Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Reborn to Run a Corporation (Send Help)
When Cloud woke up as a newborn, long after the events of Advent Day, all he could do was wail at the sheer misfortune of it all. He had survived Meteorfall, Sephiroth ( multiple times ), and the Lifestream, only to end up here - helpless, tiny, and wrapped in the softest blankets he ever had draped over his skin in all his lifetime.
Then, through bleary newborn eyes, he saw her.
His mother.
Alive. Well. And looking down at him with warmth and exhaustion, as if she had just given birth to him- because she had.
That alone was enough to shock him into silence. But fate wasn’t done messing with him yet.
With a fond smile, Claudia turned and gently handed him over to a man she lovingly called Dear .
And that was when Cloud came face to face with the last person he ever expected to see cradling him like a proud father.
Fucking President Shinra.
Cloud had always been fatherless. He would’ve been perfectly content staying ignorant about the man’s identity, growing up in Nibelheim with his mother, living his childhood in blissful unawareness. He had turned out fine under her care- a little antisocial, sure, but fine.
More or less.
But now? Now, fate had decided to drop this bombshell on him. His father wasn’t some nameless nobody lost to time. No, his father was President fucking Shinra. The man responsible for half of Gaia’s problems. The same man whose company he had spent years fighting against.
Cloud wanted to scream. Unfortunately, all that came out was an angry, high- pitched wail.
“Someone’s fussy,” Claudia cooed, reaching out to gently stroke his tiny cheek. “Poor thing, it must have been a rough delivery.”
Rough delivery? Cloud would have laughed if he wasn’t a literal infant . Try existential crisis. Try horrifying revelations.
Meanwhile, Shinra Sr. just chuckled, adjusting his hold with surprising ease for a man Cloud had only ever seen behind a desk, barking orders and ruining lives.
“Strong lungs,” he mused, watching Cloud with a strange mix of curiosity and amusement. “That’s my boy.”
Cloud wailed louder.
Just leave already so they can go back to Nibelheim! How had his mother and this man even met? Cloud had never questioned her taste in men before, but now he was seriously reconsidering it. No one could deny that Claudia Strife was a beauty- warm, kind, patient . And yet, out of all the people in the world, she had ended up with him ?
Cloud wanted to believe this was some elaborate joke, but no- Claudia was gazing up at Shinra Sr. with a soft, affectionate smile, looking every bit the loving wife.
How? How?!
Back in Nibelheim, the men had been insufferable, turning their noses up at her because she had arrived with a child and no husband in sight. Stupid, small- minded bastards. Cloud had never cared about his father’s identity before. He had been perfectly fine growing up with just his mother, knowing she loved him unconditionally.
But now? Now he had this knowledge burned into his brain. Now, he had to live with the fact that his father wasn’t some mystery figure lost to time- he was the very man whose empire had bled the planet dry.
Cloud squirmed, trying to escape Shinra Sr.’s grip, but all he managed was an uncoordinated flail of tiny limbs.
Shinra chuckled. “Feisty little thing.”
Put me down, you bastard, Cloud thought furiously.
Instead, Shinra pressed a kiss to Claudia’s forehead, murmuring, “You did wonderfully, my dear.”
Cloud gagged internally. This can’t be real.
Worse, he was getting tired. He could feel it creeping in- his tiny baby body forcing him to shut down, to accept this nightmare as his reality. But he fought it, his stubbornness manifesting in a tiny frown that deepened as his heavy eyelids drooped.
“Oh,” Claudia breathed, watching in adoration. “Look at his little frown.”
“Mm,” Shinra hummed, peering down at him with a smirk. “He’s glaring at me.”
“Don’t be silly,” Claudia laughed softly. “Newborns have poor eyesight. He’s probably just trying to see you.”
No, I am absolutely glaring at you, Cloud mentally corrected, but it was too late. His tiny body betrayed him, sleep pulling him under against his will.
The last thing he saw before drifting off was Shinra Sr.’s amused smirk and Claudia whispering, My little stormcloud.
Cloud desperately hopes that this is all a dream.
Shinra had never thought much about fate. He was a man of power, of control- fate was something weak men used to justify their failures. And yet, looking down at the tiny stormcloud of a child scowling up at him, he wondered if it had been fate, after all, that had led him to Claudia Strife that day.
It had started with a mistake. His mistake.
Years ago, he had traveled to Nibelheim to oversee one of Hojo’s so- called promising experiments for the SOLDIER program. The scientist had assured him that his Gil was being well spent, that the project would yield results beyond his wildest expectations. Given how much money Shinra had already funneled into Hojo’s work, he wasn’t about to take the man’s word for it.
Hollander had already wasted a fortune on failures- his personal grudge against Hojo getting in the way of actual progress. The last thing Shinra needed was to invest in another dead- end project.
So, he had made the rare decision to travel himself, to personally ensure his investments weren’t being squandered. As of now, the brat was nothing more than a toddler who could barely take a single step. With silver hair and cat slit eyes that would stare at him from the glass window provided for observation. Shinra only took a moment to observe him before deciding to go out of the mansion.
Nibelheim was nothing special, just another quiet mountain town clinging to relevance through Shinra’s funding. It was cold, isolated, forgettable. The only thing worth noting was the local wildlife- the Nibel Wolves.
Big. Vicious. Fast.
He hadn’t thought much of them at first. Not until he found himself hunted.
It had been a foolish mistake. A single stroll outside, unaccompanied by his guards, just to get a feel for the place. He had barely walked past the village outskirts when he heard them- low, guttural growls, the crunch of snow shifting under paws.
He turned and saw them.
Five wolves, larger than the normal breeds he had encountered before, their yellow eyes locked onto him with the unmistakable hunger of creatures that had decided he was their next meal.
He had run.
Not out of cowardice- no , Shinra was no coward- but out of calculation. He had no weapon, no knowledge of the terrain, and his guards were too far to hear him if he shouted.
He swore to fire them later. No, worse- he’d send them to the most miserable, frozen, shithole of an outpost and keep them there until their offspring were old enough to take their places.
Unfortunately, his frustration didn’t change the reality of his situation. He was lost. Worse, he had run in the wrong direction, straight into unfamiliar terrain. And then, one of the wolves lunged.
He had barely raised his arm in time.
Pain tore through him as fangs sank into his forearm, the creature’s powerful jaws locking down. He was pretty sure he was going to die, surrounded, bleeding, with no one to hear his screams.
