Mommy Feathers

Rating: PG
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Zack/Sephiroth.
Warnings: Kids.
Summary: Just another day in the life of the Fair family.
Notes: Technically this is a prequel to ‘Murder Most Fowl’. I actually meant to write this fic first, but was momentarily distracted by something or other pretty much interesting, or at least I assume it was. I really don’t remember. I have also rediscovered my old Tom Lehrer albums. I’d worry if I were you.

The song in this fic is ‘It Makes A Fellow Proud To Be A Soldier’ by Tom Lehrer. I changed it only very slightly. Regarding the tune, Mr. Lehrer had this to say: “…some of you may recall the publicity a few years ago about the army's search for an official army song to be the counterpart of the navy's Anchors Away and the airforce's Up In The Air Junior Birdman songs. I was in basic training at the time and I recall our platoon sergeant, who was an unfrocked marine. Actually, the change of service had come as quite a blow to him, because it meant that he had to memorize a new serial number, which took up most of his time. At any rate I recall this sergeant's informing me and my “room-mates” of this rather deplorable fact, the army didn't have any official, excuse me, didn't have NO official song, and suggested that we work on this in our copious free time. Well, I submitted the following song which is called It Makes A Fellow Proud To Be A Soldier which, I think, demonstrates the proper spirit you'll agree. However, the fact that it did not win the contest, I can ascribe only to blatant favoratism on the part of the judges.”

For Onyx.

This fic has an accompanying illustration by Animama

Miki had inherited far more from her father than his hair and his sense of humour. She had also inherited his empathic abilities. She could ‘hear’ emotions the same way Zack could, though her parents had yet to notice her ability. It was handy talent for a little girl to have. It helped her to know when her parents were joking, or if she was pushing them too far, or if mommy was having one of his ‘off’ days, when reality seemed a little further away than it ought to be. When she had been smaller, the ‘off’ days seemed to come fairly often, but since he had become pregnant with Akira, and since Akira had been born, those days had become few and far between. She knew he wanted another baby, but was holding off because of something called finances. She wondered if ‘finances’ was something like a cold, because daddy had said they couldn’t have another baby until their finances were better and mommy agreed.

Miki wondered if chicken soup would help.

Currently she was being bundled into her little sweater by daddy. Her hair was combed, she had on new shoes and a new dress, and a little pink backpack with her lunch and school supplies in it. Today was her first day of school, and she couldn’t wait to go. Daddy was excited for her, too. He seemed to think it would be a good thing for her to “spread her wings a bit”. Miki didn’t understand that. She knew mommy had wings, but no matter how angry she got, they never seemed to grow, so she didn’t know how she could spread them.

Mommy, however, was upset and sick with worry. He was scared for her; he didn’t want her to go. He wanted her to stay safe on the hill, where he could watch her. She was too young, too small…

“I’ll be fine,” said Miki. “Honest.”

He didn’t believe her; she could see it in the cat-like eyes. He was worried and frightened, but he wasn’t going to stop her, either. Much as he desperately wanted to.

“There,” said Zack, standing up. He seemed a mile tall to her. “All dressed and ready to go. Excited?”

“YEAH!”

Mommy came up behind her and adjusted something on her pack. Miki reached back and felt the familiar pair of chained sticks she practiced her fighting skills with.

“MOMMY! If I show up with nunchaku in my bag the other kids will think I’m a freak!”

“Humour your mother,” he growled quietly.

Miki rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

She let him shove the small pair of pink nunchaku into her bag, then turned to face him. He was so very tall, it seemed to take forever for him to kneel down to her level. Funny how he was the adult, and she felt she had to reassure him.

“Be good,” he said softly.

“Do you mean Daddy-good, or actual good?”

“Actual good, not merely undetected in your antics.”

“Well, okay.” Miki kissed his face. “But it’s more fun to just not get caught.”

He hugged her. She could smell the leather of his coat, feel the silky texture of his long white hair. He wished she was two again. He wished she wouldn’t get any bigger. He wished…

He wished she would never learn what a monster he was.

Miki released the seven foot man she called ‘mommy’ and watched him straighten up.

“Daddy will be waiting for you when you get out,” said Sephiroth.

