[FIC] Love Love Pyramid-chan, MA15+, FFVII/Naruto

[jingdono.livejournal.com]

Title: Love Love Pyramid-chan -- Part One
Author: jingdono with a lot of help from khukuri
Fandoms: (or Spoilers and Utter Lies for) FFVII/Advent Children/Last Order, Naruto
Rating: For Mature Audiences
Warnings: Coarse Language, Adult Themes, and Content That May Disturb Some Readers (mostly just coarse language at the moment)
Genre: parody, very AU
Characters: Sephiroth, Orochimaru, Kabuto
Summary: "I am going to take you all downstairs," Sephiroth told the basket of stuff, "and then I am going to set you on fire. Or, perhaps, I shall wad you into a giant ball and set that on fire, and then launch it into space."

A 'What If Sephiroth Was One Of Us?' story set in in a world where nothing very terrrible really happened to anyone and the Greatest Villains Of All Time spend most of their time drinking themselves stupid and waxing about the Glory Days.




It was morning.

Surprisingly, Sephiroth did not mind this. For once he had gone to bed early and woken around six, with the sun beaming through the curtains and birds chirping on the fire escape outside his window. He threw a shoe at them. It ricocheted off the window frame and whizzed back past his head, defying the laws of physics, to explode an old coffee cup and mould farm he had been using as an ashtray.

The result was like a small natural disaster.

For some reason this cheered him up. He got out of bed, wiped himself down with the sheets, and stuffed them straight into the laundry basket. Then he swept everything on the bedside table into the bin, and threw the bin out the window. It made a satisfying whistle and crash somewhere below. Ha, thought Sephiroth. I totally rule.

Humming merrily, Sephiroth wandered around his flat shoving things into the laundry basket; actual rubbish, old bills, half-eaten packets of crisps, the remote control that hadn't worked since Orochimaru tried changing the battery, and the remains of a vindaloo that had been there since Zax moved out.

"I am going to take you all downstairs," he told the basket of stuff, "and then I am going to set you on fire. Or, perhaps, I shall wad you into a giant ball and set that on fire, and then launch it into space."

He tidied the kitchen by throwing nearly everything away, including the electric frypan because it had given him seven shocks of increasing strength in this month alone, and he was feeling apprehensive about the future. He even emptied the bathroom cabinet and sprayed the last of a bottle of bleach on the tiles. Leaving them 'to soak', he dragged his overflowing laundry basket out into the corridor and was immediately ambushed.

"Where are you going with that, young man?" It was Mrs Gibbons. She was ninety-five years old with purple hair, an impressive moustache, and a hat stuck through with enough hairpins to start a major international incident. Sephiroth was terrified of her. She kept accusing him of being German and wanting to molest her. He wasn't sure how the two were related but it was a scary thought all the same.

"I, uh ... I was just ... going to donate it to charity," he lied creatively. Pretty good for six-twenty am. Genius.

Mrs Gibbons glared at him suspiciously. "You're donating half a tube of toothpaste and a mouldy shower curtain to charity?"

"Yes." He said it with as much conviction as he could muster, feeling it was important not to waver.

"Humph." She stood there, watching him, not saying anything. It was distinctly uncomfortable.

"I ... I'll just ..." Sephiroth stammered, and then vanished back into his flat, slamming the door behind him. "I'll just be in here," he shouted through the door.

Maybe if he waited long enough she would go away.

After a minute or so he checked the fisheye.

She was still there.

Fine, he thought. I used to be a General. I was THE BEST. General Sephiroth Jenovasson, SOLDIER first class and rightful Heir to the Planet. I don't need to be intimidated by a little old lady. Anyway, I can go out the window.

He did so, climbing up the fire escape and tapping on Orochimaru's window. "Oro-kun! Mrs Gibbons is in the hall again! And I need a coffee, for serious gawd!" The window slid open a fraction to show a familiar pair of glasses. "Ah, Kabuto-chan. Make your uncle a coffee."

