May to December
A FF7 Fan Fic
by
Lady Aoi
Summary: Elena has a lot to think about regarding a certain professor...
Pairing: You read that right, kids. Elena/Hojo. Old Hojo.
Rating: Rated PG-13 now but will be R for Angst, sexuality, language, Turkiness
Disclaimer: The lovely Elena and the awesome Hojo are owned by Square Soft. So are Reno, Rude, Tseng, Scarlet, Heidegger and anyone else who wanders into this fic. Don't sue me. Someday I wanna own my very own PS2 so I can buy more of your games...
Lady Aoi's Notes: Uh... yeah. For the record, I don't like fan pairings. I don't like reading fan fiction based on a couple who don't have a snowball's chance in hell because they don't really interact in the game/series/what have you. But everyone is a hypocrite sometimes, I guess. Basically, the Elena muse and the Hojo muse are both responsible for this story. They both really wanted it, and I really wanted to give it to them. And who knows? Considering that Hojo is something of a ladies man (*koff koff* Costa del Sol), maybe this isn't so improbable. "May to December" is also my first published FF7 fic, and one that I have written while still on disc one. Thus, patience and respect when reviewing and providing criticism are even more appreciated than usual. Enjoy!
~*~
They say that every little girl falls in love with and eventually marries her father. Well, okay. Not her father, really but... you know. Someone like her father. Blah. Oh, I'm getting all muddled again! Crap! Okay, okay, let me start over... um... when I was about eight or nine or so, my step mom used to subscribe to this magazine. You know the type; magazines with names like 'Glamour!' or 'Trendsetter'. They have all these articles about relationships and beauty tips and things? Well, anyway, my father and step mom used to fight a lot, so when they'd start in, I'd just go lock myself in the bathroom, and there'd be this huge stack of magazines by the toilet. So if I know a lot about make up and guys, it's not because I'm some airhead that can't think about anything else. I just had to do something to keep from hearing them... and believe me, 'Twelve Secrets to Drive Him Wild in Bed' isn't enough to make you ignore the sound of a chair leg cracking someone's head open. And you never remember all the different shades of eyeshadow as clearly as you remember that red stain in the middle of the white carpet in your living room -- the one he was probably hitting her for not vacuuming right. And all those models' blinding smiles... try watching a bunch of detectives take pictures of the dead body and guess what? Even stars won't seem bright to you again.
Yeah, I think I've had more to think about then guys and make up.
And I would never, ever, ever fall in love with a man like my father. I admit I get muddled a lot, and sometimes I don't understand everything, but I'm not a masoch--massa-- I'm not an idiot, okay? Reno says I am sometimes, but Reno's an ass. He's like a dorky, perverted little brother that's always trying to take pictures of you when you're in the shower or something. So I love him and all, but I know better than to listen to everything he says. Just like I know better then to tell him about any guys I may be seeing. I mean, I just turned twenty-four last month, and they just made me a Turk, for heck's sake! So I don't need Reno to take out any guys that treat me bad, 'cause I can take care of myself, thank you.
There's one guy I can't take out, though. In fact, none of us can. That's our boss, General Heidegger. I like my job and all, but I really hate him. He's fat, and ugly, and stupid, and worse, he hits everyone he can. All the time. If you're a soldier, or a cadet, or even if you're a Turk, he'll hit you. Reno says it's because he has PMS, and Rude always laughs at that, but they're just being dumb. PMS is heaven compared to three minutes in the same room with that braying psycho. Now, if I really wanted to fall in love with a guy like my father, I'd fall for someone like Heidegger... and then I'd tell Reno to commit me. Ugh!!
Well, as gross as Heidegger is, I guess this story really starts with him, four years ago. I'd only been twenty for a few days, and a cadet for even less days, when I had my first run-in with him. See, one of the things you do as a cadet is weapons maintenance. You have to learn how to clean, deconstruct and store every single weapon you'll probably ever use, which is a lot. And on this particular day, President Shinra was having some big parade through Midgard to celebrate his fortieth anniversary or something. So, they'd assigned me and three other cadets to carry the riffles we were gonna march with up from the shipping dock to a big storehouse for distribution on floor twenty-three. Only my partners never showed up. So there I was, on floor CC (that's three floors below the *basement*!), with 150 riffles to transport in less than forty minutes... and cadets weren't allowed to use elevators. Well, I panicked a little... okay, I panicked a lot, and ended up overloading myself with about six of the things. And on my fourth trip up the stairs, the one on the bottom started slipping and... before I could catch it, I dropped the entire stack of them. I guess I started panicking even more then, because I just could not pick them up without dropping them again. Oh, and the fact that Heidegger's heavy footsteps and his "Gyahahahaahaha!" were getting closer and closer every second only made things worse. Before I knew it, all 900 pounds and three and a half feet of him rounded the corner... just as my pile of guns went crashing to the floor for the fifth or sixth time.
"Uh oh." Yeah, yeah. I know. Just like a little kid with her hand in the cookie jar. But I just *know* I said "Uh oh" just about three seconds before Heidegger's face went from shocked to severely pissed off.
"Ahh! What the hell do you think you're doing, cadet?!?" he screamed as he ran towards me.
Yeah, I was scared. Scared enough to crap myself! Reno and Rude were already well on their way to being full-fledged Turks by the time I joined Shinra's army. So, every time they had a day off, they'd sit down with me over drinks and tell me all these stories about General Heidegger. About how he drank like a fish. About how he liked hitting people that messed up. About how he liked beating people that didn't do anything wrong just for the hell of it, whether drunk or not. So, yeah, I had every reason to be scared of this guy. But still, I managed to stand up straight and salute like I'd been taught as he charged towards me. "Sir! Carrying these riffles up to the twenty-third flo--"
I didn't even get the full sentence out before my head got turned to the side by one of his ham-handed punches. I was really scared now, so I forgot the advice Reno gave me. That is, to just stand there and not move when Heidegger hit you. And I think the fact that I raised my hand to my cheek to see if he'd broken anything just pissed him off even more.