She nodded, and took her father’s hand. They left the little house, Miki and Zack both feeling Sephiroth’s pain and fear wafting after them like a strange wind.

“Why is he so scared?” asked Miki.

Zack looked over his shoulder. “Oh, that’s just the way mommies are, Miki. They worry.”

“Do I have to take the nunchaku?”

“Yeah, may as well. If your mother finds out you took them out of the bag he’ll have a fit, and I’m not in the mood for vacuuming feathers.”

“Feathers!” said Miki. She stopped in her tracks and lowered her backpack, digging into the small pink bag. Moments later, she pulled out an elaborate hair clip, fastening it into her hair and slinging the back pack once more. “Okay, we can go.”

Zack raised an eyebrow as he studied the thing his daughter was wearing. It was a clip, hung with three feathers, bound with what looked like silver thread and glass beads, and decorated with smaller, fluffy feathers. There was no question as to what kind of feathers they were; Zack would know those mercury-black plumes anywhere.

“That’s… quite impressive.”

“Aeris gave it to me. She said she made it a long time ago, before I was born. They’re mommy-feathers.”

“I can see they are mommy-feathers. And… I think that’s mommy-hair as well.”

“Yup! Aeris said Cloud accidentally yanked it out.”

Zack could just imagine what Baby’s reaction would have been to having a clump of hair pulled out. It would certainly explain where the feathers had come from.

“So why are you wearing that your first day of school?”

“Because,” said Miki. “Mommy is scared and this way he can sorta come with me.”

Zack nodded. “I see. So… the pink nunchaku make you look like a freak, but the two foot long feathers and the clump of hair is okay?”

She rolled her eyes. “Feathers are ‘in’, father.”

“Of course. I should have known that.”

They walked down the hill and made their way to the small village where Miki would attend school. It was a tiny school, built only three years ago for the tiny village’s handful of children. Zack was glad it was small because it meant Miki would not simply be another child lost in a sea of children. They stopped before the white building with the fenced yard, and he knelt before her.

“I will be right here when you get out.”

She nodded. “Okay. And tell mommy not to worry. I’ll be fine.” Miki paused, looking thoughtful, then said very quietly; “Mommy did something very bad once, didn’t he?”

Zack looked startled. “How… who told you?”

“I hear you talking sometimes when I’m supposed to be asleep. He hurt some people.”

Zack reluctantly nodded. “Yeah, he did. But he was very, very sick, Miki. Some people hurt him very badly, and it made him sick. He would never do that now.”

“And that’s why he stays on the hill?”

“Yes. But what made you ask about that now?”

“Well, sometimes it’s like I can hear how he feels. And when he hugged me I could tell he was scared I might find out something bad about him.” Miki glanced up to see if her father believed her, and could tell by the look in his eyes that he understood completely.

“That’s a very special gift you have, Miki. Not very many people at all can do that. It will make you a good and strong person. Not many people can understand how other people feel and it causes a lot of problems. And… yes, you might find out some very bad things about your mommy as you grow up. But you only need to remember two things. He would never, ever do that again, and he loves you.”

“Three,” said Miki. “Most boys can’t have babies, that’s supposed to be girls. And most people don’t grow wings when they get mad. Four. How come I don’t grow wings when I get mad?”

“Because you are a little girl, not a genetically re-engineered soldier, and be grateful, because if your friends think you are odd for having nunchaku then I can’t imagine what they would think if you suddenly grew big black wings.” Zack smiled, then looked up at the clock hung on the school house’s outer wall. “I think it’s time to go in.”

“Okay.”

Miki kissed him, then turned and ran into the building. Zack straightened up and watched his eldest child run into the tiny school, hair already a wild mess, feathers flying. He waited until she had entered, then turned, and paused, smiling as he saw a vague black shape among the trees on the side of the hill.

“Busted, ya little worry-wart,” Zack said softly, and began walking back to the hill.

***----***

Miki ran into the classroom, looking around excitedly. It was a new building, filled with new faces, and was all terribly exciting. She could hear a thousand emotions, mostly excitement, mingled with a little fear and homesickness and uncertainty. Miki found a hook with her name on it and hung up her sweater and backpack, then looked around. In one corner of the room was arranged a collection of bookcases, containing a huge quantity of all kinds of books. Miki couldn’t wait to get her hands on those, but first maybe she would take a detour over to the reading corner, which had photographs in little frames on the wall. She walked up to the pictures, and looked. It was boring stuff, mostly. Chocobos, birds, animals, people she didn’t recognize, clouds, mountains…

“Do you like the pictures?” asked a voice.

