Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Shattered Dreams ❯ Listen ( Chapter 41 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: dracoqueen22 
Tseng recovers from his... breakdown... and the team discusses what to do about Balaam. Zack and Seph share a moment.
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Hentai / Drama / Action | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 08.29.2006 | Pages: 5 | Words: 7.2K | Visits: 260 | Status: Completed
Tseng recovers from his... breakdown... and the team discusses what to do about Balaam. Zack and Seph share a moment.
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Hentai / Drama / Action | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 08.29.2006 | Pages: 5 | Words: 7.2K | Visits: 260 | Status: Completed
Thanks to readers and reviewers!!!
Dree: Lol. I promise, I’ll update on Tuesday! If not sooner. Glad you’re enjoying. And yes I agree. The Wutaiians are quite cruel to him and his family. It probably doesn’t get any better either....
Ri: I’m glad it affected you emotionally. That was what I was aiming for. I really enjoying drawing out the little known characters and making them more prominent. And Tseng is just perfect to angst with. Now all he needs is a cuddly and he’ll be alright... preferably one with long silver hair maybe? I hope I can ease your confusion in the future.
BoroBoro: Thanks! Tseng is pretty strong. This chapter will help show that. I’ll build on the angst, sure enough. But somewhere there’s a happy ending. At least for this one. I’m glad you liked that plot point about Yuffie and Tseng. Thanks!!
Miko: Well, sad is my speciality. I’m sorry I made you cry though I do consider it a compliment. Thanks!! I hope this one encourages you a little more... though now that I think about it, it might make you cry, too. Gomen...
Pooky: You bring up a very interesting point. 1) I’m glad that you don’t completely hate my revival of dead characters. Personally, I am also one of those who don’t like that plot point. I hope to counterbalance that usage with the ‘deaths’ of some other characters... I’m not naming any names but I’m sure you will be surprised. I did realize somewhat belatedly however, than when I originally planned this, no one stayed dead with the exception of Hojo and Rufus. It’s not really realistic. 2) In terms of the words, anima and animus, I borrowed the concept from Xenogears. If you have ever played that game, you will know what I am speaking of. Some of the usages were switched around to suit my purpose, but essentially, the basic principal is that the ‘animum’ of the world, the mortals, were aligned with the ‘anima’ which were the ‘omnigears’, or specialized mechanized fighters that the user operated from within. So in short... I did not specifically use their latin definitions. Whew. Thanks for the bribe! I’m updating twice this week! LOL. If you still have questions, feel free to ask!
Chapter 41: Listen
Zack wasn’t sure when he acquired an affinity for high places. Not that he enjoyed flying like Cid or anything like that. He just appreciated being somewhere up above the masses, which was why he was found sitting on the ledge of the roof of the ShinRa building, feet dangling over the edge. The roof was still blackened from the blast earlier and smelled of sulfur, but the fresh breeze from the high winds was enough for him.
For one of the first times in his life, he had sought solitude, to think of the events that had occurred over the past few days.
It was sunset, that much he could see from his perch. He looked over the entire city, calmed by the scenery. The crumpled and blasted buildings were like grave markers for the fallen metropolis, but they weren’t what captivated his attention. It was the changing colors of the sky with the setting sun that he enjoyed.
But still, it didn’t do much to calm the pain in his heart. His parents were dead before he ever got a chance to tell them goodbye, much like the first time. There were few people that he truly cared for in the world, despite his cheery attitude and ability to make friends with just about anyone. He had a skill for that, bringing others to his side and seeing what each person needed. Yet, very few people had been able to get absolutely close to him.
Sephiroth was one of the first to actually see him, if that made any sense. His cheerful and carefree attitude was one of many masks, and the former General had been the one to see that. Of course, it hadn’t been easy getting past Sephiroth’s walls and masks either.
The smallish and needy Cloud had also been someone Zack had been close to, probably because he felt the boy needed looking after. In a way, the blond reminded Zack of himself before he became the happy guy that everyone knew him to be.
And then, there were his parents of course... his true ones, not the ones that were blood-related. His mother was always kind and funny with a sharp wit. His father, Lexas Loire… the one who had adopted him and not his sperm donor, had been very kind also and rather noble. Despite their lack of common blood, Zack had gladly taken Lexas’ name and accepted him as his father, hating the man that had made his mother cry, that had made his life as a child a living hell. The ex-SOLDIER would never forget the honorable man, Lexas, who had saved his mother and from he their hellish existence.
Now, they were dead, both of them. According to Vincent, they were victims of a demon’s rage because the monsters were searching for him. He wasn’t surprised to find that his parents had taken in a stranger, caring for him. It was just the type of people that they were, and the thought made him smile.
He had seen guilt in Vincent’s eyes, but he didn’t blame the gunman at all. The ex-Turk couldn’t have known what was going to happen and had done his best to prevent the complete destruction of Gongaga. Not to mention the fact that Vincent had completely lost his memory. In truth, Zack was glad that the ex-Turk had given his parents hope for even a moment, even though he knew that they had realized Vincent was not their son.
He wondered what he would do now with this second chance at life. When the world was saved, he was certain that was what was going to happen, how would he continue his life? Would the Planet return him to the Lifestream after their victory? Or could he dare think to try and live?
The former ShinRa mused on what his purpose would be after the fight. Would he be able to find love, like his friend?
He smirked at the thought.
Sephiroth did not even know it yet, but he could already see it. The truth had been there since before Nibelheim, but the former General had not been able to understand it. Sephiroth was oblivious to things like that. No, wait, maybe oblivious wasn’t the right term. It was more like the silver-haired man noticed but wasn’t sure what he was seeing. He just couldn’t fathom such things. Although with his upbringing, it was rather understandable.
“Still tempting the fates, I see,” came a smooth and deep voice, one that Zack recognized easily. He didn’t even have to turn to see who it was.
‘Well, speak of the devil,’ the ex-SOLDIER thought. A smile quirked at the corner of his lips.
“I’m not in any danger,” Zack put in out loud. “You’re the one that’s afraid of the edge,” he teased.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his best friend sit down beside him, leather clad leg swinging over the edge as he brought the foot of the other to lay on the edge. One leather clad arm leaned on it, dark silver-streaked hair shifting into view.
“I am cautious,” Sephiroth said as he turned to face the other man. “There’s a difference.”
They were at least fifteen stories up, not that it seemed to bother either one of them. Both simply sat, staring out into the distance.
Zack grinned, lightly punching the former General in the shoulder. “So you say.”
Sephiroth shrugged before again turning his gaze to the rapidly setting sun, the sky already a dark purple and orange with the fading light. His hair fell across his face, and he absentmindedly brushed it back.
“You used to find high places when you wanted to be alone and brood,” Seraph inserted slowly. “Has that changed?”
Zack raised an eyebrow. “I wanted to be alone.” He paused, as if something had just occurred to him. “Why are you here?”
“Do you want me to leave?” the other man inquired with a hint of sadness.
The spiky-haired man shifted his position, bringing up one knee so that he mimicked his companion’s stance. “Nah, it’s good, but you’re right. I came here to brood.”
“I won’t pry,” Sephiroth responded easily enough. “I will just sit here in silence.”
And so they did for a time. The pair sat quietly, just admiring the forces of nature around them. It was a companionable moment between two friends. However, it was soon broken, and Zack was the first to speak again.
“Will you tell me what happened? Five years ago?”
Sephiroth went still at the question, silent for so long that his friend began to regret asking the painful question. He opened his mouth to tell his companion that he didn’t have to say anything when the former General finally spoke.
“Can you imagine,” Sephiroth began slowly as he brought his right hand up in front of him, “what it feels like to realize your life is the result of a lab experiment?” His eyes were distant and clouded.
Slowly, he pulled off his leather glove, a thing that he rarely removed. On the back of his hand, there was a symbol, printed in dark, black ink. It was simple really, a stylized version of the number zero, but to Sephiroth, it was a source of much rage and heartache.