"Where the hell's the rest of you?!"
"S--sir?!"
"This is a four man job, cadet! Why's there only one man on it?!"
"I dunno, sir! No one else showed up to help me and --"
I shoulda known he wouldn't want to hear it. He let me know that by punching me in the face again.
"This is delicate equipment, cadet! Where the hell is your help?!"
"I dunno sir! I really dunno!" And I didn't! What the fuck was his problem, anyway?!
"I dunno, sir!" he mimicked as he snatched a riffle from the floor. "Well, if you don't know how delicate it is, maybe I should show you. You don't carry guns three, four, and certainly not six at a time. You don't drop them on the floor. And you never, ever use them like this!"
I couldn't even cry out as the rifle's butt hit me right in the side. I definitely heard two crunches. The first as the butt connected with my ribs and the second as my ankle struck another riffle on my way to the floor.
"Or like this!" Smash! Against my back, knocking what was left of the wind out of me. "Or this!" Smash! Against my left leg. "Or this!" Smash! Against my waist.
"Sir..." I managed to choke out as I pulled myself into a ball. My nose hurt, my back hurt, and I knew I was bruised and bleeding in a lot of places. And then... it's true what they say. My life really *did* flash before me. I saw Melinda -- my real mom -- singing me to sleep. Then I saw that time Reno and me ran away and lived for five and a half days in a scrap pile in Wall Market before we got really hungry and went home. And finally, everything dissolved into the living room, with its white carpet and that huge red stain. The cameras were going off, and the room was getting brighter, but somehow the stain was only getting darker. I couldn't feel my legs. I couldn't do anything but lie there and try to cover my head. Oh, it didn't really hurt anymore, but it wasn't okay. I knew this maniac was gonna beat me to death and nobody would stop him. The only difference would be that this time, he'd be using a gun instead of a chair leg. Everything but the stain was getting so bright it hurt to look at, then. So I just closed my eyes and waited for him to smash my skull in.
Well, he never did. I mean, duh! The next thing I know, someone yells Heidegger's name. I guess it startled even him, because he stopped hitting me long enough to growl "Stay out of this, Hojo! This has nothing to do with you!"
Hojo... I was a bit too out of it to place the name right then. I was a bit too out of it to really listen, actually. Nevertheless...
"That may be, general, but your carrying on is proving to be quite the distraction. I'd wager technicians can hear your bellowing from here to the twenty-fifth floor." the new voice said. I remember thinking this guy was pretty ballsy to take on someone like Heidegger... and pretty accurate, too. You really could hear Heidegger bellowing floors and floors below you. That's part of why everyone was afraid of him. His bark really was just as bad as his bite.
"That so?" Heidegger snapped.
"Indeed. Now, why don't you go make yourself useful by screaming at and/or beating up the cadets who are presumably taking your lead and pestering some of my workers, hmm?"
"What the --?!"
"Yes, that's right. I hardly think you can effectively prepare for this parade with a dozen of your own cadets drunkenly wandering around the laboratory on the forty-first floor, but that's just my humble opinion. Now, President Shinra, on the other hand, might see things in a somewhat different light...yes, you have a nice day, too!"
It took me a moment to realize that Heidegger's heavy footsteps and swearing were actually running away from me and vanishing somewhere down the hallway. For a second, I think I actually relaxed. I wasn't gonna die. This nice guy named Hojo had actually saved me, and --
And then I remembered who this guy named Hojo actually was.
Three months ago, when I'd first applied to join the Shinra Army, Rude, Reno and me went to our favorite watering hole in Sector Eight: The Mog and Chocobo. Stupid name for a bar, huh? But damn, do they have great vodka! Well, the guys and me got a little more tanked up that night than usual, and we'd started discussing work. Specifically their work, since I was still working as a stock room girl in Wall Market at the time. Anyway, they were talking about the Shinra brass in some very unflattering terms. That was the night I learned about Heidegger. That was also the night I learned that Palmer routinely showed up to meeting stoned and Reeve was having an affair with President Shinra's son Rufus. The boys apparently had an older Turk friend named Tseng who was in the know and told them things. Sometimes the things he told them were even true. In fact, Reno assured me as he ordered us our eighth or ninth round that night, the dirt Tseng had on Professor Simon Hojo, the head of Shinra's Science Program was flat-out incontestably true. Well, he'd said "inconteschtabibily" but we all knew what he was talking about.
When I told Reno to quit messing around and spill his guts already, he gave me this silly little look and then launched into a weird half-hour story. Apparently, nobody really knew that much about the professor, except that he was a loner, a double Ph.D. and a Gemini. Oh yeah. And he was also a dirty old lech who liked performing experiments on girls after seducing them. At the time I'd just thought Reno was talking out of his ass like he usually does. But three months later and laying half conscious and bleeding in a hallway... yeah, I was a bit worried.
Well, make that *really* worried now because Simon Hojo had his hand on my shoulder and was currently stroking it while asking if I could move. I remember moaning and trying to pull away from him. I mean, who knew what he was gonna try! And wasn't it just my luck to get rescued from one maniac by another? Before passing out completely, I decided that god must have been laughing at me. And that, if god had been laughing at me within striking distance, I would have kicked him in his holy balls, regardless of not being able to feel my legs.
~*~
My memory's a bit fuzzy for awhile after that. I remember someone picking me up and putting me on a firm bed that smelled like formaldehyde and a blonde woman telling me to try and stay awake as the bed got picked up off the ground. I remember the fluorescent lights above winking past me like ghosts. I remember Reno petting my hair and telling me in a small, faraway voice that if I died on him, he'd kill me. Bits and pieces like that. And then, I don't remember anything but vague gray for a very, very long time.