Miki glanced up to see a tall, older woman smiling down at her. Miki nodded.

“They’re very nice. Did you take them?”

“Yes, I did. I used to be a photographer, but then I decided I wanted to be a teacher instead. But I thought some of these pictures would look nice here. What’s your name?”

“Miki Fair.”

“Well Miki, I am Miss Wiltshire. Why don’t you come have a seat, and you and I and all the other kids will get to know each other.”

Miki came to sit with the other children, looking around, alert and interested. She found herself seated next to another little girl with long golden hair, wearing a hair clip similar to hers, but containing long slender feathers that shone metallic green and blue.

“Oh you have feathers too!” said Miki. “I’m Miki. What’s your name?”

“My name is Sally. I have rooster-feathers. They’re from my pet rooster Rowdy. What kind of feathers do you have?”

“Mommy-feathers,” said Miki.

There were only eleven children in the kindergarten class, and seated together as they were, every child, as well as Miss Wiltshire, heard the remark.

“Mommy-feathers?” said a boy on Miki’s other side. “Is your mommy a chicken?”

“No my mommy is not a chicken!” said Miki hotly.

“Well you said they were mommy-feathers, so your mommy must be a chicken.”

“HE IS NOT A CHICKEN!” Miki screamed at a pitch only little girls can achieve.

“HE?” said the little boy. “Your mommy is a MAN? Boy, you’re a freak! Miki’s mommy is the chicken-man!”

Miss Wiltshire was not surprised in the least when Miki hauled off and punched him. She was, however, surprised at the control and accuracy of the blow. She gently separated the duelling tots.

“Miki, we do not hit people to resolve our differences. Well, I had intended to do this a little differently, but since the conversation is already begun, and I wanted to get to know you all anyway, Miki, tell us about your mommy.”

Miki was staring daggers at the little boy next to her. Deciding to ignore him, she turned her attention to her teacher and sat up straight.

“MY mommy is a gen-et-ti-cally-re-engin-eered warrior, and he’s seven feet tall, and he has long pretty hair, and he and my daddy are both former SOLDIER First Class. And when he gets mad he grows wings and daddy hates it because he says he’s vacuuming dust and down for days.” She took the clip out of her hair and held it up. “And these are his feathers. And the pretty silver bits are his hair.”

Miss Wiltshire took the clip and examined the long, silver-black feathers. They certainly did not look dyed, and they did not look like anything she had seen on a bird. The hair was frost white, knotted into fine braids and dotted with little glass beads.

White hair, and black wings….

“A man can’t be a mommy,” said the boy. “That’s girls do that.”

“Nuh-uh!” said a little boy with an impressive explosion of brown hair. “My mommy was talking about a man who had twins at the hospital in Costa del Sol. I heard her. And then she said if daddy wants another baby then HE can have it.”

“That was my grampa Vincent,” said Miki brightly. “He’s been gen-et-ti-cally-re-engin-eered, too, so now he doesn’t have to breathe if he doesn’t want to, and if you make him mad he turns into all sorts of stuff, and he lives with Cid, but if you make Cid mad he doesn’t turn into nuthin’, he just swears.”

Miss Wiltshire passed the clip back to the child. She was thinking back to her days as a photographer, and some of the people she had documented over the years. And what Miki was describing was beginning to sound awfully familiar to her.

“So where did your mommy and daddy meet?” she asked, keeping her tone light.

“They were in SOLDIER together,” said Miki brightly. “That’s where they met my Uncle Cloud too. Uncle Cloud lives with Auntie Reno but Auntie Reno’s not a soldier, he’s a former Turk, and he doesn’t like it when I call him Auntie. Daddy said he knew he was in love the first time he saw Mommy putting his boots on.”

“Those must be really nice boots,” said Sally.

Miki shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know what’s so exciting about them. They go almost all the way up his leg and they’re made of black leather and have straps that go around his legs.”

Miss Wiltshire closed her eyes, thinking that she could probably fall for a seven foot man in thigh high leather boots herself.

