Title: "The Care and Feeding of Cadets"
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Characters: Zack and Cloud
Rating: PG-13
Notes: artimusdin mentioned how she could sympathize with Cloud now that she started learning some swordplay. Random script chat combined with her and icedark_elf's pleading made this happen.


Today was supposed to be a good day. It was finally the day that they'd start learning swordplay. Cloud was desperate for anything that brought him closer to the Soldier experience. Swords were a symbol of Soldier, just as important as their mako eyes. Cloud's mind called up a photograph of Sephiroth during the Miyako campaign, charging to gain control of some important pass or another, sword poised to cut a path through Wutai ninja and samurai...

Soldier Fair--Zack, damn it, he said to call him Zack--was amused at Cloud's enthusiasm. He said he wouldn't give Cloud any head starts except for one thing: "Make sure you start packing straws, Spike." Zack ruffled his hair and left him to the lesson.

Cloud only saw the wisdom of the comment after the lesson and facing the trays at mess. There was no way, no fucking way, that he'd be able to pick up and carry his meal to a table, then eat it like a normal human being.

There was a jab at his shoulder, which hurt like a bitch. Right, holding up the line. He grit his teeth and picked up the tray. Light so far, not too bad. Utensils next, slippery, but he managed to get a knife and fork. Now for the actual weight. Today, the glop the mess sergeant deemed fit for consumption was a bit more runny than usual. They slapped the glop onto his tray. Once for the white glop, again for the brown glop. He didn't buckle, that's all that mattered.

Ignoring drinks entirely, Cloud took a breath and made for the tables. He saw some of his classmates moving in the same slow way that he was, trying to ignore the burning in their arms and the miles to go to a free chair. Of course, that only meant the only things he could think about were the burning in his arms and how long he had to walk for a free seat. Finally, he could throw down his tray, bringing blessed relief to his arms. He toed a chair away from the table and flopped down.

Cloud stared at today's glop, willing his knife and fork to jump in the air and feed him. It was nice to dream.

"It happens to everyone, you just have to get used to it."

Zack sat down across from him, carrying his own helping of the brown and white slop. He also had two glasses of water, and reached over to place a glass on Cloud's tray. Zack grinned. "Hey, a growing boy's gotta have food and water." The Soldier wordlessly produced a straw, unwrapped it, and placed it in Cloud's glass.

"Thanks."

"No prob."

Cloud sighed, and planted his face on his tray. He managed to swallow a mix of brown and white before coming up for a sip of water.

"I could feed you, if you want." Cloud could tell from the tone of his voice that Zack was this close to cracking up. "And you've got some meatloaf in your hair, kid."

Cloud went to his tray for another mouthful. "I'd give you the finger, but my arms are dead."