When the gray finally lifts, I'm lying on my back in a sea of white, bleachy sheets. The bright overhead light fools me at first, and for a moment I think I'm in heaven or... at least somewhere that isn't too hot or uncomfortable. And just as I'm beginning to regret that thought about kicking god in his holy balls, a woman in a white dress with her hair tucked neatly under a white cap leans into my view. She laughs when I ask if she's an angel. No, dear, she says. She was a nurse and I was in a Shinra medical unit. Apparently I'd been sleeping for a month!
"A month?" I ask. "Huh?" And just as the whole shitty mess begins coming back to me, the door in front of me bursts open and three laughing, jostling guys come pouring in. True to form, they all ignore the nurse and her protest that 'this is a hospital, not a Turk kegger, gentlemen!' and rush to my side. Rude fails to keep up the tough guy schtick for once and actually gives me a smile and a "you had me worried there, 'Lena". Reno, on the other hand has to be physically restrained from hugging and/or hitting me while sobbing and screaming at the top of his lungs that I'd better not scare him like that again or else. Somehow in the middle of all this noise Tseng gets introduced. The quiet, older Turk with the dark hair just smiles and slides a bouquet of long stem white roses onto my lap with an 'it's nice to meet you, Elena'. And I'm instantly in love. Reno notices this and threatens to bash Tseng in the stomach because "she just woke up and you're already making her blush, jackass!" And although I'm happy to see them all, Reno's screaming and Rude's yelling "shut the fuck up, Reno!" every five seconds is really beginning to get to me. Apparently the nurse notices this, because ten Turks show up and drag the guys out of the room a few moments later. When I can hear her again over Reno and Rude's call and answer of "motherfuckers!" and "shut the fuck up, Reno!", the nurse just shakes her head.
"I'm sorry you had to put up with them, Cadet Marshall."
"Oh, it's okay," I try to give her a reassuring smile. It kind of hurts to smile, though. "They're my friends. We grew up together -- well Reno and Rude and me did -- and I'm used to it by now. They're just noisy like that all the time, so it's no bother."
"Be that as it may, you still need your rest, young lady. You have some nasty injuries, but they're healing well, and we're all confident that you'll make a full recovery. But not if you don't take care of yourself. You understand?"
"Yes, ma'am." And after getting my solemn word that I'd be a good girl and take a nap, the nurse left me to cuddle up in the starchy sheets and rest. And it seemed she was right about my wounds. I could feel my legs again, but they sure did ache, and the less said about my back and face, the better. I could tell they were both puffy and swollen. I was also able to turn my head far enough right to see that my arm was in a large bulky cast...
Which Rude, Reno and Tseng had just signed. In Reno's case with a dirty limerick. As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but chuckle. Those guys. What would they think of next?
~*~
I don't think I'd been out for too long before... hm. It's hard to say. You know how sometimes you feel weird and you turn around to find that there's someone behind you? Someone you didn't exactly see or touch but you just knew they were there? Well, whatever it is, I just remember getting this weird feeling that someone was close by. No, that someone was close by *and* looking at me! And as sick as I was, my eyes still flew right open as I gasped.
Sure enough, I was looking right up into some strange guy's face. At first I thought it was Tseng, but when I blinked the goop out of my eyes, I realized this guy was much, much older. But I could only tell that from the way he was sitting. His shoulders were a little hunched over, and not just in the normal way people hunch them when they're leaning close to look at something. No, he was hunching because of his age, which didn't really show up in his face or hair. I mean, he definitely had a receding hairline, but I could only make out a few gray strands here and there in his long dark ponytail and bangs. No, not bangs... fly aways. The guy actually had fly aways like some messy slum kid! They swept upwards toward his skullcap and then rushed downward to frame his temples and cheeks. The weird thing was, his face really didn't look that old either. He had a few laugh lines here and there, but mainly his face just looked pale and undernourished, like he'd been sitting under bright lights drinking coffee and straining his eyes for a few too many nights without sleep. And his eyes... I've seen Soldiers' eyes. They're always this deep, near-fluorescent green because of the mako they're exposed to. But there's always something fake about that color. Like some kid had taken a paintbrush to them. But these eyes weren't green like that at all. They were a deep, dark green -- the color of the pine trees in Reno's picture book, the one we used to look at when we were learning our alphabet. If I hadn't looked so closely, I would have sworn they were black.
Apparently I was staring. I mean, I had to have been, or I wouldn't have noticed the color of his eyes, especially beneath his elegant silver-rimmed spectacles. He gave me a little smile then and said: "Well, it looks like you're awake."
"I guess so." Huh. That was a stupid thing to say, I guess. But I was half asleep and this weird guy was just sitting there, so... "Uhm..."
But he finished my thought. "You're wondering who in the hell I am and what I'm doing here."
"Uh..." Yeah. "Yeah." Man, did he just read my mind or something?
"Forgive my rudeness." Uh.. okay, forgiven, I guess. "I was informed you'd awakened from your coma early this morning and I wanted to see you for myself."
"Okay...." I still have no idea where Mr. Mysterioso is going with this...
"I brought you some flowers. Don't worry. I checked your profile and chose something appropriate. That is, something that won't have any adverse effects on your recovery. It seems," he continues when I just stare at him, "that you have some fairly severe allergies. And having grown up in Midgard where flowers are, indeed, a rarity, the last thing I wanted to do was tax your immune system any more than it already has been."
My immune system? Huh? Flowers? "How did you know all that?" I ask him. "Like, about my allergies and where I grew up and stuff?"
"Hm? Oh, I simply checked your medical files," I blink. Say what?! How in the hell...
"Uh... don't you have to have proper clearance to do that?"
He looks as if he's about to laugh. "Proper secu--" and then he actually does. It's a reedy sounding chuckle. "Hehe. Oh, don't worry, Ms. Marshall. I can assure you that, indeed, I went through all proper channels to view your file. Hehe."