“YOUR AUNTIE WAS A TURK?!” enthused the boy who had called Miki’s mother ‘chicken-man’.

Miki nodded. “Yeah. And Uncle Tseng, he was a Turk, and their friends Rude and Elena were Turks, too. And Grampa Vincent used to be a Turk.”

“What is he now?” asked the boy.

“Cid says he’s a snuggle-bunny but I don’t know what a snuggle-bunny does.”

Miss Wiltshire reached onto her desk and took down her portfolio, the one she had been going through to get the photos now decorating her classroom. She opened it to a page and showed it to the child. It was a photo of some of the people in the Shinra building, back in the days when Shinra was still a power. Miki’s face lit up with delight and immediate recognition.

“That’s Reno! And that’s Tseng, and Elena, and Rude, and that’s Reeve holding Cait, and that’s Reeve’s friend Mr. Shinra, but I don’t know him very well, I only met him once.”

“You know some very interesting people, Miki,” said Miss Wiltshire. She turned a page. “Who is this?”

“That’s Uncle Cloud, and that’s his motorcycle, Fenrir. He taught me a really cool song about SOLDIER at our last Garden Party that he and my Daddy wrote.”

“Your uncle has a motorbike? COOL!” The boy stared down at the picture. “Oh WOW! Look how BIG it is!”

Sally put her hand up. “I wanna hear the song!”

Miss Wiltshire winced. She could only imagine what sort of song it was the two had cooked up. She opened her mouth to suggest that another time might be better, but the children were already begging to hear it. With great reluctance, Miss Wiltshire nodded.

“Okay Miki, you can sing the song.”

Miki’s face lit up. She got to her feet, hands behind her back, her long black feathers in her hair, looking just as cute as a little girl could. Miss Wiltshire braced herself for what was about to come out of the little darling’s mouth. Miki took a big breath and began to sing.

“The heart of every man in our platoon must swell with pride,
For the nation's youth, the cream of which, is marching at his side.
For the fascinating rules and regulations that we share,
And the quaint and curious costumes that we're called upon to wear.

Now Al joined up to do his part defending you and me.
He wants to fight and bleed and kill and die for liberty.
With the hell of war he's come to grips,
Policing up the filter tips,
It makes a fella proud to be in SOLDIER!

After Johnny got through basic training, he
Was a soldier through and through when he was done.
It's effects were so well rooted,
That the next day he saluted
A Good Humor man, an usher, and a nun.

Now Ed flunked out of second grade, and never finished school.
He doesn't know a shelter half from an entrenching tool.
But he's going to be a big success.
He heads his class at OCS.
It makes a fella proud to be in SOLDIER!

Our old mess sergeant's taste buds had been shot off in the war.
But his savory collations add to our esprit de corps.
To think of all the marvelous ways
They're using plastics nowadays.
It makes a fella proud to be in SOLDIER!

Our lieutenant is the up-and-coming type.
Played with soldiers as a boy you just can bet.
It is written in the stars
He will get his captain's bars,
But he hasn't got enough box tops yet.

Our captain has a handicap to cope with, sad to tell.
He's from Midgar, and he doesn't speak the language very well.
He used to be, so rumor has, the Dean of Men at Alcatraz.
It makes a fella proud to be,
Why, as a kid I vowed to be,
What luck to be allowed to be in SOLDIER!”

Miss Wiltshire winced, and mentally added Miki Fair’s name to the top of the list of children to never leave alone for a second. Still holding her photo album, she turned one more page, watching the child’s reaction as the picture was revealed. It was a photograph of Sephiroth in full rage, wings unfurled, sword drawn, hair and coat flying. Behind him was the Shinra building, and he was poised like a scorpion, caught in motion, the light of the fire casting strange shadows over him, turning him into an other-worldly creature. It was taken the night he had destroyed the Shinra building; the night the newscasts said he had slaughtered any and all within reach. But Karen Wiltshire had stood not ten feet from him, and at one point he had looked dead at her, eyes full of hate and agony and insanity. And he had walked away, calling into doubt every vile thing she had ever heard about the former warrior. She didn’t want to believe he was a blood-thirsty maniac, she didn’t want to believe the great general she had met long ago, the one she had photographed tip-toeing delicately over a fallen tree to avoid getting his feet wet, was a wanton killer. She hoped, and prayed, that the quiet, aloof and regal man was living in peace, raising children with a husband who loved him.