Then the first arrow struck.
It pierced straight through the wolf’s throat. The beast staggered back, gurgling, before collapsing. Three more arrows followed, each finding their mark, sending the pack scattering.
And then she emerged.
Like an avenging angel, she stepped into view, bow still drawn, gaze sharp and cold as she surveyed the area. The wolves that still lived took one last look at her and fled, deciding that this prey wasn’t worth the risk.
Shinra was still reeling when she strode forward, yanked a knife from her belt, and plunged it into the skull of the dying wolf at his feet. Only then did she turn to him.
And looked at him like he was a worm.
Shinra had been called many things in his lifetime. Feared. Respected. Loathed. But never had he been dismissed with such blatant indifference.
And that was the moment he knew- he needed to know who she was.
She didn’t ask if he was alright. Didn’t fawn over him or simper as most women did in his presence. Instead, she clicked her tongue in irritation and muttered, “Idiot.”
Then she hauled him to his feet, half- dragging him back to her home despite his protests. He was President Shinra , damn it! But no, she had made it abundantly clear that his title meant nothing to her.
She cleaned his wound, wrapped it carefully, and then- then - she shoved a steaming bowl of soup into his hands and ordered him to drink.
And he did.
Shinra wasn’t sure how they had hit it off after that. All he knew was that something about her had ensnared him. Maybe it was the way her actions contradicted her demeanor- how she remained distant and cool even as she meticulously checked his bandages the next day.
Maybe it was the way she never treated him differently even after she learned who he was.
His useless guards eventually found him. He had let them off with only a glare and a tight- lipped order to deliver a gift to the woman who had saved him.
He had assumed she was merely another mountain woman, hardened by the harsh life of Nibelheim. But a few well- placed inquiries through his Turks painted an entirely different picture.
Claudia wasn’t just tough- she was isolated .
She lived alone, away from the town proper. Unlike the other women in Nibelheim, she did not involve herself in social gatherings, did not participate in the idle gossip of the community. She rejected the advances of the local men, refusing to take a husband. And in return, they had all but exiled her.
An aberration, they called her. Strange. Unwomanly.
Shinra’s grip tightened around the reports.
He was no sentimental man. He did not dwell on the plight of the common folk, nor concern himself with the petty feuds of backwater towns. And yet, the knowledge bothered him. The thought of Claudia, living in isolation, shunned by her own people- it did not sit well with him.
It was absurd.
Why should I care?
But somehow, he found himself returning.
Again.
And again.
It had started under the excuse of business- checking on the Nibel Reactor, overseeing progress- but eventually, it became something else.
Her coldness fascinated him. And yet, despite that, her actions were filled with undeniable care . She was the first woman who had ever treated him normally , not as a powerful man to impress, but as an irritating visitor who kept showing up at her doorstep.
And President Shinra, ruler of Midgar, master of the corporate world, found himself in a position he had never experienced before.
He was smitten .
And so, he did what any logical man in his position would do.
He had the Turks dig up Nibelheim’s courtship customs. If Claudia Strife valued tradition, then tradition she would have. Shinra had never courted a woman before. He had never needed to. Women came to him - eager for wealth, power, and status. But Claudia was different. She was unimpressed by his wealth, indifferent to his authority, and frustratingly immune to charm.
He was President Shinra, after all. If he was going to pursue a woman, he would follow tradition to the letter.
Or so he thought.
The customs were... strange .
They valued practicality above all else. Gifts weren’t meant to be grand or extravagant, but useful . Food, clothing, tools- things that would help the intended partner survive. Courtship wasn’t about grand declarations, but proving you could provide.
Shinra was unfazed.
It was simply a matter of adjusting his approach. Instead of jewelry, he sent her hunting knives. Instead of expensive perfumes, he sent high- quality pelts. He even went so far as to commission one of the finest bows he could find and had it delivered straight to her doorstep.
And yet- Claudia remained unmoved .
She used the gifts, yes, but she neither acknowledged nor rejected them. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought she hadn’t even realized what they were meant for.
He had no idea where he had gone wrong.
He refused to accept failure.
So he took it a step further.
Nibelheim custom dictated that a suitor should prove their worth by providing for their intended. That was the true test- offering food, supplies, and demonstrating capability.
Then he tried hunting.
He was horrendous at it.
The first time, he nearly lost a finger. The second, he returned with nothing but mud on his coat and bruises on his pride. The third- well. The third was so humiliating that he refused to speak of it.
And Claudia?
She just watched.
No amusement. No pity. Just that same unreadable expression that drove him mad .
The Turks had given him a full rundown beforehand, but knowing the steps and executing them were entirely different things. He barely managed to take down a deer after wasting far too many bullets, and the attempt at skinning and butchering it had resulted in a mess so appalling that even he was disgusted.
But still- he had done it.
He had provided .
So he had arrived at Claudia’s cabin, blood- stained and triumphant, prepared to offer his kill.
She had taken one look at him, then at the absolute wreck he had made of the deer, and let out the longest sigh he had ever heard.
Then she wordlessly took the knife from his hands, fixed the mess, and handed him back a portion of the meat.
It had taken him a moment to register what had just happened.
He had brought her food.
And she had turned around and given some back to him.
As if she was the one providing.
The realization had barely begun to settle when she did it again .
He had tried his hand at fixing a broken bowstring for her- only to have her take it from his hands, repair it herself, and wordlessly pass him a bundle of arrows.
When he had attempted to start a fire during one of his visits- she had merely shaken her head, done it herself, and then quietly handed him a steaming bowl of stew.
Slowly, painfully, it began to dawn on him.
Every time he had tried to provide for her- she had been the one to end up taking care of him.
The roles had reversed.
He was supposed to be the suitor.
And yet here he was- the one being provided for.
His Turks had to be laughing at him.
But did he stop?
No.
Because despite her unimpressed stares, despite the way she seemed to tolerate more than encourage his efforts, she still used the gifts he gave her.
He had noticed the warm cloak he had once gifted her hanging near the door, worn and slightly frayed but clearly used.
He had seen the hunting knife he had specially commissioned for her tucked at her waist, sharpened and well- maintained.
And then there was the stew.
Shinra had never been one for hands- on labor, but he had trained himself. He was capable. And when he had learned that the Nibel wolves were a threat, he had taken it as an opportunity- both to prove his worth and to take a bit of revenge on the creatures that had once nearly ended him.