The giggle is a bit unnerving. "Well, okay, but I still don't know your name or anything."
But he's already standing and walking over to my night stand. I have to turn my head a little to see what he's doing. He's now standing there lightly stroking a red rose. One red rose among eleven others in a tall glass vase. I blink. Funny, I thought Tseng brought white ones. And it's then that I see their little white tops peeking over the cluster of red. Red and white... ugh....
"Ms. Marshall, is something the matter?" Instantly, the guy is looking at me again, his hand moving towards my forehead.
"No, no that's fine! It's just..." He looks at me with a mixture of puzzlement and concern, and then I realize how silly I'm being. I can't go through my whole life avoiding red and white things. Especially not flowers. And not flowers that two nice guys brought me as get well gifts.
"...It's nothing," I tell him after taking a moment to clear my mind of those awful pictures of carpets and blood. "I'm just a little surprised is all. They're really nice. Thank you."
He nods. "Well, I'm happy you like them, Ms. Marshall. I'm also happy to inform you of your extraordinary fortune." He sits down again and scoots his chair a little closer to my bed. "I began seeing to most of your injuries the moment Heidegger left. While I was able to help the worst of them, I was, sadly, unable to do much for your right arm. Even with the materia these ridiculous witch doctors insisted upon treating you with, your arm is probably going to give you some trouble for a little while. Be thankful, though. It staved off some very nasty blows that were intended for your skull simply because you had the good sense to cover your head." He doesn't acknowledge the fact I'm currently blinking like a fish and just continues. "The extent of your injuries was such that your body decided to shut down for a little while in order to repair them. And although we did have you on life support, I was confident it was only a matter of time before you would awaken."
"Oh." That's about all I can say, too. This guy treated me on the scene? But how could that be possible, unless he was right there when Heidegger was beating me? And if I remember right, only one other guy was there. And that guy was....
....
I can feel his eyes following mine as I look towards his name tag. A somewhat younger picture of the guy before me stares unsmilingly back. And next to that is a name.
Prof. S. Hojo.
Hojo....
"Eee."
"Eee?" His fly aways fall across his eyes as he tilts his head to follow my gaze. "Well, yes, I do need to get a new picture, but I was pleased with this one so --" He pauses for a moment and then raises his head to look into my eyes again. He's not smiling anymore.
"But that isn't the problem, I take it."
I'm a little too freaked out to answer correctly. Ieee. Professor Hojo! The guy that likes spying on girls in the shower! The guy that does weird experiments on cadets he -- the guy who brings them red roses first! Oh my god, I have to get out of --
And he's just laughing. He's giggling, in fact. Giggling! Giggling like some mad scientist. Like the mad scientist who freezes girls in his freezer that I know he is! I just like there and think, oh shit. Oh shit shit shit shit shit.
And then, as abruptly as the giggle starts, it dies down, and again he's looking at me with that weird, calm look. "Elena," he says after a moment. "Why are you looking at me as if I were about to attack you?"
In response, I just giggle back. "Looking at you like you were -- oh, professor! Don't be so silly! Hahahahahaha!" Oh shit oh shit ohshitohshitohshitshitshitshitshit...!!
He closes his eyes and leans his head, mouth first, into his left fist. "Elena," he says after a moment. "I don't know what particular brand of 'Professor Hojo is an Evil, Sadistic Bastard' stories the Turks are telling you cadets as of late, but I can assure you that many of them are lies. Typical products of some drunken Turk's lust for bawdy storytelling."
It flies out of my mouth before I can think. "So you don't experiment on girls?"
He looks at me as if I had just turned into a ten foot tall dancing mog. And then his entire face lights up as he begins giggling uncontrollably. "Heheheeheheh! Oh my, that is certainly the funniest and longest-lived rumor at Shinra, Inc... with the exception of Palmer's having an affair with Rufus... or was it Heidegger? There really are too many variants of that particular story."
"But I thought it was Rufus and R--" Shut up, Elena. Just shut up.
"No, Elena," he says after a moment. "It is true that I have performed one or two experiments on humans in my day, but I do not routinely abduct pretty girls from their beds and force them to participate in any scientific research, ethical or otherwise. Nor do I forcibly seduce them before or after my so-called 'experiments'... although I have certainly seduced more than a few women in my day."
I can feel my entire body blushing at that. "S--seduced?!"
"Well, it is getting late and I must return to my work," he gives me a polite little bow and then turns toward the door. "I hope you enjoy the flowers."
"P--wait, Professor Hojo?" He turns around and looks back at me. "Uhm... if the rumors aren't really true, then... um... why did you stop Heidegger from beating me up?"
His brow creases slightly. "Let us just say one can easily find several better alternatives for disciplining a soldier than killing him or her. Doing so is a needless waste of resources."
"Well, okay but still... you still didn't need to interfere, right? I mean --"
"No, I did not need to interfere. Wanting to do something and needing to do something are often two very different things."
He still hasn't answered my question, but he doesn't seem to want to. And I'm really feeling too tired again to fight with him. "Alright, okay," I sigh. "Thanks again for the flowers, sir."
"And thank you for not calling me a pervert when you woke up to find me looking at you. Good afternoon, Ms. Marshall." He opens the door and steps through it. "Oh, and one more thing," he says without turning around. "I really *am* a Gemini."
And with that, he's gone. The door slides quietly shut behind him.
I just sit there and stare after him. And then my eyes slowly turn back to the red roses. Red... hrm. Tseng just met me today and he gave me white ones. Professor Hojo just met me today (at least officially) and he gave me red ones... I might be a little creeped out if they weren't so pretty, or if I wasn't so tired. But being tired, I just shrug and snuggle back into the covers. Professor Hojo is weird and Tseng is a doll. I'll think about it more tomorrow when I'm awake.
