Work Text:
From:
[email protected]
Subject: Exam Results
Cadet Cloud Strife,
Thank you for participating in today’s SOLDIER recruitment assessment. Unfortunately, as per your displayed intolerance to even low doses of mako administrations, we find it in everyone’s best interest that you are not elevated to the SOLDIER program at this time. You may apply again next season.
We appreciate your cooperation.
Biting his cheek, the bedsprings creaked and groaned as Cloud sank onto the foot of his mattress, extinguished eyes lingering on the simple words that had managed to snuff out any remaining hope he’d been somehow keeping alight since his absolutely flawless assessment that morning:
...you are not elevated to the SOLDIER program at this time.
He knew it wasn’t a shock, but that did nothing to soften the scythelike cut he felt with every rejection, the way he desperately charged up his expectations to the point of possible delusion. When would he learn to just face the facts? Did he genuinely think he would be promoted after nearly fainting from the tiniest prick of Mako? Did he really think they would just gloss over his glaring weakness? Did he really think someone like that would make it into a program as rigorously elite as SOLDIER?
And it was almost time to write home again…
Outwardly, he tried his best to not appear too deflated, did everything he could to bite back the gusty sigh that was clawing and tearing at his lips. The last thing he needed was to radiate the air of a complete loser, right? He was already lucky enough to have a bed at the farthest end of the barrack, tucked under deep shadows and dust.
…not that such darkness stopped him from looking paler than he did after that decisive dose of mako hit his system.
Glowering in recollection, Cloud pulled up his scarf, buried half his face in the soothing green fabric.
And why did it always have to smell like cheap alcohol and socks in—
“DUDE, DUDE!” One of the burlier cadets in the squad shot up from his bed, whipping towards an equally buff member and shoving his PHS in the other’s face. “I GOT IN! I’M A SOLDIER THIRD…!”
“HELL YEAH, DUDE! ME TOO!”
“YES! LOVE TO HEAR IT! UP TOP!”
As the two celebrated their mutual victory with a series of high-fives and howls, Cloud could only pull his scarf even higher, burrowing his nose into the warm cloth as if blocking the smell would somehow block all the other ugly thoughts jetting through his mind at supersonic speeds.
Failure…
You’re a failure…
You just had to get sick…
What are you going to tell Ma?
What are you going to tell—
“Waaaarrrk!~”
Thankfully, the perfect distraction came in the form of an electronic Chocobo caw, and it was only after a nanosecond of bewilderment that Cloud glanced down at his ringing PHS—the screen aglow with a familiar name and icon.
He answered it in relief.
“Hey, Spike!” His friend’s cheerful voice greeted him before Cloud could even say hello. “How’s it hanging, pal? Everything good?”
It took a beat for Cloud to decide which question he’d rather tackle. “…Everything’s alright.” He tried to sound as genuine as he could, just barely fighting back a thick and guilty swallow.
Which was more than enough to help the psychic Zack put the pieces together. “Hey...” he started now, his own tone sobering into gentle concern, “you good?”
…well, there was no hiding it now, was there? Cloud allowed himself a generous swallow now, gulping down acid. “Kinda,” he confessed in a near-mutter. “Today was the SOLDIER recruitment exam, that’s all.”
It didn’t take a mathematician to puzzle out that Cloud’s tone and said information didn’t equal something positive.
“…Aww, Spike. I’m sorry.“
Cloud gave a defeated shrug, rolling the rejection letter around in his mind. “…guess there’s always next season.”
It was clear that Zack’s smile had turned wan, heavy. “That’s the spirit…! You’ll crush ‘em next time, pal. And you know what I always say about SOLDIER.”
Cloud huffed, almost laughing. “That it’s a den of monsters?”
“Ding, ding, ding!”
Cloud resigned to a faint chuckle now, unable to help it. “Yeah, but…” His voice grew far more earnest than it was before, countering, “…it can’t be all that bad with people like you in it.”