Miki’s eyes lit up at the beautiful picture, not realizing the dramatic image was the precursor to Heidegger being split like an over-ripe tomato.

“THAT’S my mommy,” Miki said, voice full of pride. She brandished the clip at the boy. “SEE? MOMMY-FEATHERS!”

The boy stared in slack-jawed wonder. “Your mom rocks,” he finally said.

“My mommy is a warrior,” said Miki proudly. What’s your mommy?”

“She’s a ninja,” the boy lied.

“She is not!” said another child. “Your mommy makes pretty quilts for a shop.”

“She could be a ninja if she wanted! My dad’s a ninja!”

“Your dad fixes toilets!”

“Well that’s important!” Miki defended. “Who wants to have to a broken toilet, or no nice quilts for when you’re sleepy? Besides, maybe if you train real hard then you could be a ninja!”

The boy perked up immediately. “Yeah! I could be a ninja! I’m gonna be a ninja when I grow up!”

“Well,” said Miss Wiltshire, closing the photo album and placing it back on her desk. “Now we know what Randy wants to be when he grows up. What do you want to be, Sally?”

“I wanna be a venertarian and take care of sick animals.”

“I think you mean ‘veterinarian’.”

“Yeah. One of them.”

Miss Wiltshire smiled, and turned to another child. “And how about you, Andrea? Oh, and Miki? I’d like you stay after class for just a minute, okay?”

***---***

Miss Wiltshire walked into the teacher’s lounge, placing her book of photos down on a table, and pouring herself a cup of coffee. She added cream, then turned to face the small collection of adults gathered there. Some were teachers like herself, but some were concerned parents from the area, and one of them was their unofficial mayor, Jane Ryerson. It was Jane who spoke first.

“Well?” she said.

Miss Wiltshire stirred her coffee. “Miki confirmed what we all suspected. The two men on the hill are Zack Fair and Sephiroth.”

“Zack Fair?” said one man. “I thought they said Sephiroth murdered him!”

“Apparently not. That or he’s a zombie.”

There were mutters, and people exchanged glances. Jane said; “So how long have they been there?”

Miss Wiltshire set down her coffee and began searching through her book. “Longer than this village, that’s for sure. Long enough to make a five-year-old and a one-year-old. That’s what, seven or eight years? And build a house. So at least a decade. And this community settled into this area five years ago. They’ve been up there all this time.”

“And never once bothered any of us,” said Jane.

Miss Wiltshire shook her head. “Nope, not once. Miki was saying they want another baby but they want their finances to improve first.”

“And it is Sephiroth bearing these children?” said Jane.

Miss Wiltshire nodded. “Yes, Miki was very clear about that. The great Sephiroth, who the media labelled a vicious murderer, the scourge of Nibelheim, who has been supposedly dead for a decade, has in fact been retired, living on a hill with his lover, and using his genetically altered body to breed a family.”

There were a few snorts. Jane shook her head.

“Then it’s as we suspected, it was all just another Shinra lie. He probably refused to do some reprehensible deed for them, and they turned on him. Karen, you were there the night he brought down the tower, what did he do?”

Karen showed them the photo. “I was less than twelve feet from him. He could have killed me at any moment. He didn’t. I didn’t see him kill anyone who was not a Shinra executive.”

“And who hasn’t fantasized about that?” said a man standing by the window.

“It’s just more Shinra garbage,” said Miss Wiltshire. “If he was really a monster he would have been down here and slaughtered us all years ago. Instead he’s up there planning his next pregnancy.”

“A truly vile misdeed,” said a woman in the group, clearly pregnant.

“Well there is no need to bother them,” said Jane. “They were here first, it is we who intruded upon them, and they have done nothing to threaten us. I see no reason for concern. I suspect they have worries enough without wondering if we are going to organize and run them off, and I have no doubt such a move would only result in our deaths. If they want to stay on the hill in peace, then let them. They are just more victims of Shinra and their lies.”

The informal meeting broke up. Miss Wiltshire pulled a photo out of her album. She wrote something on the back, then placed it in a large envelope before exiting the room. She found Miki standing in the classroom, waiting patiently, and passed her the envelope.