(End Part One)
A FF7 Fan Fic
by
Lady Aoi
Summary: Elena has a lot to think about regarding a certain professor...
Pairing: You read that right, kids. Elena/Hojo. Old Hojo.
Rating: Rated PG-13 now but will be R for Angst, sexuality, language, Turkiness
Disclaimer: The lovely Elena and the awesome Hojo are owned by Square Soft. So are Reno, Rude, Tseng, Scarlet, Heidegger and anyone else who wanders into this fic. Don't sue me. Someday I wanna own my very own PS2 so I can buy more of your games...
Lady Aoi's Notes: Uh... yeah. For the record, I don't like fan pairings. I don't like reading fan fiction based on a couple who don't have a snowball's chance in hell because they don't really interact in the game/series/what have you. But everyone is a hypocrite sometimes, I guess. Basically, the Elena muse and the Hojo muse are both responsible for this story. They both really wanted it, and I really wanted to give it to them. And who knows? Considering that Hojo is something of a ladies man (*koff koff* Costa del Sol), maybe this isn't so improbable. "May to December" is also my first published FF7 fic, and one that I have written while still on disc one. Thus, patience and respect when reviewing and providing criticism are even more appreciated than usual. Enjoy!
~*~
They say that every little girl falls in love with and eventually marries her father. Well, okay. Not her father, really but... you know. Someone like her father. Blah. Oh, I'm getting all muddled again! Crap! Okay, okay, let me start over... um... when I was about eight or nine or so, my step mom used to subscribe to this magazine. You know the type; magazines with names like 'Glamour!' or 'Trendsetter'. They have all these articles about relationships and beauty tips and things? Well, anyway, my father and step mom used to fight a lot, so when they'd start in, I'd just go lock myself in the bathroom, and there'd be this huge stack of magazines by the toilet. So if I know a lot about make up and guys, it's not because I'm some airhead that can't think about anything else. I just had to do something to keep from hearing them... and believe me, 'Twelve Secrets to Drive Him Wild in Bed' isn't enough to make you ignore the sound of a chair leg cracking someone's head open. And you never remember all the different shades of eyeshadow as clearly as you remember that red stain in the middle of the white carpet in your living room -- the one he was probably hitting her for not vacuuming right. And all those models' blinding smiles... try watching a bunch of detectives take pictures of the dead body and guess what? Even stars won't seem bright to you again.
Yeah, I think I've had more to think about then guys and make up.
And I would never, ever, ever fall in love with a man like my father. I admit I get muddled a lot, and sometimes I don't understand everything, but I'm not a masoch--massa-- I'm not an idiot, okay? Reno says I am sometimes, but Reno's an ass. He's like a dorky, perverted little brother that's always trying to take pictures of you when you're in the shower or something. So I love him and all, but I know better than to listen to everything he says. Just like I know better then to tell him about any guys I may be seeing. I mean, I just turned twenty-four last month, and they just made me a Turk, for heck's sake! So I don't need Reno to take out any guys that treat me bad, 'cause I can take care of myself, thank you.
There's one guy I can't take out, though. In fact, none of us can. That's our boss, General Heidegger. I like my job and all, but I really hate him. He's fat, and ugly, and stupid, and worse, he hits everyone he can. All the time. If you're a soldier, or a cadet, or even if you're a Turk, he'll hit you. Reno says it's because he has PMS, and Rude always laughs at that, but they're just being dumb. PMS is heaven compared to three minutes in the same room with that braying psycho. Now, if I really wanted to fall in love with a guy like my father, I'd fall for someone like Heidegger... and then I'd tell Reno to commit me. Ugh!!
Well, as gross as Heidegger is, I guess this story really starts with him, four years ago. I'd only been twenty for a few days, and a cadet for even less days, when I had my first run-in with him. See, one of the things you do as a cadet is weapons maintenance. You have to learn how to clean, deconstruct and store every single weapon you'll probably ever use, which is a lot. And on this particular day, President Shinra was having some big parade through Midgard to celebrate his fortieth anniversary or something. So, they'd assigned me and three other cadets to carry the riffles we were gonna march with up from the shipping dock to a big storehouse for distribution on floor twenty-three. Only my partners never showed up. So there I was, on floor CC (that's three floors below the *basement*!), with 150 riffles to transport in less than forty minutes... and cadets weren't allowed to use elevators. Well, I panicked a little... okay, I panicked a lot, and ended up overloading myself with about six of the things. And on my fourth trip up the stairs, the one on the bottom started slipping and... before I could catch it, I dropped the entire stack of them. I guess I started panicking even more then, because I just could not pick them up without dropping them again. Oh, and the fact that Heidegger's heavy footsteps and his "Gyahahahaahaha!" were getting closer and closer every second only made things worse. Before I knew it, all 900 pounds and three and a half feet of him rounded the corner... just as my pile of guns went crashing to the floor for the fifth or sixth time.
"Uh oh." Yeah, yeah. I know. Just like a little kid with her hand in the cookie jar. But I just *know* I said "Uh oh" just about three seconds before Heidegger's face went from shocked to severely pissed off.
"Ahh! What the hell do you think you're doing, cadet?!?" he screamed as he ran towards me.
Yeah, I was scared. Scared enough to crap myself! Reno and Rude were already well on their way to being full-fledged Turks by the time I joined Shinra's army. So, every time they had a day off, they'd sit down with me over drinks and tell me all these stories about General Heidegger. About how he drank like a fish. About how he liked hitting people that messed up. About how he liked beating people that didn't do anything wrong just for the hell of it, whether drunk or not. So, yeah, I had every reason to be scared of this guy. But still, I managed to stand up straight and salute like I'd been taught as he charged towards me. "Sir! Carrying these riffles up to the twenty-third flo--"
I didn't even get the full sentence out before my head got turned to the side by one of his ham-handed punches. I was really scared now, so I forgot the advice Reno gave me. That is, to just stand there and not move when Heidegger hit you. And I think the fact that I raised my hand to my cheek to see if he'd broken anything just pissed him off even more.
