans the General. He seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time staring at me (though all my bunkmates claim that he was looking at them), which made me more than a little uncomfortable. I think the General might have mentioned me to him, and I don’t know what he said, exactly. Not knowing is killing me. You know my complete lack of patience with secrets that involve me.
Surprise birthday parties would probably never sit well with me. At any rate, I liked our private little celebrations at home much more than any huge bash that my bunkmates could possibly describe.
In your last letter, you asked if I’d found a sparring partner. The answer is, unfortunately, no. The good news, however, is that few people have found permanent partners. The rest of us who haven’t simply rotate every lesson, and that’s giving me a good look at lots of interesting techniques. Still, our instructors want us to find a permanent partner soon, since we’ll be working on pair-work soon. I’m thinking I’ll ask Holt. He’s not in my dorm, but he’s a decent sort, from what I’ve seen of him during lessons. The rather shy, unobtrusive sort. We should get along fine.
It has been a day since I wrote the above, and I thought I’d write a bit more before posting this off.
I think I do feel the beginnings of hero-worship now, as far as General Sephiroth is concerned. Today, all the new recruits got to see him in action. It’s one thing to watch movies of him fighting, and quite another to see him best three Soldiers (First Class, no less) without even breaking a sweat. He certainly deserves his title. I don’t think I could ever reach that level of skill. He possesses a terrifying amount of it. So yes: hello, hero-worship.
He’s a brilliant fighter, and yet I think he hates killing. What an odd paradox in a soldier - in the Soldier.
Must run to make the post now. I’ll write again later.
Love,
Cloud
--
Dear Mother,
Remember what I said about you always having the measure of people, no matter what they were like? I reiterate that statement. Reading over your last letter to me, I’m positive that you’re right on every count. It’s sad to think of though, isn’t it? And yet everything about General Sephiroth lends itself to such sadness. His skin seems so very easy to break. Is it odd, that I should see someone so powerful as fragile?
And that’s it for the serious stuff. Today I will write about inconsequential things, because I’m far too tired to indulge in any philosophical thoughts. In fact, I’m almost too tired to write, and I’d like very much to get some sleep, but I won’t be able to - my bunkmates are making too much of a racket. Why? Well, besides the fact that they’re all exuberant youngsters (I feel older than them sometimes), tomorrow’s another day off for us. Since we don’t have to be up early tomorrow, they’ve decided to stay up late today. I rather suspect someone will come in soon to tell them to shut up.
I forgot to thank you for sending the strudel. You needn’t have been afraid about it not staying fresh. Post to and fro the military is given priority, so it got here within the day, even though it was sent from Nibelheim. It was fresh enough and I borrowed the kitchen facilities to heat it up a little. I shared it with my bunkmates - there was just enough to go around - and you now have new converts to your cooking. They’re all plotting to come around to Nibelheim sometime so that they can have more of your cooking. Fasten the hatches, mother, you’re about to be besieged.
I also gave a little to Zachary, for himself and for General Sephiroth. I’m not sure I should have done the latter, but what’s done is done, I suppose. Oddly enough, Zachary’s been making a few overtures of friendship towards me. I don’t quite understand why he’d want to be friends with a private, but he’s a nice enough person that I don’t mind. I may not be able to read people as well as you, mother, but I know that I can tell whether a person’s good once I see them.
I saw Professor Hojo in the corridors yesterday. I didn’t even speak to him, just saluted… and yet he made me feel so cold. Not the way General Sephiroth does. His was a kind of cruelty and vindictive pettiness I’ve never before encountered in anyone else.
But I don’t think I’ll ever have to be in direct contact with him… until I make Soldier (if ever). That possibility scares me. That I’d have to let him inject me with mako…
It does no good to dwell on what may not come to pass, as you always tell me. So I’ll try and forget it for now. Besides, I said I’d stick to light-hearted topics, didn’t I?
What’s light-hearted? Reno has just managed to get everyone laughing with one of his stories. I’m not sure what it was, and I’m not sure I want to know. His stories tend to be rather ribald at times. He says he grew up on the streets of Midgar, and no one ever bothered to teach him manners. The others seem to appreciate his sense of humour. What I appreciate most about him, really, is his sense of loyalty. He’s rather like a dog in that respect. Completely bull-headed about loyalty to someone, once they’ve earned it.
Oh, you asked about my bunkmates. Well, there are ten of us to each dorm, so I share the dorm with nine rather rowdy young men. I’m the smallest of the lot, even if I’ve grown a lot since I arrived here. The biggest is someone affectionately known as Hulk amongst us - his real name’s Benny. I come up to about chest-height on him. He’s really built as well. No problems lifting the Buster Blade, but he’d probably chop off his own foot with it. He’s actually specialising in guns, and he’s getting to be an amazing sharpshooter.
Reno, you already know of. He’s a redhead, and he’s got a redhead’s temper, too. I write that because now he’s yelling at someone - Ramelhorf, I think - about… ah, I see. Ram tore his pillow. I was wondering where the cotton came from. Reno’ll have to go request another pillow, and good luck to him explaining where the other one went to. Ramelhorf, by the way, is from Gongaga, where Zachary also came from. He says that Zachary’s the one he wants to be like, not the General. The other boys rag him to no end about it, but I think Zachary’s a brilliant role model to have. So Ram rather likes me because I’m the only one who supports him in that. He’s a rather loud sort, though, so I’m not too close to him.
