Freshly promoted to First Class, a war-worn young Sephiroth is introduced to Rufus Shinra.
Involved Characters: Sephiroth, 15yo ( @ghostofnibelheim ), Rufus ShinRa, 18yo ( @rcdfcxr )
References: Before Crisis -Final Fantasy VII-
Settings: Midgar, December εγλ 1995
The new uniform was uncomfortable.
In truth, the whole situation he was in felt uncomfortable; ironic, for someone who had spent the good part of the past three years inside ditches and flimsy barracks in temporary tents.
When Sephiroth had been approached by unexpected Turks, to be collected and brought back to Midgar stat, the young boy had instantly felt a knot form at the pit of his stomach. Hojo needed him back at the laboratory, he’d immediately thought. More experiments. More tests. Pain and humiliaton the likes of which the war itself had never matched.
That stressful tension, the closest thing to actual fear he’d ever remotely experienced, did not leave him until the chopper had landed and turned off its engines, allowing for the unnamed employee who had greeted him at the heliport to actually debrief him on the reasons behind his summons.
As it turned out, during his extended absence in this city that still felt so foreign to him, he had become a sort of celebrity. His exploits on the frontline had been reported and news had spread beyond the headquarters; the news outlets were crying for a face to be given to the name of the new ‘war hero’.
So that was his reason to be here. Media exposure. The company had decided to make him the poster boy of the SOLDIER program, to use for a new recruitment campaign. The President had already given his signature and the unstoppable machine of propaganda had roared its engines. All what was left now was a formal handshake. Pictures. A ceremony.
“It might feel strange, so suddenly. Take it as a well-earned vacation.”
So the employee had said, but...
While it seemed Hojo would not be involved in the procedure whatsoever - a relief, to the SOLDIER - Sephiroth would be lying if he described this as relaxation.
Urged to the showers and to wear a new uniform, maybe his annoyance with the garments were purely a psychological attempt to escape the stressful brooding over everything else he’d been unwillingly dragged into.
It was true, still. His fifteenth birthday had come and gone, and his adolescent growth spurt had hit him quickly. His shoulders had broadened, lean muscles were quickly gaining prominence in his form, and his boots and trousers seemed to increase in size in a matter of months. His voice had also changed to a more monotone depth that would stay for life. Many struggled to tell his real age already.
The measurements of this uniform were just a little outdated. Not enough for it to be noticeable, but enough for the boy to feel it on his skin. And so, as the doors closed behind him and the elevator brought him up towards the top floors of the company’s headquarters, the sigh that escaped through his nose was a little stiff against the black zip-up vest.
First Class SOLDIER Sephiroth; also the first of his rank. One would wonder why there’d be a class completely vacant of members before. But to him, it meant nothing.
Just another thing he was expected to be. Maybe he could relax a little, knowing that in the grand scheme of things, nothing had really changed.
