FicWad

LBM: So how are you all liking the new story so far? I’m really putting in my best efforts to make this one really good. And any pleasant reviews I may receive help a lot too. :hint hint:

Chapter Two: To Create the Fortress
There must have been 80-something rolled-up blueprints taking up the majority of space on the card table. Kefka had done too good a job in finding a place to start their academy—the building was the size of an average two-story mall. Sephiroth sighed as he started to unroll the blueprint labeled “Kitchen”. He studied it carefully while eyeing on all sides of himself, for he was indeed in the kitchen. Everything seemed to be in order. He checked the paper again. He couldn’t tell if the measurements for the corner for the fridge were off or not. It didn’t seem like it—was the light playing tricks on his eyes? He growled softly. This was all very frustrating, rebuilding a run-down high school and trying to live without fighting or random attempts on his life. Such work was not befitting a general of the ShinRa army. This was boring work. He began to wonder if it would all be worth it, to pass on his skills, his knowledge to a younger generation.

He chuckled quietly. He’d had an apprentice once before, during his year as a SOLDIER First Class. Whenever he didn’t have an assignment, he’d been allowed to go out on his own, and he’d take those times to go train his energetic pupil. She’d been created as a biological weapon, born of a race of destructive alien space pirates and some race of the Negaverse. But she definitely had the perfect mental level for a typical blonde-pigtailed, five-year-old girl that she was. And even after he made SOLDIER General, Sephiroth still trained her up until he met Zack and Cloud, since the girl had found some way to sneak into his quarters at the base. Now what was her name again? Karto? No, that wasn’t it. Maybe it was Kitba? No, not that either.

Snuffing his memories like a candle flame, a clatter brought him back to the run-down kitchen where he saw Kefka beginning to open a cardboard box. He pulled out a tape measure and proceeded to measure the distance from the ceiling to the floor against the recently whitewashed wall. Sephiroth said nothing, though he did wonder what his companion was up to. Kefka looked over his first reading on the measuring tape, frowned, shook his head, and snapped the tape shut before taking it back out and remeasuring again.

“What are you doing?” Sephiroth said coldly, his jade eyes locked onto the measuring tape. Something was up.

“I’m measuring for the wallpaper.” Came the point-blank reply.

“I thought we hired someone to remodel all this.”

“Well, yes. But that’s for the whole kitchen. I just want to do the wallpaper.” Kefka said quietly. Sephiroth looked into his baby-blue eyes and glared daggers.

“Leave it alone.” He hissed before going back to the blueprint. For a while there was silence, during which Kefka sat solemnly next to his box of supplies. He looked at it mournfully. What was so wrong with wanting to help out? It would save the hired help some trouble and besides, he had made his every effort to pick out the very best wallpaper for the kitchen, so why shouldn’t he be allowed to put it up? Well, he wasn’t going to give up so easily. He leaned over and finished opening the cardboard box all the way until he spotted what he was looking for. Moving slowly so as not to alert his silver-haired companion, Kefka pulled out a paint roller, a tray, a large can of wallpaper paste, a pair of rubber All-Purpose household gloves, and the wallpaper itself. First he laid out the wallpaper and admired his choice. It was vertically striped red and yellow, with a top border of midnight blue on which he had taken the liberty of stamping little bats. Yes indeedy, this was the perfect wallpaper! Then, he carefully slipped his hands inside the gloves, attempting to remain quiet. The left glove did make a slight squeak when he got it on, but Sephiroth seemed too intent on figuring the fridge’s corner’s measurements to have noticed. Still, Kefka released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, and then set the paint roller in the tray and pushed them off to the side. Next came the hard part: opening the paste. He had brought a rather big spoon with him to get the lid off, but he wasn’t sure how to open it without making a din of it. He twisted the top a couple of times, but it didn’t budge, leaving him with no choice but to use the spoon. He set it in the niche between the lid and the lip of the can and pushed down on the spoon handle gently. Nothing happened. Cursing inwardly, he pushed a little harder on the spoon. This time the lid lifted a bit, but sank back down almost immediately. Frustrated, Kefka yanked down on the spoon handle, and the lid popped off, landing on the floor with a loud CLANG. Swiveling around, Sephiroth caught sight of the blonde man with his things spread out on the floor, a blush developing under that ghostly white foundation. He managed a weak grin at Sephiroth as he dumped the half of the contents of the paste can into the tray. Sephiroth scowled.

“Kefka, what are you doing?” he said, straining to remain calm and biting back his rising temper.

“I’m just putting up the wallpaper.” He replied meekly, seeming to make himself smaller as he sat there. Then Sephiroth noticed the wallpaper sheet laying out in plain view.

“It’s red and yellow…” he muttered, an appalled look spreading over his angular face.

“Yeah, I know. According to scientific research, red and yellow are the psychological colors that make one feel hungry. So I thought, since this is a kitchen—“ he tried to explain, but he was cut off rapidly.

