Pater Familias

Something warm and wet touched me gently. I came to consciousness to see Sakura, bending over me with a washcloth. She smiled that shy smile, applying herself to cleaning the dried remains of her work. I knew no one had ever done this for me. It made my heart beat very fast.

“You’re incredible,” she murmured, again beginning to blush. “You shoot like a teenager. I’ve never seen this much.”

Feeling smug, I put my arms under my head and just watched her.

“I really liked being in control for once,” Sakura confessed. Exchanging the used washcloth for another, she leaned up and carefully dabbed at my face. Grey eyes falling to mine, she parted her lips and sighed shakily.

“You won’t always be,” I growled, grabbing her wrist. She gave a startled squeak as I tugged her atop me. Feeling much refreshed and entirely stimulated, I grabbed her bottom in both hands and ground her down. “I’m known for getting what I want, Sakura, and what I want is you.”

She rose up on her hands, which only had the pleasant effect of pressing her hot little quim harder against me. I relaxed my grip, calculating her threshold. Too much aggression? Not enough? Soon, I wouldn’t care. She’d awakened my monster, and he played rougher than my gentleman.

What would she think when my extra, more flexible appendages came out to play?

“Am I scaring you again, Sakura?” I asked softly, wishing like hell I had her naked. “Is it fear that makes your eyes so big?” Holy fuck, the soft skin over her tailbone drove me crazy. “I think it is, but you like it, my dear.”

“W-why?” she asked brokenly, straddling me in a frozen, anticipatory crouch.

“Because you’ve known what I am and you came for me anyway.” I dipped into her pants, letting my hands encompass her ass and pull her cheeks apart. “When I was your age, Blossom, they didn’t make women like you.” Again I teased her little opening with my finger, not entering but threatening to, loving how she stiffened and became breathless. “Women were not encouraged to learn a thing or two before settling down, I’m sorry to say.”

“I thought-.” Sakura turned her face from me.

“You thought?” Still teasing her hole, I pressed a little harder, making her look at me. “Finish, Blossom. Tell me.”

“I’ve really gotten used to being called a whore,” she whispered.

Quite suddenly, I felt like killing those men in my lab. No, I felt like making them suffer untold agonies, and drinking their pain like a good wine, in sips.

I quit my tease. Sitting up, I put my arms around Sakura and lowered her to the bed. Over her now, I still held her as if giving a hug. Her pain didn’t nourish me. It made me sick. Pressing my lips to her cheek, I tasted of her slowly leaking salt water. She let me kiss her eyelids, her nose, her lips, her chin, her neck. I dragged my mouth to her ear. “Cherry Blossom, those who would call you names are only jealous you didn’t or wouldn’t fuck them. Who called you a whore?”

“They all did,” she admitted, and her voice broke. “They all did, Hojo!” Crying, she attempted to become smaller, to roll into a ball beneath me.

I felt a crack of pain widen the gap in my anger. Holding her, I slid us under the covers and held her cradled against my body. She burrowed her face into my chest, hid in my hair, and just sobbed.

I let her cry until she slept, until my constant assurances lulled her into blessed nothingness. Then, I slid from the bed and walked into my kitchen, going straight for the vegetable drawer in my refrigerator. Plucking out the drug case, I selected a mild narcotic to induce heavy sleep, and filled a needle. Ink watched me, her eyes glowing gold.

“Watch her,” I said.

She blinked her understanding and followed me back to the bedroom.

I gave Sakura a syringe full of Morpheus. She needed the god’s influence now, needed sleep full of gentle dreams. He would hold her until I returned.

Father, what the hell is going on down there? Sephiroth asked, worry in his mental tone. You just flickered madness in my mind.

No madness I can’t control, boy,I answered. Listen for intruders here. I have to go back to the lab. I don’t expect to return for a few hours. I threw on a pair of pants and my shoes, grabbed an A-line shirt and threaded into it. Furthermore, unless you want to see me how I used to be, stay out of my head awhile.

You’re scaring me, dad.

I frighten a lot of people. I grabbed my keys and donned my good leather frock coat.

Dad, he repeated, his tone now entreating me. Whatever it is, you can talk to me about it.