Tracking had been difficult in the snow- laden mountains, but he had patience, and when he finally took one down, there had been a rare swell of pride in his chest. That pride only grew when he painstakingly prepared a meal out of it. It had taken effort- far more than he cared to admit- but when he set the finished dish before Claudia, he watched her take a careful bite.
She had paused. Blinked.
Then, to his absolute delight, she had nodded once, quietly murmuring, “It’s good.”
Shinra had not felt pure victory in years.
Not through business, not through politics, not even through the vast empire he had built.
But that quiet acknowledgment? That single nod of approval?
That had meant everything.
And that was when he realized- this was what it felt like to truly earn something.
So yes, maybe he wasn’t perfect at this. Maybe his courtship wasn’t going entirely as planned.
But when Claudia turned and made him a meal the next day, using the ingredients he had hunted, as if silently accepting him into her space, into her life-
He found that, for the first time in a long time, he didn’t mind losing.
Shinra had never been what anyone would call a good father.
Before Claudia, he barely spared a thought for the children that resulted from his past trysts. If their mothers demanded compensation, he provided it- nothing more, nothing less. They were given enough to survive, to keep any potential scandals from surfacing, but their existence did not concern him beyond that.
Rufus had been the only exception. His mother had died in childbirth, leaving him as an orphan in all but name. That, at least, Shinra had taken responsibility for. He would not let his own blood be cast aside, left to fend for himself in the cold, ruthless world of Midgar. Rufus would be raised properly, trained to carry on the legacy that Shinra had built.
But Cloud…
Shinra had thought he knew what to expect when Claudia first placed their newborn son in his arms. Yet, the moment he looked down, something in him shifted.
Cloud was small. Smaller than he had imagined, swaddled in layers of warmth, his tiny face barely visible beneath the soft blankets. His skin was pale, with the slightest rosy hue, and his nose- that was Claudia’s nose. And his little mouth was already downturned in a way that reminded Shinra of Claudia’s frowns whenever he tested her patience. There was no mistaking it.
And really, aesthetically speaking, Cloud had taken almost everything from Claudia.
Shinra traced a gentle finger over his son’s impossibly soft cheek, taking in every little detail.
It was uncanny. He had expected to see more of himself in his son, but the resemblance to Claudia was undeniable. The delicate curve of his features, the peaceful stillness in sleep- it was as if she had stamped her likeness onto the child, as if to make sure that everyone would know exactly who he belonged to.
And his eyes- Shinra had expected them to be dark like Claudia’s or inherit his own piercing steel- gray. Instead, when they finally opened, they were a perfect mix of both. A deep blue, rich like the sky over Nibelheim, yet sharp and clear with a familiar intensity. A color that belonged to neither of them fully, yet was undeniably theirs.
Shinra couldn't help but huff a small, amused breath.
If his son had to look like anyone, he was glad it was her.
Because Claudia was beautiful. In the way Nibelheim’s cold mornings were beautiful. In the way quiet strength could be beautiful. She had never needed to dress herself in riches or silks to turn heads- her sharp eyes, her quiet confidence, the way she carried herself despite the way her own hometown had scorned her… that was what made her radiant.
And Cloud, though small and barely a few hours old, already carried that same quiet intensity in his tiny features.
Then there was his hair.
Shinra had always kept his own well- groomed, dark and slicked back in a way that demanded presence. Claudia’s was golden, soft, cascading down in waves like sunlight over the snow- covered peaks of Nibelheim.
Cloud, on the other hand…
He was born with a full head of pale, soft tufts- not quite golden, not quite dark. A color caught somewhere in between. But what caught Shinra’s attention wasn’t just the color.
It was the way it refused to settle neatly.
Even in infancy, there were strands that stubbornly stood at odd angles, a quiet rebellion already beginning to take shape. Shinra could already see where it was headed.
A wry chuckle escaped him as he reached out, gently running a finger over the impossibly soft strands.
“ You're going to have a wild mane, aren’t you? ” he murmured.
The thought was oddly endearing. And amusing.
Somewhere in the future, he could already picture Cloud with an untamed mess of hair, impossible to keep neat no matter what they tried. He could already hear Claudia’s sighs of exasperation, the inevitable attempts to tame it, and Cloud- their Cloud - stubbornly refusing to sit still.
Shinra huffed, shaking his head.
Of course their son would be like that.
And if he inherited more than just Claudia’s looks- if that sharp mind and unshakable resolve were passed down as well- Shinra would offer his prayers early for the poor souls who dared to pursue his son in the future.
It would not be for the faint of heart.
No, he knew exactly how it would go.
Cloud would grow up, inheriting his mother’s quiet strength, her stubbornness, her standards. Shinra had spent more effort than he cared to admit trying to impress Claudia, clawing his way through trial and error, proving himself over and over again.
And he had succeeded.
But for the poor bastards who set their sights on Cloud?
Shinra could already imagine their suffering. And while he would offer his prayers, there would also be a certain smug glee in watching them struggle.
After all, he had been the first to take on that challenge.
And if Cloud was anything like his mother, they would have their work cut out for them.
Very few people knew of Cloud’s birth.
Shinra had made certain of that.
It hadn’t been difficult- most of the world remained blissfully unaware that he had even taken a wife, let alone fathered a child. The secrecy had been deliberate, a necessary precaution. If it became public knowledge that the President of Shinra had an infant son, it would invite a storm of problems- assassination attempts, kidnapping schemes, political maneuvering.
He had seen it all before.
There were far too many enemies who would love to get their hands on his Child. The boardroom jackals, the foreign powers looking for leverage, even some within Shinra’s own ranks- especially within Shinra’s own ranks. Cloud, barely a few days old, was already a potential target.
So Shinra ensured that no one outside a select few would ever know.
The hospital records were falsified. The medical staff sworn to absolute silence. The Turks assigned to Claudia’s security worked in shifts so tight- knit that even the most skilled infiltrators wouldn’t be able to slip through. Surveillance was constant- state- of- the- art drones, sensor arrays, layers upon layers of protection that ensured that not even Hojo could breathe in Cloud’s direction without permission.
Everything had been settled.
Claudia and Cloud would return to Nibelheim once she had fully recovered. It wasn’t a decision made on impulse; they had discussed it weeks prior, late at night in the quiet of their penthouse, with only the distant hum of Midgar’s restless machinery filling the silence between them.
