Chapter Text
Sephiroth curled his fingers into a fist, trying to work out the latest cramp in them. As the scientists often told him, he was never in danger of developing something like tendinitis, but it didn’t make his drill session any less taxing. He ran a thumb over the callouses forming at the base of this fingers. He tried to will the cells in his body to not make it disappear tomorrow.
“Here,” a glove appeared in front of him. It looked worn, but it did not seem recently used. Sephiroth looked towards his left.
It was one of the newest recruits, one of the two from Banora. At least it was the quiet one: Sephiroth did not like the loud one as much. When the man didn’t falter from his stare, Sephiroth hesitantly took the proffered glove.
“I know that Shinra can be cheap sometimes, but they could at least give us appropriate equipment,” the quiet one commented. He was sweaty from the drills, and his hair was sticking to his face. He wasn’t much taller than him, but Sephiroth felt that he was looking up to him all the same.
“Won’t you need it?” Sephiroth inquired. Gloves were standard issue to all soldiers. He was never given a pair to better study his rapid healing abilities. In addition, he was meant to be the best in any condition. It would not do to rely on equipment as pedestrian as gloves to achieve his best abilities.
“You’re left-handed right? I won’t need that one as much as you,” he answered, though Sephiroth doubted it. It looked plenty worn already, and Sephiroth commented as much. The quiet one smiled at that as if he was saying a joke. After a moment, Sephiroth remembered what he was supposed to say in such an occasion.
“Thank you.” The words were quiet and unfamiliar in his mouth. He took the glove in his hand. It looked it would be a good fit for him.
“No problem,” the quiet one smiled again.
“Angeal! Come on! I’m starving.” It was the loud one, yelling from doorway. Everything about him was loud, from his voice to his vibrant red hair to even how he holds himself. Sephiroth wondered how this quiet one, Angeal, can deal with so much noise. Angeal gave the loud one a soft smile like he gave Sephiroth a few minutes ago.
“Coming!” he turned around. “Come over and sit with us sometime, yeah?” And then he left with quiet steps but his calm presence seemed to stay in the spot he was standing. Sephiroth glanced back down at the glove and gently tucked it into his pocket.
Sephiroth returned to training the next day with unblemished hands but still wearing the single glove on his left hand.