Adult-FanFiction.org : Final Fantasy

Cell Division	By : Savaial Category: Final Fantasy VII > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2025 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy. It belongs to SquareEnix. I do not make any money from these writings, nor do I wish to. The original creators have all my respect, from game designers to voice actors.

Chapter List
- 1-Cell Division
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-23
- 24-24
- 25-25
- 26-26
- 27-27
- 28-28
- 29-29
- 30-30
- 31-31
- 32-32
- 33-33
- 34-34
- 35-35
- 36-36
- 37-37
- 38-38
- 39-39
- 40-40
- 41-41
- 42-42
- 43-43
- 44-44
- 45-45
- 46-46
- 47-47
- 48-48
- 49-49
- 50-50
- 51-51
- 52-52
- 53-53
- 54-54
- 55-55
- 56-56
- 57-57
- 58-58
- 59-59
- 60-60
- 61-61
- 62-62
- 63-63
- 64-64
- 65-65
- 66-66
- 67-67
- 68-68
- 69-69
- 70-70
- 23
- 24
- 25
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.

We slaves formed a little entourage around Hojo while walking to the cafeteria, making a U-shape around him. We didn�t plan it, didn�t speak of it, but we all understood the danger of losing him. He was our security and he needed guarding. He glanced at our formation several times with an abstracted air, as if he recognized we did something differently but couldn�t focus enough to come to a conclusion over the reason.
Sitting together, we still flanked and surrounded him. Jean put his back to Hojo by sitting behind him at the next table. Michael and Alison sat on either side, and I across the table. We ate for a few minutes, picking at the rather unusually colored roast beef and unidentifiable vegetables before he spoke. �Why are you all clustered around me like an asteroid belt?�
�We love you, sir,� Alison said cheekily, forking in food and not looking at him.
Hojo glanced down at her anyway. �Do you, now?� he asked.
�Yes, sir.� Alison speared one of his larger boiled potatoes, exchanging it for one of her rolls.
He picked up her trade and buttered it, not looking away. After a few seconds of his intense scrutiny, she began to squirm. Michael took his other potato, giving Hojo his carrots. Hojo turned his head to Michael.
I hadn�t been with them long enough to know Hojo�s food preferences, so I didn�t join in the game of give and take. I smiled at seeing the light teasing, however. That his slaves would play with him stood as significant. If they really, really feared him, they wouldn�t feel confident enough to make recreation of him.
He leaned backward to ask Jean something. The moment he did, Alison switched their milk cartons and Michael exchanged their juice. When Hojo leaned back up and grabbed his milk, he paused and swirled it around, adjudging it heavier. I held in a laugh with great effort when he peered inside the carton and then cautiously sniffed it. My eyes sought Alison�s, and we shared humor, quivering. Then, Hojo shrugged and drank, his entire body language just screaming, �fuck it�.
By the time we finished lunch, Hojo had unwittingly eaten double what had occupied his tray. Smiling, I scanned the room. We weren�t the only ones aware of the game. Many of Hojo�s regular staff held looks of envy.
I have experienced, knowledgeable staff with degrees and honors, yet they desire my boot heel.
What a sociological experiment I could conduct here, in this isolated simulacrum of warring tribal factions. The warlord himself would be a lifetime study. He currently smoked and stared at nothing, his eyes far away. Slouching backward, he radiated inner quiet.
Alison put salt in his coffee and he didn�t even notice.
A shadow loomed over my shoulder. I ducked to the side, barely missing a hand that meant to clamp down. Hojo�s eyes moved to the man behind me instantly. �Mr. President,� he greeted calmly.
�So nice to see you out and about with your�bitches,� Shinra said, looking at all of us as he sat beside me. Two men hovered at either side. �I only need two, as you can see.�
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the handsome blond seemed to be sweating.
�But, I�m not here socially,� Shinra went on, putting his clasped hands on the table as if heading a board meeting. Those hands shook slightly. �I�m wondering why you think Shin-Ra should pay for the meals your slaves eat.�
�Shin-Ra doesn�t pay for them.� Hojo put out his smoke to light another. �If you�ll check the cafeteria records you�ll find I�ve always paid for my personal labor�s meals.� He grinned and blew a plume of blue toward his employer. He still hadn�t straightened up from his slouch, a clear message of disrespect.
Shinra smiled back at him. Casually, he put his hand on my shoulder. �How considerate of you,� he said, squeezing.
Hojo lost his smile. �Remove your hand,� he said quietly, his body as still as a statue.
�Or what?� Shinra asked, squeezing harder. It wasn�t painful.
Yet.
Hojo took a tiny cellophane bag from his pocket, dangling it between his first two fingers. Wordlessly, he shook the two little white pills inside.
�And that is?� Shinra asked.
�The antidote.�
Shinra paled. Only now did he suspect Hojo responsible for his sickness. �Give it to me.�
�Let go of Miss Grey,� Hojo countered calmly.
Shinra released me. Hojo paused only a second before tossing him the bag. The man opened it up, took the pills and swallowed them, eyes of murderous intent firmly fixed upon Hojo. �Now that I�ve taken the antidote,� he said. �What�s to stop me from hauling off your blonde?�
�Nothing.� Hojo tapped his ash into his empty juice container. �Except for perhaps the loaded firearm I have pointed at you under this table.�
Shinra�s eyes narrowed. �I never imagined you would be the sort to give up everything for a�a piece of tail,� he said in disgust.
�I�m giving up nothing,� Hojo replied calmly. �Our working relationship will remain on equal terms.�
�There is no equality in Shin-Ra, Inc.�
Hojo smiled. �Your father thought that, too, on up until the time my life�s greatest work pinned him to his office chair like a butterfly to corkboard.�
Shinra gaped at him, as if in disbelief, his eyes bugging out and his mouth hanging open.
�Don�t fuck with me, Rufus,� Hojo said, grinding his cigarette out in a bit of leftover potato. �Most importantly, don�t fuck with my slaves or my staff. Learn the meaning of the word �no�, and gain a little dignity.� He got to his feet, his hand in his pocket.
All of us, slaves and lab staff, got up as well. This time Hojo walked inside circles of people, his slaves the inner and his staff the outer. They too understood how much their lives depended upon Hojo�s continuing existence. He ambled, hands behind his back, head down, not appearing to notice the increased numbers of his entourage.
I supposed it was due to his day off that he didn�t start barking orders at people the moment we filled the lab. Michael grabbed me and tugged me into the break room, shutting the door on someone apparently in need of coffee. �Just be a sec,� he said, not a hint of apology in his tone.
�Michael, what-?�
�Just a quick question,� Michael said, coming very close. He sniffed me. �You smell like daddy.�
�None of your business,� I said firmly.
�Aw,� he countered. �Well, you don�t have to share.� He stood back, grinning. �It�s plain enough. Old Rufus and Hojo are going to war over you, so��
�Shinra just wants what he can�t have,� I said, shaking my head. �And, that includes Hojo.�
Michael�s smile widened. �I knew it. That slimy rich boy wants a piece of you and daddy.� He leaned on the nearest table, looking thoughtful. �You think it�s one of his guys that rigged our collars?�
�No,� I said. �It�s one of us, Michael, it has to be.�
�One of the lab people?�
�My best guess. Think about it.�
Michael let out a breath. �Oh hell,� he swore. �That�s going to be a bloodbath. When daddy turns his own staff over to look for a saboteur, no one rests easy.� He jerked the door open. The man waiting impatiently to come inside gave him a scowl and stomped past us.
�See you at supper,� Michael said. �I�m off to take Rose to a showing of Loveless.�
�Have fun,� I answered, a bit distracted.
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Cell Division