Kabuto did the thing with his glasses that meant he was annoyed. "Is there a coffee shortage at the shops, ojiisan? Do you need me to draw you a map?"

"You know, we aren't actually Japanese," Sephiroth pointed out. "We probably don't need to do this ... I dunno ... word insult thing."

"You started it," Kabuto said with supreme maturity, but he shrugged and pulled the window all the way open.

The upstairs flat was much nicer than Sephiroth's, probably because he didn't live there. They had actual carpet, as opposed to a solid mat of cigarette ash and spilled cordial. The furniture was visible rather than buried beneath layers of items in varying stages of uselessness. The bathroom smelled ever so slightly minty.

And Kabuto was growing cress on wads of cotton wool cradled loving in the divots of an egg carton. Actually, given that the egg carton had a colourful texta-pen dragon face sticky-taped to the front of it, the cress probably belonged to Orochimaru. And probably wasn't cress.

"You've got mould on you," Kabuto said calmly, putting on the kettle.

This was true. "Oh."

"You're letting yourself go, gensui-sama." Kabuto handed him a paper towel. "Mould is one of the first signs of senility."

"There was a minor biohazard-ical incident this morning," Sephiroth said loftily, wiping his face. "I've taken care of it. No need for alarm."

Kabuto smirked. "Did your carpet try to assimilate you again? I offered to lend you the vacuum."

"Shut up, Kabuki-chan," Sephiroth snapped. "I had a disadvantaged childhood, you know. I never learned to look after myself."

"Mmmm." Kabuto handed him a mug of coffee. "And I grew up in the Hidden Village of the Blithering Idiot, which was entirely normal."

Sephiroth gave him a narrow look. "How did that happen, anyway? I've always been curious."

"Well, I was at the park, and a man wearing a sack held up with rope said, 'Hey, little boy, I've got snakes in my belly, want to see?' " Kabuto gazed reflectively into the distance. "My parents warned me about strange men bearing lollies and toys but they never said anything about snakes. Oh well. At least I got the run of the evil genetics laboratory. And some interesting pets."

"I was made in a vat," Sephiroth confided.

Kabuto rolled his eyes, putting the finishing touches on a salad sandwich and packing it away in a lunchbox. "Yes, you tell me so every time you drink too much. And I fail to see how that's possible when your mother comes around every couple of months and gives you money. I mean, what is with that?"

"It's complicated," Sephiroth told him huffily, and was rescued from further comment by the sudden noisy arrival of an Orochimaru, or rather by a persistent banging on the door and a familiar ingratiating rasp from the hallway that signalled the arrival of an Orochimaru.

"Kabuto ... Kabuto-chan ... Otoosan can't find his keys ... Kabuto-chan ... I know you're in there ... I can taste you..."

Kabuto yelled back, "Stop licking the door!" but got up to let him in.

He was very drunk. Sephiroth was both disgusted and jealous -- quarter to seven and pissed already? Impressive.

Swaying, Orochimaru tried to hug Kabuto, nuzzling him like a ... well, like a very friendly python. "Kabuto-chan ... you're so good to me. I don't deserve such a loving son."

"No, you don't," Kabuto told him crossly. "Look, fuck off, I'm going to work. Here, drink this." He shoved a small ceramic bottle at Orochimaru. "Make sure you drink it all."

"Ooooh, is it sake?" Orochimaru licked his lips creepily. "So thoughtful..." He cradled it like a baby.

"Hangover cure?" Sephiroth asked quietly.

Kabuto gave him a sly look. "Not 'cure'." He smirked. "Later, ojiisan." And he left.

"Kabuto-chan!" Orochimaru wailed. "You didn't kiss Otoosan goodbye! Oh well, I suppose I still have you, sake-sake-chan."

Sephiroth watched in fascinated horror as Orochimaru sculled his sake-sake-chan, went bright green, lurched to the bathroom, and threw up. A lot.