"Where the hell's the rest of you?!"
"S--sir?!"
"This is a four man job, cadet! Why's there only one man on it?!"
"I dunno, sir! No one else showed up to help me and --"
I shoulda known he wouldn't want to hear it. He let me know that by punching me in the face again.
"This is delicate equipment, cadet! Where the hell is your help?!"
"I dunno sir! I really dunno!" And I didn't! What the fuck was his problem, anyway?!
"I dunno, sir!" he mimicked as he snatched a riffle from the floor. "Well, if you don't know how delicate it is, maybe I should show you. You don't carry guns three, four, and certainly not six at a time. You don't drop them on the floor. And you never, ever use them like this!"
I couldn't even cry out as the rifle's butt hit me right in the side. I definitely heard two crunches. The first as the butt connected with my ribs and the second as my ankle struck another riffle on my way to the floor.
"Or like this!" Smash! Against my back, knocking what was left of the wind out of me. "Or this!" Smash! Against my left leg. "Or this!" Smash! Against my waist.
"Sir..." I managed to choke out as I pulled myself into a ball. My nose hurt, my back hurt, and I knew I was bruised and bleeding in a lot of places. And then... it's true what they say. My life really *did* flash before me. I saw Melinda -- my real mom -- singing me to sleep. Then I saw that time Reno and me ran away and lived for five and a half days in a scrap pile in Wall Market before we got really hungry and went home. And finally, everything dissolved into the living room, with its white carpet and that huge red stain. The cameras were going off, and the room was getting brighter, but somehow the stain was only getting darker. I couldn't feel my legs. I couldn't do anything but lie there and try to cover my head. Oh, it didn't really hurt anymore, but it wasn't okay. I knew this maniac was gonna beat me to death and nobody would stop him. The only difference would be that this time, he'd be using a gun instead of a chair leg. Everything but the stain was getting so bright it hurt to look at, then. So I just closed my eyes and waited for him to smash my skull in.
Well, he never did. I mean, duh! The next thing I know, someone yells Heidegger's name. I guess it startled even him, because he stopped hitting me long enough to growl "Stay out of this, Hojo! This has nothing to do with you!"
Hojo... I was a bit too out of it to place the name right then. I was a bit too out of it to really listen, actually. Nevertheless...
"That may be, general, but your carrying on is proving to be quite the distraction. I'd wager technicians can hear your bellowing from here to the twenty-fifth floor." the new voice said. I remember thinking this guy was pretty ballsy to take on someone like Heidegger... and pretty accurate, too. You really could hear Heidegger bellowing floors and floors below you. That's part of why everyone was afraid of him. His bark really was just as bad as his bite.
"That so?" Heidegger snapped.
"Indeed. Now, why don't you go make yourself useful by screaming at and/or beating up the cadets who are presumably taking your lead and pestering some of my workers, hmm?"
"What the --?!"
"Yes, that's right. I hardly think you can effectively prepare for this parade with a dozen of your own cadets drunkenly wandering around the laboratory on the forty-first floor, but that's just my humble opinion. Now, President Shinra, on the other hand, might see things in a somewhat different light...yes, you have a nice day, too!"
It took me a moment to realize that Heidegger's heavy footsteps and swearing were actually running away from me and vanishing somewhere down the hallway. For a second, I think I actually relaxed. I wasn't gonna die. This nice guy named Hojo had actually saved me, and --
And then I remembered who this guy named Hojo actually was.
Three months ago, when I'd first applied to join the Shinra Army, Rude, Reno and me went to our favorite watering hole in Sector Eight: The Mog and Chocobo. Stupid name for a bar, huh? But damn, do they have great vodka! Well, the guys and me got a little more tanked up that night than usual, and we'd started discussing work. Specifically their work, since I was still working as a stock room girl in Wall Market at the time. Anyway, they were talking about the Shinra brass in some very unflattering terms. That was the night I learned about Heidegger. That was also the night I learned that Palmer routinely showed up to meeting stoned and Reeve was having an affair with President Shinra's son Rufus. The boys apparently had an older Turk friend named Tseng who was in the know and told them things. Sometimes the things he told them were even true. In fact, Reno assured me as he ordered us our eighth or ninth round that night, the dirt Tseng had on Professor Simon Hojo, the head of Shinra's Science Program was flat-out incontestably true. Well, he'd said "inconteschtabibily" but we all knew what he was talking about.
When I told Reno to quit messing around and spill his guts already, he gave me this silly little look and then launched into a weird half-hour story. Apparently, nobody really knew that much about the professor, except that he was a loner, a double Ph.D. and a Gemini. Oh yeah. And he was also a dirty old lech who liked performing experiments on girls after seducing them. At the time I'd just thought Reno was talking out of his ass like he usually does. But three months later and laying half conscious and bleeding in a hallway... yeah, I was a bit worried.
Well, make that *really* worried now because Simon Hojo had his hand on my shoulder and was currently stroking it while asking if I could move. I remember moaning and trying to pull away from him. I mean, who knew what he was gonna try! And wasn't it just my luck to get rescued from one maniac by another? Before passing out completely, I decided that god must have been laughing at me. And that, if god had been laughing at me within striking distance, I would have kicked him in his holy balls, regardless of not being able to feel my legs.
~*~
My memory's a bit fuzzy for awhile after that. I remember someone picking me up and putting me on a firm bed that smelled like formaldehyde and a blonde woman telling me to try and stay awake as the bed got picked up off the ground. I remember the fluorescent lights above winking past me like ghosts. I remember Reno petting my hair and telling me in a small, faraway voice that if I died on him, he'd kill me. Bits and pieces like that. And then, I don't remember anything but vague gray for a very, very long time.