He felt Zack’s grin soften through the phone. “Hey… thanks, Spike. ‘preciate it.”
His heart just a smidgen lighter, Cloud felt comfortable enough to ask, continuing his current train of thought: “…Zack?”
“Yeah?”
“…how did you do it? Y’know, make SOLDIER?”
There was some silence, brief yet thoughtful. “…Kinda just winged it, honestly,” Zack eventually confessed. “Did whatever I could to stand out: victory poses, hollering, driving the other cadets nuts. I still think they promoted me just to get me out of their hair.”
Cloud had to chuckle louder at that, picturing Zack’s rambunctious antics as a cadet with laughable clarity. “…Yeah, I can imagine.” His eyes saddened a bit, however, as the inevitable realization hit him: “But I don’t think I can be like that, Zack.”
I can’t be like you.
I just can’t.
Let alone be like…
Some more silence stretched, the seconds crawling by like seasons.
“…You’re doing great, Spike,” Zack eventually broke it. “I promise.”
Smiling at his friend’s encouragement, Cloud returned a mellow, “Thanks, Zack”—and prayed it wasn’t too obvious that it didn’t hit as hard as it should, that hearing such kind words from his closest friend was almost like hearing it from Ma—as selfish and stupid as it all sounded…
Not that he didn’t appreciate it like the world.
Another beat, then Zack opted to switch gears, his smile rejuvenating through the speakers. “…Well, pal, you know what always cheers me up after a rough day?”
Cloud again huffed, almost smirking. “…Food?”
“Ding, ding, ding! We got another winner!”
Hearing this, Cloud rewarded Zack with another chuckle, immediately deciphering his friend’s offer. “It’s okay, Zack…”
“No, no! I insist! Whatcha want?”
Knowing there was no arguing with Zack—especially with that tone—Cloud opted to simply relent, deciding with another sheepish chuckle, “Well… maybe something warm? Like soup?” —then, a little quieter— “…I’m still feeling kinda woozy from the mako…”
He could imagine Zack giving his shoulder a tight squeeze. “You got it, pal. Just bought some really good tomato soup the other day; want to give it a try?”
Cloud perked up a bit at the thought. “Sure.”
“Alright! I’ll throw it on the stove right now! Just give me ten or so minutes, okay? Just gotta make a quick call.”
“Take your time.”
By the time they exchanged their goodbyes and hung up, a warm ember had finally begun to reignite in Cloud’s eyes, sparking deep in his chest.
Fueling him with a light far more organic than mako could ever be.
It was always incredibly nice, visiting Zack’s quarters. A nice change of pace from the asphyxiating air of the barracks.
Not to mention how homey it was.
Photographs, plush furniture, souvenirs—the whole apartment was adorned with cozy and modest decor, almost as if Zack himself had reincarnated his soothing personality into a tangible living space. And whereas Cloud would’ve admittedly felt envious of someone having such an elevated living space, he just couldn’t feel that way around Zack. He never could. Nor did he ever want to.
“How’s the soup, pal?”
Glancing up from his bowl, Cloud blinked back to attention, smiling as he grounded himself back in his comfy reality. “It’s good,” he honestly assessed. “Real good.”
Sitting across the table from him, Zack folded his arms behind his neck, chirping in pride, “I’m so glad! It’s my specialty, you know.”
Cloud brought another spoonful of broth to his mouth. “…What? Canned soup?”
“Biiingo!”
His smile broadening, Cloud was just about to quip something in turn when, catching him off guard—
Knock, knock, knock.
—there were a few good raps at the door, strong yet noticeably polite.
Cloud blinked in confusion. “Who’s that?”
Zack had countless friends who lived in the ShinRa Tower, of course. So it wasn’t all too surprising that one would want to stop by—even if Cloud privately wished they’d go away, in all honesty. Did they just need something? Were they going to stay? Was this a good time to slide under the table?