Shinra had known this was coming. From the very moment she had confirmed her pregnancy, he had anticipated that Claudia would want to return to the home she had left behind, away from the steel and smoke of the city, away from the dangers that inevitably came with being a Shinra.
And he hadn’t fought her on it.
He never did.
Because Claudia knew best.
Because Shinra had long since accepted that his presence- his power, his name- would always carry shadows with it.
And because, in truth, a part of him had come to love their home in Nibelheim as well. It was the one place in the world where he wasn’t President Shinra, ruler of an empire, master of a corporate beast that spanned continents. There, he had been just a man courting the woman he had fallen helplessly for, bringing her gifts with more enthusiasm than expertise, suffering through the Nibelheim courtship customs with little more than stubborn pride and sheer determination.
There, it had been just them .
A life removed from the weight of his empire.
A quiet, untouched place that belonged to them alone.
But he couldn’t stay. Not forever. He had spent too long building Shinra into what it was today, carving his legacy into steel and mako, ensuring that his empire would endure long after he was gone. He couldn’t simply leave it all behind- not yet, and certainly not for a future that was still uncertain.
Claudia understood this.
She always had.
So they had made their plans, found their balance.
She and Cloud would go ahead, while Shinra maintained his presence in Midgar, ensuring that the company remained in the right hands. He would visit often- more than often, if he had any say in it. The town itself would change under his influence. No longer would Claudia be treated as some outcast, no longer would whispers follow her when she walked through the streets.
It had all been planned, smooth and simple .
And then, a few months after Cloud’s birth, all of it came to a screeching halt.
It had happened so casually that Shinra almost dismissed it.
Cloud was bundled in soft blankets, resting in Claudia’s arms, his little face scrunched up in that distinct frown that already mirrored hers. Shinra, despite himself, had been amused, watching his son with the kind of fondness he hadn’t expected to feel so strongly.
Then Cloud seems to notice his presence– the babe has been content in ignoring his father as much as he can and when their eyes met, Shinra felt something go still inside him.
His eyes-
Something was strange with his son’s eyes.
A glow.
Faint, barely noticeable unless one looked for it, but Shinra had spent too many years overseeing classified projects to not recognize it.
His breath turned cold.
Because there were only two places he had ever seen that glow before.
One was in Hojo’s labs, deep within the highest levels of security, locked away behind endless research notes and experiments that Shinra himself had never fully trusted .
The other…
Shinra’s grip on the armrest tightened.
The only person he had ever seen with eyes like that was a child Hojo had hailed as his greatest success.
Sephiroth.
A slow dread began curling in his gut.
It wasn’t possible .
It shouldn’t be possible.
Claudia had been under constant protection throughout her entire pregnancy. She had been surrounded by his people, watched over by the best security money could buy, given nothing but the most state- of- the- art medical care. And Cloud- Cloud - had been shielded from the world from the moment he took his first breath.
There wasn’t a single chance- not one - that Hojo, or any of his little monsters, could have gotten close enough to do something to them.
And yet.
The proof was right in front of him.
His son’s soft, round face. That familiar downturn of the brows, the faintest hint of displeasure on such a tiny, fragile expression.
And his glowing eyes.
Claudia hadn’t noticed. She was still watching Cloud, cradling him with that soft, unreadable fondness she always had. The room was dim, the glow faint- small enough that Shinra might have dismissed it as a trick of the light.
But it wasn’t.
He knew what he saw.
And if there was even a chance that something had been done to his son-
A sharp, dangerous heat cut through the cold.
Someone was going to pay .
Shinra wasted no time.
The moment the realization settled in, a cold, unrelenting fury took its place. There were only a handful of people in the world who could possibly be responsible for something like this, and at the top of that short, short list was one particular bastard who had long since forgotten what it meant to be human.
Hojo.
Shinra’s patience was already thin when he summoned the scientist. It didn’t take long for Hojo to arrive, smug and self- important as always, his ever- present clipboard tucked under one arm, the gleam of barely restrained curiosity already lighting up his face.
Shinra had to resist the urge to slam his head into the nearest surface.
“Ah,” Hojo greeted, pushing up his glasses, sharp eyes flickering with vague amusement. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Shinra didn’t waste words.
“What the fuck did you do to my son?”
There was a beat of silence.
The Turks barely shifted, but their attention sharpened.
Hojo blinked, then laughed. Actually laughed , as if the mere thought of such an accusation was ridiculous.
“Your son?” he echoed, shaking his head with that insufferable smirk. “Now, now, President. As much as I’d love to take credit for whatever has you so worked up, I’m afraid I’ve had no hand in it. Your precious heir has been under your watch, hasn’t he?”
Shinra’s glare could have set a man on fire.
If it had been anyone else, anyone , they would have been trembling. But Hojo, being the absolute menace that he was, only seemed intrigued by Shinra’s anger.
Shinra inhaled sharply, forcing himself to remain seated, forcing himself to stay calm.
“You expect me to believe that?” he said, voice dangerously low. “You expect me to believe that my son- who has been monitored and protected better than even you - somehow ended up with the exact same eyes as your pet project, and you had nothing to do with it?”
Hojo tilted his head slightly, expression unreadable.
“...Interesting,” he murmured, more to himself than anything.
Shinra’s patience snapped.
“ Look at him. ”
With a single motion, Shinra gestured toward the bassinet where Cloud lay, bundled in soft blankets, staring up at the ceiling with that ever- present grumpy frown of his.
There was no doubt he had inherited that from Claudia.
Hojo stepped closer, peering down at the infant with far too much interest for Shinra’s liking.
Then Cloud blinked.
Hojo froze .
The glow was unmistakable.
For the first time since stepping into the room, Hojo actually looked genuinely caught off guard.
“Oh my,” the scientist muttered, adjusting his glasses. “Now that is fascinating.”
A deep, simmering rage coiled in Shinra’s chest.
The last thing he wanted was Hojo taking any kind of interest in his son. He could already see the gears turning in that twisted mind of his, the possibilities, the potential -
Cloud, as if sensing something was off, scrunched up his tiny face and let out a soft, displeased noise.
Shinra didn’t think a baby face could look so hateful before, but somehow, Cloud was pulling it off.
That ever- present scowl of his deepened, little brows furrowing as he glared at Hojo- actually glared , with an intensity that was almost comical coming from a newborn.
