bard_linn | FFVII: Defiance

I am not completely happy with this, but there comes a time when done is done and that’s enough. I’ve gotten there with this. It’s just a little thing and not really of great value in and of itself, more of an answer to a question. Unbetaed. Kind constructive criticism welcome. I killed this bunny once.

ciceqi managed to wake it up again.

Title: Defiance
Pairing: None. Sephiroth centric.
Summary: Why Sephiroth wears the outfit he does. Oddly enough, not crack considering the question.

Defiance

It had started with his hair.

When he’d been under Hojo’s less than tender graces, the scientist had kept his hair cut short, sometimes shaving his head completely. When Sephiroth finally escaped to join the army – though escape was a relative term as Hojo regularly dropped in on him – he let his hair grow. Oddly enough, the military had no regulations on hair style. You had to wear your uniform, of course, but your hair could look like anything you wanted as long as it didn’t interfere with your duties.

(This would be a very handy rule later when two distinctive individuals with hair styles from a barber’s nightmare entered the organization.)

As Sephiroth grew out his hair it became rather raggedy and coarse. Strands snapped, leaving the entire mess uneven. Steven Willis, one of those rare souls in his unit, the ones who weren’t afraid of him even though he already had the eyes of a SOLDIER but wasn’t technically one yet – approached him one day and dragged him down into Midgar. There Sephiroth met his sister, thing with bright eyes and nerves of steel who went by the name Elizabeth. She promptly sat him down and trimmed the locks evenly then gave him a thorough lecture on hair care, going so far as to drag him down to the sector six market to purchase the required items.

The pair had become the first people Sephiroth would even consider calling “friend,” though neither lasted long. Steven was killed in action in the field; Elizabeth died soon after in an accident. Sephiroth had always wondered, though he had never actually investigated, if their deaths had been as coincidental as they seemed.

Without Elizabeth’s sharp scissors to tame it, his hair grew even longer. As he continued to move up the ranks he began to look into what he would wear off duty. The silver haired man had been wearing the uniform everywhere and Hojo seemed to approve from his comments last ‘visit’. Willing to do anything to shed the “perfect SOLDIER” image, Sephiroth carefully made some inquires, seeking out the right combination. He already knew the types of looks his exotic features drew; now it was time to enhance those characteristics.

In the end he had settled on black leather because it symbolized just about every rule breaking image in society. (It also nicely accented his looks, though he wasn’t really considering that.) The shoulder guards were perhaps the only practical thing about the entire outfit, and even then they weren’t very useful. Still, Sephiroth knew he had gotten the right mix when someone had nearly fallen over the first time he had worn the outfit outside his room. Luckily his own attitude kept off advances; he really didn’t want to be beating off his superiors, peers or subordinates. It was bad for company morale.

If he had been interested in taking up some of those offers it would have been another story, but that wasn’t the case.

Hojo didn’t approve. The scientist never said anything, but the officer could tell. Seeing that disapproval was a very satisfying thing.

In any case, not many actually saw Sephiroth in the outfit. He tended to stay out of sight when on duty, taking up residence in his room. The silver haired man was far more comfortable out of the public eye and treasured the privacy officers received. He had no friends, no reason to go out partying as other did. Solitude suited him perfectly.

Things had changed shortly after Sephiroth had received his promotion to General status. An attack on the President, which ended in his wife’s death, summoned military officers from all over the building. Sephiroth had found himself in the thick of it, Masamune leaving long trails of blood behind its path. In the end the image of The General, dressed in midnight black, was firmly fixed in everyone’s minds. Shinra’s legend had been born.

No one raised a single objection when he appeared arrived to duty the next day not in his uniform.

A few weeks later he disposed of all of his uniforms, including the dress uniform which involved him pinning a ton of various military decorations he didn’t want. It was the closest time Sephiroth had ever felt free.

But slowly that which once had been a sign of individuality became a chain of its own. Soon Sephiroth was just as expected to wear his traditional – admittedly rather insensible – outfit day after day. As he dressed one morning Sephiroth realized a bitter fact. He may have thrown away the image Shinra had thrust upon him but there was no need for the company to worry about him getting out of control.

He was far too good at creating his own chains.