Later, certainly. I walked out of the apartment and bolted the door. For now, for your own sake, Sephiroth, just wait. And with that, I threw a mental wall between us.

I hit the stairs.

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

“Yuffie,” the cheerful, high-pitched voice chirped on the other side of the line.

“Miss Kisaragi,” I greeted, relieved Strife’d remembered her number properly. “This is Hojo. Am I correct in my information that you now run an unofficial vigilante service?” I knew Strife wouldn’t lie about it, but I needed to feel her out. I couldn’t have a squealer going to the labs with me.

“Ho-Jo,” she said exaggeratedly. “Hi, Jo. I don’t believe we’ve ever said ten words, so why are you calling me?”

“I want your services, Miss Kisaragi,” I said.

“Do you? It’ll cost.”

Good. She remained open to discussion. “I have gil.”

“Of course you do. I want materia, though.” Kisaragi giggled.

“Not a problem. Meet me outside of Shin-Ra labs in twenty minutes, and bring a jail-bait outfit with you.”

“What?” she yelled. “No way am I gonna-.”

“I know,” I interrupted. “You’ll see when you get there. I’m not talking about it over a cell.”

“Better be good,” she grumbled, hanging up.

I paced outside the lab some twenty minutes later. If that little ninja stood me up…

“Hi, Jo!”

I whirled at feeling her finger tap my shoulder. “Miss Kisaragi,” I said evenly, though she’d scared me out of five years with her sneaking. I turned and unlocked the lab, gesturing her ahead of me.

“Uh-uh, Jo, not until you tell me why I’m here and show me the goods.” Kisaragi leveled very serious eyebrows. “You do have materia?”

“You can buy all you want with twenty thousand gil, can’t you?” I asked, impatient.

“Nope. Thirty.”

“You don’t even know what I’m asking you to do,” I complained.

“I have to know how serious you are, though, don’t I?” She twirled in place.

I eyed her critically. She still looked like a youth. Good. Better than good.

“It’s very simple, Miss Kisaragi,” I began impatiently. “I have in my lab a pedophile and child molester. I want you to dress up as an adolescent, draw him close, and then beat the fuck out of him. I don’t trust myself not to kill him, and if I kill him the fun will be over far too soon.” I adjusted my glasses, watching her eyes get bigger and bigger. “And, Miss Kisaragi, I’m in it for the fun.”

“Wow.” The young woman toyed with the strings on her backpack a moment. “He hurt someone you know?”

“Yes.”

“So, you’re invested.” Kisaragi sniffed. “You have proof he’s done this? Is he really a child molester?”

“I am absolutely certain. I’m…intimate with one of his former victims.”

“I see.” Kisaragi walked into my lab.

I shut and locked the door behind us. At this time of day on Sunday the place was deserted, which suited admirably.

We walked together. As Kisaragi walked, she stripped. I kept my eyes straight ahead, amazed at modern women. In moments I walked slightly ahead of a naked ninja. She wrestled with her backpack. Seconds later she skipped ahead of me, clad in a baby-doll white dress with lots of lace. I watched her put her hair up into two side-tassels.

She really looked like a fourteen-year-old now. It amazed me.

“You don’t want him dead?”

“No, not yet. He needs to suffer first.” I gnashed my teeth. “I have no objection to near-death, however.”

We reached the cells. I walked down the line, stopping at the last one. Peering inside the two-way glass, I verified this man as George Allen. “This one,” I said, stepping back. “Do you mind if I record your work? I have others to visit.”

“IF you erase it after viewing,” Kisaragi murmured, looking inside. “What I do isn’t exactly legal.”

“I promise to eliminate all chance you are implicated,” I vowed, crossing my fingers. No way would I give up the video once I had it. I’d recorded and kept all my beatings and I didn’t intend to stop now.

She looked at me. Clearly, she discerned my omission. Still, after a moment she just shrugged. “Blur my face,” she ordered.

“Agreed.” I hit the door latch. “Thank you, Miss Kisaragi.”

“Call me Yuffie.”

I watched her approach Allen, watched the smile spread out on his face. Turning, I walked back toward the second pod, the one that held Jon Andrews.

He stood immediately upon my opening the door. Not slowing, I shot him with a tranq. As he slumped, I caught him.