It was the exact same expression Claudia would make whenever she was barely restraining the urge to break someone’s nose.
Shinra had never been more proud .
Cloud had only been alive for a few months, and he already shared his parents' distaste for Hojo.
The scientist, however, seemed unaware- or perhaps simply unbothered - by the sheer amount of loathing being directed his way by an infant. He reached out, one bony finger moving to prod Cloud’s cheek as if he were some kind of specimen in a jar.
Shinra was already moving to swat his hand away, the turks already reaching for their weapons, but before he could-
There was a sudden, sharp crunch.
Hojo jerked back with a barely suppressed grunt, eyes wide in shock.
Cloud had caught his extended finger in his tiny fist…
…and crushed it.
A slow, heavy silence filled the room.
Shinra stared.
The Turks stared.
Hojo’s mouth twitched slightly as he flexed his fingers, clearly testing for broken bones.
Shinra almost laughed .
Cloud broke Hojo’s damn finger .
His son- his months- old, fragile , tiny son- had grabbed Hojo’s hand and crushed it like it was nothing.
Hojo, to his credit, managed to keep his composure, but there was a thin line of pain around his mouth. He looked like he wanted to wrench his hand away- violently- but one sharp glance at Shinra had him thinking twice .
The unspoken warning was clear :
If Hojo so much as bent Cloud’s arm the wrong way in an attempt to free himself, Shinra would personally cut his funding, burn his research, and throw him into the nearest Mako reactor.
After a long, tense moment, Shinra simply shrugged and reached over to gently pat Cloud’s tiny hand, his smirk both fond and smug.
“Strong grip,” he mused. “Takes after his mother.”
Hojo gave him a look - one that clearly conveyed just how much he wanted to strangle him.
Instead, the scientist turned his attention back to Cloud, flexing his hand with a muttered curse as he tried- and failed - to pry his finger free from the baby’s iron grip.
His tiny stormcloud showed no intention of letting go anytime soon, his pudgy little face set in a look of pure, hateful determination. The sheer intensity of it would have been amusing- if not for the way Hojo’s grimace deepened with every passing second.
Then, without warning, Cloud let out a tiny sneeze.
His fingers twitched- momentarily tightening just a little more on reflex.
Hojo grunted in pain, barely suppressing another curse.
And just like that, Cloud’s grip finally loosened from the momentary distraction.
Hojo pulled his hand back immediately, shaking it out with an irritated scowl, likely already calculating how long it would take for the bruising to fade. “I’m beginning to see why you called me,” he muttered.
Shinra did laugh then- low and quiet and far too satisfied.
Of course Little Cloud inherited his mother’s strength.
“Now,” Shinra said, tone light, but with a sharp edge beneath it. “Are you absolutely certain you had nothing to do with this?”
Hojo scowled, rubbing his sore hand. “No.”
Shinra held his gaze for a long moment, searching for any sign of deception.
Finally, with a slight nod, he let it go- for now.
Hojo straightened, his expression slipping back into something detached and clinical. “I’ll run tests,” he said begrudgingly. “Discreetly.”
“ Very discreetly,” Shinra agreed.
Because whatever was happening to his son-
He would find out.
And if anyone had done anything to Cloud-
There wouldn’t be a single place on this planet safe enough to hide from him.
Hojo was being run ragged.
It wasn’t an uncommon state for him- he lived and breathed his research, often working himself to the bone without sleep or sustenance. But this? This was an entirely different kind of exhaustion.
Because there were limits to what even he could get away with, and Cloud Strife- Shinra’s son, the most heavily guarded infant in the world- was a walking, babbling landmine of unspoken rules and deadly consequences.
Hojo had tried- really tried- to conduct his usual tests. Not invasive ones- he wasn’t that suicidal- but simple examinations. Blood tests, reflex responses, anything that could provide even the slightest insight into why a newborn’s eyes glowed . The only other time he had seen such a phenomenon was in his enhanced experiments- Sephiroth . The telltale mako shine, a marker of augmentation, yet this child had never undergone any such process.
And then there was the strength .
Hojo had heard the ridiculous saying about a baby’s grip being unnaturally strong, but what the Shinra brat had done was far beyond instinctive clinging. He had broken his damn finger. Hojo prided himself on scientific rationality, but even he had been momentarily stunned, cradling his injured hand in disbelief.
Shinra’s wife had been…cordial enough, indulging his ‘requests’ for samples. But Hojo found little comfort in that. The woman had an unsettling presence, her sharp eyes dissecting him in a way that made his fingers sweat- as if she were the one examining him. There was something in her gaze that made his fingers sweat and his tongue itch to confess all his sins. It was unnerving .
The only plausible theory he had managed to formulate thus far was that Cloud’s abnormalities stemmed from his mother’s hometown. Nibelheim housed one of the first Mako reactors- if there had been some level of spillage or prolonged environmental exposure, it was possible that trace amounts of Mako had entered the ecosystem. Perhaps it had been ingested over time in microscopic doses, leading to some unexpected genetic outcome?
But no reports had ever indicated such a phenomenon, and if that were the case, why was Cloud Strife the only one exhibiting these effects?
Claudia Strife certainly didn’t. She had no Mako glow, no visible mutations. Her strength- while notable- wasn’t abnormal by any scientific standard. Her hunting skills and agility were impressive, but nothing that warranted further study. The child , however, was a different matter.
Hojo was dying to examine him properly. To test his limits, push his body, understand if Cloud Strife was a naturally occurring enhanced human- something that even he had not yet achieved. He wanted to compare him to his creation, Sephiroth, to see if this child could be the missing piece in his research.
But alas.
Cloud Strife had the unfathomable luck of being born to the one man Hojo couldn’t exactly cross.
And Shinra was watching him like a hawk.
So were the Turks.
Hojo gritted his teeth.
If only some infants actually behaved like infants and cooperated .
Veld, the ever- watchful presence, was stationed just outside the door, his eyes as sharp as ever, catching Hojo's every move. Even if Veld wasn’t actively involved in the immediate operation, his mere presence was enough to remind the scientist that every step he took was being scrutinized. And Veld had very specific orders about not letting Hojo get too comfortable with Cloud, much to Hojo’s growing frustration.
Cloud Strife, the Shinra brat, was Hojo’s greatest obstacle.
Because Cloud- despite being an infant - seemed to hate him.