“Red and black will do fine.” Sephiroth said curtly, and stomped out of the room, most likely to find a restroom and relieve himself. Kefka stared at the empty doorway for a moment, then shrugged. He dipped the paint roller in the paste-filled tray and rolled it a little until the roller was full. Then, starting at the bottom and working his way up, he spread the paste and put up the first section of the paper. Leaning to the right, he refilled the roller and grabbed the next sheet, hoping to get it up before Sephiroth returned. But this didn’t exactly go as was planned. He had the second sheet on halfway when Sephiroth entered, masamune unsheathed.

“KEFKA!” he snarled, and drove the point into the ceiling, gritting his teeth angrily. Kefka gasped at the mistreatment of the kitchen.

“Don’t do that! I just finished putting up all its cutesy-wutesy tiles forty-five minutes ago!” he was absolutely appalled. Sephiroth raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Since when were ceiling tiles ‘cutesy-wutesy’, Kefka?” he asked, half-suspicious. Kefka’s faint blush crept back up his neck, trying to break past his white foundation.

“So what? I only painted some of them. Come on, everyone loves tutu teddy bears!” he shot back, folding his arms over his chest in an attempt to look less ruffled.

“…Kefka. You have four seconds to start running for your life. Starting now.” Sephiroth said stiffly, pulling the blade back out of the ceiling. Eyes widening, Kefka turned and ran from the kitchen, blonde ponytail whipping the sides of his face, and Sephiroth gaining on him. He rounded a corner and nearly tripped over a loose nail in the floorboard, before increasing his speed and making two more turns to the right.

Damn these ridiculously high heels! He whispered to himself, and glanced behind his shoulder. Sephiroth wasn’t there. Gulping, he slowed down and tentatively looked in front down the wide, wide hallway. Sephiroth was running towards him, a grin widening on his face.

“Miss me?” he sneered, borrowing Kefka’s line. Digging his heels into the floor, Kefka skidded to a halt. Sephiroth slowed too, but at his own pace, so as to teasingly wave the tip of his masamune in front of Kefka’s bright face.

“What’s your damage? It’s just a few modifications!” he yelped, taking a step back. Sephiroth’s grin was replaced with a leer.

“I said let the crew we hired take care of it.” He shot back, thrusting the sword tip under his companion’s chin. A tiny drop of blood welled up on the spot.

“The building crew?” Kefka mused, staring past Sephiroth.

“Yes, and then you had to go and get out your silly little—“

“And the deliverymen?” he finished, blinking several times. Sephiroth stopped at the phrase, and slowly lowered his sword and turned around to look at the front door. It was open for God only knows why, and on the other side of the screen door stood five men in overalls, t-shirts, and boots, carrying toolboxes, sandpaper, etc. and giving the two of them wide-eyed skeptical looks. Behind them were three more men, all in uniforms with tags that read Sears, trying to look past the building crew to see who was inside. Going very red in the face, Sephiroth sheathed his masamune and opened the screen door, letting the crew in first.

“I’m terribly sorry. My er, partner and I were having a misunderstanding.” He said quickly, hoping they’d buy a half-truth. They seemed to, but they didn’t give off the impression of wanting to stay to close to a longsword, so they merely asked for directions to the bathrooms, which they said they were going to start on. After getting them, the five men hurried on, and this left Kefka and Sephiroth to deal with the deliverymen.

“Let’s see, we have an order here for a Mr. Roth and a Mr. Palazzo.” The stocky one mumbled, his eyes never leaving the list on his mini clipboard.

“That’s us.” Sephiroth confirmed as he took the man’s second clipboard to fill out a receipt form, though his nose had wrinkled noticeably at the false name ‘Mr. Roth’. One of the younger, more powerfully built men was dragging a large, plastic-wrapped mattress and an oblong cardboard box, and the other was dragging a smaller mattress with a thicker box.

“We have the order for one queen-sized mattress with a mahogany headpiece for the frame.” He explained. Kefka’s eyes lit up and he spoke for the first time since pointing out the visitors.

“OOOOHH! That one’s mine. Here, I’ll show you where it needs to go.” He squealed with delight, and proceeded to lead the boy to the room he’d picked out as his own. (Fact of the matter was, they were only capable of converting four of the rooms into bedrooms and Kefka had picked his out already, since it had one of the eighteen bathrooms as an attachment and a spacious walk-in closet. Sephiroth had decided to take the room next to it, as a means of making sure Kefka didn’t cause too much mayhem.)

“And we have a king-sized mattress with a regular frame.” The first boy muttered, handing the narrow, oblong box to Sephiroth long enough to show him. Sephiroth nodded, handed the clipboard back to the stocky man, and led the other Sears boy in the same direction as Kefka had led the first. They passed by one of the bathrooms, in which two of the building men sat, smoking some cigarettes. Sephiroth stopped and turned to the men, drawing his sword again.

“If the two of you don’t stop that crap now and get to work, I swear I will curse your families for seven generations.” He snarled, startling the two of them so bad their cigarettes fell from their mouths to the crotches of their overalls. Snorting his satisfaction, Sephiroth resumed leading the young man and after a staircase and some more turns, they reached his room. The boy sat the packages down and joined his companion in the hall, and they left, both looking slightly mortified.

Kefka had found out quickly how to assemble his bedframe and put it together lightheartedly, set the mattress on it and went through his moving box labeled “Bed Clothes” until he found the bed sheets and comforter he wanted before moving in the direction of unpacking his mountains of stuffed animals and pillows.

Sephiroth had been used to sleeping in inn beds or a cot, so assembling a bed was only slightly new to him, but he was a quick study and had his frame set up correctly with the mattress on it almost at the same time as Kefka. All of his bed sheets though, were black and his comforter gray. He had three pillows too, as opposed to Kefka’s seven; so needless to say, his bed was ready before Kefka’s was.

They both started in on the electronics after that. Sephiroth’s radio was thrown aside for a moment until he recovered his nightstand and set it up. He didn’t have much other than that, save for an electric razor and a medium sized television that had to take up residence on the blue carpeted floor until Sephiroth could recover his missing entertainment system. Kefka had a radio/CD player boom box with a bit of a temperment If someone hit it too hard, it would make a whining noise and switch to the function opposite of what it was currently doing. So, he hooked the speakers up on opposite walls and the rest of it attached to the TV set and DVD player he’d mounted on the wall across from his bed. He stood back to admire his work for a minute before setting to work inside his walk-in closet. Meanwhile, Sephiroth mounted his masamune in its sheath on his wall above his bed and set up his dresser. A lot of the SOLDIERS beneath him thought it strange that their General should own such a “girly” piece of furniture, but after voicing these thoughts, they usually were demoted to the ranks responsible for disposing of carcasses on battlefields. Sephiroth had never thought the dresser as anything near feminine. It had no design on the drawers and was a simple dark brown color. Besides, he would only ever use a closet for his trenchcoat and he usually threw that on the floor when he wasn’t wearing it. After setting it up and folding his clothes nicely and replacing them back into the drawers, Sephiroth found he was feeling a bit bored. He rummaged through another box, and pulled from it a framed picture and a shoebox. The framed picture was of the SOLDIER Cloud Strife, at the age of 19. Even now, Sephiroth was still finding it hard to admit he had feelings for another man, but he normally didn’t announce publicly that he was bisexual. The shoebox contained some other pictures of Cloud and some letters that Sephiroth had received from him in the past year. He didn’t open it, but instead put it on his nightstand alongside his radio and picture.

This did little to help curb his boredom, though.

Since he had nothing better to do, he ambled into Kefka’s room to see how his freaky associate was coming along. His room had light blue walls, a speaker system hooked up to a TV, CD player, and DVD player, a mass of stuffed animals in one corner, his new bed, two bookshelves to the right of the bed, a nightstand on the left. In a corner of the room nearer to his window, Kefka was setting a black cloth over a glass case mounted on something that resembled a flat, long, waist-high victrola without cabinets or drawers. Whatever was inside the glass appeared to be glowing, but it was out of sight before Sephiroth got a decent look at it. Kefka turned and looked at him, surprised that he wasn’t alone. He attempted a smile.

“What do you think?” he asked, gesturing around his room. Sephiroth wrinkled his nose, searching for an appropriate word.

“Very…unique.” He coughed, trying his best not to laugh. Kefka frowned.

“Your effort at pretending interest disappoints.” He said stiffly, and then noticed, “What’s that picture?”

At first Sephiroth was clueless but a glance told him everything: He had taken Cloud’s picture off his nightstand without thinking. Hoping that it would blow over instantly, he tried to dismiss it.

“It’s nothing. I must have forgotten to put it back.” He sniffed, but Kefka yanked it out of his hand before he had time to object and began to stare very intently at Cloud’s face. Sephiroth aimed a swipe for the picture.

“Give me that!”

“Now, who in the world could this be?” Kefka murmured, amused at Sephiroth’s overreaction.

“None of your business, clown-boy!” Sephiroth snarled, and this time he retrieved the photo. A wicked smile twisted Kefka’s glossed lips.

“Ahh. He’s your lover, is he? I had no idea you were a homo.” He whispered.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold it, freak show! I am NOT gay! I’m BI!” Sephiroth growled, his face turning bright red. He felt around his belt a moment before realizing that he’d left his sword on the wall in his room. Oh, he’d just shish kebab this goddamn clown later. Kefka’s smile changed to a frown for a moment as his eyes met Sephiroth, and suddenly Sephiroth had the impression that maybe Kefka knew something he didn’t. Had he met Cloud when Sephiroth wasn’t on a mission with a boy? Had Cloud suffered an injury recently and not written him about it?

Kefka’s smile returned almost as quickly as it had left.

“What do you say we order Chinese for supper tonight?” he asked cheerfully, clapping his hands energetically. Sephiroth groaned.


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LBM: Heh heh heh… poor Sephiroth-san. Don’t worry, it gets better. And yes, questions will be answered. And yes. They order Chinese for supper.