Then there’s Cadence, who’s always made fun of for his name. Cadet Cadence has a ring to it, all right, but people always make fun of him for it. Our dorm’s gotten pretty fond of him though, so we always stick up for him whenever someone tries to insult him in front of us. He brings quiet to a new level; barely ever talks. It’s easy to forget he’s there sometimes, he’s got such an unassuming presence. It doesn’t help he’s the next smallest in the dorm, after me.
I’d write more, but my eyes are really falling shut of their own accord and I’m not even sure you’ll be able to read my handwriting at this point. I think I’m tired enough now I’ll be able to sleep even through the noise, so I’ll close here.
Love,
Cloud
--
Dear Mother,
Just a quick note to tell you that I’ll be away on a training exercise for a month. You can still write if you want to, but don’t expect a reply from me within the next five weeks.
Love,
Cloud
--
Dear Mother,
Can we say fiasco? Oh, my team held up pretty well, I thought. But that was only because we didn’t all need to be sent to the infirmary. Some of the other teams - they all had to be carried off the field. So much for a training exercise. It was more like a massacre, minus the gore.
Start a story at the beginning, that’s what you always said, right? Let me try that again then. The exercise was purportedly to teach us how to think on our feet in a simulated battle. It’s different fighting in a battle than when you’re going through pre-scripted katas, of course, so you can see the need for exercises like this one. What they did, was have us split into five teams. The instructors made up the sixth team - they, along with two other teams, would be the enemy. The other three teams (which was where I was) were to be ShinRa military, fighting them off. On top of that, we were put into battle conditions. In other words, it was a field exercise and we had to expect ambushes and all that sort of thing. It was up to us to decide how and when to attack.
Obviously the other two teams had a bit of an advantage, since they had the instructors on their side. But the instructors only stepped in whenever someone from one of those teams had been disabled, so it wasn’t too bad. Or it wouldn’t have been, had there not been three Soldiers on the instructor’s team! No sooner did we take out one of the opposing team than we were cut down. We might as well have rolled over and played dead. And the Soldiers aren’t like the instructors; they don’t pull their blows. Just blocking their swords was horribly painful, and my muscles are still protesting. That, there, is why some people had to be carted off the field.
In any case, the three “ShinRa” teams managed to eliminate the other two teams completely, before the instructors’ team decided to wallop us a good one. By that time we only had about six people left, including me, and all of us were already tired. I’m pleased to report that I lasted the longest, but even then… I only lasted about three minutes against the Soldier I fought. I couldn’t even get on an offensive against him, he had me constantly defending. The skills that Soldiers possess honestly leave me in complete awe, mother. I’m not sure I’ll ever reach that level.
But let’s not dwell on that. It might have been a massacre, but it was a great learning experience. We have the next two days off to recover, and for once I don’t think anyone’s thinking of partying. We’re too busy nursing our bruised egos and bodies. And speaking of which, my arm aches terribly now, so I’ll close here.
Love,
Cloud
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Dear Mother,
Zachary asked me today if I’d like to spar with him sometime. My response probably wasn’t the most elegant I could have given - I spat my water out onto my food. Well, he shouldn’t have asked something so very ridiculous when I was eating, I say. The others were just staring at me and him alternately. I don’t think any of us were expecting that request, least of all me!
Well, when I finally managed to recover enough to ask him what he was smoking, he said that he was perfectly serious. I hadn’t really paid attention to the fights at the end of the training exercise - remember, I told you about that last time? I was sort of preoccupied with the Soldier I was fighting. As it turned out, that Soldier was First Class, the only one on the instructors’ team. According to Zachary (he told me this later in private), most of the privates just about keeled over and died once they were attacked by the other Soldiers (all Second Class). The fact that I was able to defend for a few minutes before I slipped up apparently caught the Soldiers’ attention, and they mentioned me to Zachary. So now he wants to see what I’m really made of, in his words.
I was tempted to reply that I’m made up of much the same anyone else is - cells. But you’ll be proud to know I refrained. The way he phrased it, it was an order pretending to be a request. So we’ve fixed a date for next week for us to spar.
I’m fully expecting him to mop the floor with me in two seconds flat, what do you think?
Love,
Cloud
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Dear Mother,
Well, I did it! I sparred against Zachary! I took your advice and tried to think positive, but about all I’d managed by the time of the fight was promise myself that he’d have to fight to take me down. I think I managed that, a little. He wasn’t fighting at his full capacity, I don’t think, but he did take a while to break through my defence. I even managed to go on the offensive once; but after that he stepped up his attacks, took back control and forced me on defence again. That was when he became a little more serious about the fight, and started really showing me just why he’s a Soldier First Class. After that I only lasted a minute or so before he managed to quite neatly rid me of my sword.
