|A Protector Has No Regrets
Author: xpoetxofxthexmoon PM
His blade only brought death, he seemed to do the same, but during a meeting with a young Turk, his mind just may change. very hinted Sephiroth x CissneiRated: Fiction K+ - English - Friendship/Angst - Shuriken/Cissnei & Sephiroth - Words: 1,909 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 6 - Follows: 1 - Published: 01-10-11 - Status: Complete - id: 6642165
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I do not claim to own anything in this fan fiction. They belong to their respected owners. If you think I do own this, then I will have Kunsel stab you in the ass. :]
Warning: Slightly AU. There is much angst in this piece, and characters might seem a bit out of character. Can be seen as being based off of Halo and Wings
Summary: His blade only brought death, he seemed to do the same, but during a meeting with a young Turk, his mind just may change.
A Protector Has No Regrets.
Seeing the great silver general in the virtual training room was not a rare sight, but a sighting by himself was one that entered history books. There was always someone in there with the tall man; his two friends, Genesis and Angeal, were the normal occupants. However, there were a few times when others had been seen with him within, those were merely the ones Shin-Ra wanted trained by the best. All in all, the General was never alone when training or even in the dreaded room, but today seemed to be unique, much different then other days.
There was no scene around the seeming fearless warrior as he stood in the center of the metal room, his left hand holding the mighty Masamune. Those predatory green eyes stared down at the blade he held, his gaze trailing along the shining edge as his lips formed a firm and thin line upon his face. Inhaling a ragged breath, he lifted his left arm — and the sword — and swung the weapon with ease. There was a ping of something within his heart, his mind flashing back to one of the many battles that he had taken place in during this frightening war.
He cringed and continued to focus on the blade, noting that there was no wear and tear on the sharp edges. A grunt escaped the twenty-something year old as he reminded himself that there was no display of combat for one reason, the enemy would never get a single chance to return attacks. This sword was created for swift kills, just like he was, the perfect SOLDIER and his equally flawless weapon. There was another chime of something within his heart as he realized something, that neither — him or his blade — could be more then executioners.
With his back towards the door, he could only hear the sliding of it to let him know he wasn't alone. He didn't move, didn't speak, only waited for the newcomer to decide if they dare stay or they run away. He could not perceive the sound of footsteps, but he could sense a specter coming closer to his stiffened form. He could feel the presence was smaller then he but could not identify much else from it. His mind flashed once more to the battles from before his return home, and soon found there was only one thing for him to do.
He gripped the hilt of his blade firmly before shifting it, turning his body gracefully and swiftly. His predatory green orbs meet an unnerved gazed that was more familiar then the SOLDIER was comfortable, yet he did not remove the sword's tip from the throat of the trespasser. His lips twist downward into a frown, although, he did not break the locked eye contact. "Shuriken."
"General," the young girl spoke in a voice much grown-up then she really was. "It's been awhile."
"Hmph." The silver warrior's eyes narrowed at the juvenile, "How did you know I was here?"
"I'm a TURK, I know all." Her answer was vague but both knew it had nothing to do with that, they both knew she recognized more traits within the silver then probably many others. She knew that he would be here, when he returned from the front line and had expected what he would be doing. "Don't be tense; it is just me, General."
The man's hand twitched before he pulled back the blade slightly, sending the girl a glance that only she knew the meaning behind. He watched as her lips curved with very faint delight, finding the ping in his chest disappearing at the sight of her jolting to the side, in her right hand was the weapon she had been trained to use. A flicker in Sephiroth's eyes emerged, his wrist snapping to attention and the blade soon followed, gazing watching the young TURK's every movement.
It only took a few minutes into their battle for the TURK to know that there was something wrong. She had memorized the way their blades clashed, realizing that the rhythm was off slightly, meaning that there had to be something on the SOLDIER's mind. She hopped up as her weapon began returning to her, grabbing it and jolting toward the male. She raised her weapon and swung it in his direction, heading for one of his blind spots. "What is on your mind, General?"
"It is none of your concern." The words were as cold yet frightening as his movements, sparks flying as the two weapons connected. He heard her gasp for a breath of air as her large shuriken rattled at the impact, which both were surprised it could take. He flicked his wrist, sending her petite form sliding back a few feet, and observed her body quiver slightly. He felt that ping return to his heart at the sight, the same chime that entered when he slaughtered. "However, if you must know then — I can tell you, under one condition."