Shinra found the entire situation endlessly amusing, smugly claiming that his son had inherited his mother’s discerning nature. Hojo found it infuriating .
It didn’t help that Cloud was- objectively speaking- unfairly adorable.
And everyone knew it.
The moment he started crawling- far earlier than expected- it only got worse. Even Sephiroth had managed it at six months. The brat? Four and a half weeks . A record- breaking feat that would’ve been impressive if it weren’t actively making Hojo’s life a nightmare.
Because the first thing Cloud had decided to do with his newfound mobility was reach for Hojo’s papers. And shred them. With glee.
No formula, no calculations, no carefully scribbled notes were safe from the tiny menace .
The Turks, of course, had taken to babysitting duties with an alarming level of investment. There was an unspoken but vicious competition between them whenever they were off- duty. One of the older, quieter Turks had a knack for keeping Cloud entertained with games, while another had a talent for making him giggle far too much. A third tried to remain professional, but even he couldn’t resist when Cloud reached for him with those tiny hands, babbling nonsense that they all scrambled to interpret.
The worst part?
The brat knew what he was doing.
He had perfected the art of wide, bright- eyed looks- the kind that melted even the most hardened operatives. He babbled constantly , and the Turks fell over themselves trying to decipher every single noise.
And yet, the moment Hojo thought he might have a second of peace- when he foolishly believed the child had tired himself out- Cloud would turn towards him with a look of pure, unfiltered loathing and make his life a waking nightmare.
Hojo hadn’t even known a baby could look at someone like that.
Even Project S had been a wide- eyed, silent little thing when Hojo first met him. But this? This fake- angel little demon was something else entirely.
Hojo despised all of it.
He despised the constant interruptions. The sabotage. The utter lack of cooperation. The suffocating presence of the Turks, always breathing down his neck, scrutinizing every tiny movement he made.
And- above all- he despised that he couldn’t retaliate .
Because all it took was one wobble of Cloud’s lip, one glistening- eyed sniffle, and suddenly he had a barrel of a gun aimed at his face. More times than he could count.
Every. Single. Time.
And the worst insult?
Shinra- Shinra - would swoop in like the ever- doting father, scooping the brat up as if to soothe him.
Even when Hojo saw Cloud’s facade cracking, the brat’s so- called teary expression slipping just long enough to glare at Shinra before continuing his act- Shinra and everyone else remained blind .
It was infuriating.
And the brat was winning.
What was he even doing here if Shinra wouldn’t allow any tests that would actually yield results? He had been dragged away from his real work for months now, neglecting any progress he should have made on Project S. That fool Gast was probably having a field day in the labs without him there, filling the brat’s head with useless fantasies.
Reaching his limit, he finally snapped.
“This is pointless!” he growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “ All of my equipment- everything I need to properly test the child- is in the Shinra Mansion at Nibelheim! I can’t determine anything about his condition without the right resources!”
Silence followed his outburst.
Shinra was watching him carefully. The Turks, though outwardly relaxed, were just as alert.
And then, of all people, it was Claudia who spoke.
“…Nibelheim,” she murmured, almost thoughtfully.
She had been seated nearby, Cloud perched comfortably in her lap as he gnawed on one of his toys. At the mention of her hometown, she glanced down at their son, stroking his tiny head.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been home,” she admitted. Then, turning to her husband, she added, “We should go.”
Shinra raised an eyebrow. “Are you certain?”
Claudia smiled slightly. “I’ve been feeling a little homesick lately.”
It was as good a reason as any. And Shinra, despite knowing how much Claudia had enjoyed their private penthouse life, understood her well enough to see the truth behind her words.
She wanted to see her home again.
And she wanted Cloud to see it too.
Cloud was being readied for their trip to Nibelheim, his tiny hands reaching for his toys, his big eyes narrowing as he caught sight of Shinra. The baby’s glare was one of deep, pure displeasure. It was as though he could already tell the difference between the man who had raised him and the one who had clearly wronged him.
Shinra, ever the businessman, couldn’t help but chuckle nervously, wiping his brow. He glanced over at Claudia, a faint furrow of concern on his face. "I think... I think Cloud doesn't like me very much."
Claudia, her voice as calm and steady as always, shot him a reassuring smile. "If Cloud didn't like you, he would've crushed your fingers by now."
Shinra froze. He glanced down at his hand, then quickly back to Cloud. He could practically feel the baby’s dislike radiating from his tiny form. The thought of those small hands squeezing his fingers in a way that would make Hojo’s earlier injury look mild... well, it was enough to break a cold sweat.
But then, as his gaze turned toward Hojo- who was glaring back with equal disdain- Shinra's lips curled into a smug, almost triumphant smile. "Well, at least my son has some sense."
The flight to the Shinra Mansion was smooth, but it didn’t seem to sit well with Cloud. From the moment they had boarded, the infant’s small face had taken on a greenish hue, his wide eyes growing more and more distressed as the aircraft hummed along.
At first, Shinra thought it was just the new surroundings- the high altitude, the unfamiliar movement. But as the minutes ticked on, the little one’s discomfort seemed to escalate. Cloud squirmed, his tiny hands clutching at his belly, his face contorting as though he were experiencing the world’s greatest misfortune.
Claudia, ever the observant mother, leaned down to try and soothe him. But Cloud’s displeasure only seemed to deepen as the plane rocked gently, the mild turbulence not doing much to help. His head lolled to one side, and the frown on his face deepened with every passing second.
It was then that Hojo, seated at the farthest part of the plane- away from the family- seemed to notice something of interest. At first, he had kept to himself, mulling over his various thoughts about the baby and his peculiarities, but as soon as he saw the way Cloud’s little face scrunched up in obvious discomfort, a predatory gleam lit up in his eyes.
Shinra caught the shift in Hojo’s posture, his earlier smugness quickly fading into an uneasy wariness. Hojo, the man who couldn’t seem to get a decent result with Cloud, was now leaning forward ever so slightly, a sickening satisfaction creeping over his features. He was like a shark sensing blood in the water, finally believing he’d found his moment.
Cloud’s distress, Hojo thought, was a perfect opportunity for a test. With the baby too disoriented to pose a threat, surely now he could examine him without the risk of being mauled.
But Cloud, in a moment of divine retribution, decided to take matters into his own hands. With a sudden, sharp gurgle, he expelled the milk he had ingested, sending it flying with an almost eerie precision directly onto Hojo’s robe.