He hardly even noticed how incredibly bright Zack’s smile had become, the way he turned toward the door decided to answer his question without answering it at all.
“Come in, bud!” He called through the apartment. “We’re in the kitchen!”
Hearing the door click open, Cloud shifted in his seat, mustering every ounce of his strength to stop the quivering in his heart. Guess hiding under the table was out, huh? He would just have to act cool, collected, natural. Yeah. He could do that. Of course he could. And this was one of Zack’s friends; they wouldn’t judge him, right? Yeah, of course. Totally. Zack would never befriend someone with a mean soul. And if they were on a “calling each other bud” basis, then how bad could this person be?
Satisfied with his mental gymnastics, Cloud released his bridled breath, taking a generous spoonful of soup in hopes of soothing his frantic nerves.
Leather-clad footfalls approached the
kitchen.
“Ayyy, Seph! What a surprise!”
And Cloud nearly choked on his soup.
Seph? SEPH? As in…?!
He nearly dropped his spoon, downing the hot liquid in a single blazing gulp.
The man—yes, General Sephiroth, in his pauldrons and coat and all—was standing in the kitchen doorway, his head canted slightly as that iconic mercury hair spilled down his shoulders in thick, flowing rivers.
Cloud nearly turned to vapor.
“Seph, bud”—Zack gestured towards the tomato-soup-colored Cloud—”this is my pal, Cloud! Cloud Strife! The really awesome guy I always tell ya about.”
Always tell you about…?! Cloud echoed to himself, somewhere through the incredulous mist in his mind. ALWAYS…?!
Meanwhile, the other slice of his consciousness was aware that General Sephiroth was looking at him, those sharp green eyes lingering on his absolutely befuddled self.
The cadet floundered a salute, nearly knocking over his soup.
“Uhh, erm… afternoon, Sir!”
Maybe he was delirious—probably, yeah—but the bladelike gleam in Sephiroth’s eyes seemed to soften into something… amused? Toasty?
“At ease, Strife.”…
…ah! Right! This wasn’t training, was it, now?
Cloud floundered to relax, almost knocking his spoon over in the effort. “Y-yes, Sir.”
“You want to sit down, pal?” Zack smiled, taking at least a smidgen of the spotlight away from poor Cloud.
“Gladly,” Sephiroth hummed in agreement.
…or it would have taken it away, anyway, had Zack not pulled out the seat just beside Cloud’s own, allowing the planet’s strongest SOLDIER to poetically dwarf the infantryman like a leather-clad storm cloud.
Maybe he really was delirious.
“Want some soup?” Zack offered, casual and friendly as ever. “There’s plenty more to go around.”
“I’m alright, thank you.”
“Ya sure? It’s my specialty.”
“Ah, yes. Your famous canned soup.”
“Hey! It’s made with love!”
“That I’m certain of, yes.” Sephiroth’s lips had quirked into an undeniable smirk now. “But I already ate lunch.”
“You did? Without me egging you on?”
“I did.”
“Aww, Seph!” Zack’s voice glittered with pride, softened with relief. “That’s great news! Told ya your body would adjust…!”
From the sidelines, Cloud watched their heartfelt exchange unfold like a familiar game of tennis, a layer of that starstruck haze dissipating in the face of such warmth and casualness. He hadn’t even realized how much his storming heart had quelled, so absorbed in the conversation that the so-called delirium started to feel much more like a pleasant dream.
He was only snapped back to reality when Sephiroth officially addressed him, those soft green eyes falling on his small frame again.
“Now… I’ve heard a lot about you, Strife.”
THAT was still insane, though. Too insane.
He swallowed the unnecessary bafflement like a giant boulder.
“Yeah…?” Cloud said instead, not that it masked much of the inextinguishable wonder.
And Sephiroth seemed to notice. “All good things, I assure you,” the General added with that same gentle smirk. “Zack is very vocal about his friends, you know. There isn’t a day that passes without him telling me some anecdote about his antics with them. And you have certainly managed to come up the most.”
