Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Well," Professor Winsord placed a hand on his temple in disgust. "This is inappropriate."

Professor Winsord, Political Science and Economics teacher of Shinra Private Academy, stared at the graffiti-stained stone wall of his school.

"It's not just inappropriate, Winsord—it's disrespectful." Professor Lodbrok, the school's Art teacher, turned to his friend. "I mean, if you're gonna vandalize private school property, at least be good at it. Like, throw a dragon or a wizard up there. Y'know, class it up a little."

Winsord pressed his fingers into his temples. "That's not what I meant."

"Yeah, the lettering—don't get me started on the lettering. It's just awful. I mean, come on! I get that bubble letters are difficult, but at least try, you know? Look, see at the top? They clearly wanted to write 'SHINRA SUXS,' but they smashed the R in like they almost forgot! Honestly, I'm embarrassed for them."

Winsord sighed. "I was referring to the genitalia!" Winsord pointed underneath the crude messages where the spray-painted interpretations of male and female anatomy were displayed.

"Oh right, yeah." Lodbrok paused. "We should cover this up, maybe get a tarp."

Sephiroth stared angrily at the vandalized outer wall of Shinra Private Academy. Most of the graffiti had been hastily covered up by a blue tarp, but it wasn't big enough to cover the profanity-laced tirade against his private school.

"Glaring at it isn't going to make it go away." Angeal teased his friend as he moved to stand beside him. "It's nothing to get upset over—just people being stupid, that's all."

"It's unacceptable, that's what it is!" Sephiroth spoke with determination while he clenched his fist with rage. "Vandalizing private property is completely unacceptable! Midgar Seventh has gone too far this time!"

"It's just graffiti." Angeal tried to calm the vice president down. "It will come out with a bit of soap, water, and hard work."

"For months, this rivalry between us and Midgar Seventh High School has been going on, but now property is being vandalized. As the vice president of the student body, I will not stand for this behavior."

"Aren't you the one who told me that a student council led by their emotions is second-rate?" Angeal countered while he observed his friend, noticing that the usually calm and practical vice-president was becoming emotional.

"It's..." Sephiroth paused and knew that his best friend and Student President was right. He took a deep breath and collected himself. "You're right, which is why I'm going to do something about this."

"You mean, you're going to help me clean off the graffiti because we are role models for the rest of the student body?"

"Well... yes, but I am also going to fill out a complaint and hand it to the Midgar Seventh Student Council."

"You're joking." Angeal paused, and his eyes widened at the revelation. "Wait, you never joke. You think that will work?"

"It will. Once their Student Council is made aware of what happened, I know they will agree this has gotten out of hand, quickly apologize, then make sure this won't happen again."

Angeal stared at his friend. His classmate was too naïve and sheltered. But he also knew that once Sephiroth set his mind to do something, there was no stopping him. He shrugged and decided that it was better to let him figure out how the real world worked. Angeal would be there to pick his friend up once reality knocked him to the ground.

"Very well then, but first we need to clean this mess up."

Sephiroth smiled at his friend. "Of course, a vice president never runs from hard work." He grabbed the side of the tarp and pulled it down. Both Angeal's and Sephiroth's faces turned crimson at the provocative display.

"Oh," Angeal finally replied. "We should clean this before anyone else sees it."

Midgar Seventh High School resided in the dilapidated industrial part of Midgar City. Boarded-up tenants and abandoned factories pockmarked the narrow streets like broken teeth, their windows either shattered completely or covered with sheets of metal spray painted with territorial tags. Half eroded chain length fences closed off empty lots and impromptu scrapyards filled with rusted car parts, twisted lengths of rebar and hollowed out shells of machines. The alleys reeked of motor oil and stagnant water, while bags of trash festered in the darkness. Above, steel and wooden beams made makeshift bridges between the rooftops for those brave enough to traverse this part of town.

On the roof of a worn-down abandoned building, the self-proclaimed street gang of Midgar Seventh held court. Three teenagers barely made a gang, but what they lacked in numbers they made up for in passion. Their leader, a girl named Aerith Gainsborough, stared down her two disciples. She was an intimidating young woman. White drawings covered her black winter uniform; she had modified the top into a crop top, showing off her midriff in clear school uniform violation. Her long wavy brown hair was tied back with a red string that held a white flower. Her mouth was covered with a black face mask with demon-like fangs sketched into it. In her left hand she held a wooden bo staff, a longer and thinner weapon than her friend’s bats, but just as dangerous."You idiot!" Aerith yelled as she slammed her fist down onto Zack's shoulder.

