Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ First Class ❯ The Perils of Cooking ( Chapter 3 )

The Perils of Cooking

 

Sephiroth was reminded exactly why he hated cooking as he searched around for a towel or something to wrap around his hand, while dripping blood on his spotless countertop and floor. Every time he had attempted it, he hand ended up injured, covered in some sort of food item or nearly setting his apartment on fire.

 

He finally located a towel and wrapped it tightly around his injured hand, then leaned back against the counter. What the hell was he going to do now? He really didn't want to go to the infirmary and have to tell them that he had cut his hand while trying to slice an onion; it would be all over the building within days that the “Great General Sephiroth” couldn't cook.

 

He briefly thought of calling Zack, but his friend was out with that trooper friend of his, Cloud, and probably wouldn't be back for several more hours. He also didn't particularly want to be laughed at, so calling Zack was out.

 

Frowning, he threw the offending onion in the sink and sat down on the floor, his back against the cabinets. He pressed his other hand over the wounded one and winced as pain shot through it. He pressed harder, hoping that the wound wasn't so deep that pressure wouldn't stop the bleeding.

 

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard his door open, but didn't get up. Only one person would dare enter his apartment without knocking.

 

“Seph?”

 

Sure enough, it was Zack. Sephiroth wondered why he was back so early.

 

“In here,” he said, and readied himself for the laughter that was sure to accompanied Zack seeing him and his kitchen in such a condition.

 

He heard Zack kick his boots off and then footsteps, before he appeared in the doorway.

 

“What the hell?” he said, looking confused. He glanced around the kitchen before his eyes fell on Sephiroth and the blood spots on the floor.

 

He rushed in and crouched down next to Sephiroth. “What in the world did you do?”

 

“I was attempting to cut an onion,” Sephiroth said, determined not to let his embarrassment show.

 

Zack looked at his wrapped hand and sighed. “You're hopeless…”

 

Sephiroth glared at him and Zack rolled his eyes.

 

“Don't you have any bandages or anything?” Zack said, “Or were you just going to sit there and bleed to death?”

 

“I would not bleed to death,” Sephiroth said, “and no, I don't have bandages, since I rarely need them.”

 

Zack shook his head and stood. “Hang on. I'll be right back,” he said and left.

 

Sephiroth leaned back again and wondered at the oddity that was Zack. Here he was, sitting on his kitchen floor, having made a complete fool of himself, and Zack hadn't laughed at him; he hadn't even cracked a joke about it.

 

Zack returned not five minutes later with a roll of bandages and sat down next to him.

 

“Here,” he said, holding out his hand, “Let me see it.”

 

“I know how to bandage a wound, Zack,” Sephiroth said, reaching for the roll of bandages.

 

Zack pulled them away. “I know you can,” he said, “but not very well with one hand.”

 

Sephiroth had to admit that his second-in-command had a point and he surrendered his hand. Zack took it and pulled it toward him and Sephiroth tried not to flinch. He hated to be touched, which was something he knew that Zack was aware of.

 

Zack unwrapped the towel and let out his breath with a whistle. “Damn…”

 

Zack let go of his hand and stood up. He went over to the sink and wet the towel before returning to Sephiroth's side and picking up his hand again.

 

Zack wiped the wound with the towel and Sephiroth held back a hiss of pain.

 

“You should've just ordered something in,” Zack said. He set the cloth down and started winding the bandage around Sephiroth's hand.

 

“And have to deal with another awestruck delivery boy?” Sephiroth said, “No thank you.”

 

Zack finished wrapping the bandage and tucked the end in before standing up and extending his hand to Sephiroth.

 

Sephiroth accepted it and allowed Zack to help him up. He then noticed just how many blood spots there were on the counters and floor.

 

“I should clean up,” he said.

 

“You do that,” Zack said, “I'm ordering a damn pizza.”

 

Sephiroth didn't have time to remark about how bad pizza was for you, for Zack was already gone. He picked up the towel off the floor where Zack had left it and proceeded to wipe up all the blood.

 

Just as he was finishing, Zack reappeared. “I just remembered something I meant to ask you earlier.”

 

Sephiroth raised and eyebrow. “Hmm?”

 

“Do you want to spar with me in the morning?” Zack said, “I've been feeling a little off lately and could use some practice.”

 

“Alright,” Sephiroth said.

 

Zack grinned. “Good. And I'm sure you'll enjoy having the upper hand, since, after all, I'm not an onion.”

 

Zack barely had time to duck as Sephiroth threw said onion directly at his head.