He paused for a moment, but Zack had nothing to say not interrupting. He had seen the tattoo before, one time and completely on accident. However, he had never questioned Sephiroth, knowing just how private the man could be.
“I’ve had this tattoo all my life,” the former General went on faintly, rubbing a thumb over the black ink before putting his glove back on. “As well as, constant visits to my father… I mean, Hojo’s lab.” Sephiroth laughed then, and it was a bitter sound. “He told me I had an illness only he could cure. I never knew that the illness was really a pseudonym for the alien Jenova, which coursed through my veins.”
Zack nodded sympathetically. “I, too, have been under the madman’s knife. It’s a none too pleasant experience.” He thought back to those four years when he had been in Hojo’s captivity along with Cloud after the Nibelheim incident. He recalled the needles and the blood, the unspeakable horrors. The thought alone made him shudder, and it was a motion that Sephiroth did not fail to notice.
“I had begun to wonder before we went to the reactor and saw all those monsters in the tubes. I knew something was different about me; something was wrong, but I didn’t know what.” He exhaled, staring at the almost disappeared sun. Sephiroth absentmindedly ran his hand over his arm, ghosting over the still lingering scars left by Hojo. They were from experiments so bloody that not even Jenova could fully heal them.
“Then, we found the name Jenova over the experiment, and my curiosity grew into obsession,” the former General carried on. “I had to know. I couldn’t keep wondering about the truth of my heritage.” He exhaled again.
“In the basement laboratory beneath the ShinRa mansion, I discovered all I needed to know, more than I ever wanted to know,” Sephiroth stated, his voice oddly neutral, as though he were relating nothing more personal than the weather. “I suspected but never anything like that. No matter what I had thought, I still wasn’t prepared to deal with it. It was just too much.” The General shook his head. “And in my moment of anger and distress… weakness, Jenova began speaking to me.”
He looked up, pained eyes meeting crystalline blue. “It was me – me alone that burned Nibelheim to the ground, murdered the residents, attacked Cloud and you… dove into the Lifestream.” Seraph hesitated. “Those were my choices. And for that, I am sorry.” The hurt and regret were evident in his eyes.
Zack shook his head. “You may say that it was you, but even I could tell that something was wrong. Who’s to say they would react in a normal matter if they ever found out that their life was anything but normal.” He stared out over at the fading lights of the sunset. “I know I’d have been furious.”
Sephiroth nodded. “Fury was only one of my many emotions. Disgust, hatred, bloodlust were all swirling about within me. Perhaps if I had gone to you rather than listening to Jenova’s seductive whispers, I might have acted differently.” He trembled faintly, fighting his way from might-have-beens. Zack laid a hand on his arm suddenly, causing his eyes to flicker to his friend.
“Yet, she spoke of vengeance and destroying that which caused my pain,” Sephiroth continued after a moment. “Nibelheim and its residents were my first target and then, the rest of ShinRa. If it hadn’t been for Cloud and you attempting to stop me, who knows what else I may have done,” he confessed. “Afterwards, when I was finally starting to realize what I had done, Jenova quickly convinced me to leap into the mako of the reactor.”
“She had deafened you to me,” Zack inserted. “That bitch...” he trailed off, gloved hand curling into a fist.
The former General merely inclined its head in understanding. “I never would have hurt you in my right mind.” It seemed he kept repeating that fact. “I never wanted to hurt anyone that I care for.” His eyes fell on that sudden confession, his thoughts going back to all he had harmed. One face in particular whipped through his mind, one who’s fate had barely been saved.
Zack grinned slightly, giving a light tap to his friend’s shoulder. “I knew it,” he teased. “You always had a thing for dark-haired men.” He wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis.
Sephiroth flushed deeply, and he was soon horrified to discover that his face flamed with embarrassment at his friend’s suggestive words. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the blushing as he sought words for the proper come back. Yet, before he could respond, the emotions on the swordsman’s face changed from teasing to grim.
“I wonder if he will be alright,” Zack questioned aloud. He was referring to the Turk Commander and the man’s strange outburst from earlier that day. Tseng had been resting since then, his fellow Turks never leaving his side.
The mossy-eyed male frowned, idly looking at his gloved hand again, the one that hid his bizarre tattoo. “I can sympathize with his plight,” he commented. “It is not something that is easily dealt with.”
The other man nodded but didn’t say anything. He simply wrapped his arm on his friend’s shoulder, giving him a one-armed but much needed embrace.
The sound of the roof top door clicking shut alerted the pair to the fact that they were no longer alone, and a cheerful voice rang out as they were approached by their visitor.
“I see you still have an affinity for the high places,” commented Aeris, moving until she stood between the two males, laying a friendly chin on Zack’s shoulder.
The dark-haired man grinned, jerking a thumb towards the former General. “That is the same thing Sephiroth said. You guys strangely think alike.”
The flower-girl laughed. “We just know you well; that is all.”
Zack rubbed the back of his head with his hand and sighed, though a smile was definitely on his face. “A man has no secrets any longer.”
Sephiroth shrugged. “It’s not as if you can keep anything quiet. You always were a blabbermouth… and predictable as well.”
“Geez. What is this, pick on Zack day? If it’s not you two, then it’s that blonde Turk always degrading my skills.”
“Poor Zack,” murmured the lone female, patting him soothingly on the back. Then, a bright smile appeared on her face. “Oh well. Come on, you guys; we’ve got to get back to the conference room. We have to finish discussing everything.”
Sephiroth frowned. “Has Tseng awoken?”
Aeris shook her head. “I’m not sure. The Turks are really close knit. They won’t let anyone but Reeve in to see him. Though, I can understand, especially given the situation.”
The spiky-haired man slung his legs around and rose to his feet stretching languidly with a loud yawn accompanying. “Well, let’s go then. More boring conversation, ahoy.”
The laughter of his friends followed him.
***
Silvery eyes fluttered open, and he found that he was facing a most familiar and rather plain, white wall across the other side of an empty bed. It was not unlike the one in the resting room of ShinRa Corporation. He blinked blearily, his entire body feeling tired. It was then that he noticed his throat was raw, and his eyes felt blood shot, as if he had been crying. He hadn’t done that in years. Not since...
The memories came flooding back in a torrent and he had to stifle a groan. He had snapped... truly snapped. He couldn’t believe he had shown that part of himself to everyone and now, they all knew his secret. That which he had been trying to hide so hard had now come to light. He wondered what they thought of him.
The slight murmur of voices behind him alerted the man to the fact he was not alone. He could distinctly hear Reno’s slow drawl and Rude’s quiet answer. The smell of gun oil let him know that Elena was there as well.
He was surprised that they had not deserted him. Why were they still here? Didn’t they think him an abomination?
He was still reluctant to roll over, beginning to feel the slight burn of shame on his face. He had acted in a manner most unbecoming to someone like him. He didn’t want to see them after what had happened; he didn’t want to see the looks on their faces.
(They are your friends,) came a voice in his mind. (They would not think ill of you.)
There it was again. It was the same voice that had tormented him not only the entire day before but also for several months. It was the one he had been pushing aside, along with others all his life, the one that had brought him many migraines, the one that just wouldn’t go away no matter how hard he tried.
He grimaced and closed his eyes, trying to push away the unwelcome guest. ‘Go away,’ he returned. ‘I don’t want this. I do not want you here.’
(Have you not learned yet? You are not your mother, my child. This is not Wutai, and I am no ordinary voice!)
Tseng furrowed his brow and concentrated wholly on his mental walls, the ones he had built through the years to block out the whispers in his mind. He slammed up the barriers, hearing them ringing with a finality in his mind, and the voice was cut off. The protests filtered down to a low trickle and then... nothing.
Peaceful, blissful... and sane silence.
The bed creaked as someone sat beside him, a hand threading gentle fingers through his hair. “You might as well turn and face us,” came the distinctly familiar voice of Elena. “We all detected your change in breathing.” She laughed lightly. “After all, you did train us.”
It hurt to say it, but he had to ask. “I am considering why you all have not yet deserted me.”
