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"Kick Sephiroth on the balls for me when you see him."
"Er," Cloud says, imagining it and then wincing. "No."
She tsks. "Fine," she says. "Go give my Grandson a bath now."
"Okay," Cloud says. "Bye Ma."
"See you soon, honey," she says, and hangs up on him.
Cloud looks at the phone, feeling a sudden chill going down his spine.
The cafeteria is rowdy, loud and crowded. Always has been. It’s the loudest at lunch hour, no one above floor 30 bothers going down the elevator for lunch; it’s far too much of a hassle, takes too long and good luck getting an elevator down to ground level.
“Sephiroth!” yells Cloud.
The noise in the cafeteria means nothing when Sephiroth is involved.
Said man turns around and stares.
And he stares justifiably.
Cloud’s storming towards him now and pushing through the second- and third-class SOLDIERS that were crowding around his table.
“Oi!” yelps one indignant SOLDIER, hopping on one foot and gingerly holding his other.
Sephiroth is confused.
Cloud squares up to him, stares into his eyes and kicks Sephiroth on the balls. Just as Mama Strife said. No matter what dimension, Mama Strife raised no fool and so Cloud takes care of that.
Sephiroth is in pain.
So. Much. Pain.
Sephiroth didn’t know that Ensign Strife was enhanced. Since when was Cloud Strife a SOLDIER? Wouldn’t he have known that the ensign was going to be a SOLDIER?
Sephiroth doesn’t understand and is bent over in the fetal position, clutching his balls.
The cafeteria is rowdy, loud, crowded and confused.
Cloud might not be able to hear the ruckus in the cafeteria but he sneezes. Repeatedly.
Then the baby whimpers and he has more important things to do.