Paper Tiger Burning

I respectfully credit all Original Creators, namely Squaresoft, which became SquareEnix,for these characters. In this way, I pay homage to my Fandom's Original Creator, and illustrate my Community's belief that Fan Fiction is "fair use". I do not claim to own these characters. I do not make money or gil from using these protected characters, nor do I wish to make money or gil from them. In other words, I am borrowing these characters to entertain the adult fanfiction community, but I am doing so with the highest degree of respect to the engineers, game designers, music makers, and voice actors.



I finished the final child and washed my hands, exhausted. Motioning Sephiroth’s secretary closer, I shut his camera off. “I’m going to check on Sephiroth and Hojo,” I said. They’d been in there nearly two hours. I really worried about them and I hoped to not run into any more obstacles to the shower room. “We’ll take the helicopter at the back entrance, so you can tell the Turks to start doing the full evacuation sweep now.”

“Okay, Miss Aerith,” Eldon said, patting his camera. He’d taken a lot of footage of the sickbay and the pitiable children. “We’ve got enough recordings to bury Shin-Ra now and maybe ourselves too.” He gave me a polite nod. “I expect there will be Turks and medical crew here awhile yet, so if you need anything we’ll be close.”

“Thanks, Eldon,” I said, giving him a brief but heartfelt hug. “See you later.”

I gathered myself as he left me. I didn’t know what I would find in the decontamination room.

Quietly and slowly, I opened the door. Hojo and Sephiroth sat together on the floor, wet. A score of candy wrappers littered the tile around them.

I knew the instant Sephiroth met my eyes that he’d reverted. That pure, almost naive quality I saw in him every so often had grown to obliterate his adult identity. He’d done too much today, taken on too many hard issues with his past. Jenova’s attack had weakened him further. This shower room must have been the final straw, a familiarity right on par with children in cells.

I could help him, mercifully. How ironic that Sephiroth, weeks ago, had been the one to remind me I could help the mentally ill.

My eyes next moved to Hojo. The man returned my stare, red-rimmed and miserable. Horrible for him that he had to sit and relieve his guilt in this way; he had to see himself through Sephiroth’s eyes. But he sat there strong, bearing his responsibility with stoic determination. His back, straight and rigid, betrayed just how hard this was for him.

“You look a lot like the girl I sometimes watch in the playroom,” Sephiroth said. Even his voice had lightened, becoming more childlike. His open, innocent eyes traced my body without the slightest spark of lust. “She has long, pretty hair too, and likes the color pink,” he went on. “But you aren’t wearing pink. I’m glad because I hate that color.”

Smiling, I sat down cross-legged just in front of him. He spoke of me. I could remember this too, now. He’d silently watched, the older boy with ragged silver hair, never speaking but blocking the rougher play of other children from ever reaching me. If we had only known where we would end up…

“I’m Aerith,” I said, holding out my hand. “If you’ll just touch me, I can make you feel better.” I hoped I had the strength for this.

Sephiroth’s eyes slid sideways. “Professor Hojo doesn’t like it when I touch,” he told me. “I don’t know my own strength sometimes.” He shrugged. “Besides, I don’t feel bad.”

“Then I’ll just hold your hand, okay?” I said. “Professor Hojo doesn’t care, do you, Professor?”

“No, do as you will,” the scientist sighed. “Sephiroth, she’s safe to touch; I swear you will not be in trouble for the contact. You may not feel bad, but you are indeed injured right now. Aerith can help.”

Slowly, Sephiroth reached for my hand. “I’ll hurt her, like I do everyone,” he said in a small voice.

At ten years old he already had strength and ability far beyond a normal adult man. He knew this and worried he’d accidentally harm me. I marveled at his self-awareness, his resolve. And yes, he could easily hurt me. He was much stronger than even he realized, being a child in an adult’s body.

He stopped moving just before our hands touched. Spreading his fingers, he looked at his own hands. His eyes quickly coasted over his own body, then Hojo’s. “I’m big,” he said. The slightest tremble shook him. Locking eyes with his maker, he released a long breath. “Did you make me big?”

His tone told me he fully believed Hojo could do anything he wished.

“No, son,” Hojo said in a tired voice. “You grew up. Right now you’re just having a little memory lapse. But Aerith can fix that.”

Sephiroth looked back at me. “So, you are the girl in the playroom,” he announced, smiling slightly. “We must be friends now.”

I couldn’t help but grin. He had such optimism at this age, such hope. He accepted that he was sick and just went with it. This kind of adaptability was a gift. And he still evolved; I’d seen him come a very long way in a very short time.

“Yes, very good friends,” I confirmed. “The three of us are friends.” I took his damp hand, pressing it over my heart. “Now, just relax. I’m going to help you remember.”

Delving into Sephiroth’s mind made the air rush from my body. His thoughts were complicated, intricate, but shaken. It was as if his brain had just turned over, upsetting his orderly system. Pain lurked in here too, pain to rival any I’d experienced with Hojo. Pain had to be taken care of first. I slid into the collections of agonies, settling them into their normal places.