A derisive snort was his answer. He recognized the sound as only belonging to Reno. “You might be half off your rocker, but you’re still our boss, yo. After all, we ain’t all there ourselves, ya know?”
There was a slight and stifled “Ow!” that followed that statement, most likely because Rude had elbowed his itinerant former partner.
“Reno is right, idiot he may be,” the sole female added in. “We may not understand what’s going on, but we all admire you, boss. And although we work under you, we also consider you a friend. Desertion is not part of our code.”
Tseng had to fight back the choking feeling in his throat.
Friends, huh?
When was the last time he had ever allowed himself close enough to someone to consider them his true friends? He had always thought of those nearest to him as his acquaintances, but he had kept even Reeve at a safe distance. It was better that way… and far less painful. No one knew his secrets, and it was safer that way. But now, perhaps he could be allowed that luxury.
He was far from accepting the voices, and still mourned the loss of his home land, distant memory though it was. Yet, maybe, just maybe he might be able to adjust.
“What do you wish to know?” he inquired quietly.
“Nothing you don’t want to tell us,” came Rude’s response. “We trust you, sir.”
The room fell into an easy silence as Tseng considered his statement. He wondered if he was ready to just explain it all: the fear and the worry, what he had been hiding, and the truth of the matter. However, he knew in his heart that he was not. To say it aloud would make it real, to say it aloud meant he would have to confront the voices and accept them. He would have to listen and understand.
And Tseng wasn’t ready for that.
He moved to sit up, Elena’s hands removing themselves from his hair. He slid off the bed and fixed his clothing, smoothing down mussed hair and wrinkles as he kept his back to his subordinates. He heard the bed creak as the blonde female left the bed as well.
They waited for him to make a move, for him to say something. He was instantly proud to be their commander, prouder than he had ever been as a member of the old ShinRa. He was glad for the opportunity he had and that fortune had brought him such wonderful friends. For the first time in his life, and for only the briefest of moments, Tseng was glad that he had been exiled. Yet, the feeling was fleeting as he also realized what all he had lost.
He turned around then, finally feeling back to his old form, and he eyed his subordinates carefully. “Has the meeting ended then?” the Wutaiian questioned.
Rude shook his head. “They stopped it after… the incident,” he put in smoothly, barely hesitating over his word choice. “I believe it restarted about ten minutes ago.”
“Then, we had best be going,” Tseng commented, gracefully stepping around the side of the bed. “We are late already.”
“Yes, sir,” commented the other three with snapping feet and a salute. It was a comforting gesture to the Wutaiian Turk. He walked past them, heading for the door, missing the secretive smiles the trio shared.
***
“Where is Balaam, then? If, in fact, we are going to try and stop him,” Cloud questioned, the first to speak as everyone returned to the conference room. Nevertheless, the absence of the Turks was very duly noted. No one was going to speak of it, however, not even the ever tactless Barret or Cid.
Erebus shook his head. All of the anima’s were in attendance as well.
“No one knows. He’s gone into hiding, presumably to regain his lost powers and body while he works out his plans,” Vincent’s anima stated slowly.
“Can’t you just... I dunno, track him or something?” Cid asked, waving his hands. “Can’t you all sense each other or some *%$#&!@ shit like that?”
“It’s not like we were born with radar or something, yo.” Asclepius giggled. Though her animus was not present, she was. The green-haired teenager sat in Reno’s seat, occasionally twirling about in the chair, while Erebus gave her amused and secretly besotted looks.
Gilgamesh sighed and tossed his head. “We have no choice but to search for him. Literally, he could be hiding anywhere. His attacks have been varied and worldwide. It will be difficult to even pinpoint a direction from which they originated.”
“Besides,” added in Erebus. “Father is hiding his aura from us. Not even I can tell where he is. Remember who he is, the demi-god of Chaos. It is not a difficult task to confuse our senses.”
Zack mused thoughtfully, but it was Sephiroth who questioned, for the first time drawing attention to himself. “When and where was the last time he attacked?” War tactics such as what they were discussing were his forte, being a former General and all. It was in such a discussion that he felt most comfortable.
“If the Bandragora attacking Wutai were by his orders, then that would have been the day before yesterday,” Reeve responded with a frown to his face.
“He has only attacked major cities so far,” added in Cid. “Cosmo Canyon, Neo-Midgar, Junon…” He ticked the locations off on his fingers. “It’s as if he was trying to stop us before the war even began.”
Erebus shook his head. “Not necessarily. He wants you to suffer; he wants all of us to suffer.” He frowned as he thought on the rantings of his father, and his requests for his son to join him. “To fight him, you have to understand why he even started this war to begin with.”
Yet, before anyone could even question, the door to the conference room clicked open, and the Turks began to file in one by one. Reno was the first to appear, quickly taking his place beside his lover and kicking Asclepius out of his seat. Behind him came Tseng, who was trying his best to look as sure of himself as he could. Nonetheless, he felt the weight of every gaze on him, and it made him uneasy.
He waited for the questions; he steeled himself for the prying wonderment. He had many answers already planned, though he wasn’t sure if he could speak them. His tongue felt heavy, and his heart fluttered in his chest. To speak the truth after so long, it felt as if he was betraying a part of himself to do so. He didn’t know if he could do it, if he was strong enough.
However, the questions never came. No one spoke a word as he took a seat between Reeve and Elena, the blonde patting his leg underneath the table. He could still feel the weight of every stare upon him, and somehow, the lack of questions only made it worse. It was almost as if they pitied him or feared for his sanity. He began to wonder which he would rather suffer: the questions or the pity.
Rude was the last to enter, taking the last available chair between Cid and Yuffie.
“Well,” scoffed the pilot. “Now that the Turks are here, we can finally get to the real discussion.” He wasn’t being tactless, just reacting as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. He waved a hand at Vincent’s anima, gesturing for him to continue.
“Right.” Erebus nodded. “As I was saying, if you want to fight against Balaam, you have to realize the measures he will take… and just how badly he wants to win. You have to be prepared for anything because, I assure you, he believes that his reason for fighting is just as valid as your own.”
They weren’t going to say anything at all to him. Tseng realized this with a vague sort of detachment. His eyes slid to Yuffie, wondering if his cousin had revealed it all or if she had left them in the dark as well. With Erebus speaking again, most of the gazes had reverted to the demi-god, and no one was looking at him any longer, as though they were afraid to rock the boat. He frowned slightly, again questioning himself.
“What?” snorted Barret. “!%$#%*& wants power, right? Or destruction or money or some fool ass $@!% like that, huh?”
Gilgamesh shook his head. “Nothing quite so vulgar or inane as such. He seeks something less trivial, something I have no doubt mortals have longed for as well, something they have fought and died for on many an occasion.”
“What could that be?” Aeris asked breathlessly. “Surely as a demi-god he could have anything he ever wanted.”
Vincent shook his head, speaking without being asked first for one of the few times since he had known AVALANCHE. “Freedom,” he responded quietly. “For although they are given the greatest power in the world, they are bound by the chains of duty and promise.”
To this, Erebus inclined his head. “You are correct. We demi-gods are given great powers, in varied areas, with tasks to watch over mortal-kind and delegate the wonders and elements of Gaia. But as with all power, it comes with a price. We have rules we must obey, restrictions that we must follow. Balaam envied the mortals for their choice since truly we have none.”
“You speak blasphemy!” Ishvara uttered, shaking her head so that her blue hair floated behind her in a wave. There was a tone of chastisement in her voice. “To claim that these mortals have more than us, that we ENVY them!”
Gilgamesh rolled his eyes. “We are only speaking of the desires of Balaam’s heart, not of all those present. But yes, in a way, I do think that we lack certain things. The freedom to chose as we see fit one of them.” His gaze drifted to all those gathered.” After all, I was borne from the chaos and given great power... but I can’t use it in any way I chose.”
“Then you would follow the path of your son?” Raijin questioned, wonderment in his tone.