When the gray finally lifts, I'm lying on my back in a sea of white, bleachy sheets. The bright overhead light fools me at first, and for a moment I think I'm in heaven or... at least somewhere that isn't too hot or uncomfortable. And just as I'm beginning to regret that thought about kicking god in his holy balls, a woman in a white dress with her hair tucked neatly under a white cap leans into my view. She laughs when I ask if she's an angel. No, dear, she says. She was a nurse and I was in a Shinra medical unit. Apparently I'd been sleeping for a month!
"A month?" I ask. "Huh?" And just as the whole shitty mess begins coming back to me, the door in front of me bursts open and three laughing, jostling guys come pouring in. True to form, they all ignore the nurse and her protest that 'this is a hospital, not a Turk kegger, gentlemen!' and rush to my side. Rude fails to keep up the tough guy schtick for once and actually gives me a smile and a "you had me worried there, 'Lena". Reno, on the other hand has to be physically restrained from hugging and/or hitting me while sobbing and screaming at the top of his lungs that I'd better not scare him like that again or else. Somehow in the middle of all this noise Tseng gets introduced. The quiet, older Turk with the dark hair just smiles and slides a bouquet of long stem white roses onto my lap with an 'it's nice to meet you, Elena'. And I'm instantly in love. Reno notices this and threatens to bash Tseng in the stomach because "she just woke up and you're already making her blush, jackass!" And although I'm happy to see them all, Reno's screaming and Rude's yelling "shut the fuck up, Reno!" every five seconds is really beginning to get to me. Apparently the nurse notices this, because ten Turks show up and drag the guys out of the room a few moments later. When I can hear her again over Reno and Rude's call and answer of "motherfuckers!" and "shut the fuck up, Reno!", the nurse just shakes her head.
"I'm sorry you had to put up with them, Cadet Marshall."
"Oh, it's okay," I try to give her a reassuring smile. It kind of hurts to smile, though. "They're my friends. We grew up together -- well Reno and Rude and me did -- and I'm used to it by now. They're just noisy like that all the time, so it's no bother."
"Be that as it may, you still need your rest, young lady. You have some nasty injuries, but they're healing well, and we're all confident that you'll make a full recovery. But not if you don't take care of yourself. You understand?"
"Yes, ma'am." And after getting my solemn word that I'd be a good girl and take a nap, the nurse left me to cuddle up in the starchy sheets and rest. And it seemed she was right about my wounds. I could feel my legs again, but they sure did ache, and the less said about my back and face, the better. I could tell they were both puffy and swollen. I was also able to turn my head far enough right to see that my arm was in a large bulky cast...
Which Rude, Reno and Tseng had just signed. In Reno's case with a dirty limerick. As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but chuckle. Those guys. What would they think of next?
~*~
I don't think I'd been out for too long before... hm. It's hard to say. You know how sometimes you feel weird and you turn around to find that there's someone behind you? Someone you didn't exactly see or touch but you just knew they were there? Well, whatever it is, I just remember getting this weird feeling that someone was close by. No, that someone was close by *and* looking at me! And as sick as I was, my eyes still flew right open as I gasped.
Sure enough, I was looking right up into some strange guy's face. At first I thought it was Tseng, but when I blinked the goop out of my eyes, I realized this guy was much, much older. But I could only tell that from the way he was sitting. His shoulders were a little hunched over, and not just in the normal way people hunch them when they're leaning close to look at something. No, he was hunching because of his age, which didn't really show up in his face or hair. I mean, he definitely had a receding hairline, but I could only make out a few gray strands here and there in his long dark ponytail and bangs. No, not bangs... fly aways. The guy actually had fly aways like some messy slum kid! They swept upwards toward his skullcap and then rushed downward to frame his temples and cheeks. The weird thing was, his face really didn't look that old either. He had a few laugh lines here and there, but mainly his face just looked pale and undernourished, like he'd been sitting under bright lights drinking coffee and straining his eyes for a few too many nights without sleep. And his eyes... I've seen Soldiers' eyes. They're always this deep, near-fluorescent green because of the mako they're exposed to. But there's always something fake about that color. Like some kid had taken a paintbrush to them. But these eyes weren't green like that at all. They were a deep, dark green -- the color of the pine trees in Reno's picture book, the one we used to look at when we were learning our alphabet. If I hadn't looked so closely, I would have sworn they were black.
Apparently I was staring. I mean, I had to have been, or I wouldn't have noticed the color of his eyes, especially beneath his elegant silver-rimmed spectacles. He gave me a little smile then and said: "Well, it looks like you're awake."
"I guess so." Huh. That was a stupid thing to say, I guess. But I was half asleep and this weird guy was just sitting there, so... "Uhm..."
But he finished my thought. "You're wondering who in the hell I am and what I'm doing here."
"Uh..." Yeah. "Yeah." Man, did he just read my mind or something?
"Forgive my rudeness." Uh.. okay, forgiven, I guess. "I was informed you'd awakened from your coma early this morning and I wanted to see you for myself."
"Okay...." I still have no idea where Mr. Mysterioso is going with this...
"I brought you some flowers. Don't worry. I checked your profile and chose something appropriate. That is, something that won't have any adverse effects on your recovery. It seems," he continues when I just stare at him, "that you have some fairly severe allergies. And having grown up in Midgard where flowers are, indeed, a rarity, the last thing I wanted to do was tax your immune system any more than it already has been."
My immune system? Huh? Flowers? "How did you know all that?" I ask him. "Like, about my allergies and where I grew up and stuff?"
"Hm? Oh, I simply checked your medical files," I blink. Say what?! How in the hell...
"Uh... don't you have to have proper clearance to do that?"
He looks as if he's about to laugh. "Proper secu--" and then he actually does. It's a reedy sounding chuckle. "Hehe. Oh, don't worry, Ms. Marshall. I can assure you that, indeed, I went through all proper channels to view your file. Hehe."