…Really? Really?! So Zack wasn’t kidding when he said “Always,” huh? He really wasn’t?!
Cloud swallowed again, his throat desertlike.
“B-but...” he felt himself stammering, unable to help the pounding thought in his mind, “aren’t all of Zack’s friends, like…SOLDIERs? Thirds and Seconds and Firsts?”
“This is true.”
“Pretty much, yeah,” Zack laughed in agreement. “The cadets hated me.”
Another swallow, thicker than ever. “S-So…” Cloud’s voice had shrunk to a microscopic size now, tight with confusion and stifled awe. “…How can I possibly come up the most—?”
“For your character, of course.” Sephiroth didn’t miss a beat, wasting no time clarifying the obvious disbelief that had a stranglehold on the cadet. “And for your sheer resilience. From what I’ve learned, you haven’t wasted a single day of your time here trying to achieve your goals. Most infantrymen—young SOLDIERs included—dedicate so much of their time taking advantage of the lounge areas, mess halls, etc…” Sephiroth tilted his head, studying the eye-widening, cheek-paling personnel at an angle that almost looked fond. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve heard about a cadet as dedicated as you, you know. And it’s those kinds of strong-willed individuals that keep the morality of this company standing.”
The words were like thunder, like lightning—setting Cloud’s insides ablaze with a force so fierce and unpredictable that it left him nearly paralyzed in his seat.
He was certain he could’ve been bowled over by a feather.
“…Y-yeah?” was all he managed to say, praying that it was enough.
Sephiroth’s nod was as gentle as ever. “Indeed.”
“See?” Zack gave the First a loving bump on the shoulder. “Seph here knows what’s up! Way more than your dullard commanders do.”
That earned Sephiroth the faintest chuckle of agreement. “Ah, speaking of which… I even found an opportunity to look over your exam records.”
And the color bled back into Cloud’s cheeks. “Oh, yeah.”
Oh, no…
But Sephiroth’s gaze only softened, shimmered. “And I want you to know that you excel in every division.”
Every division…? Cloud gave a round of rapid blinks, clearly taken aback. “R-really? But that’s not…”
Sephiroth’s smirk returned like a gentle tide. “As Zack previously said, I am no liar.”
“O-oh! I know, Sir! It’s just…” Cloud rubbed his neck, the color blazing on his cheeks in sheepish blooms of fire. “…m-my mako tolerance, that’s all. Did you see that part?” An obvious question, dummy, if he saw the—
“Yes,” Sephiroth confirmed. “I did.”
Hearing this, Cloud rubbed his neck harder, kneading a patch of invisible knots. “Oh…”
But once again, Sephiroth waited not a second longer before assuaging Cloud’s discomfort: “I understand your concern, Cadet.” The man’s voice remained calm, blameless, unwavering. “I was quite irritated when I saw that data, too.”
That got Cloud to stop in his ministrations, his hand falling like a severed puppet’s at his side.
“Y-you were?” The cadet’s blinks were cavernous, trying to digest this new swath of information.
Sephiroth nodded in confirmation. “A very insignificant detail, if you ask me. Some personnel merely pour far too much attention into the enhancements that mako offers versus the capability of the individual themself. That said”—The man’s gaze both sobered and softened, delivering the following reality with the dullest blade he could, wanting to remain anchored to logistics—“I also understand the hesitance of placing someone who has trouble processing mako in such high exposures of it. I unfortunately do not have control over the processes in which ShinRa strengthens their military, and if the threshold to becoming a SOLDIER requires tolerance to mako, then that is an unfortunate shortcoming…” He paused for a moment, pensive, before adding in good humor, “albeit I would absolutely change the wording of the rejection letters.”
…Another joke? Another witty remark? And in his own defense?!