She questioned in a shaken tone, "The normal?"
"No," he declined as he lowered the tip of his blade, allowing it to rest upon the metal floor. Those cold predatory softened with less then a cheerful atmosphere, the man then loosened his grip on the grand Masamune. "You must tell me something, you must inform me on how you do it."
"Do what?" The General flinched outwardly, much to his own dismay, at the lightness of the young Turk's words. She took notice to his reaction and lowered her Shuriken, her gaze lingering on the man that had always appeared to be so strong, yet now looked like nothing more then a fragile child. "General—"
"How do you do it? How do you continue to live after everything you do, without a single regret?" He watched as she tilted her head with confusion in those child-like eyes, he felt himself almost angered by it. He flicked his wrist and held the tip of his blade to her throat, scowling down at the younger being while ignoring what his mind was screaming, ignoring everything but the realization that flickered in her eyes. "Tell me how you do it. Do not take me as blind, Shuriken. I know that the TURKS are known for more gruesome murders then SOLDIER could ever produce."
The girl should have seen this, should have realized this was what swam around the within the General's head the moment she walked in. He had just returned from Wutai, all the killings that he had done there, they were probably haunting him. She should have known he would react badly to his actions, he might have been one of the best weapons that Shin-Ra had but he had not killed often and was not taught how to come to terms with his actions, not like how the TURKS were trained. She bit her lip in thought, pondering what she could possibly say to this grown man who was probably mourning every kill he had ever made. "Do you really want to know, General?"
He growled, "Don't test me, Shuriken. I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to know."
"I don't think you're really concerned on how I deal with it. You see you're sword as something that takes life, which makes you think that since your are the wielder, that there is something wrong with you, but that is not the case." She paused as the weapon at her throat was lowered, she took notice to the way that Sephiroth stared at her with curious expression. She wetted her lips and lifted her shuriken, allowing the metal to shine off of the lights that lined the ceiling. "I used to think like that, but it did not take me long to see the truth behind my abilities and my orders. These are not weapons of destruction only, General Sephiroth, there is more to it."
"I use my shuriken to protect those that are closed to me and the people that depend on me, just as you use that lengthy blade. If we did not then people would die, good people that are just stuck in the cross fires," she explained slowly to the older being, watching as he seemed to hang on every word as if it were God speaking to him. "The blood that stains my weapon is not that of the innocent, but of those who dare attempt harm to the ones I am bond to protect. The same goes for you; remember that the next time you rise your blade, without you, there would be no safety for the child that are playing in the slums and such places. You bring protection to those who cannot protect themselves, General."
Sephiroth infiltrated those words that the much younger being spoke, staring at her in utter silence as he pondered over her statement. A part of he wanted, no, needed to believe hers words but the other part spoke that she told lies, only to make him feel better. Still his eyes drifted to his blade in thought, he slowly came to terms with what she was saying, believing and hanging on every word of it. His lips twitches as he resisted the urge to smile, his wrist flicking and sheathing his blade as he straightened his form once more. His feet moved on their own and stopped right next to the young woman, who had stiffened at the sight of him advancing towards her. "Shuriken…"
"You're wiser then Verdot gives you credit for," he spoke as he lifted a hand, placing it upon her small head. He ruffled her wavy auburn hair before advancing towards the exit, not even bothering to look back at her. "You're going to make one interesting TURK."
"Cissnei," she spoke up childishly as she turned to him, noticing that he had paused in the doorway. "My friends call me Cissnei, you should too, General."
"Hn," he smirked with his back to her. He said no more as he took his leave, allowing the doors to close behind him and leaving the young woman in the room alone. He paused just outside of the door, his predatory green eyes lifted to the ceiling as he inhaled sharply. "Cissnei… of the TURKS." His voice was low and barely audible as he continued to walk, making his way down the long hall—ready to face the world and the power of his blade, wanting nothing more then to protect the innocent appearing TURK that still stood inside the training room.
Author's Note: comments, concerns, etc? Also, it should be noted that this is completely dedicated to Nietzsches_Itch for being such an epic fan/friend of mine. (: