Mako Reactor

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.



“Are they dead?”

A hand pressed on my carotid pulse.

“No, but they sure as shit didn’t take sentry duty seriously.”

I cracked an eye open to look at Kisaragi and Highwind. “Do you mind?” I asked. “First peaceful sleep I’ve had in weeks and you two yammer overtop of me.”

Highwind grinned. “Yuffie, go get me the rubbing alcohol, would you?’

“Okay.” She ran off quickly.

To my right, Valentine stirred. His eyes popped open. Mortification and horror found a home in that red gaze. He jerked his head toward me, meeting my eyes.

Uncaring of our audience, I slowly licked my upper lip.

Valentine shot up off the wall. Gathering his cloak over his arm, he strode off like he’d been called to put out a fire.

I smiled.

“I gotta fuckin hand it to ya, Jo,” Highwind said as Yuffie returned with the alcohol. “You couldn’t-a picked a harder tango partner.”

“Tango?’ Kisaragi frowned. “I thought they were out here fighting something last night.”

“Go on, girl,” Highwind grunted. “Help Tifa pack up our shit or we’ll never know what goes where.” He bent over me with a cloth and the alcohol, generously soaking the former with the latter.

“Oh, but I-.”

“Go on,” he said firmly. “We got man talk to do.”

“Fine.” Kisaragi rolled her eyes and stamped away.

Highwind cleaned my face, chewing on his cigarette the entire time. I fleetingly imagined the alcohol igniting.

“You must be the toughest little shit I’ve ever met,” he continued. He had to dip down inside my tattered shirt to get the dried pool of blood at my collarbone. “I admire that. Yer like a spider with armor.”

“Nothing to it, Highwind,” I commented. “I’m insane.”

“You have to be,” he agreed. “He could fuckin’ squash you.”

“He’s delicious and I’m not giving up.”

Highwind chuckled, moving to clean the scabbing holes in my scalp. “Well, ya better watch yerself today, Jo, because he’s gonna take all his shit out on you. Ya know that, don’t ya?”

“I fail to see why he’d get bent out of shape over a little blowjob, but yes, I know.”

Highwind’s facial creases deepened. Grinning, he tossed the cloth away and capped the alcohol. “Just between me and you, Jo,” he said, lowering his voice and scanning the area. “Did he taste good?”

I couldn’t help smiling. “I don’t tell tales out of school.”

“I knew he would.” Smirking, Highwind helped me up. “Hot as a collapsing dwarf star, that one.”

I dusted off and ran a hand through my hair. “Hot as the planet’s core,” I amended. “Stars are too remote.”

“Tell me about it.” Highwind looked at the sky a moment, his humor failing. “Almost got to ‘em, Jo, but Shin-Ra pulled the goddamn space program.”

I studied him. He certainly had a lot of depth, the airship captain. He had talent too, and a charisma I liked. If I wasn’t hot for Turk-jock, I’d go after him.

“Sorry, Highwind,” I said, not knowing what else to say. “I know that’s a disappointing thing, having dreams crushed.”

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Come on, Jo. Spike’s about ready to hit the fucking road.”

We packed and departed.

“We’re going to Berry Burrow,” Strife announced, circling a point on our map. “Everybody who’s PHS survived the water landing, hold up your phones.”

I didn’t have one. Mine sank. Kisaragi still had hers, as did Strife, but Barret and Highwind did not.

“I have mine,” Valentine said.

“Of all people to retain their phone, you?” Lockhart laughed.

Valentine’s lips curled ever so slightly. “It appears so.”

“Right, we’re splitting up,” Strife said. “Tifa, you’re with me. Barret, Cid and Yuffie, you’re team two. Vincent, you and Hojo are team three.” He pulled out his compass and looked at it. “Shin-Ra is looking for a large group. We stick out like sore thumbs, all of us. The only one here with any chance of blending in is Tifa.” He gave us all a look over the top of his instrument. “We should maintain radio silence as much as possible, especially inside of Berry Burrow. We need to meet at Malvue Inn. I figure this will take us a day’s walk and then some, so we should get going.”

“You hate me, don’t you, Cloud?” Valentine said, striding away.

I shot Strife a smirk and followed the dark, depressing prince.

**************************************************************************************

“Look,” I said, stumbling over a rock and nearly pitching onto my face. “I’m not undead. My endurance has limits. I need to rest.”

Valentine halted so quickly I stumbled into him. With a snarl and a whirl of his cloak, he shoved me backward. “Take your rest, then, pervert.”

“I thought I was a raging homosexual.” Holy Ifrit, would he never get over himself? He acted like the first man in the world to suddenly discover he liked cock.

“You must be. A heterosexual wouldn’t know how to…” He cut himself off and faced away from me, his shoulders stiff.

“So having the same basic equipment accounts for nothing?” I sat on a rock. Shiva I was worn out. We’d walked non-stop for seven hours. “I don’t see how it could account for nothing,” I said. “I know you felt it go up your ass; you screamed like a little girl.”

That one struck gold.

Valentine strode to me and swung, murder in his blazing red eyes.

Oh, no. No. I would not suffer another beating while I still had bruises from the last. I felt exhausted and entirely unwilling to play the part of his punching bag.

I summoned a tentacle from my back, wrapping it around his falling fist. He stopped with a jerk, his eyes widening at the sight of the light green limb curling around his arm.

“Forget something, Turk?” I asked quietly.

I’d wrestled him down and thrown him into a coffin with my tentacles, thirty-six years ago. They were stronger than him, even stronger than me. It shamed me to have to use them on him now. But I only had to use one, apparently, because Valentine went stock still, absolutely froze. His blank, waxen face betrayed his fear.

“Don’t hit me, Valentine,” I continued, my voice quiet. “When I’m healed up and we aren’t on a schedule, fine, but right now you would kill me.” I began to release him, very slowly. “I promise to keep throwing hateful words at you so you don’t forget, alright?”

His eyes moved to mine, but with effort. His attention wanted to remain solely upon the green appendage spiraling down his arm.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” I said, still speaking in a hushed tone. “But, honestly, do you have to solve everything with your fists?”

“I’d given up that way of solving things, until you returned,” he answered darkly. “You bring it out in me, Hojo. You make me want to rip you apart.”

“Good.” I released him fully. “I guess no one but the nerd has the guts to tell you about yourself.” I used the tentacle to pick up my pack, slinging it over my shoulder.

“You deliberately hurt me.” Valentine’s voice shook as he desperately attempted his usual, stern and grim composure.

“You fucked my wife seven hundred and sixty two times.” I looked at him calmly, but reciting the number caused a brief flare up of exquisite, deep-seated hatred. “I know because I inserted her IUD, Valentine, a custom-made one, and it had a partner-specific counter on it.” I smiled at his astonished face. “Thought it would be a good joke to tell her later. She loved sneakiness like that. But, you wouldn’t know since you were too busy fucking her to learn her personality.”

I walked by him.

“I took the IUD out to impregnate her. You can imagine neither of us found my joke very funny. I knew she was fucking you, you goddamn Turk. Did you have to make a complete mockery of a love already withering on the vine?”

I couldn’t see for tears. I stumbled along for what seemed like miles, uncaring if he walked behind me or not.

I shouldn’t have thrown his sins out into the air, given him a weapon against me. Now he knew my pain intimately.

Two hours of painful memories passed. I slogged through them the same as I slogged through the muck under my boots.

And then, it began to rain. The heavens opened up and wept cold, fat tears on me. At first I felt thankful the weather reflected my mood, because my tears would not be noticeable now. But, my balance and speed suffered from the lack of traction. The wet clay slid out from under me a few times, bringing me down. Exhausted, aching, cold and wet, hungry and heartbroken, I felt I should have let Valentine kill me.

I had nothing to live for, nothing. Taking down Shin-Ra meant something, but not quite enough. The thought didn’t sustain me, like it did Strife and Barret. I had little hope our efforts would amount to anything in the long run, anyway.

“Hojo, stop,” Valentine rumbled from directly behind me.

But, I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop. I had to keep walking. Walking helped numb my aching heart a little. Oh, not much, but a little.

“Hojo, stop,” he repeated. “I see a cave.”

“S’nice,” I mumbled.

He put his hand on my shoulder. I didn’t know if I would come or vomit or both. Either one wouldn’t be too messy out in this rain.

“Do you want to keep walking?” he asked.

“Malvue Inn,” I said. “It’s only a few more kilometers. Berry Burrow…” I didn’t finish. I hadn’t the strength to talk. I could see my breath now, and night crept closer. I shook his hand off and staggered onward.

“I don’t think you’re going to make it,” Valentine argued.

I turned. He was right. I wouldn’t make it at this rate. “Give me a small strap off your belted tunic,” I said with effort, putting my pack down on a rock. Valentine stared at me in confusion for a bare moment before complying, taking a narrow strip if leather off the right bicep on his garment. I found the needle in my pack and cleaned it off with alcohol, then my arm.

He watched me fill the syringe and cinch my vein. “What is it?”

I made it quick, thrusting the syringe in and pushing the plunger, holding the leather strap in my teeth. I only had to wait a moment before letting go. “Cocaine, five percent solution in water,” I answered, putting everything back. Already I felt better. I probably had enough energy to make it now. “I can’t spend the night in a cave, Valentine. I’m wet; if I got any colder I’d probably die.”

“You aren’t that delicate,” he replied, but I heard the doubt in his voice.

“It doesn’t make a difference.” I handed him the strap and hefted my pack again. “Now, we don’t have to stop and find out if you’re right.”