“We are not having this discussion here!” uttered Seiryu in a voice tight with restraint. At this point, most of the mortals had begun to look upon their anima with great curiosity on their faces. “I will not have a repeat of the Conclave!” His voice was chastising but a tone that everyone thought to obey, much different than that of Ishvara’s. The demi-gods and goddesses fell into silence.
There was a brief pause around the table as the mortals searched for something to say, surprised by the obviously unintentional outburst of the demi-deities.
“Very well then,” Reeve began clearing his throat. Obviously, tensions were high and stress becoming a large factor, even causing normally stoic men to break out into fits of insanity. He forced himself not to look at Tseng at that thought.
“We obviously cannot stop Balaam until we know where to look.” The executive turned towards the demi-gods. “How long until his power returns to him?”
“Since I have grown conscious of the events, his power has been slowed to a trickle,” Vincent commented.
“I would say we have another month at the most,” Seiryu answered with a slight frown. “Perhaps two weeks at the least, but we really cannot tell. It is not as if this sort of thing has happened before.”
“Two weeks,” Tseng murmured in amazement, shaking his head. It was the first he had spoken since returning to the conference room. “That does not give us any time to find him at all.” All eyes shifted towards him, some with surprise registering on their features.
“What?” the Turk Commander queried testily, feeling impatience settling over him.
They sought to baby him, sought to shower him with pity just because of one outburst. He was a Turk… and Commander at that! This loss of respect, this pity, was more than he could handle. It hurt almost more than the questions would; it pained him with an intensity that surprised him, and he almost didn’t realize it before he rose to his feet.
“You do not need to tiptoe around me,” he commented, voice firm and not wavering in the slightest. “I am a Turk, one outburst will not change that. Ask your questions! I neither want nor desire your pity!” Those gathered shifted uncomfortably under his penetrating and intent gaze.
“Very well then,” responded Cloud quietly. “If that’s the way you want it.” He paused, shooting Reeve a look before continuing. “Who is your other?”
The calmly asked question was not what Tseng had been prepared to answer. He sat slowly back into his seat, expecting a query about what had happened or if he was going to be alright, not something basically wondering whether or not he had decided to heed the voices.
“I do not know,” the Turk replied slowly.
“But you are hearing his voice, yes?” Hephaestion questioned softly, the soothing tones enough to calm the Wutaiian’s racing heart.
Tseng shook his head. “Not anymore,” came his quiet answer. “I have blocked him out.”
“Boss,” replied Elena. “You should--“
He cut her off with a lifting of his hand before she could continue in her line of thought. “I am not ready to deal with these voices,” he answered her. “It is hard to fight against years of pretending and repression. I cannot easily accept them. I am sorry, but... that is how it must be.”
“Do not apologize,” came Tiamat’s reply. Silvery gaze met hers, and the look on the demi-goddess’ face was soothing to Tseng. “We regret not understanding. Ort-... your other should have known better,” she paused, brow furrowing in concentration. “In fact, I am surprised that at his age and wisdom, he did not.”
Asclepius became indignant. “Hey! Father knew exactly what he was doing. You just wait and see.”
A stern glare from Seiryu, and the little demi-goddess went silent, idly inching closer to Erebus. “Regardless, that is not up for discussion now. We must find Balaam; we haven’t time to waste,” spoke the big dragon.
Cloud nodded, rising to his feet. “Gaia is only so big,” he intoned. There aren’t that many places a demi-god and his army of denizens could be hiding. We will find him and destroy him before he can do any more harm.”
For the briefest of moments, the blond wondered how it came so easily to him, the ability to lead and make decisions. He wondered why they were always so willing to put their lives in his hands and why they even listened to him. The man who had forgotten his past, borrowed some one else’s, and once lusted after the greatest enemy they had ever faced… a man that was currently sitting at the table with them as well. Cloud hoped intently that he would always be worthy of that trust... and that he would never fail them, not like he had failed so long ago.
His eyes roamed over those before him, wondering which tasks he should assign to whom. Reeve would be needed to stay in Midgar and coordinate everything. Yuffie would probably want to return to Wutai and scope things out just as Nanaki would want to check on Cosmo Canyon. He still didn’t entirely trust Sephiroth and wanted the man close. Someone was still needed for defensive measures in Midgar, and someone needed to start a global search. He sighed before delegating tasks.
“Cid, transportation duty as usual.” He ignored the pilot’s muttered and annoyed curses. “Reeve, coordination duties. Yuffie, you are to go to Wutai, and, Nanaki, to Cosmo Canyon. Sephiroth, you and Zack are to remain here… where either me or Tseng can keep an eye on you.”
Wouldn’t that be fun? He ignored Zack’s entertained chuckle.
“Rude, you wouldn’t want to stray too far from Shera, so stay here in Midgar and help fight down the remnants of monsters.” The ex-SOLDIER paused, as if considering those remaining.
“I found a chip on one of the monsters,” offered up Elena helpfully. “I’ll get to inspecting that, I suppose.”
“I will search with Cid aboard the Highwind,” Vincent added quietly. “Perhaps I can sense Balaam where others cannot.” He frowned. “I still feel an odd connection to him.”
Cloud nodded. All that remained were Reno and Archer... and of course, Barret. Yet, the blond swordsman was still loathe to include the gun-armed man. He had wanted Barret to stay out of things to begin with, but the dark-skinned man was stubborn.
“Reno, Archer, surely one of you can drive a submarine?” the blond swordsman questioned, satisfied when both men nodded. “Perhaps you can search the underwater pathways. Barret, you can stay in Midgar as well.”
“It sounds like you have this all figured out,” Reeve commented.
Cloud nodded and prepared to respond, but Elena beat him to the punch, her statement coming completely out of nowhere.
“Well, this is all great and good,” she replied with a slight smile before turning a devious eye on her red-haired fellow Turk and his lover. “But when is the wedding in the middle of all this?”
Reeve fidgeted under her stare as all eyes turned towards them. Reno, however, beamed brightly. “See, here’s the thing,” the President started out slowly, blanching under Elena’s intent gaze.
“We’re already married!” announced Reno loudly. “We eloped in Wutai!”
“What?” Aeris and Elena said together, their vision of a nice, big wedding dying a horrible death. The flower-girl sniffled, her hormones getting the best of her.
The blond Turk’s jaw dropped in surprise. “But... all that planning!” she protested. “Everything Aeris and I worked so hard to accomplish!” Her brow furrowed... anger beginning to take over her shock. “How could you do this?” she demanded, as if it had been her own wedding to begin with.
Mrs. Strife chimed in, “After everything we’ve been through together, Reeve Tuesti!” The pregnant woman narrowed her gaze on the two men. “How could you?” she asked pleadingly.
“And you, Ichigo Reno!” Elena continued for her friend. “I’m sure this is all your doing!” She began to go off on a tangent then, Aeris joining her seconds later, spouting words the moment they reached her mind. Some were not even strung together in a coherent fashion.
“Now, Elena,” Tseng chastised slowly, but even he was quieted by her furious glare.
Reno opened his mouth to speak and then shut it, convinced that his voice would only increase the female’s ire. Beside him, Zack was struggling to contain his laughter as Sephiroth shook his head, a smile quirking at the corner of his mouth. Yuffie refused to hold it in, giggling her little head off as the two men shrunk under the combined might of Elena and Aeris. Cloud merely stared at the tabletop, trying to pretend that he wasn’t there and it wasn’t his wife going on an insane tirade.
It was a good five minutes later, after Zack had turned red from holding in his chuckles and finally exploded in gales of laughter and even Cloud had started to snicker, that the pair finally ran out of steam. The two woman dissolved into an exhale and final soft string of words. Everyone at the table was exchanging looks of bewilderment.
“Well,” the flower-girl demanded with a sniffle. “What have you to say for yourselves?”
Reno and Reeve exchanged equal looks of fear. “We were still hoping to have the ceremony,” said Reeve solemnly. “Unless of course, it would mean nothing to you now--”
Instantly, the blonde and brunette’s faces brightened. All of their ire was thrown out the window.
“Well, in that case,” Elena said. “I was thinking a blend of aquamarine and amber for your colors, what do you think?” she hastily asked her female cohort. Her chance in countenance was astounding.
