MONSTERS (A Final Fantasy 7 Fanfic)

IV: Innocence

Doctor Gast had seen the results. Jenova was no Cetra. In fact, she was what had brought about the end of their race. A monstrous being that fell from the stars, a genetic horror that twisted and defaced all she touched, mimicking their flesh (which was why the initial test results showed her to be one of the Ancients). He could no longer bear to look at Sephiroth the same way. The boy was not some fated saviour, nor one who could ever hope to commune with the planet.

He was an abomination who only existed because of his, Hojo's, and Lucrecia's arrogance.

He was a failed experiment.

There was little else offered by the Shinra company to give him reason to stay. And so, with the one true Cetra he had discovered– an intelligent woman named Ifalna, who had so much to share and was the one who informed him of Jenova's true nature– he had escaped the company's clutches to continue his own research in his own way, far away from the remnant of his terrible mistake.

It had been three months since Doctor Gast had left.

Sephiroth didn't understand why. His disappearance hadn't been too long since the incident with the child, but... surely, it couldn't be that? Doctor Gast had been his usual self for a week or so after. But on the last day of Sephiroth seeing him, it seemed as if something was bothering him. There was a melancholy in his eyes, borne from a revelation Sephiroth knew not of.

He'd apologised to him. Sephiroth didn't understand why, but he'd knelt and murmured the words 'I'm sorry' before quickly rushing out the lab. That was the last time he'd seen him. When Professor Hojo had told him, a few days later, that Doctor Gast was gone, and snapped at any question Sephiroth posed of why, the boy could only hold back his tears until he was back in the privacy of his room.

He couldn't help but weep every time he was here. He was curled up on his bed once more, looking down at a thick textbook of planetology. He could still remember the day Doctor Gast had gifted him these books, used in his education and one of the few things that decorated his room. It was a cold, empty place, with metal walls and a single drab window.

He wiped at his eyes. The tests had only grown more common now that the doctor was gone, and Professor Hojo had full reign over all that would happen to him. They were no longer involving any 'voices' he was supposed to hear, but rather, they were assessments based upon his physical capabilities.

There was no more warmth in his life, the Doctor was no longer there to comfort him, to be there for him, to protect him from Hojo's bitter words and short temper. The fact that he was never told why the Doctor left only made it worse.

It was only in the privacy of his room, now, that he ever dared to weep.

The door creaked open.

"Sephiroth."

The boy did not look up. He quickly wiped at his face to smother away his tears, though he knew it would be futile– the redness of his eyes betrayed what he'd been doing. But he cared little for that now.

"I don't want to do more tests," he spoke slowly, controlling his voice so it would not dare waver.

"Boy," Professor Hojo hissed, and Sephiroth flinched. His eyes remained on the book, don't look up, don't look at him . His heart was still yearning for the doctor to return, to teach him and talk to him and protect him from the ever-irritable Professor Hojo. Why had he just left him like that, abandoning him to remain imprisoned in these uncaring labs? Why hadn't he taken the boy with him, wherever he'd gone?

Sephiroth waited for some inevitable repercussion for his incompliance; it mostly materialised through verbal means, but Hojo did not shy away from the occasional physical rebuke. With every passing moment, his muscles grew more tense– but nothing seemed to come of his refusal. When he looked up, Hojo was giving him a shark-toothed grin.