"Ow! Hey, what gives?" Zack cried out, rubbing his shoulder.

"What gives? Don't give me that crap! You and Cloud tagged Shinra Academy!" Aerith roared back while standing on the tips of her toes to stare him down.

"How can you be so sure it was us?" Zack replied as he took a step back.

"Yeah," Cloud, Zack's blonde-haired sidekick, piped up. "There's plenty of people who have reason to deface that school!"

Aerith turned her phone to show both of her delinquent friends the picture she had been looking at. "Because you idiots tagged your fucking names and our school!"

Zack held up his hands in defense. "Well, I thought it was cool."

Aerith crossed her arms and huffed. "This is why you got held back this year."

"Why are you complaining? You hate those snobs at Shinra Academy as much as we do." Cloud said, trying to defuse the situation.

"I do hate those jerks. But now, every prick in a polo shirt will be coming down here to fight us for revenge." Aerith grunted, thinking of the trouble this would cause.

"Good!" cried Zack. "I've been waiting for the chance to clobber those privileged little snots."

"Those privileged little snots outnumber us," replied Aerith as she crossed her arms in annoyance. "I WAS planning on recruiting more members and taking over more territory. But now, I don't have the chance."

"We don't need them." Zack thrust his fist into his palm. "You've got me and Cloud. Once I beat up those Shinra punks, I'll be Top Brawler."

"You think knocking over a bunch of rich kids who don't know how to fight will make you Top Brawler?" Aerith asked, cocking an eyebrow at the young man she considered her second in command.

"Rich kids talk a lot—word will spread that there is a demon in the Midgar slums!"

"Speaking of which," Cloud interjected, "here comes one now."

Aerith looked up from her perch and spotted the Shinra white and gray uniform as the Shinra Private Academy student marched obliviously toward them. Aerith narrowed her eyes to get a better look—he was tall, slim with short white hair. He looked out of place with his clean suit and the slim duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He was also alone; that was foolish. He clearly had no idea about the dangers he would face in the slums. Perhaps he was just passing through or lost and wasn't looking for a fight. They could just shake him down for his pocket money, haze him a little, then send him on his way.

Before Aerith could decide what to do with him, Zack and Cloud jumped down from their hiding place to confront the lone Shinra student.

"Well, it looks like we got a lost student." Zack sneered as he brandished his bat.

"Better be careful—wouldn't want to get that pristine uniform stained!" Cloud baited him, as they had practiced.

Aerith rolled her eyes, annoyed that Zack and Cloud had made the first move, upstaging her.  She wrapped the mask around her mouth and stood up, standing high above the three boys and making her presence known.

"This is our street." Aerith called out, her staff brandished in her arms. "You aren't welcome here, pretty boy!" Aerith grimaced under her mask—she had wanted to think of a better name to call him, but "pretty boy" was all she could think up on short notice.

"I'm not here to fight you.” Sephiroth spoke calmly as he watched the two teenage boys move closer.  “I'm just on my way to Midgar Seventh. I have a letter for their student council."

"What a coincidence—we are the student council." Zack teased as he moved closer to the sharply dressed student. "We will gladly take your letter along with the money in your pockets."

"I doubt that." Sephiroth stood his ground, but wished he could have come up with a better comeback.

"Enough!" Aerith called out, demanding to take charge of the situation. She pointed her staff at the boy from Shinra Academy. "Either you run away or get the crap beat out of you."

"I wasn't raised to run away," Sephiroth said calmly as he unzipped the top of the duffel bag he was holding, then pulled out the wooden bokken sword he had been carrying.

"I don't want to fight you." Sephiroth held the bokken tightly and dropped into a fighting stance. "But if I have to defend myself, I will."

Cloud and Zack laughed loudly, brandishing their baseball bats.

"Just like we practiced, Cloud—this will be easy." Zack rallied his friend as they advanced.

Cloud rushed forward with his bat raised up like a sword. His attack was loud and brazen, just like they had practiced—he would keep the Shinra student busy while Zack got the drop on him.

Sephiroth, being the 7th dan of his Kendo club, was unphased by Cloud's brash attack. He noticed the blonde-haired boy's grip was off and swiftly blocked the attack, the impact making the bat slip from his attacker's hands. Before Cloud realized what was happening, Sephiroth bonked him upside the head with his wooden sword, sending the young boy retreating in confusion.