The giggle is a bit unnerving. "Well, okay, but I still don't know your name or anything."
But he's already standing and walking over to my night stand. I have to turn my head a little to see what he's doing. He's now standing there lightly stroking a red rose. One red rose among eleven others in a tall glass vase. I blink. Funny, I thought Tseng brought white ones. And it's then that I see their little white tops peeking over the cluster of red. Red and white... ugh....
"Ms. Marshall, is something the matter?" Instantly, the guy is looking at me again, his hand moving towards my forehead.
"No, no that's fine! It's just..." He looks at me with a mixture of puzzlement and concern, and then I realize how silly I'm being. I can't go through my whole life avoiding red and white things. Especially not flowers. And not flowers that two nice guys brought me as get well gifts.
"...It's nothing," I tell him after taking a moment to clear my mind of those awful pictures of carpets and blood. "I'm just a little surprised is all. They're really nice. Thank you."
He nods. "Well, I'm happy you like them, Ms. Marshall. I'm also happy to inform you of your extraordinary fortune." He sits down again and scoots his chair a little closer to my bed. "I began seeing to most of your injuries the moment Heidegger left. While I was able to help the worst of them, I was, sadly, unable to do much for your right arm. Even with the materia these ridiculous witch doctors insisted upon treating you with, your arm is probably going to give you some trouble for a little while. Be thankful, though. It staved off some very nasty blows that were intended for your skull simply because you had the good sense to cover your head." He doesn't acknowledge the fact I'm currently blinking like a fish and just continues. "The extent of your injuries was such that your body decided to shut down for a little while in order to repair them. And although we did have you on life support, I was confident it was only a matter of time before you would awaken."
"Oh." That's about all I can say, too. This guy treated me on the scene? But how could that be possible, unless he was right there when Heidegger was beating me? And if I remember right, only one other guy was there. And that guy was....
....
I can feel his eyes following mine as I look towards his name tag. A somewhat younger picture of the guy before me stares unsmilingly back. And next to that is a name.
Prof. S. Hojo.
Hojo....
"Eee."
"Eee?" His fly aways fall across his eyes as he tilts his head to follow my gaze. "Well, yes, I do need to get a new picture, but I was pleased with this one so --" He pauses for a moment and then raises his head to look into my eyes again. He's not smiling anymore.
"But that isn't the problem, I take it."
I'm a little too freaked out to answer correctly. Ieee. Professor Hojo! The guy that likes spying on girls in the shower! The guy that does weird experiments on cadets he -- the guy who brings them red roses first! Oh my god, I have to get out of --
And he's just laughing. He's giggling, in fact. Giggling! Giggling like some mad scientist. Like the mad scientist who freezes girls in his freezer that I know he is! I just like there and think, oh shit. Oh shit shit shit shit shit.
And then, as abruptly as the giggle starts, it dies down, and again he's looking at me with that weird, calm look. "Elena," he says after a moment. "Why are you looking at me as if I were about to attack you?"
In response, I just giggle back. "Looking at you like you were -- oh, professor! Don't be so silly! Hahahahahaha!" Oh shit oh shit ohshitohshitohshitshitshitshitshit...!!
He closes his eyes and leans his head, mouth first, into his left fist. "Elena," he says after a moment. "I don't know what particular brand of 'Professor Hojo is an Evil, Sadistic Bastard' stories the Turks are telling you cadets as of late, but I can assure you that many of them are lies. Typical products of some drunken Turk's lust for bawdy storytelling."
It flies out of my mouth before I can think. "So you don't experiment on girls?"
He looks at me as if I had just turned into a ten foot tall dancing mog. And then his entire face lights up as he begins giggling uncontrollably. "Heheheeheheh! Oh my, that is certainly the funniest and longest-lived rumor at Shinra, Inc... with the exception of Palmer's having an affair with Rufus... or was it Heidegger? There really are too many variants of that particular story."
"But I thought it was Rufus and R--" Shut up, Elena. Just shut up.
"No, Elena," he says after a moment. "It is true that I have performed one or two experiments on humans in my day, but I do not routinely abduct pretty girls from their beds and force them to participate in any scientific research, ethical or otherwise. Nor do I forcibly seduce them before or after my so-called 'experiments'... although I have certainly seduced more than a few women in my day."
I can feel my entire body blushing at that. "S--seduced?!"
"Well, it is getting late and I must return to my work," he gives me a polite little bow and then turns toward the door. "I hope you enjoy the flowers."
"P--wait, Professor Hojo?" He turns around and looks back at me. "Uhm... if the rumors aren't really true, then... um... why did you stop Heidegger from beating me up?"
His brow creases slightly. "Let us just say one can easily find several better alternatives for disciplining a soldier than killing him or her. Doing so is a needless waste of resources."
"Well, okay but still... you still didn't need to interfere, right? I mean --"
"No, I did not need to interfere. Wanting to do something and needing to do something are often two very different things."
He still hasn't answered my question, but he doesn't seem to want to. And I'm really feeling too tired again to fight with him. "Alright, okay," I sigh. "Thanks again for the flowers, sir."
"And thank you for not calling me a pervert when you woke up to find me looking at you. Good afternoon, Ms. Marshall." He opens the door and steps through it. "Oh, and one more thing," he says without turning around. "I really *am* a Gemini."
And with that, he's gone. The door slides quietly shut behind him.
I just sit there and stare after him. And then my eyes slowly turn back to the red roses. Red... hrm. Tseng just met me today and he gave me white ones. Professor Hojo just met me today (at least officially) and he gave me red ones... I might be a little creeped out if they weren't so pretty, or if I wasn't so tired. But being tired, I just shrug and snuggle back into the covers. Professor Hojo is weird and Tseng is a doll. I'll think about it more tomorrow when I'm awake.
(End Part One)