Chapter Text
“Shit,” Zack swore as he noticed the cadets beginning to swarm around what appeared to be a fight. While these weren’t his cadets, he knew better than to walk away. These things tended to get out of hand quickly. As Zack pulled closer, he saw two men grappling on the ground, one finally rolling to hold the smaller cadet under him. The larger man began pummeling the other across the face, despite the feeble attempts to cover his head. Before Zack had a chance to pull the two apart, the smaller blond pulled his right leg up, and forced the other’s weight off his frame with a string of what could only be expletives. As soon as the weight was off his chest, the blond threw himself at the larger man.
“Stop. STOP. Fucking stop!” Zack reached down and hauled the blond back by his collar, practically throwing him backwards to keep the two apart. At his words, the observers apprehended both brawlers, dragging the auburn haired man to his feet. The man snarled across at the blond, while blood poured from his nose. Zack turned to see the smaller cadet had fared a bit better, only a growing bruise visible on his left cheek. Both were breathing hard.
“Anyone wanna fill me in on what’s going on?” Zack looked around the circle of men, frowning when no one dared to meet his glare. Finally he looked between the blond and redhead. It was then that the small cadet looked up and met Zack’s look with his own glare. Deep blue eyes filled with fury and anger looking into his own blue and mako green eyes. “Well?” Zack tried again.
The cadet looked away, spitting a final, “Verpiss dich,” to the man across from him.
Zack blinked. He didn’t know exactly what that meant, but he knew a swear when he heard one. “Fine. You two come with me. Who is your platoon leader?” he demanded.
“Third Class Hayes, sir.” The auburn answered, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand. He frowned when the bleeding continued.
“Both of you?” The blond nodded slowly, his eyes downcast.
Zack sighed. This wasn’t the first fight from Hayes’ platoon. Apparently the current roster was already proving to be a handful. He turned, motioning for the fighters to follow him. The trio continued down the hall and into a waiting elevator. The ride was quiet until Zack asked for their names.
“Ben Jackson, sir.” The nasally voice indicated the red haired man did indeed have a broken nose.
“Cloud Strife,” it came out surprisingly quiet. Zack almost didn’t catch it. He turned to look the second speaker up and down. Zack was surprised to see that Strife was actually quite a bit younger than Jackson, but he had clearly held his own against the larger, and older cadet. He raised a questioning eye at him, only to be met by a scowl as the kid looked away.
The elevator dinged as it reached the cadet barracks. The doors slid open to a bustling hall as men made their way to their own barracks before dinner. The crowd parted for the SOLDIER, making it a short walk to Hayes’ room. Each Platoon leader got their own private room just off the main barracks. Granted, room was a rather generous term. Closet more like, Zack thought as he approached the open door.
“What can I do you for, sir?” Hayes spoke up from the magazine he was browsing through on his bunk. His drawl thick and slow as he addressed Zack. No salute was offered.
“These two had a fight up by the training rooms,” the Second Class stepped aside and jerked a thumb back at the cadets behind him. “Seems like you’ve had a lot of those recently. Trying to make it a habit?” Zack’s voice was pleasant enough, but he was clearly unimpressed.
“What can I say? Boys will be boys,” Hayes chuckled. “‘Sides, builds character!” Zack frowned, he wanted to remind Hayes that they were supposed to be men . “I’ll take it from here, Fair… sir.” He added after a pause.
The Second Class glanced at Jackson and Strife one more time before he turned on his heel, and left for his own floor. He wanted to be done with Hayes bullshit as soon as possible. Once the elevator closed behind him, Zack couldn’t help but grin. Damn kid can hold his own. It reminded Zack a little of himself.
//
“I expect you know my rules of fighting amongst yourselves,” Hayes started slowly. He continued to flip through his magazine, uninterested.
“Yes, sir.” Came the response in unison. Cloud and Jackson both stood at attention. Don’t get fucking caught went unsaid.
“Then see to it that this does not interfere with my time again,” Hayes waved them off without looking up.
Cloud immediately turned and made for the barrack doors. He threw them open and stormed to his bunk, climbing up the ladder quickly. He made no effort to conceal his frustration.
“The fuck’s that about?” Cloud peered down at his bunk mate, a tall but lanky man with sandy blonde hair and green eyes.
Cloud sighed, but replied. “Got into a fight.” He rolled onto his back, muttering to himself in Nibellen.
“What’s new?” The bunkmate, Miller, scoffed.
The blond shrugged, knowing Miller couldn’t see it. It really wasn’t new. Something about the evaluating look the Second Class had given him in the elevator had made him irritated though. He didn’t like to be judged so quickly. It just led to incorrect assumptions.
Just like back home.
The other man dropped the conversation, walking towards the doors instead. Most of the others in the barracks followed, all headed to dinner.
Cloud thought back to the fight, how it started. He frowned as he couldn’t remember exactly what Jackson had said. The blond was pretty sure it had something to do with his slim build. Didn’t really matter, it had Cloud throwing himself at the taller man before he really knew what he was doing. After dwelling on the evening’s events, Cloud felt himself calming down a little. He winced as his cheek began to throb, and his knuckles stung. He hadn’t really wanted to fight, he just couldn’t help it. With a sigh, he made his way down the bunk ladder, and headed out the doors towards the mess hall.
Dinner was a thoroughly unimpressive affair, the food was lousy, and the other cadets were loud. Cloud sat down from a large group of men from his platoon. He held ice to his cheek, and took a few bites of food as he ‘listened in’ on their rather loud conversation.
“I think Angeal would be the best to serve under, he’s easily the most venerable and level headed.” The unfamiliar word had Cloud frowning, his eyebrows pulled together.
“Yeah, but Sephiroth is the Demon of Wutai! He’s the best! Why wouldn’t you want to work with him?”
The man who spoke first just shrugged before responding. “He seems… I don’t know, distant, you feel? Besides, talk about a shitton of pressure. You don’t want to be the one to hold him back.”
Another chimed in, “What about Fair? No doubt he’ll be a First soon enough. He’s real easy to get along with too. He’s down here with us grunts more often than not,” At this, the others seemed to nod in agreement. Cloud, however, scowled to himself at the mention of the Second.
He should mind his own damn business. Cloud paused. The man was just doing his job when he stepped in . Plus, he didn’t say anything about writing the men up. Cloud supposed he had actually gotten off pretty easy, all things considered. Besides, he didn’t need another citation for fighting, he had several already.
Cloud stood up and cleared his tray, done with the ‘food’ he had been served. He hadn’t always liked his mother’s cooking, but it was certainly better than Shinra’s. There were still a few hours before lights out, and Cloud wanted to make the most of it. He made his way back to the barracks and pulled his books from his locker. He climbed onto his bunk, and opened his Matiera Textbook, then his Nibellen to Standard dictionary. This was going to be a long chapter.
He stopped when he remembered the word he heard in the Mess. Venerable. He frowned again as he flipped through the dictionary trying to find it.
Ven·er·a·ble
adjective: venerable
accorded a great deal of respect, especially because of age, wisdom, or character.
And in Nibellen:
Ehrwürdig
He nodded, understanding finally settling over him.