Zack rushed forward as Cloud fell back, attacking with more experience and aggression. He flung himself at Sephiroth with a flurry of strikes with his bat, determined to take down the Shinra Academy student. Sephiroth managed to block Zack's well-executed attacks at the cost of having to take several steps back from the assault. However, Zack's attacks became predictable, and Sephiroth managed to parry his next attack. The sudden block shocked Zack and left him wide open for a follow-up attack. Sephiroth stabbed his bokken into Zack's collar, jabbing his shoulder.

Zack cried out in pain as the wooden point had hit a joint. Sephiroth followed up with another attack, slapping the side of his ribs. The pain was too much for the black-haired brawler—no longer able to defend himself, he had to retreat.

That would have been the end of the fight with Sephiroth's triumph, except she descended into the fray.

Sephiroth was dumbfounded as he stared up into the sky and watched the brown-haired girl glide down toward him. He imagined her as an angel—dark-haired and beautiful, falling from heaven. At the last second he noticed that his angel's staff was aiming at his head. Sephiroth brought up his sword to block just in time as she crashed down on him. Their faces were less than an inch apart, with his sword and her staff locked together between them. Sephiroth stared into her green eyes—how could someone with such beautiful eyes be so violent, he thought.

His daydreaming came to an end as she pushed herself away and wheeled her staff around over her head to strike him. Sephiroth managed to block her attack; however, she had already spun her staff around to strike him with the other end. He managed to block that attack as well, but only barely—she was clearly more experienced than the other two.

Within seconds she was overwhelming him. Her attacks seemed to come from every direction, and when he was able to strike out, she dodged away and counterattacked. It didn't help that he was distracted by the way her hair floated in the air as she moved. He had never seen a girl like her before, there was a fierceness about her, yet she looked so delicate. A true warrior maiden, he thought as he struggled to keep his mind on the battle at hand.

Aerith swiftly maneuvered past Sephiroth's defense, and her staff struck his thigh. He held back a grunt of pain but stood his ground and attempted a slash. Aerith dodged his attack, and in a moment their eyes met. Time seemed to slow as Sephiroth stared back into the most beautiful pair of eyes he had ever seen. The moment ended with the end of her staff twirling around her head and smashing into his right eye.

Sephiroth cried out as he was knocked off his feet. He dropped his bokken and clutched his eye, writhing in pain. Aerith gasped in surprise—it had been an accident. She hadn't meant to hit him there. She had aimed at his head and was hoping to just knock him on his ass so he would run away. Now he might lose that eye. She wanted to ask him if he was all right, but Zack rushed in front of her toward the Shinra student.

Zack climbed on top of Sephiroth and began to pound his fists into his face. Sephiroth tried to protect his face with his hands but could no longer fight back. A cruel glare filled Zack's eyes as he continued to pound his leather-clad fists into Sephiroth's smooth face.

"That's enough, Zack." Aerith cried out. But Zack continued to beat the now defenseless student.

"I said that's enough, Zack!" Aerith screamed out as she grabbed hold of Zack's shoulders and pulled him from his victim.

Blood dripped from Sephiroth's nose, staining his neck and suit. He kept a hand on his bruised face as he stared back at his attackers. The fascination he had for Aerith had been replaced with rage. Silently he pushed himself away from his attackers, got to his feet, and ran away.

"Why the hell did you do that!" Zack yelled as he brushed Aerith off his shoulders.

"You stupid idiot, you went too far!" Aerith stared him down and pressed her knuckles into her hips.

"So what?" Zack responded as he found his bat.

"He couldn't fight back anymore. You could have really hurt him."

"Yeah," Zack paused as he stared back at Aerith, defiance in his words. "Well, you were too busy playing with him. I... I put him in his place!"

"I don't know, Zack—that was going a bit too far." Cloud replied, still touching the bump on his head.

"You've got some nerve to talk—one hit and you're out? Where were you?" Zack replied.

"I was keeping an eye out for 5-0," Cloud replied slowly. As if on cue, a police siren rang out from down the street.

"Cops!" Aerith cried out. She grabbed Zack by the collar of his jacket, making him look at her. "We will talk about this later. Now scatter!"

