Blood and Steel
By: Lazeralk
Standard disclaimers apply
FF7/Saiyuki crossover
Warnings: This will have implied Shonen-Ai. I suck as yaoi, even though I love it dearly.
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AN: This is just something that's been floating around inside my head and constantly demanding attention. To my knowledge, it is the first FF7/Saiyuki Crossover on FF dot net, and I hope it's enjoyable to you all. I've mapped out pretty much everything I can think of concerning the structure of the Shin-Ra military so if there are any questions about the system I'm using for this fic, please don't hesitate to ask.
If you are an FF7 fan, you probably know more about the game than I do, so if you spot any glaring mistakes in my portrayal of all things FF7, please, please let me know so that I can fix it. I'm trying to stay as true to the game world, and to Saiyuki, as I can.
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Gyokumen Koshu looked down at the report in her hands and frowned. Her team of scientists were nearing the completion of their research and it would soon be time to perform the actual ceremony that would awaken Gyu Ma-Oh. She pondered her position as coldly as she could manage, looking for flaws. Kougaiji would quickly become a problem for her as the ceremony drew near. He would demand that his mother be included in the process, and she had no intention of doing such a thing. Once Gyu Ma-Oh was revived, Gyokumen, not Rasetsunyo, would stand at his side as queen.
She had to get rid of him, of them both really. However, Rasetsunyo was still imprisoned in stone, Kougaiji was not. She weighed the pros and cons of keeping the prince in her head as she tapped the clipboard against the arm of her throne.
No, he had to go. She would have considered keeping him if he'd succeeded in bringing her Genjo Sanzo's scripture, but he'd failed even in that simple task. So it was decided, Kougaiji had to be removed from the playing board. How to get rid of him though?
Kougaiji was a skilled warrior, and so could not be confronted head on. None of his men would betray him, he was too charismatic a leader, and she had no assassins that favored her over him. He was simply too powerful in that regard. Some sort of treachery on her part was the obvious answer, but the exact details of such a venture eluded her. She pondered the issue long and hard until an idea began to form in her mind.
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Kougaiji, Prince of Demons, smiled lazily at his younger half-sister as she shrieked with joy. Yaone, not quite as happy as her prince, but still enjoying herself, struggled futilely to keep up with Princess Lirin.
Shaking his head at his sister's antics, he turned and headed deeper into the heart of Ho-Tu Castle. Lady Gyokumen had once again summoned him to his father's throne room. He bristled with righteous indignation at the sight of his father's whore on the throne. Once Gyu Ma-Oh was revived he'd tell him exactly what the manipulative woman was doing in his stead.
"Ah, Kougaiji. Come in." she said. As if she had any right to address him by his given name. He was royalty, she was a concubine, and it wasn't proper in the least.
"You called?" he asked, keeping the contempt out of his voice with some effort.
"Yes, indeed I did." She said, sneering down at him.
He refused to speak again, and waited patiently for whatever it was that she wanted. If she weren't vital to getting his mother back, he'd have killed her long ago for her disrespect.
"I need the Seten scripture from Genjo Sanzo, and I need it now. Since you've had some trouble in the past with him, I've dug up a particularly powerful spell for you to use. It's a summoning technique, so I'm sure you're abilities will be up to the challenge." She mocked as she tossed a sealed scroll down to him.
His hand snapped out and caught it, but he was otherwise unmoved.
"It will Summon the demi-god Seraphim. Surely that will be enough to get a scroll from a priest and his rag tag bunch of misfits." She said, her tone as condescending as she could make it.
He grunted at her and popped the seal, reading over the tight circles of runes and magical symbols. They looked a little odd to him, but then, he'd never Summoned a demi-god before. Gyokumen look a little miffed at being ignored during an audience, but dismissed it when he snapped the scroll shut and strode out of the room with out another word.
Once the door was firmly shut behind him, she allowed a tiny, satisfied smirk to grace her lips. One down.
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General Sephiroth placed his newly finished stack of paperwork in the 'out' box on his desk and pulled the next set towards him. The seemingly endless spreadsheets of inventory for the compound stared back at him.
Signing mentally, he set to work on them, checking the numbers against the lists of ideal stock, his pen scratching across the paper in smooth strokes.
Something crackled, like a snap of electricity, and he glanced up. The room was empty, but felt somehow, imperceptibly, changed. His face drawn into his usual tight-lipped frown, he set his pen down on the desk and waited in the silence.