All at once, everyone around the table burst out laughing, even Tseng and Sephiroth managing to join in with a slight chuckle. That alone eased the tension that had built within the room.
For the briefest of moments, everyone forgot about the lengthy tasks ahead of them.
***
Dree: Lol. I promise, I’ll update on Tuesday! If not sooner. Glad you’re enjoying. And yes I agree. The Wutaiians are quite cruel to him and his family. It probably doesn’t get any better either....
Ri: I’m glad it affected you emotionally. That was what I was aiming for. I really enjoying drawing out the little known characters and making them more prominent. And Tseng is just perfect to angst with. Now all he needs is a cuddly and he’ll be alright... preferably one with long silver hair maybe? I hope I can ease your confusion in the future.
BoroBoro: Thanks! Tseng is pretty strong. This chapter will help show that. I’ll build on the angst, sure enough. But somewhere there’s a happy ending. At least for this one. I’m glad you liked that plot point about Yuffie and Tseng. Thanks!!
Miko: Well, sad is my speciality. I’m sorry I made you cry though I do consider it a compliment. Thanks!! I hope this one encourages you a little more... though now that I think about it, it might make you cry, too. Gomen...
Pooky: You bring up a very interesting point. 1) I’m glad that you don’t completely hate my revival of dead characters. Personally, I am also one of those who don’t like that plot point. I hope to counterbalance that usage with the ‘deaths’ of some other characters... I’m not naming any names but I’m sure you will be surprised. I did realize somewhat belatedly however, than when I originally planned this, no one stayed dead with the exception of Hojo and Rufus. It’s not really realistic. 2) In terms of the words, anima and animus, I borrowed the concept from Xenogears. If you have ever played that game, you will know what I am speaking of. Some of the usages were switched around to suit my purpose, but essentially, the basic principal is that the ‘animum’ of the world, the mortals, were aligned with the ‘anima’ which were the ‘omnigears’, or specialized mechanized fighters that the user operated from within. So in short... I did not specifically use their latin definitions. Whew. Thanks for the bribe! I’m updating twice this week! LOL. If you still have questions, feel free to ask!
Chapter 41: Listen
Zack wasn’t sure when he acquired an affinity for high places. Not that he enjoyed flying like Cid or anything like that. He just appreciated being somewhere up above the masses, which was why he was found sitting on the ledge of the roof of the ShinRa building, feet dangling over the edge. The roof was still blackened from the blast earlier and smelled of sulfur, but the fresh breeze from the high winds was enough for him.
For one of the first times in his life, he had sought solitude, to think of the events that had occurred over the past few days.
It was sunset, that much he could see from his perch. He looked over the entire city, calmed by the scenery. The crumpled and blasted buildings were like grave markers for the fallen metropolis, but they weren’t what captivated his attention. It was the changing colors of the sky with the setting sun that he enjoyed.
But still, it didn’t do much to calm the pain in his heart. His parents were dead before he ever got a chance to tell them goodbye, much like the first time. There were few people that he truly cared for in the world, despite his cheery attitude and ability to make friends with just about anyone. He had a skill for that, bringing others to his side and seeing what each person needed. Yet, very few people had been able to get absolutely close to him.
Sephiroth was one of the first to actually see him, if that made any sense. His cheerful and carefree attitude was one of many masks, and the former General had been the one to see that. Of course, it hadn’t been easy getting past Sephiroth’s walls and masks either.
The smallish and needy Cloud had also been someone Zack had been close to, probably because he felt the boy needed looking after. In a way, the blond reminded Zack of himself before he became the happy guy that everyone knew him to be.
And then, there were his parents of course... his true ones, not the ones that were blood-related. His mother was always kind and funny with a sharp wit. His father, Lexas Loire… the one who had adopted him and not his sperm donor, had been very kind also and rather noble. Despite their lack of common blood, Zack had gladly taken Lexas’ name and accepted him as his father, hating the man that had made his mother cry, that had made his life as a child a living hell. The ex-SOLDIER would never forget the honorable man, Lexas, who had saved his mother and from he their hellish existence.
Now, they were dead, both of them. According to Vincent, they were victims of a demon’s rage because the monsters were searching for him. He wasn’t surprised to find that his parents had taken in a stranger, caring for him. It was just the type of people that they were, and the thought made him smile.
He had seen guilt in Vincent’s eyes, but he didn’t blame the gunman at all. The ex-Turk couldn’t have known what was going to happen and had done his best to prevent the complete destruction of Gongaga. Not to mention the fact that Vincent had completely lost his memory. In truth, Zack was glad that the ex-Turk had given his parents hope for even a moment, even though he knew that they had realized Vincent was not their son.
He wondered what he would do now with this second chance at life. When the world was saved, he was certain that was what was going to happen, how would he continue his life? Would the Planet return him to the Lifestream after their victory? Or could he dare think to try and live?
The former ShinRa mused on what his purpose would be after the fight. Would he be able to find love, like his friend?
He smirked at the thought.
Sephiroth did not even know it yet, but he could already see it. The truth had been there since before Nibelheim, but the former General had not been able to understand it. Sephiroth was oblivious to things like that. No, wait, maybe oblivious wasn’t the right term. It was more like the silver-haired man noticed but wasn’t sure what he was seeing. He just couldn’t fathom such things. Although with his upbringing, it was rather understandable.
“Still tempting the fates, I see,” came a smooth and deep voice, one that Zack recognized easily. He didn’t even have to turn to see who it was.
‘Well, speak of the devil,’ the ex-SOLDIER thought. A smile quirked at the corner of his lips.
“I’m not in any danger,” Zack put in out loud. “You’re the one that’s afraid of the edge,” he teased.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his best friend sit down beside him, leather clad leg swinging over the edge as he brought the foot of the other to lay on the edge. One leather clad arm leaned on it, dark silver-streaked hair shifting into view.
“I am cautious,” Sephiroth said as he turned to face the other man. “There’s a difference.”
They were at least fifteen stories up, not that it seemed to bother either one of them. Both simply sat, staring out into the distance.
Zack grinned, lightly punching the former General in the shoulder. “So you say.”
Sephiroth shrugged before again turning his gaze to the rapidly setting sun, the sky already a dark purple and orange with the fading light. His hair fell across his face, and he absentmindedly brushed it back.
“You used to find high places when you wanted to be alone and brood,” Seraph inserted slowly. “Has that changed?”
Zack raised an eyebrow. “I wanted to be alone.” He paused, as if something had just occurred to him. “Why are you here?”
“Do you want me to leave?” the other man inquired with a hint of sadness.
The spiky-haired man shifted his position, bringing up one knee so that he mimicked his companion’s stance. “Nah, it’s good, but you’re right. I came here to brood.”
“I won’t pry,” Sephiroth responded easily enough. “I will just sit here in silence.”
And so they did for a time. The pair sat quietly, just admiring the forces of nature around them. It was a companionable moment between two friends. However, it was soon broken, and Zack was the first to speak again.
“Will you tell me what happened? Five years ago?”
Sephiroth went still at the question, silent for so long that his friend began to regret asking the painful question. He opened his mouth to tell his companion that he didn’t have to say anything when the former General finally spoke.
“Can you imagine,” Sephiroth began slowly as he brought his right hand up in front of him, “what it feels like to realize your life is the result of a lab experiment?” His eyes were distant and clouded.
Slowly, he pulled off his leather glove, a thing that he rarely removed. On the back of his hand, there was a symbol, printed in dark, black ink. It was simple really, a stylized version of the number zero, but to Sephiroth, it was a source of much rage and heartache.
He paused for a moment, but Zack had nothing to say not interrupting. He had seen the tattoo before, one time and completely on accident. However, he had never questioned Sephiroth, knowing just how private the man could be.
“I’ve had this tattoo all my life,” the former General went on faintly, rubbing a thumb over the black ink before putting his glove back on. “As well as, constant visits to my father… I mean, Hojo’s lab.” Sephiroth laughed then, and it was a bitter sound. “He told me I had an illness only he could cure. I never knew that the illness was really a pseudonym for the alien Jenova, which coursed through my veins.”