Aerith dashed away to an alley as Zack and Cloud went their own ways. A metal stairwell was waiting to propel her up the side of the building. By the time the police had marched down their street, Aerith was blocks away. She stopped on a rooftop when she knew she was safe and alone. She looked down the street from whence the white-haired Shinra student had come. Aerith wondered if he was all right—a part of her wanted to apologize and tell him she hadn't meant to hurt him that much. She knew she would never get that chance; he probably hated her now. It would be easy enough for him to escape back into his life of privilege and never deal with her likes ever again.

Aerith sighed as she sank down on the roof. This was her place. She was a street thug and would never be anything else, could never be anything else in this city. The life that privileged pretty boy lived was as good as a fairy tale in her world.

She didn't have time to dream—Zack was starting to get out of hand. If she didn't put him in her place, he would take over. Where would that put her, would she become his prize, his trophy? Not on her life. Aerith had worked and fought too hard to be put on a shelf. They called her the big boss and she wasn’t about to lose that title to a stupid boy.

Chapter Text

The police picked up Sephiroth and took him to the nearest emergency room. The doctors told him there was no damage to his eye, though it was swollen enough to become a black eye. Unfortunately, his nose was broken, but the break was clean, which made it easier to set and promised a faster recovery. Overall, he was lucky, according to the nurses and the police officers who took his statement. His bruises would heal in a few days; his nose, in about a week. After a few hours of attending to his wounds, setting his nose, and patching his eye, he was ready to be discharged.

Embarrassingly, he had to tell the staff that there was no family to pick him up; his parents worked outside the city, and he lived alone. The hospital had policies in place for scenarios when parents were unable to pick up their children. Because Sephiroth was enrolled in an elite private academy, they called one of the teachers to pick up their wayward student, much to Sephiroth’s misery.

Half an hour later, Sephiroth watched with horror as the one teacher he didn’t want to see that evening strolled through the emergency room’s double doors. It was his irresponsible art teacher and self-proclaimed soccer coach, Professor Lodbrok. A man so ill-equipped to be a schoolteacher, he demanded his students call him coach when he didn’t coach any sports at the school. Sephiroth would have given up his soul for another teacher to come pick him up. He would gladly take the scolding of Professor Winsord or Lin over the inane ramblings of Lodbrok.

“Whoa, Sephiroth. You okay? Lodbrok asked as he barged into Sephiroth’s examining room. “You look like you lost a fight with a vending machine.”

“I’m fine, Professor Lodbroke.” Sephiroth’s words were nasal from the splint that covered most of his nose.

“You got all your teeth?”

“Yes, sir.”

“All right, good. Now they said I need to fill out some paperwork before I can take you home. I don’t know what that’s about—I’ve never done this before, as you can tell. But I’ll try and finagle some pain meds out of the nurse for you. Okay?”

“Okay Professor.”

“Call me Coach. This qualifies as life coaching, so from now on it’s Coach Lodbrok. Got it?”

“Got it Coach.”

Coach Lodbrok failed to obtain extra pain medication or the dispatch nurse’s phone number. He completed the release paperwork to take his student home. He then escorted the humiliated teenager back to his sedan.

“So—you got into a fight?” Lodbrok asked as he started the engine.

“Yes I did, Coach.”

“And judging by your face, I take it you lost.”

“Correct, Coach.”

“Of course you lost. Do you know why, Sephiroth?”

“Why is that Coach?”

“Because fighting is wrong, Sephiroth. Once you start a fight, you’ve already lost. You understand me?”

“I understand, Coach.”

“Good. Now, I know you’re a teenager, which means your entire purpose is to make bad decisions. I get it, I was a teenager once, too. I’ve made my fair share of bad decisions. In fact, I continue to make bad decisions, which is why I’m now driving a latchkey child home from the hospital. Anyway, I’m not going to report this to the administration. The way I see it, you’ll suffer enough walking around with that shiner on your face.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the rest of the ride.

Two days later, Sephrioth returned to school only to learn that everyone already knew he had lost a fight with a Midgar Seventh School gang. Equal parts humiliation and dread filled him as students lined up to offer their condolences or swear vengeance on his behalf. Then, he had to endure a stern lecture from every one of his professors for his behavior. The exception was “Coach” Lodbrok, who believed that their uncomfortable car ride and talk had been punishment enough.

The mood at the school seemed to have shifted; the rivalry between the two schools had been well documented. It appeared his beating had lit a fire under the student body. Everyone seemed to want a chance to march down to the public school and demand justice for their wounded vice president. Justice that Sephiroth didn’t want or need, he didn’t like the rest of the school getting involved in his affairs. The added attention only deepened his embarrassment; he wished to crawl under a rock until the end of the school year.