"Do you need some water?" Sephiroth asked, making the 'I'll help you so long as I don't have to touch you' face.

Copious vomiting noises, he decided, meant yes. He filled a jug, marvelling at the way the jug was already clean and he didn't have to scrub it out with a pumice stone, and left it like an offering by the bathroom door.

"I'll just help myself to the contents of your fridge," he called out, and did so.

By the time he started cooking the bacon, Orochimaru had emerged from the bathroom deathly pale (as per usual) and miserably clutching his water jug. "Do you know where Kabuto keeps the Panadeine Forte (tm)?" he rasped.

"No," Sephiroth told him gleefully. "No idea at all."

"You could go get some aspirin from your place," Orochimaru pleaded.

"I just threw all mine out," Sephiroth told him.

Orochimaru looked horrified, or maybe just horrible. "Why on earth? You know they make pigeons explode."

"That is an urban myth, don't be so gullible. Anyway, I tried and it doesn't work."

"I know I exploded a pigeon once," Orochimaru protested weakly.

Sephiroth nodded. "Yes, you did. I was there. But I think it was the firecracker that exploded it, not the aspirin. Eggs?" He offered Orochimaru a steaming plate of eggs, and Orochimaru suddenly remembered something he'd left in the bathroom. "I'll save some for you," Sephiroth told the bathroom door.

* * * * *

"Why did you throw out all your aspirin?" Orochimaru asked some time later. They had eaten the eggs and the bacon, and Sephiroth had cheered Orochimaru up by getting out one of the baby mice Kabuto kept in a shoebox under the kitchen sink. Orochimaru was gently torturing it by holding it up by the tail and staring at it predatorily.

"I'm having a clean phase," Sephiroth said cheerfully, and told Orochimaru about his morning.

"Oh. That would be why I found your keys and your wallet outside in the road just now. I thought it was odd at the time, but I was drunk. Everything is a bit weird when you're drunk."

"When were you going to tell me?"

"I wasn't. I was going to go back to the pub and drink the contents of your wallet and then let myself into your flat later and lick you in places you can't even imagine. Like your eyeballs."

Sephiroth winced. "Don't. Don't even joke."

"Who's joking?" Orochimaru grinned. Sephiroth always found this disturbing, but then again people said the same thing about his grin, so, well. "The inside of your ear ... no, I mean REALLY the inside. Of your brain."

"Never speak again." Sephiroth held out a hand.

Orochimaru looked at it. "What?"

"Wallet. Keys."

"Oh, that. Them. Those. Thing. There you go. Urgh, I feel awful. Fucking Kabuto."

Sephiroth gave him a prim look. "Well, maybe if you had been a better kidnapper then he wouldn't have so many issues. You should have hugged him more. Children need love!"

"I gave him love," Orochimaru argued.

"You gave him snakes."

"Snakes are love!"

"They bloody are not. Do you have a paper?" Orochimaru pointed at the bookcase. "No, a newspaper."

Orochimaru shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not usually awake or sober at this time of the day. Maybe Kabuto does get the paper and then fashions it into a delightful origami, which he sails down the river on his way to the hospital. Maybe we don't get the paper. Who knows?"

Sephiroth investigated the coffee-table, the recycling, and the kitchen bench next to the phone. No newspaper. Hopeful, he investigated the space outside the front door. No newspaper.

There was, however, a newspaper on the doorstep two doors down.

And no-one would miss it, would they?

Well, Sephiroth had to admit, yes, they probably will, I mean, someone is going to want to read it and it won't be there.

But no-one would know that he was responsible.

"Oh," Orochimaru said, as he came back in, "so we do get the paper?"

"Hmm? Yes, yes, something, something. Ah-hah!" Sephiroth made stabbing motions at the classifieds. "Look! It's there! Excellent."