Zack nodded sympathetically. “I, too, have been under the madman’s knife. It’s a none too pleasant experience.” He thought back to those four years when he had been in Hojo’s captivity along with Cloud after the Nibelheim incident. He recalled the needles and the blood, the unspeakable horrors. The thought alone made him shudder, and it was a motion that Sephiroth did not fail to notice.
“I had begun to wonder before we went to the reactor and saw all those monsters in the tubes. I knew something was different about me; something was wrong, but I didn’t know what.” He exhaled, staring at the almost disappeared sun. Sephiroth absentmindedly ran his hand over his arm, ghosting over the still lingering scars left by Hojo. They were from experiments so bloody that not even Jenova could fully heal them.
“Then, we found the name Jenova over the experiment, and my curiosity grew into obsession,” the former General carried on. “I had to know. I couldn’t keep wondering about the truth of my heritage.” He exhaled again.
“In the basement laboratory beneath the ShinRa mansion, I discovered all I needed to know, more than I ever wanted to know,” Sephiroth stated, his voice oddly neutral, as though he were relating nothing more personal than the weather. “I suspected but never anything like that. No matter what I had thought, I still wasn’t prepared to deal with it. It was just too much.” The General shook his head. “And in my moment of anger and distress… weakness, Jenova began speaking to me.”
He looked up, pained eyes meeting crystalline blue. “It was me – me alone that burned Nibelheim to the ground, murdered the residents, attacked Cloud and you… dove into the Lifestream.” Seraph hesitated. “Those were my choices. And for that, I am sorry.” The hurt and regret were evident in his eyes.
Zack shook his head. “You may say that it was you, but even I could tell that something was wrong. Who’s to say they would react in a normal matter if they ever found out that their life was anything but normal.” He stared out over at the fading lights of the sunset. “I know I’d have been furious.”
Sephiroth nodded. “Fury was only one of my many emotions. Disgust, hatred, bloodlust were all swirling about within me. Perhaps if I had gone to you rather than listening to Jenova’s seductive whispers, I might have acted differently.” He trembled faintly, fighting his way from might-have-beens. Zack laid a hand on his arm suddenly, causing his eyes to flicker to his friend.
“Yet, she spoke of vengeance and destroying that which caused my pain,” Sephiroth continued after a moment. “Nibelheim and its residents were my first target and then, the rest of ShinRa. If it hadn’t been for Cloud and you attempting to stop me, who knows what else I may have done,” he confessed. “Afterwards, when I was finally starting to realize what I had done, Jenova quickly convinced me to leap into the mako of the reactor.”
“She had deafened you to me,” Zack inserted. “That bitch...” he trailed off, gloved hand curling into a fist.
The former General merely inclined its head in understanding. “I never would have hurt you in my right mind.” It seemed he kept repeating that fact. “I never wanted to hurt anyone that I care for.” His eyes fell on that sudden confession, his thoughts going back to all he had harmed. One face in particular whipped through his mind, one who’s fate had barely been saved.
Zack grinned slightly, giving a light tap to his friend’s shoulder. “I knew it,” he teased. “You always had a thing for dark-haired men.” He wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis.
Sephiroth flushed deeply, and he was soon horrified to discover that his face flamed with embarrassment at his friend’s suggestive words. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the blushing as he sought words for the proper come back. Yet, before he could respond, the emotions on the swordsman’s face changed from teasing to grim.
“I wonder if he will be alright,” Zack questioned aloud. He was referring to the Turk Commander and the man’s strange outburst from earlier that day. Tseng had been resting since then, his fellow Turks never leaving his side.
The mossy-eyed male frowned, idly looking at his gloved hand again, the one that hid his bizarre tattoo. “I can sympathize with his plight,” he commented. “It is not something that is easily dealt with.”
The other man nodded but didn’t say anything. He simply wrapped his arm on his friend’s shoulder, giving him a one-armed but much needed embrace.
The sound of the roof top door clicking shut alerted the pair to the fact that they were no longer alone, and a cheerful voice rang out as they were approached by their visitor.
“I see you still have an affinity for the high places,” commented Aeris, moving until she stood between the two males, laying a friendly chin on Zack’s shoulder.
The dark-haired man grinned, jerking a thumb towards the former General. “That is the same thing Sephiroth said. You guys strangely think alike.”
The flower-girl laughed. “We just know you well; that is all.”
Zack rubbed the back of his head with his hand and sighed, though a smile was definitely on his face. “A man has no secrets any longer.”
Sephiroth shrugged. “It’s not as if you can keep anything quiet. You always were a blabbermouth… and predictable as well.”
“Geez. What is this, pick on Zack day? If it’s not you two, then it’s that blonde Turk always degrading my skills.”
“Poor Zack,” murmured the lone female, patting him soothingly on the back. Then, a bright smile appeared on her face. “Oh well. Come on, you guys; we’ve got to get back to the conference room. We have to finish discussing everything.”
Sephiroth frowned. “Has Tseng awoken?”
Aeris shook her head. “I’m not sure. The Turks are really close knit. They won’t let anyone but Reeve in to see him. Though, I can understand, especially given the situation.”
The spiky-haired man slung his legs around and rose to his feet stretching languidly with a loud yawn accompanying. “Well, let’s go then. More boring conversation, ahoy.”
The laughter of his friends followed him.
***
Silvery eyes fluttered open, and he found that he was facing a most familiar and rather plain, white wall across the other side of an empty bed. It was not unlike the one in the resting room of ShinRa Corporation. He blinked blearily, his entire body feeling tired. It was then that he noticed his throat was raw, and his eyes felt blood shot, as if he had been crying. He hadn’t done that in years. Not since...
The memories came flooding back in a torrent and he had to stifle a groan. He had snapped... truly snapped. He couldn’t believe he had shown that part of himself to everyone and now, they all knew his secret. That which he had been trying to hide so hard had now come to light. He wondered what they thought of him.
The slight murmur of voices behind him alerted the man to the fact he was not alone. He could distinctly hear Reno’s slow drawl and Rude’s quiet answer. The smell of gun oil let him know that Elena was there as well.
He was surprised that they had not deserted him. Why were they still here? Didn’t they think him an abomination?
He was still reluctant to roll over, beginning to feel the slight burn of shame on his face. He had acted in a manner most unbecoming to someone like him. He didn’t want to see them after what had happened; he didn’t want to see the looks on their faces.
(They are your friends,) came a voice in his mind. (They would not think ill of you.)
There it was again. It was the same voice that had tormented him not only the entire day before but also for several months. It was the one he had been pushing aside, along with others all his life, the one that had brought him many migraines, the one that just wouldn’t go away no matter how hard he tried.
He grimaced and closed his eyes, trying to push away the unwelcome guest. ‘Go away,’ he returned. ‘I don’t want this. I do not want you here.’
(Have you not learned yet? You are not your mother, my child. This is not Wutai, and I am no ordinary voice!)
Tseng furrowed his brow and concentrated wholly on his mental walls, the ones he had built through the years to block out the whispers in his mind. He slammed up the barriers, hearing them ringing with a finality in his mind, and the voice was cut off. The protests filtered down to a low trickle and then... nothing.
Peaceful, blissful... and sane silence.
The bed creaked as someone sat beside him, a hand threading gentle fingers through his hair. “You might as well turn and face us,” came the distinctly familiar voice of Elena. “We all detected your change in breathing.” She laughed lightly. “After all, you did train us.”
It hurt to say it, but he had to ask. “I am considering why you all have not yet deserted me.”
A derisive snort was his answer. He recognized the sound as only belonging to Reno. “You might be half off your rocker, but you’re still our boss, yo. After all, we ain’t all there ourselves, ya know?”
There was a slight and stifled “Ow!” that followed that statement, most likely because Rude had elbowed his itinerant former partner.