But before he could hide his shame, Sephiroth still had a Student Council meeting to attend after school. Which very might be his last.

When Sephiroth entered the council room, Angeal was already sitting behind his desk waiting for him. Angeal and Sephiroth were currently the only members of the Student Council. While Sephiroth believed they were understaffed, Angeal had yet to recruit more members. Angeal thought they were an excellent team handling the bureaucracy and paperwork that separated the many different academy clubs. Adding more members would upset that delicate balance, or so Angeal believed.

Sephiroth remained silent as he approached Angeal’s desk and placed a sheet of paper filled with his handwriting down on the president’s desk.

“What is this?” Angeal asked softly.

“It’s my resignation,” Sephiroth said calmly. “I have failed to uphold the duties and responsibilities of the vice president. Therefore, I am immediately resigning from the student council.”

Angeal picked up the paper, scanned it before setting it back down, and looked back at Sephiroth. “I refuse.”

“Mr. President!” Sephiroth slammed his hands on Angeal’s desk, finally letting out the emotions he had been holding back. “You cannot allow our friendship to cloud your judgment. I have broken the sacred trust of the Student Council. I have no right to serve on your board.”

“You can just call me Angeal, Sephiroth. We are friends, after all.” Angeal said as he stood up and walked toward his friend. “I haven’t seen you since you marched off to that school three days ago. Now you’ve come back with a black eye and an injured nose. So why don’t you tell me what happened that made you want to resign?”

Sephiroth told him how the gang intercepted him before he reached the school. How he had been humiliated, defeated, and sent to the emergency room. Angeal listened and nodded, keeping his comments until Sephiroth finished.

“So you acted in self-defense?”

Sephiroth paused. “Yes. I told them I didn’t want to fight.”

“And they attacked you first?”

“Correct.”

Angeal placed an index finger against his cheek, thinking. “If my memory of the Student Council bylaws is correct, which it is, self-defense falls within acceptable behavior for council members. Therefore, I see no reason you should resign.”

Angeal took Sephiroth’s resignation and ripped it in half.

“But—” Sephiroth stared at the ground in shame. Despite his friend’s words, he still felt guilty.

“Sephiroth.” Angeal sighed as he sat back down behind his desk. “Everyone makes mistakes, even Student Council members. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself for what happened. Now, would you like to keep arguing, or go over this year’s budget request?”

Sephiroth’s face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. There was nothing more he wanted that afternoon than to do Student Council work with his dear friend.  For several glorious hours, Sephiroth pored over budget request forms and balanced figures with his colleague. He lost himself in high school bureaucracy and the triple paperwork required to fund the many clubs and activities the students of Shinra Private Academy came to enjoy.

It was dark when Sephiroth finally got home. With his parents gone, there was no one to ask how his day had gone or to prepare his dinner. He microwaved a bowl of instant noodles for dinner while changing out of his uniform. He ate quietly, having grown accustomed to the silently lonely house. He didn’t mind being alone; he enjoyed the independence most students his age didn’t have. No parents to ask him about his grades, no siblings to bother him. No threats of arguments that he would have to drown out before falling asleep.

There was one last thing he had to do before the day ended. He dressed in his kendo uniform, grabbed his bokken, and stepped into the backyard. Under the moonlight, he meticulously practiced every stance and drill he had been taught. As he practiced, in his mind’s eye he pictured the girl who had beaten him. He remembered her bright green eyes flashing with anger and how she had descended like an angel with her brown hair waving in the wind. She was better than him, more skilled, more experienced and Sephiroth had the bruises to prove it.

The pain and humiliation of his defeat drove him to be better, faster, stronger, until he could defeat her. He reminded himself that despite her beauty, she was no angel. She had struck him in an unsportsmanlike manner, and once he was down, her flunkies had jumped on him. Such barbarism went against everything he believed as vice president of the Student Council.  Sephiroth only ended his training when he was too exhausted to continue. He had lost track of time but knew it was now late at night.

“Forgive me, Angeal,” He panted, while putting away his bokken. “A member of the Student Council shouldn’t seek revenge.”

“However.” He first shook as he clenched it in rage. “I can’t get her out of my head. I can’t stop thinking about her, no matter how hard I try. I will find her, and I will defeat her, and that will be the end of this. I swear it.”