“Give this to your daddy, and I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.

***---***

Miki went running out to meet her father, pouncing on him. He picked her up, and the ground suddenly seemed very far away. She could tell he was glad to see her, and wanted to get her home so her mother would calm down. They turned towards the hill, and Miki waved to the tall, black shape.

“There’s mommy!”

Zack sighed. “Yeah, there’s mommy, let’s get you back to him before he dies of anxiety and takes me with him. How was school?”

“It was fun! We talked about what we wanna be when we grow up, and what shoes are made of, and did you know they made shoes out of cows?”

“Yes, I actually did know that.”

“How many cows did it take to make what mommy wears?”

“Several I’m sure.”

“Those cows must be real cold.”

“I don’t think they’re much worried about the cold after the skin comes off.”

“You mean the cows are dead? But what do they do with the cows after they take the skin?”

"Make cheeseburgers.”

Miki’s jaw dropped. “That’s made out of cows?”

“In theory, though I have my doubts about the ones your Uncle Cloud eats. I think those ones are made out of worms and cat butts.”

“Well from now on I’m not eating any more cows!” Miki declared. “I’m gonna be like mommy and just eat the stuff he does.”

Zack rolled his eyes. “Great. Green tea, raw fish and vegetables, and the occasional bottle of saké.”

“And a big bag of Cheeze-Its when you’re not home.”

“Oh rreeeaaallllyyy….” said Zack, grinning evilly. “Oh I know a certain master of self-discipline who is going to get teased mercilessly.”

“And he made me promise not to tell you about the pork sausage pan-fried in butter.”

“Your mother is in very deep doo-doo, making me survive on seaweed and raw vegetables and sneaking that stuff.” Zack glanced at the large envelope Miki was holding. “What’s that?”

“It’s something for you from my teacher, Miss Wiltshire.”

“Miki, it’s your very first day of school, ever. How can you be getting notes from the teacher already?”

“I dunno. But I did punch Randy Myers in the nose.”

“Did he deserve it?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well all right, then.”

Zack set Miki down, and opened the envelope. Inside he found a large colour photograph. It was taken during a long-ago spring, and as Zack stared at the picture, he could almost smell the green scent of the air, almost feel the cold water rushing around his thighs. The picture had been taken so very long ago, another lifetime, it seemed. It was his unit, out on manoeuvres, the sun shining down on them, filtered by the light of the trees. In the background, a fifteen-year-old Cloud Strife stood in his blue uniform amid his brothers in arms. In the foreground stood Zack, thigh deep in cold water, arms crossed, trying desperately hard to look strong and macho instead of like a man freezing his nuts off in a mountain stream, and succeeding rather well. Directly above him was Sephiroth, binoculars in hand, trying to gain a better view of a distant location, one foot braced on a very narrow tree branch, the other on Zack’s shoulder.

He stared at the photo, uttering a short laugh of disbelief. “Miki where did you get this?”

“I told you, my teacher said you could have it.”

Zack shook his head, and flipped the picture over, spying the brief note on the back.

Mr. Fair;

Just a little something for your scrap book. Hope your husband likes it. I thought it a rather good picture of both of you.

- Karen Wiltshire.

Post Script - You may want to watch what your friends sing within ear shot of your daughter.

Zack shook his head, and smiled. He put the photo back in the envelope, and glanced up to watch Miki race off towards the vague shape in the trees, her feathers flying. He then looked over his shoulder, and saw Miki’s teacher standing in the school yard. She gave him a cute little wave. He offered her a weak smile and waved back, then walked off, shaking his head.

“Clearly Baby and I are as easy to overlook as an elephant on stage at the ballet, and about as subtle as a gunshot.” He called to his child. “Miki! What song did you sing in class?”

The child stopped and looked towards Zack. “The funny one that you and Uncle Cloud wrote!”

“Oh LORD! MIKI! I told you not to sing that in public!”

“Not THAT one, the one about being in SOLDIER.”

“That’s not much of an improvement!”

“The other kids wanted to hear!”

Zack slapped his hand over his face and shook his head. “Never should have left that bar outside Wutai,” he muttered, and trudged after his daughter.