I take pleasure in the fact that he was slightly winded at the end of the spar. Not noticeably, of course, but even he admitted to me that it was a decent workout. Not long enough, he says, and he also says that I need to bulk up more. He spent the next hour or so telling me everything I did wrong, everything I did right, and how I could improve on both. Apparently the way I handle a sword’s fairly decent, but if I got a bit more muscle on me, I’d have the strength to follow up on my attacks. So it’s back to the gym now for me, except this time, Zachary insists on overseeing my regime. He says he’s going to start me on pumping weights, which I’ve not done before. Privates aren’t supposed to, unless spotted by someone at least Sergeant rank and above; and I haven’t exactly asked any of them to do that.
This is a good thing, I think. Zachary said that I’m actually ahead of my class. I’m almost afraid I’ll get a swollen head, but then I think of the way the Soldiers fought, and I think of the way that General Sephiroth fought, and I know I’m so far from that level it’s not even funny. So no danger of my ego inflating too much, but I’m really glad that Zachary’s taken such an interest in me. He’s proven to be a great friend (his sense of humour’s a lot better than Reno’s, I think) and now he’ll be a great instructor as well, I’ll bet.
I think I actually benefit when I’m being taught by someone who doesn’t pull their blows. When the instructors do, I don’t really get a feel for what that kind of a strike can do, you see. Half of how I learn is by mimicking the instructors, and if they’re always striking at half-force, I’ll never know how to hit full-force. Zachary has no such compunctions - every shot he throws at me is full-force, as I found out during our spar. He wasn’t using his best moves, but what he was using, he did at full strength. My arms can attest to that; they were quivering just a couple of minutes in.
Oh! Zachary said that he loved your strudel, by the way. He sent his thanks and said he was only sorry the portion wasn’t larger. He also claims that the General liked the strudel, but he refused to meet my eyes when he said that, so I’m not sure how accurate that is. I can’t conceive of anyone not liking your strudel, so I’m convinced he ate the General’s portion for him. In any case, he was dropping unsubtle hints that he’d love to sample more of your cooking, so if it isn’t too much bother, could you send a bit more?
Love,
Cloud
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Dear Mother,
You’re a hit! You sent so much food that I could give Zachary a huge portion. And this time, I passed it to him in the mess hall, and the General was actually there, so I could offer him a piece myself. Zachary and the General always have lunch alone together in the hall, so at least I didn’t have anyone staring at me incredulously when I did. General Sephiroth ate it then and there, and he said it was delicious, and this was the first time he’d ever tasted apple strudel that good - at which point I gave Zachary a very pointed look, and he refused to look anywhere near me and started whistling horribly out of tune. It seems my guess was accurate after all.
So anyway, not only do Zachary and General Sephiroth love your strudel, so do my squad-mates. I was able to share with all thirty of them this time (honestly, how did you manage to bake that much?) although we had smaller portions than Zachary and the General got, of course. You’re much beloved by them now, and they are the reason there is a necklace in this envelope as well. They all chipped in to pay for it, and Zachary made the run out to town (he gets more privileges than we do). I personally think it’s a very unsubtle hint for you to just get down here and cook for us everyday. The cafeteria staff seemed a little sullen that their plastic food was being forsaken for your strudel…
So to cut a long story short, far too many members of the military here have fallen in love with you. Should I get out the cudgels to beat off your admirers, mother?
Love,
Cloud
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Dear Mother,
You are a brilliant gem of a person. Are you planning on sending food every week now?
I’ve decided to restrict your culinary delights to my bunkmates, Zachary and General Sephiroth now. If I start handing out food to everyone, I’ll have people after me at all hours of the day, asking if you’ve sent any more. My bunkmates are bad enough as it is now! I swear they look forward to my weekly mail more than I do! I’d love to see their faces if your letter arrived without a package attached…
My bunkmates also can’t believe that I can cook. Of course, my cooking’s nowhere on the level of yours, but I think I can whip up a pretty decent meal, don’t you? None of the nine can cook to save their lives, or so they claim. Reno regaled us with a story of how he managed to mess up boiling water. This was a week or so after he’d been taken in by an orphanage. He was hungry and wanted to make some oats for himself, so he set some water to boil. Then he got distracted by some kids playing outside, and went out to join them. He comes back an hour or so later to find the water had boiled away to nothing and the pot was just about ready to melt. I find it hard to believe anyone can be so culinarily uninclined, but evidently, there are people like that who exist. I just didn’t think I’d have to share a dorm with nine of them!
Zachary’s somehow managed to extract a promise from me to go over to his quarters this weekend and cook something for him. Soldiers get quarters that are more like apartments, you see. So they have kitchens, but a lot of the Soldiers just eat at the mess hall because they can’t be bothered cooking. Zachary shares his apartment with General Sephiroth, but he said that the General probably won’t be there when I come over. We’re planning on some weight training at the gym, then a quick spar in the afternoon - and after that I’ll head over to his quarters with him and make us dinner. I admit an ulterior motive… I don’t have a kitchen or ingredients, so I’m forced to eat plastic food. At least this Saturday, I can be sure I’ll have good food to eat!
Is it just me, or does it seem like all my letters lately are about food?
Love,
Cloud
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