“Reno is right, idiot he may be,” the sole female added in. “We may not understand what’s going on, but we all admire you, boss. And although we work under you, we also consider you a friend. Desertion is not part of our code.”
Tseng had to fight back the choking feeling in his throat.
Friends, huh?
When was the last time he had ever allowed himself close enough to someone to consider them his true friends? He had always thought of those nearest to him as his acquaintances, but he had kept even Reeve at a safe distance. It was better that way… and far less painful. No one knew his secrets, and it was safer that way. But now, perhaps he could be allowed that luxury.
He was far from accepting the voices, and still mourned the loss of his home land, distant memory though it was. Yet, maybe, just maybe he might be able to adjust.
“What do you wish to know?” he inquired quietly.
“Nothing you don’t want to tell us,” came Rude’s response. “We trust you, sir.”
The room fell into an easy silence as Tseng considered his statement. He wondered if he was ready to just explain it all: the fear and the worry, what he had been hiding, and the truth of the matter. However, he knew in his heart that he was not. To say it aloud would make it real, to say it aloud meant he would have to confront the voices and accept them. He would have to listen and understand.
And Tseng wasn’t ready for that.
He moved to sit up, Elena’s hands removing themselves from his hair. He slid off the bed and fixed his clothing, smoothing down mussed hair and wrinkles as he kept his back to his subordinates. He heard the bed creak as the blonde female left the bed as well.
They waited for him to make a move, for him to say something. He was instantly proud to be their commander, prouder than he had ever been as a member of the old ShinRa. He was glad for the opportunity he had and that fortune had brought him such wonderful friends. For the first time in his life, and for only the briefest of moments, Tseng was glad that he had been exiled. Yet, the feeling was fleeting as he also realized what all he had lost.
He turned around then, finally feeling back to his old form, and he eyed his subordinates carefully. “Has the meeting ended then?” the Wutaiian questioned.
Rude shook his head. “They stopped it after… the incident,” he put in smoothly, barely hesitating over his word choice. “I believe it restarted about ten minutes ago.”
“Then, we had best be going,” Tseng commented, gracefully stepping around the side of the bed. “We are late already.”
“Yes, sir,” commented the other three with snapping feet and a salute. It was a comforting gesture to the Wutaiian Turk. He walked past them, heading for the door, missing the secretive smiles the trio shared.
***
“Where is Balaam, then? If, in fact, we are going to try and stop him,” Cloud questioned, the first to speak as everyone returned to the conference room. Nevertheless, the absence of the Turks was very duly noted. No one was going to speak of it, however, not even the ever tactless Barret or Cid.
Erebus shook his head. All of the anima’s were in attendance as well.
“No one knows. He’s gone into hiding, presumably to regain his lost powers and body while he works out his plans,” Vincent’s anima stated slowly.
“Can’t you just... I dunno, track him or something?” Cid asked, waving his hands. “Can’t you all sense each other or some *%$#&!@ shit like that?”
“It’s not like we were born with radar or something, yo.” Asclepius giggled. Though her animus was not present, she was. The green-haired teenager sat in Reno’s seat, occasionally twirling about in the chair, while Erebus gave her amused and secretly besotted looks.
Gilgamesh sighed and tossed his head. “We have no choice but to search for him. Literally, he could be hiding anywhere. His attacks have been varied and worldwide. It will be difficult to even pinpoint a direction from which they originated.”
“Besides,” added in Erebus. “Father is hiding his aura from us. Not even I can tell where he is. Remember who he is, the demi-god of Chaos. It is not a difficult task to confuse our senses.”
Zack mused thoughtfully, but it was Sephiroth who questioned, for the first time drawing attention to himself. “When and where was the last time he attacked?” War tactics such as what they were discussing were his forte, being a former General and all. It was in such a discussion that he felt most comfortable.
“If the Bandragora attacking Wutai were by his orders, then that would have been the day before yesterday,” Reeve responded with a frown to his face.
“He has only attacked major cities so far,” added in Cid. “Cosmo Canyon, Neo-Midgar, Junon…” He ticked the locations off on his fingers. “It’s as if he was trying to stop us before the war even began.”
Erebus shook his head. “Not necessarily. He wants you to suffer; he wants all of us to suffer.” He frowned as he thought on the rantings of his father, and his requests for his son to join him. “To fight him, you have to understand why he even started this war to begin with.”
Yet, before anyone could even question, the door to the conference room clicked open, and the Turks began to file in one by one. Reno was the first to appear, quickly taking his place beside his lover and kicking Asclepius out of his seat. Behind him came Tseng, who was trying his best to look as sure of himself as he could. Nonetheless, he felt the weight of every gaze on him, and it made him uneasy.
He waited for the questions; he steeled himself for the prying wonderment. He had many answers already planned, though he wasn’t sure if he could speak them. His tongue felt heavy, and his heart fluttered in his chest. To speak the truth after so long, it felt as if he was betraying a part of himself to do so. He didn’t know if he could do it, if he was strong enough.
However, the questions never came. No one spoke a word as he took a seat between Reeve and Elena, the blonde patting his leg underneath the table. He could still feel the weight of every stare upon him, and somehow, the lack of questions only made it worse. It was almost as if they pitied him or feared for his sanity. He began to wonder which he would rather suffer: the questions or the pity.
Rude was the last to enter, taking the last available chair between Cid and Yuffie.
“Well,” scoffed the pilot. “Now that the Turks are here, we can finally get to the real discussion.” He wasn’t being tactless, just reacting as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. He waved a hand at Vincent’s anima, gesturing for him to continue.
“Right.” Erebus nodded. “As I was saying, if you want to fight against Balaam, you have to realize the measures he will take… and just how badly he wants to win. You have to be prepared for anything because, I assure you, he believes that his reason for fighting is just as valid as your own.”
They weren’t going to say anything at all to him. Tseng realized this with a vague sort of detachment. His eyes slid to Yuffie, wondering if his cousin had revealed it all or if she had left them in the dark as well. With Erebus speaking again, most of the gazes had reverted to the demi-god, and no one was looking at him any longer, as though they were afraid to rock the boat. He frowned slightly, again questioning himself.
“What?” snorted Barret. “!%$#%*& wants power, right? Or destruction or money or some fool ass $@!% like that, huh?”
Gilgamesh shook his head. “Nothing quite so vulgar or inane as such. He seeks something less trivial, something I have no doubt mortals have longed for as well, something they have fought and died for on many an occasion.”
“What could that be?” Aeris asked breathlessly. “Surely as a demi-god he could have anything he ever wanted.”
Vincent shook his head, speaking without being asked first for one of the few times since he had known AVALANCHE. “Freedom,” he responded quietly. “For although they are given the greatest power in the world, they are bound by the chains of duty and promise.”
To this, Erebus inclined his head. “You are correct. We demi-gods are given great powers, in varied areas, with tasks to watch over mortal-kind and delegate the wonders and elements of Gaia. But as with all power, it comes with a price. We have rules we must obey, restrictions that we must follow. Balaam envied the mortals for their choice since truly we have none.”
“You speak blasphemy!” Ishvara uttered, shaking her head so that her blue hair floated behind her in a wave. There was a tone of chastisement in her voice. “To claim that these mortals have more than us, that we ENVY them!”
Gilgamesh rolled his eyes. “We are only speaking of the desires of Balaam’s heart, not of all those present. But yes, in a way, I do think that we lack certain things. The freedom to chose as we see fit one of them.” His gaze drifted to all those gathered.” After all, I was borne from the chaos and given great power... but I can’t use it in any way I chose.”
“Then you would follow the path of your son?” Raijin questioned, wonderment in his tone.
“We are not having this discussion here!” uttered Seiryu in a voice tight with restraint. At this point, most of the mortals had begun to look upon their anima with great curiosity on their faces. “I will not have a repeat of the Conclave!” His voice was chastising but a tone that everyone thought to obey, much different than that of Ishvara’s. The demi-gods and goddesses fell into silence.
There was a brief pause around the table as the mortals searched for something to say, surprised by the obviously unintentional outburst of the demi-deities.
