Paper Tiger Burning

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.




It was a simple matter to buy and install decorative fountains. I bought several books on Feng Shui as a smokescreen to any casual observer I might acquire in the apartment..

The flower girl slept where I’d left her. I stood over her, wondering if her hair was as soft as it looked. It covered her nearly as well as my shirt. I liked the color of it very much.

I carried the settee with her in it all the way into the kitchen and arranged it behind the table. We would have our conversations in here for awhile. Again I made certain all the windows allowed no sun and then extinguished all the incandescent lights. Carefully, I untied the knot of the Cetra’s blindfold, taking a moment to feel the texture of her hair. It felt even softer than mine.

She touched my hand.

“You can speak,” I said softly. “I’ve set fountains up near the microphones, and the kitchen is clean of listening devices altogether.” So saying I went into the living room, turned the television on and returned to the kitchen, shutting the door behind me.

“I’m scared,” the flower girl admitted in a low voice. “Hojo really wants me back.”

“He won’t get you again,” I said, making the vow easily. I’d twist the scientist’s neck on any pretext, but the flower girl seemed a convenient excuse. By no means would I allow Hojo and Shin-Ra to have the flower girl back. I felt it a matter of pride to keep her away from them. I’d thwarted Hojo and I didn’t intend to let him strike back. Let the scientist boil over losing another prime specimen.

“You can’t watch me every minute, Sephiroth, though I’m sure nothing could get past you.” She spoke with confidence, not the praise of a sycophant or prisoner.

“For the moment they are content to monitor my apartment and office,” I replied, sitting beside her, wishing I could see her eyes. “We have time to think, at least.”

“But he’s not going to stop,” she said, her voice still low.

“I would have no remorse for him meeting with an accident,” I answered. No accident, me plotting to murder him in the most bloody, painful way I could devise…

“You’d kill your own father?” she gasped.

My heart thudded heavily in my chest. Time seemed to slow. “What?” I asked, dread seizing my brain in a freezing grip.

“Oh, Sephiroth,” the Cetra made a noise of dismay. “I’m so sorry. I thought you knew.”

I stared into the darkness, stunned.

“Hojo confessed it to Cloud,” she went on.

Fury that I hadn’t felt in years swelled within me. I sucked wind against it, afraid I would hurt the girl if I gave in. But it kept coming, hot hatred that made my mouth taste of copper and bile. I felt the Masamune coalesce in my hand and I tossed it down in an instant. It clattered across the tile floor. Sweat broke out on every square inch of my flesh. I bent, putting my head between my knees.

I had to stay focused.

This meant nothing.

This changed nothing.

A sick feeling in the pit of my stomach crashed inside me like tidewater on rocks. Deep, deep inside I’d known I had a connection to that filth, but never had I dreamed he was my own father. I turned aside to vomit, something I hadn’t done since my times in the lab with that monster. He’d been the very one to teach me not to vomit. I gagged but nothing came up…

“Hold him down. Get his arm out here…”

“Stop thrashing, you little shit.”

“No food this week. He’s got to wean off it.”

“You like the mako, don’t you, boy? Oh, but why wouldn’t you?”

“You’re going to be the ultimate weapon for Shinra. Stop sniveling.”

The stinging of a thousand needles rippled through my arms in remembrance. I wanted to rip my flesh from the bone to stop it. If only she lied to me, but I sensed she believed what she said!

“You think it hurts now? You know nothing. I suggest you learn to take it.”

“I’m going to make you important.”

“Stop crying and be a man.”

“Rip those IV’s out again and I’ll beat you to death.”

“Without me you’d be nothing. I’m making you into a god and you’d better not forget it.”

A cool and gentle hand drifted over my forehead. I flinched away. Distantly I understood the hand belonged to the flower girl, but being touched always meant pain. I felt like my stomach would turn inside out and I despised myself for showing her my weakness. I’d vowed never to be weak in front of anyone, yet I rolled onto my back before this slip of a girl.



“No one will ever be kind to you because you aren’t worth it.”

“Emotions are for weaklings. I’m not making a weakling.”

“See what a lovely color blood is? Don’t you want to see more of it?”

“You’ll take the Planet for Shin-Ra.”

“Even my first experiment is a failure.”

“Sephiroth?” The flower girl hovered within my arm’s length. I edged away. How could I be the son of that demented man? How could he treat me the way he did, knowing I was his own flesh? He’d set me up as ripe plucking for Jenova, offered me to her on a silver platter. My sense of betrayal went so deep I felt gutted.

I couldn’t even commit seppuku; Masamune was too long…

“You hard-headed little idiot.”

“Memorize that book before nightfall.”

“Recite the Periodic Table correctly. Keep making mistakes and you’ll never get anything to eat.”

“The cold makes you strong. Stop whining for a blanket.”

“Number Five is doing much better than you are. Perhaps you don’t care if you’re a failure?”

A warm and gentle pulse of energy rippled through my body at the touch of the flower girl’s hand. I felt sanity flood back into my brain in just a few heart beats. Calm, kind power unwound the tenseness from my muscles.

“It’s alright,” the girl murmured, sliding her fingers down my arm to take my hand. “Let go of it, Sephiroth. Let go of it.”

I slumped backward and knew no more.