The look on Hojo’s face could only be described as one of stunned disbelief. For a moment, he simply stared, blinking as the milk soaked through the fine fabric of his robes.
Shinra, who had been silently watching, could only suppress a laugh, his lips twitching as he glanced at Claudia. But what caught his attention more than anything was the look in Cloud’s eyes- pure satisfaction, as though the baby had just pulled off the world’s most perfect prank.
Cloud did not miss motion sickness.
He hadn’t thought it was possible for it to be worse than what he had endured as an adult, but apparently, he had been wrong . Horribly, painfully wrong.
Being a baby meant he had no way to stabilize himself as the turbulence sent him into a relentless spiral of vertigo. His mother’s comforting presence- normally the one thing in the world that could soothe him- was utterly useless against the hellish sensation.
Not even Sephiroth, in all his inhuman strength, could hope to best Cloud as his one true nemesis had: a moving vehicle.
If there was any silver lining to this absolute nightmare, it was the little stunt he had pulled with Hojo.
It had been a perfect, calculated attack. His mother and Shinra had long since switched him to bottle- feeding after he adamantly refused to nurse past his first month. Waking up to his mother’s- ahem - well, the experience had been horrifying . He had gone on a full- blown hunger strike until they finally gave in, and Shinra- being Shinra- had thrown absurd amounts of money at the problem.
The milk he drank now was probably worth enough gil to feed a family of five for half a year .
And he had wasted it.
By projectile vomiting it directly onto Hojo.
It had been a thing of beauty . His aim had been a little off- he’d wanted to get the bastard’s face, but alas, his motor skills still needed work- but it was worth it just to see the absolute suffering in Hojo’s eyes.
Small victories.
The moment they stepped off the aircraft, Cloud felt the familiar chill of his hometown settle over him.
The air was crisp, cool, and refreshing- so different from the oppressive smog of Midgar. He had spent years longing for this place, aching for it, mourning it. But standing here now, in the body of an infant, the feeling was almost unreal .
His sharp blue eyes flicked toward the gathered soldiers standing at attention. Normal infantry, from the looks of it. They saluted with trained precision the moment they spotted Shinra, standing stiff and disciplined as their employer passed without so much as a glance.
Cloud merely observed from the safety of his mother’s arms.
Because there was no way in hell he was letting Shinra carry him.
Unfortunately, his mother was a mischievous, sadistic woman- one who clearly enjoyed making him suffer in the most loving way possible.
So, despite his very clear protests, she handed him over to Shinra's grubby hands anyway.
Cloud let out an indignant squawk, tiny hands grasping at her clothes in betrayal, but she only smiled, patting his little head like this was all so very amusing.
Shinra, for his part, had the audacity to look smug as he adjusted his grip, bouncing Cloud slightly when he fussed at the transfer.
Cloud scowled, stiff in his father’s hold, reluctantly accepting his fate.
For now.
Stepping into the looming Shinra mansion, Cloud looked at it with a frown. It was just as he remembered- grand, empty, and far too quiet. The kind of silence that pressed in from all sides, heavy with things left unsaid. The old wooden floors barely creaked beneath their steps, the candlelight flickered lazily along the walls, and the faint scent of dust and chemicals lingered in the air.
Cloud wasn’t sure if the chill he felt came from the Nibelheim air or the knowledge of what had been done in this place.
But of all things, it was Hojo who stood out the most.
The man had spent the last few months sulking, snapping at anyone who wasted his time and treating his separation from his labs like a personal offense. But now? Now he practically had a spring in his step. His usual irritated scowl was replaced by something close to eagerness as he strode down the hall like he had been freed from captivity.
He wasted no time barking orders at the unfortunate lab assistants who had come to greet them.
“You, set up the examination room. I want everything sterilized and ready within the hour.Where is my equipment?! I expect everything to be in its proper place! If even one of my samples has been mishandled- ”
Cloud had no sympathy for the ones scrambling after him.
They knew who they worked for.
His mother’s arms tightened slightly around him, a silent reassurance. He didn’t need it, but the warmth was welcome anyway.
Shinra clicked his tongue, his gaze lingering on the direction Hojo had disappeared, a look of mild disapproval crossing his face. “Uncouth,” he muttered, voice dripping with disdain. “The man has no sense of decorum.”
Cloud almost snorted. That was putting it lightly.
But Shinra didn’t linger on the thought for long. Just as easily, he turned back to Claudia, expression smoothing out as if he hadn’t just insulted one of his most important scientists.
“There’s a room prepared for you both to rest,” he said warmly, voice shifting into something softe as he gave Cloud back to his rightful place.
Then, in a gesture Cloud had come to expect, Shinra leaned in to press a kiss to Claudia’s cheek before turning to him. A smirk tugged at his lips as he reached out, ruffling Cloud’s hair with far too much amusement.
Cloud made a noise of protest, wrinkling his nose as he swatted at the offending hand with tiny, uncoordinated fingers.
Shinra only chuckled, utterly unbothered. “Behave for your mother.”
Cloud hated how amused he sounded.
With a final nod to the waiting servants, Shinra gestured for them to lead Claudia and Cloud to their room.
Cloud- still huffing from the unwanted hair- ruffling and parental affection- squirmed slightly before settling against his mother’s shoulder as the two bid farewell and his mother followed the servant to their room.
Cloud glanced back, watching from over Claudia’s shoulder, staring at the man who had ruined billions of lives and drained the planet dry.
It was still difficult to believe- that this was the same ruthless businessman who had orchestrated the slow, creeping destruction of the world. Maybe not with his own hands, but it had been his will that set everything into motion. His legacy had haunted the planet long after he was gone.
And yet, this was the same man who had just kissed his wife’s cheek and teased his son like some ordinary, doting father.
Cloud couldn’t reconcile the two.
His nose scrunched.
If he had been an ignorant little baby- one without years of painful knowledge lodged in his skull- he might have assumed that the fatherly Shinra he had come to know over the past few months had an evil, power- hungry twin lurking in the shadows.
Even in the penthouse where he had spent his earliest months, Shinra’s demeanor had always been sharp, ruthless with everyone but them. The contrast had been strange then. It was even stranger now.
He blinked as he watched Shinra lose the warmth in his expression, his easygoing air shedding from him like a second skin. His posture straightened, shoulders squaring as the effortless charm drained from his face, leaving behind only cold calculation. As if the man he had been mere seconds ago had never existed at all.