Attempting to absorb this—all of this, really—Cloud’s face had turned into a canvas of different emotions and colors, struggling to settle on a visage that reflected his fluctuating feelings best. “Yeah…” he ultimately decided as a response, tackling the easiest thing he could. “They are a bit harsh, huh?”
“Very much so,” Sephiroth agreed, his smirk only broadening. “Perhaps I shall have a word with some of the commanders about changing their language.”
Never before did Cloud think something the General said could make him chuckle, laugh. Lighting a friendly warmth in his heart that very few people in his life had ever managed to kindle.
It was magical.
“…Nonetheless,” Sephiroth continued after a beat, his voice adopting something warm and genuine, “it’s important for you to know that your tolerance to mako is not within your control, Cadet. Nor is it by any means a reflection of your skill, dedication, or character.”
The lightning this time hit like a flash of velvet flames. “…Yeah?” Cloud was all but smiling now, a faint but undeniable crest on his lips. “You think so, Sir? Really?”
“Heh…” Sephiroth all but mirrored his gentle countenance, wisps of amusement still dancing in the emerald eyes. “I do, Cadet. One does not control their allergy to, say, a peanut butter sandwich, do they now?”
“Can confirm!” Zack chimed in, shooting up his hand as if in school. “Nobody asks for that curse.”
“Mnnhmm.”
“…Wait.” Cloud blinked now, putting the pieces together as his gaze floated towards Zack, realizing, “You’re allergic to peanut butter?”
Hearing this, Zack elbowed his older friend with a mocking scoff. “Gee! Thanks, bud! Way to blow my secret.”
“What are you talking about? You confirmed it.”
“Yeah, but you brought it up!”
“So?”
“So you’re guilty, man!”
“Regardless,” Sephiroth chuckled now, returning his relaxed gaze to Cloud. “You get my point, Cadet: whether it’s mako intolerance or a peanut allergy, it is nothing to be ashamed of… just as I tell Zack all the time.”
It was then that Cloud got to witness the legendary, mystical sight of General Sephiroth ruffling Zack’s hair, the way Zack playfully swatted him and laughed that “this was about Spiky, wasn’t it?!”—only for Sephiroth to claim that he was to “look after all his SOLDIERs, was he not?”…
And the way he glanced at Cloud as he said this, smiling still, as if to bestow the sacred title upon him like a crown.
Cloud couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so Seen.
“…General?” He started slowly, watching as Sephiroth finally ceased in his ruffling and turned back towards him, a gentle smile still illuminating his face.
“Yes, Cadet?”
Cloud didn’t even need to swallow to make way for his voice, the drought in his throat long quenched by those healing raindrops of encouragement:
“Thanks, Sir. I really appreciate it. Both of you.”
Zack and Sephiroth seemed to smile as one.
“Anytime, Spike.”
“Heh… of course, Cadet.”
As the warm billows of gratitude drifted in the air between them, Sephiroth spared a glance at the clock, admitting, “I do have to go now, unfortunately; there’s a board meeting in fifteen minutes.” Sounding bored as Hellfire at the thought, he huffed an additional, “The joys of being a First, I suppose…”
“Want to ditch it?” Zack immediately suggested, much to Cloud’s amusement…
Especially as the General seemed to genuinely consider the prospect, tilting his head, a flicker of what could only be mischievousness flickering through his eyes before they returned to their natural, calm authority.
He placed a friendly hand on Zack’s shoulder.
“I’ll see you later.”
“See ya, pal.”
Releasing his hand, Sephiroth offered the smiling cadet one final nod in acknowledgement.
“And, Strife?”
“…Yes, Sir?”
One last smile, calm and unwaveringly honest. “You’re doing great, Cadet. More people are proud than you know.”
And as he made his way to the door, that famous waterfall of silver swishing behind him as he left the kitchen and strode out of view, Cloud found he didn’t have the words anymore to say Thank You, to properly express the newfound blaze that had sparked in his heart…
Only that his definition of “hero” had changed forever.