“Very well then,” Reeve began clearing his throat. Obviously, tensions were high and stress becoming a large factor, even causing normally stoic men to break out into fits of insanity. He forced himself not to look at Tseng at that thought.
“We obviously cannot stop Balaam until we know where to look.” The executive turned towards the demi-gods. “How long until his power returns to him?”
“Since I have grown conscious of the events, his power has been slowed to a trickle,” Vincent commented.
“I would say we have another month at the most,” Seiryu answered with a slight frown. “Perhaps two weeks at the least, but we really cannot tell. It is not as if this sort of thing has happened before.”
“Two weeks,” Tseng murmured in amazement, shaking his head. It was the first he had spoken since returning to the conference room. “That does not give us any time to find him at all.” All eyes shifted towards him, some with surprise registering on their features.
“What?” the Turk Commander queried testily, feeling impatience settling over him.
They sought to baby him, sought to shower him with pity just because of one outburst. He was a Turk… and Commander at that! This loss of respect, this pity, was more than he could handle. It hurt almost more than the questions would; it pained him with an intensity that surprised him, and he almost didn’t realize it before he rose to his feet.
“You do not need to tiptoe around me,” he commented, voice firm and not wavering in the slightest. “I am a Turk, one outburst will not change that. Ask your questions! I neither want nor desire your pity!” Those gathered shifted uncomfortably under his penetrating and intent gaze.
“Very well then,” responded Cloud quietly. “If that’s the way you want it.” He paused, shooting Reeve a look before continuing. “Who is your other?”
The calmly asked question was not what Tseng had been prepared to answer. He sat slowly back into his seat, expecting a query about what had happened or if he was going to be alright, not something basically wondering whether or not he had decided to heed the voices.
“I do not know,” the Turk replied slowly.
“But you are hearing his voice, yes?” Hephaestion questioned softly, the soothing tones enough to calm the Wutaiian’s racing heart.
Tseng shook his head. “Not anymore,” came his quiet answer. “I have blocked him out.”
“Boss,” replied Elena. “You should--“
He cut her off with a lifting of his hand before she could continue in her line of thought. “I am not ready to deal with these voices,” he answered her. “It is hard to fight against years of pretending and repression. I cannot easily accept them. I am sorry, but... that is how it must be.”
“Do not apologize,” came Tiamat’s reply. Silvery gaze met hers, and the look on the demi-goddess’ face was soothing to Tseng. “We regret not understanding. Ort-... your other should have known better,” she paused, brow furrowing in concentration. “In fact, I am surprised that at his age and wisdom, he did not.”
Asclepius became indignant. “Hey! Father knew exactly what he was doing. You just wait and see.”
A stern glare from Seiryu, and the little demi-goddess went silent, idly inching closer to Erebus. “Regardless, that is not up for discussion now. We must find Balaam; we haven’t time to waste,” spoke the big dragon.
Cloud nodded, rising to his feet. “Gaia is only so big,” he intoned. There aren’t that many places a demi-god and his army of denizens could be hiding. We will find him and destroy him before he can do any more harm.”
For the briefest of moments, the blond wondered how it came so easily to him, the ability to lead and make decisions. He wondered why they were always so willing to put their lives in his hands and why they even listened to him. The man who had forgotten his past, borrowed some one else’s, and once lusted after the greatest enemy they had ever faced… a man that was currently sitting at the table with them as well. Cloud hoped intently that he would always be worthy of that trust... and that he would never fail them, not like he had failed so long ago.
His eyes roamed over those before him, wondering which tasks he should assign to whom. Reeve would be needed to stay in Midgar and coordinate everything. Yuffie would probably want to return to Wutai and scope things out just as Nanaki would want to check on Cosmo Canyon. He still didn’t entirely trust Sephiroth and wanted the man close. Someone was still needed for defensive measures in Midgar, and someone needed to start a global search. He sighed before delegating tasks.
“Cid, transportation duty as usual.” He ignored the pilot’s muttered and annoyed curses. “Reeve, coordination duties. Yuffie, you are to go to Wutai, and, Nanaki, to Cosmo Canyon. Sephiroth, you and Zack are to remain here… where either me or Tseng can keep an eye on you.”
Wouldn’t that be fun? He ignored Zack’s entertained chuckle.
“Rude, you wouldn’t want to stray too far from Shera, so stay here in Midgar and help fight down the remnants of monsters.” The ex-SOLDIER paused, as if considering those remaining.
“I found a chip on one of the monsters,” offered up Elena helpfully. “I’ll get to inspecting that, I suppose.”
“I will search with Cid aboard the Highwind,” Vincent added quietly. “Perhaps I can sense Balaam where others cannot.” He frowned. “I still feel an odd connection to him.”
Cloud nodded. All that remained were Reno and Archer... and of course, Barret. Yet, the blond swordsman was still loathe to include the gun-armed man. He had wanted Barret to stay out of things to begin with, but the dark-skinned man was stubborn.
“Reno, Archer, surely one of you can drive a submarine?” the blond swordsman questioned, satisfied when both men nodded. “Perhaps you can search the underwater pathways. Barret, you can stay in Midgar as well.”
“It sounds like you have this all figured out,” Reeve commented.
Cloud nodded and prepared to respond, but Elena beat him to the punch, her statement coming completely out of nowhere.
“Well, this is all great and good,” she replied with a slight smile before turning a devious eye on her red-haired fellow Turk and his lover. “But when is the wedding in the middle of all this?”
Reeve fidgeted under her stare as all eyes turned towards them. Reno, however, beamed brightly. “See, here’s the thing,” the President started out slowly, blanching under Elena’s intent gaze.
“We’re already married!” announced Reno loudly. “We eloped in Wutai!”
“What?” Aeris and Elena said together, their vision of a nice, big wedding dying a horrible death. The flower-girl sniffled, her hormones getting the best of her.
The blond Turk’s jaw dropped in surprise. “But... all that planning!” she protested. “Everything Aeris and I worked so hard to accomplish!” Her brow furrowed... anger beginning to take over her shock. “How could you do this?” she demanded, as if it had been her own wedding to begin with.
Mrs. Strife chimed in, “After everything we’ve been through together, Reeve Tuesti!” The pregnant woman narrowed her gaze on the two men. “How could you?” she asked pleadingly.
“And you, Ichigo Reno!” Elena continued for her friend. “I’m sure this is all your doing!” She began to go off on a tangent then, Aeris joining her seconds later, spouting words the moment they reached her mind. Some were not even strung together in a coherent fashion.
“Now, Elena,” Tseng chastised slowly, but even he was quieted by her furious glare.
Reno opened his mouth to speak and then shut it, convinced that his voice would only increase the female’s ire. Beside him, Zack was struggling to contain his laughter as Sephiroth shook his head, a smile quirking at the corner of his mouth. Yuffie refused to hold it in, giggling her little head off as the two men shrunk under the combined might of Elena and Aeris. Cloud merely stared at the tabletop, trying to pretend that he wasn’t there and it wasn’t his wife going on an insane tirade.
It was a good five minutes later, after Zack had turned red from holding in his chuckles and finally exploded in gales of laughter and even Cloud had started to snicker, that the pair finally ran out of steam. The two woman dissolved into an exhale and final soft string of words. Everyone at the table was exchanging looks of bewilderment.
“Well,” the flower-girl demanded with a sniffle. “What have you to say for yourselves?”
Reno and Reeve exchanged equal looks of fear. “We were still hoping to have the ceremony,” said Reeve solemnly. “Unless of course, it would mean nothing to you now--”
Instantly, the blonde and brunette’s faces brightened. All of their ire was thrown out the window.
“Well, in that case,” Elena said. “I was thinking a blend of aquamarine and amber for your colors, what do you think?” she hastily asked her female cohort. Her chance in countenance was astounding.
All at once, everyone around the table burst out laughing, even Tseng and Sephiroth managing to join in with a slight chuckle. That alone eased the tension that had built within the room.
For the briefest of moments, everyone forgot about the lengthy tasks ahead of them.
***