Summary: Sometimes acting on that homicidal impulse is the right thing to do. Pre-crazy Sephiroth.

Disclaimer: I waive whatever rights I'm supposed to be waiving here

White flecks gracefully flittered through the air, brilliant in the fluorescent light as they fell. A few struck and adhered to the red slicked surface of the blade whose tip had liberated them from the rest of the ceiling tile. Sephiroth looked slowly up the length of his beloved sword. He'd never swung it in the lab before; he should have known he would nick the ceiling with that stroke. And a good stroke it had been, as clean and as fast as any he had thrown in the heat of battle. But it had been only a single stroke. He needed only the one.

He turned his gaze to his target before him. The bastard had not even had enough time to replace his normal triumphant sneer with shock. Hojo, for the moment, looked completely normal. But not for long. As Sephiroth watched a tiny red line appeared almost down the center of Hojo's face and neck. Only the barest trickle of blood escaped before the two halves slid slowly apart, one side tilting towards him and the other away, then both suddenly collapsing onto the floor. Once the blood vessels stopped their temporary constriction from the trauma they let loose a red flood, spattering the general's legs and pooling around his boots.

He had done this trick many times on the battlefield. The unnatural speed of his stroke combined with a razor sharp a blade would sever body portions so cleanly that they would sometimes cleave momentarily together. But he never had the leisure, or maybe more importantly the inclination, for savoring the sight.

But he savored it now.

He plucked a full sized kimwipe from a lab bench and casually wiped Masumune clean. One green eye glinted back at him in the polished steel.

"I don't think so," he said to the corpse, before turning and walking slowly out of the lab.

On his way back to his office Sephiroth had to fight the inclination to grin like a child with birthday cake. He felt positively giddy. Sure, this was going to create some problems. It might even be the end of him. But mostly he wondered why he had not done it sooner. He had been raised to rigidly respect authority, and although Hojo had tortured and tormented him his whole life, that was the life Sephiroth had and he accepted that. But Hojo was a damn fool to think he could stand there safely in front of him and demand that he hand over "a few SOLDIERS" for some of the same treatment. There was no way, no fucking way, any of his men were going on that table.

He slid his mouse around roughly to wake up his computer, and composed an email to the president.

Mr. ShinRa

I have killed Professor Hojo in the lab. You probably want to send a cleanup team down there.

-Sephiroth

He looked at the short message before deciding there wasn't much else to say and pushing send. Then he shut down his computer and left.

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"Aw, man!" Reno picked up his foot from a slick red puddle that had run all the way to the doorway. With a nimble step sideways he managed to find a clear spot to stand in.

"What a mess." Rude surveyed the impressive amount of red on the floor. The sickly smell of blood competed with the normal chemical odor of the lab. He clenched his heavy jaws in distaste. "And I always thought Hojo was a dried up, bloodless lunatic."

"Blood sucking lunatic more like it." Reno took another hop to get a better view. "Hey!" he looked up, grinning under a mop of fiery hair, "You gotta see this; he sliced him clean in half! I gotta give the General credit for this one."

Rude leaned over and grunted.

"We need a body bag."

"Rude, we're in Hojo's lab, yo."

"Oh yeah, right."

Reno disappeared in the next room and returned carrying a black bundle made of heavy plastic and pulling a wheeled cart behind him.

"I'm not even going to ask how you knew where that was."

Reno shook out the body bag and laid it on the gory floor the way one might spread a picnic blanket. "Well, I must say, it couldn't have happened to a better guy, Professor Hojo," he said, grinning maniacally.

They both stepped carefully up to one of the body halves, Rude grabbing a foot and Reno grabbing the half-head. As he lifted, the fingers on Reno's left hand curled around the cut edge of the skull and sank into the soft matter behind. He jerked slightly with revulsion, and the combination of smooth lab floor, blood, and Turk dress shoes sent him sprawling, taking Rude down with him.

"Shit, goddamfucking sonofwhore!"

Once they were down and covered with the slick stuff getting back on their feet proved challenging. Reno's frenzy to get upright was actually hindering his progress.

"Damn it! Why is does the floor have to be so fucking smooth?"

"So Hojo can hose the blood and guts off it."

They looked at one another, then over the wall.

"Hose," Reno said and went for one of the coils hanging on the wall.

"NO! Not that one!" Rude yelled, "It got green shit in it! Get the one labeled water!"

With the power of the hose things went better. They hosed off the floor, the body bag, the body, and each other. Rude even hosed clean parts of the floor that were not in their way.

"Housewife," Reno said when he was done. Rude opened the water jet square into his face.

A/N : Thanks to anybody who reads this, but especially any reviewers. Help me out if you can, I'm particularly interested in hearing about anything that was unclear on the first read (or god forbid the second or third read) or anything that caused you to stop and say "no way". I'll update soon.