'It' turned out to be an ad. ROOM 2 RENT, it said. SGM SEEKING FLATMATE FOR FUN TIMES COSY 3RD FLR FLAT NEAR PLUB AND CHEMIST RENT NEG

"Are you moving?" Orochimaru asked.

"No, I'm looking for someone to fill up the spare room. That's why I'm cleaning. Now that bloody Zax's gone I can make some new friends. Who don't try to lick the inside of my brain."

"What's a 'plub'?"

"What? Shit. I meant 'pub'. That's obvious, don't you think?"

Orochimaru grinned. "I think 'plub' sounds fascinating. Why does it say SGM? Is that a sort of gun?"

"No. It's 'Single Grey Male'. Because I thought, well, I'm not really white," and Sephiroth inspected the ends of his hair. "More a sort of silver. Uh, I should have put SSM, then. Damnit."

"It looks more like 'Single Gay Male'."

"No it doesn't!"

Orochimaru laughed softly. "I can't wait to see the weirdos who apply for this. Why don't you just do what I did? Find someone likely and, you know, don't give him a chance to say no."

Sephiroth rolled his eyes. "And that worked out so well for you. Poor Kabuto. Look, it's not too late. Why don't you take him to the circus?" He was having another one of his moments of brilliance. "You could check out the freak show or ... or ... well, I suppose he's seen all that before."

"Did I ever tell you about the time he gave me those conjoined foetuses in a jar?" Orochimaru sighed. "I was so proud of him."

"Where did he get them?"

"No idea, does it matter? Everyone likes gifts you make yourself."

Sephiroth made a face. "But the circus, still. That's genius. Genius! And I could come too. And we could bake him a cake!"

Orochimaru nodded. "This is an incredibly good idea. You know, I think we ought to rendezvous at the plub and discuss it further."

"I thought you were hungover now."

"I'm feeling a lot better," Orochimaru admitted. "Come on, it's your round. Go put on a shirt."

* * * * *

"And, and, and," Sephiroth babbled, "he said I embarrassed him in front of people! Can you imagine? What the fuck does that mean? I was always ... doing my best ... to just ... and ... but ..." and then he burst into tears.

"Oh God," Orochimaru groaned, patting him unsympathetically. "I always tell you this is where your sodding brothers get it from. Weepy bloody drunk. Remind me why I hang out with you again."

Sephiroth sobbed something into his hands.

"That's right. And you helped me hide the body, too. Huh." He looked around to see if anyone was watching. People would often stare at a six-foot tall Japanese man with knee-length silver hair crying in the corner of a bar. Orochimaru thought it was funny and liked to make faces at them.

"Listen," he said. "Listen. To this. Now. Now ... circus! We should go and bake that cake for Kabuto. At your place because then it will be a surplise. Sur-plise. Suurrrrrrrrrr ... thing. Come on. I'll give you a piggy-back."

* * * * *

"Wheredidthisvodkacomefrom? I'velostmykeys. Oh. Thanks. Wheredidthis... vodka ... where?"

"I can't rememberer. Areyou sure it's vodga? Vodka. Vodka?"

"WHEREISALLMYSTUFF?! IcanseetheFLOOR! Whassat? WHOTOOKZAX'SVINDALOO?!!!"

"You ... cleansed. Cleansed. Thing. Cleansed. Rememberer?"

"Urgh ... WhydoIhaveallthisflour? Andcakemix. Who ... what? Oven."

"Let's call Kabuto-chan. Let's call him. It's only three and he'll be home, I know he'll be. Home. Let'scallhim."

"Nooooooo, surprise cake!"

"SURPLISE! I'm calling him. KABUTO! KABUTO-CHAN! Cake! And circus. Surplise! Don't tell Kabuto-chan."

"Don'ttellKabuto!"

"I won't! Kabuto-chan ... Otoosan loves you very much, and-- oh, it cut out. I'll ring him again."

"Fuckingvodkawhydidwegetvodka ... itwon'tgointhecake! Bowl? Fuckingshitbugger."