“You’re so cool,” he murmured. “You even make my head feel cool.” With the instinct of survival, he seized upon my healing and held on.

He drained me terribly. Already weakened, I struggled to keep up. This had happened to me before, when much younger. My childish identity couldn’t assimilate or blanket adult pain. Though I now had an adult’s skill, my experience didn’t match his; he’d seen and felt so much as to dwarf me.

By the Planet, he was strong, unbelievably self-possessed and willful. I touched his indomitable spirit, feeling that part of him which never surrendered to death. This strength brought him back from oblivion again and again, but it threatened to overwhelm me. Like a vortex, he pulled me inside of him. Blindly, I reached out and grabbed Hojo. “Help me,” I urged.

“What do you want me to do, Cetra?” Hojo asked wearily, taking my hand.

“Just sit there and think of your son,” I answered. “Think of him happy and well.” Hojo would provide a physical reminder of where I was, not allow me to just fall into Sephiroth’s mind to be lost.

Hojo obliged. I let down my shield and took in his power.

Sephiroth’s identity began to reform, categorize and neaten. I held on to both men tightly, forming a double path of positive power. A few of Sephiroth’s shaken memories filtered down into their proper places, but…

But I was just too tired. All the energy I’d poured into those deprived children and my fight with Jenova left me so drained I couldn’t help the man I loved. In fact, if I didn’t pull away from him he’d suck me down into his identity, and from there I would meet oblivion.

I let go.

Barely able to hold my head up, I looked into Sephiroth’s puzzled, watchful eyes. “I’m too weak to help you right now,” I confessed. “It will have to wait awhile.” I felt terrible that I couldn’t help him yet, absolutely terrible. At least his life wasn’t in danger.

Sephiroth’s lips curled into an innocent, patient smile. “That’s alright,” he told me, shrugging slightly. “I’m very good at waiting for things.”

“He is, at that,” Hojo agreed. He stood, helping me to stand as well. “Let’s return to your apartment, Cetra,” he said, his tone brisk but not unkind.

Sephiroth watched us get up but made no move arise from the tile. His blue-green eyes studied us curiously. I realized he thought we would go without him. He didn’t expect to leave the place, mistaking it for the lab he’d grown up in.

Hojo hesitated a moment. Then, he knelt beside Sephiroth again. “Sephiroth,” he said, his tone gentle. “You are going with us.”

“I am?” Sephiroth’s eyes widened.

“Yes,” Hojo answered. “But I want to tell you something about where,” he cautioned. “There is a place outside of this lab that is bigger than anything you’ve ever seen. I want you to be ready for that. Don’t be afraid because it’s new; it won’t hurt you that you can’t see walls and a ceiling, or even a floor.”

“He’s never been outside?” I drew back in horror.

“He was fourteen before I brought him out,” Hojo answered quietly, his eyes filling with shame. “He didn’t take it well.” He straightened, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Sephiroth got up. “So I’m an adult now,” he said, staring down at us both in wonder, obviously surprised he towered over us both. “It bothers me that I don’t remember growing up.” His eyes scanned Hojo slowly. “I promised myself when I was big that I’d beat you up.” He paused, tilting his head to one side. “But I’d have to be angry, and I’m not angry right now.”

The cold way he announced his innermost thoughts proved his danger. I shivered. If Sephiroth got mad and attacked the way a child did, he wouldn’t pull his punches. He’d kill his father in one hit. “Please try not to beat him up,” I asked, grabbing Hojo’s hand. “He’s going to take care of you and me for a little while. We need him.”

Sephiroth’s eyes, though acquiescing, were not at all passive. “He doesn’t take care of me,” he argued softly. “He won’t.” Again Sephiroth paused. “He can’t,” he added, clenching his fists. “I don’t want him to. I don’t know why you want him to take care of you, either; he’s been mean to you too.” He gave his head a little shake, relaxing his hands. “I can take care of you easily, since I’m big.”

I nodded. “Alright,” I answered, accepting his offer. “I’m grateful for your help, Sephiroth.” This situation needed diffused, and fast. “Would you mind if I also wanted Hojo with us? I told you we’d all become friends and I meant it. Even if you can’t remember, it did happen.”

Sephiroth gave me a long, intense look. “I don’t think you’re a liar,” he announced. “You look me in the eyes.” He swung his attention to his father, who already returned his focus. “And he looks me in the eyes now, but he never did. I suppose it’s okay if he goes.”

My strength didn’t hold. I started to sway. Sephiroth braced me quickly. For a bare second I thought he would pick me up, but he shook his head. “No,” he said. “I can’t protect you if I’m carrying you. Hojo will have to carry you.”

Though his mind dwelt in his childhood, he still had the cunning and practicality of a leader.

“But he can’t-.”

“I can.” Hojo picked me up without hesitation. “You’re a tiny thing, Cetra, and I’m not weak anymore.”