A second crackle of electricity shot through the room and his eyes traced it before he stood and lifted Masamune from its place on the wall. He took a casual stance and waited, sword in hand.
Light began to shoot up from the floor and was matched by light coming down from the ceiling. He glanced out his office window and saw that it was still night. He gripped the hilt of the sword a little tighter as the feeling that something big was about to happen built in him.
The lights grew and expanded, shining from a thousand sources that had no beginning. The points of light formed two matching circles, one a few inches off the floor and the other a few inches from the ceiling. Strange symbols and designs rapidly filled both circles, lightning jumping back and forth between them.
A figure, floating in space with its arms crossed in front of its face began to form from the darkness between the circles. The figure twitched and withered when the lightening struck it, but it made no sound.
Color bled into the figure, revealing long wisps of blood red hair and darkly tanned skin. The young man's eyes were tightly shut, hiding the color, but Sephiroth suspected they would be just as unusual as the rest of him. Light tan pants clung tightly to his long legs and a black jacket with the sleeves cut and buckled just below his elbows covered his upper body. Circles of dull metal wrapped around his forehead, neck and wrists and large pyramid shaped earrings dangled from his too long ears.
Sephiroth actually raised an eyebrow in surprise when he noticed the elfin ears, and the large set of red marks on the left side of the boy's face. Just as he'd finished his assessment of his visitor's features, the light and the circles abruptly vanished and the young man crashed bonelessly to the floor and lay there, sprawled and unmoving.
Sephiroth blinked at the body that had been so unceremoniously dumped on his office floor and sighed. He turned his back and placed Masamune back on the wall, only slightly disappointed that he hadn't needed it. He approached the figure on the ground and studied the now relaxed face for a moment before leaning down and scooping the unconscious man up.
If he took him down to the infirmary, then Hojo would certainly hear of him. The boy could not hide his outlandish features and would no doubt spark the curiosity of the sadistic old man. Even though the boy was a stranger, he would not wish such a fate on him.
"Looks like you're bunking with me until I can figure out what to do with you." He told his silent companion. The boy in his arms did not reply.
He was suddenly struck with the potential of the young man, the danger, the possibilities, the sheer amount of trouble he was going to be once people found out about him. Sephiroth tightened his grip on the sleeping boy, suddenly determined to keep him. He was slightly loath to let anyone else take his newest acquisition away from him for much more mundane reasons anyway.
After all, it wasn't everyday that a person appeared out of thin air and collapsed in his office. Such a thing made the young man, undeniably, his.
He made the short trip to his quarters the roundabout way, to avoid prying eyes and video cameras, and struggled a little with the key card. Once he'd managed to get the door open, he wrestled the two of them in and kicked the door shut behind him. Privacy ensured, he made his way to his bedroom, dropped the boy on the king sized bed and put his fists on his hips. He stared down at the elf and frowned at the heavy boots, and the armor attached to them, before letting his gaze rest on the metal rings around his head, neck and wrists.
Sighing quietly to himself, he tugged the boots off and set them by the side of the bed. He tackled the rings next and found that it was easy to get the bracelets off but not the collars or circlets.
He finally found the tiny catch on the backs of both and was quietly impressed with the craftsmanship when they opened along a previously invisible hinge. He set the metal circles, seven in all, on the bed side table and then scrutinized the jacket. He pulled at the tiny buckles on the sleeves, being mindful of his great strength as not to break the flimsy things, and finally had them undone. He gently pulled the earrings out and set them beside the circles. He sat the young man up and braced his limp body against his shoulder as he pulled the jacket off his arms and revealed that the boy wasn't wearing anything underneath.
Grumbling, Sephiroth laid the boy back down and strode over to his closet. He pulled out a hanger and slipped the jacket onto it and hung it up beside his second best leather trench coat. He fumbled around in one of his dressers until he found a plain white undershirt and struggled his sleeping guest into it.
Satisfied, he pulled the covers down around the boy's body, while he was still on top of them, and then covered his guest in an almost gentle manner. Nodding to himself, he walked out of his bedroom and shut the door behind him. He decided that he'd bring his remaining work into his study and then take it back with him when he stopped by his office in the morning.
Goal set, he headed off in the direction of his waiting paperwork.
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