"His phone's not working, it must be bloken. Bloke. En. Bloken. That lymes. Rhymes."

"OVEN! Howdoyouworktheoven? Idon'tknow. Ithinkithasanonswitchheeeeeeeeeeere. Somewhere"

"I wonder how far away the roof is?"

"Shoulditbehotyet?"

"Maybe I should go ask Kabuto."

"FuckingcigaretteIcan'tfindmylighter."

"Kabuto will know where your lighter is."

"Thisisn'tgettinghot. Thiscakeisnogood. It'sallsoggy. AndIcan'tfindmylighter."

"Kabuto will know. Things. About cooking. Where's the vodga?"

"WHYISN'TITGETTINGHOTYET? IPUTITONANDIT'SNOTHOTYET! WHYDOESEVERYONEHATEME? ITRIEDTOBEAGOODSOLDIERLIKEJASONTODDANDLOOKATMYFUCKINGLIFE!!!!!"

"Did you? Light it? Did you light it?"

"IturneditON. Whatmoredoyouwantfromme!"

"Isn't it gas?"

"What? Idon'tknow. Itwiddledtheknobthingthatsoundsrudebutit'snot."

"Doesn't that just make gases come out?"

"ISAIDIDON'TKNOW! Heymylighter! Awesome!"

"You're holding that cigalette the wrong way alound. LOUND."

"SHUTUP! Ihavecigarettenowthentalkwithyourtalktalkthing."

"... is it just me or does it taste weird in here?"

BOOOOOM.

* * * * *

"I don't want to sound queer or anything," said Sephiroth, "but I think fire is very romantic."

"You are queer," Orochimaru told him. "You're strange."

They were sitting outside on a low wall where the firemen had insisted they stay. Orochimaru was bundled up in several blankets looking singed and cross. His skin was starting to crinkle up around the edges, which was going to make him very annoyed as soon as he found out about it. Sephiroth was himself quite sooty and had somehow managed to tear his shirt in an attractive and revealing fashion -- actually it made him look like a ponce, but that was not in itself out of the ordinary.

"Sobering, really," Orochimaru said in a thoughtful tone, which was quite out of the ordinary. He picked a bit of peeling skin off the back of his hand, examined it for a moment, and then let it drift off in the wind.

"You mean because we've survived another catastrophe and it reminds you of how fleeting and beautiful life is, and now you think you might make the most of it instead of getting drunk all the time and lounging around on the floor playing Nintendo?" Sephiroth sighed. "You're probably right. You know, I think I should quit my job and go to fireman school. If there is one. I'd make a great fireman. I'm already flame retardant."

"You're flame retarded," Orochimaru sniggered.

Sephiroth ignored that. "No, I really think it's amazing. I mean, that was a massive fireball. We should be proud."

"Fireballs never work." Orochimaru picked at his skin crossly. "If I had a dollar for every time some punk pulled out a Ryuuka no Jutsu and it did bugger all and he ended up dead in a tree with no legs I'd have," and he paused, "enough for a beer. Beer. Let's go to the plub."

"Oh, is that what you meant by sobering?" Sephiroth stood up, stretched, and yawned. "Maybe I'll just go to bed."

"Your bed is on fire," Orochimaru pointed out. "I don't care how flame retardant you are, your bed is on fire. That can't be good for your back."

"True," Sephiroth admitted. "Pub, then?"

"Plub it is. Oh look, there's Kabuto-chan. Hey!" He waved. "Kabuto-chan. Otoosan is all right! Don't worry!"

"I don't think he's worried," Sephiroth said cautiously. "I think he's pissed off, actually. Probably because we burned his cake. Come on, I'll race you to the pub. Last one there buys the first round."

The sun was rising in the east, though the effect was ruined somewhat by the smoke and all the flashing lights on the emergency vehicles. It was, Sephiroth thought, going to be another marvellous day. How lovely.

* * * totally not THE END * * *