Cloud stared.
The transformation was almost unnatural as he saw the complete transformation. One second, Shinra had been ruffling his hair like some goofy dad, chuckling as Cloud swatted at his hand with all the strength his chubby baby fingers could muster. And now? Now he looked like he was about to negotiate a corporate takeover.
Cloud continued to stare, utterly bewildered.
This was his sperm donor? This man? The same one who let Claudia kiss his forehead like he was some beloved husband, who had once let Cloud drool on his stupid expensive suit as he orders his turk without blinking? The one who had, just a week ago, willingly spent an hour making faces at him to get him to laugh?
Now he was shedding all of that like it was nothing, like it was some costume he could take off at will.
Cloud could practically see the nervous sweat gathering at the man’s brow, the way his hands twitched at his sides like he wasn’t sure if he should clasp them behind his back or keep them visible- probably to prove he wasn’t holding anything that could possibly offend the President’s delicate sensibilities.
Shinra turned toward him, his entire focus shifting.
The man immediately dipped his head in greeting, his entire body language screaming please don’t fire me, please don’t fire me, please don’t fire me.
Cloud, still watching from over Claudia’s shoulder, would have laughed if he could. Shinra wasn’t even doing anything, and the guy already looked like he was five seconds away from fainting.
The conversation faded as they rounded the corner, but Cloud had already seen enough.
…Maybe that’s why Rufus had daddy issues.
Claudia hummed a soft tune as she moved about the room, waving off any servants who attempted to assist her. “Thank you, but I’ve got it from here,” she said, her tone warm yet firm. The servants hesitated for only a moment before bowing and stepping away, leaving the mother and child alone- aside from the ever- watchful Turks stationed near the door.
Cloud, still in her arms, peeked at them with mild interest before deciding they weren’t worth his attention. Instead, he focused on his mother as she carried him toward the window, settling him comfortably against her as she gazed out at the quiet mountain town below.
“There we go, Cloudy,” she murmured, brushing a gentle hand through his hair. “This is Nibelheim.”
Cloud blinked, looking out as well, eyes scanning the familiar rooftops and winding paths of his hometown. The sight was unchanged from his memories- cold, misty, and nestled within the mountains like a forgotten relic of the past.
“You must be curious about it,” Claudia mused, pressing a kiss to his temple. “About where you come from.”
She wasn’t wrong.
Not that Cloud could exactly ask any questions right now.
Still, he listened intently as Claudia began speaking, her voice taking on that fond, nostalgic lilt.
She told him about her life in Nibelheim, how she had always been seen as somewhat of an outcast. “I suppose I never quite fit in,” she admitted with a small chuckle. “I had aspirations that most here frowned upon. A woman dreaming of more than just marriage and child- rearing? Scandalous, I know.”
Cloud made a tiny noise, the best scoff he could manage in his current form.
“Oh, don’t you start,” Claudia teased, tapping his nose lightly. “I did try, you know. I thought I found the man of my dreams once- he was a traveler, got himself injured, and I helped him recover.”
Cloud blinked, intrigued despite himself.
“I thought, maybe … but then, once he healed, he left without a word.” She sighed, shaking her head. “So, I chose isolation instead. Moved deeper into the mountains. I figured if people didn’t want me, then I didn’t want them either.”
She smiled wryly before continuing, “And then he came along.”
Cloud stiffened. He knew where this was going.
“I met your father much the same way,” she said with a giggle. “Injured, lost, and clearly in need of some sense knocked into him. I tried to be as cold as possible- really, I did! But he was… persistent, and determined to win my heart.”
Cloud’s tiny face twisted, morphing from wide- eyed wonder to pure, undisguised disgust at the mere mention of his father. His little nose scrunched up, his tiny mouth pressed into what was probably meant to be a firm line, but in reality, just made him look even more baby-like.
Claudia laughed. “Oh, Cloudy, why do you always make that face when I talk about him?” she cooed, running her fingers through his hair. “You really don’t like your father, do you?”
Cloud very purposefully turned his head away from her, choosing instead to glare at a particularly unoffending corner of the ceiling. Claudia giggled. “You remind me of myself, you know,” she mused. “I didn’t like him at first either.”
Cloud groaned internally.
“But he was persistent,” she continued, her tone teasing. “Determined to win me over, no matter how cold I was to him.”
Cloud resisted the urge to roll his eyes. If she was about to tell some sappy love story about President Shinra, he might actually try to put himself back to sleep right now.
Then, Claudia tilted her head, regarding him thoughtfully.
“Maybe that’s just what he has to do with you, too.”
Cloud’s eyes snapped back to her, filled with nothing short of absolute horror.
Oh. Oh no.
“Wouldn’t that be funny?” she said with a soft laugh. “Your father proving himself to you just like he did with me?”
No. No, it wouldn’t be funny. That would be a nightmare.
Claudia must have mistaken the sheer bewilderment on his face for something else because she giggled again and kissed his forehead.
“Well, I suppose we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we?”
Cloud silently vowed to never let that happen.
Claudia continued to rock him gently, her voice soft as she spoke of her past, her life here in Nibelheim as a child, and that maybe they should visit their home in the mountain one of these days after everything is done. Cloud’s little brain was processing it all, absorbing the warmth of her voice and the comfort of her presence.
But as the minutes passed, something else began to creep up on him. Stupid baby body, betraying him yet again.
He tried to stay awake, tried to hold onto the flood of thoughts and questions swirling in his head. But his eyelids were getting heavier, his tiny fists struggling to maintain their grip on his curiosity.
Claudia noticed immediately. “Oh, none of that,” she tutted, shifting him in her arms as she moved toward the rocking chair in the corner. “No use fighting it, Cloudy.”
Cloud scowled, trying his hardest to stay alert. He wasn’t done—there was so much to understand! But as she settled into the chair and cradled him close, he could feel the exhaustion sinking deeper into his tiny bones.
She took a baby bottle and gently pressed it to his lips, and that was it.
Claudia hummed a soft Nibelheim song, rocking him gently as the warmth from the bottle and her steady rhythm began to work their magic. Despite himself, despite his best efforts to stay awake, sleep began to claim him.
One last, stubborn huff of protest escaped him before his little eyes fluttered shut, and his mother's melody carried him away.