Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sephiroth signed the paperwork carefully, the scratch of the fountain pen quietly undermining the fury in the room.

His gaze was cool steel as the Science Department Heads filed out, most of the ShinRa executives following with a non-verbal tut-tut-what-a-shame.

Director Veld took the manila folder and tucked it under his arm. The Director of the Turks held his gaze for a moment before closing the door with a tiny smile. Mrs. Strife did a victory dance while holding Cloud's hands. That's when he broke down.

He sobbed, tears clouding his vision until he felt warmth engulfing him. Mrs. Strife, his guardian until he turned 18. Seven years of blissful warmth after so many in glacial cold.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou…" He whispered as he swiped at his face with the back of his hand.

"It was the least I could do," she replied. "You can call me Anika if you like? Whatever you're comfortable with, Sephiroth."

"… Can I call you-" He froze, suddenly feeling like this was the warmest dream he'd had in months. Sephiroth pinched himself and winced at the pain.

"Mama, is Seph my brother now?" Cloud piped up from his spot near Sephiroth's thigh.

"If he doesn't mind," She murmured as she stroked back one of Cloud's ridiculous spikes.

"I don't mind," He paused, gathering the courage to face one stupid little fear. He could do this; he'd faced Behemoths and lived to talk about it. This was nothing.

So why did three simple letters get glued to the roof of his mouth? Why couldn't he be grown-up? He'd managed it well enough three weeks ago, mouthed in front of the tiny bathroom mirror.

It felt like an eternity had passed but Mrs. Strife was a sturdy presence at his side. Cloud was using his pant-leg as a swing.

"Sephiroth?" She gently cupped his cheek but didn't force him to look up. "Honey, it’s okay if you can't decide right now."

"I've never had this." Well, he guessed it was easier to just let loose the bubbling feeling in his chest. "It's all I've ever wanted and I can't even call you Mom to your face when I’ve been practicing for weeks now-"

Mrs. Strife hummed as she pulled her hand away and offered another hug. "That's a lot to hold in. D'you mind if I call you Seph? Just between Storm Cloud 'n I?"

"I like it. You're not mad?" He snuggled close, his face in the crook of her neck, the smell of food and snow-cinnamon-hearth rolling over his senses.

"No. I was hoping for at least a 'Miss Anika' but this is nice too." She admitted. "Better. So, Mama or just Mom?"

"Mom, so you can tell Cloud and I apart, I think." He answered shyly.

"Alright then, Mr. Strife and Mr. Strife. Time we head for dinner rush, hmm?" She nudged Sephiroth's shoulder with a smile.

"It's Lt. Strife, Mom." He complained.

For the first time in a long time, he was just like everyone else.

Chapter Text

He swung his legs out of bed, feet touching the ground as he half-turned to check where Cloud was on instinct. Sephiroth had PT followed by breakfast. He twisted his hair into a top knot, registering the faint scent of his brother.

When he skidded into formation, there were two new SOLDIERs Third Class being presented to the ranks.

"These two made it into the SOLDIER program. Please welcome Lt.s Hewley and Rhapsodos to the fold!" Major Wolf ordered sharply. "Take your places beside Lt. Se-Strife. The only one with silver hair."

Sephiroth only sighed as the new Lt.s gave him raised brows.

"Before you ask, yes, it's natural, no I don't dye it and yes, the carpet matches the drapes if you want to be crude." He rattled off in a bored tone as Major Wolf took them through morning PT. When formation broke, Major Wolf waved him over. "Yes sir?"

"Guide these two through a typical day and try not to scare them off like you did the last three." Wolf sighed as he scraped a hand through salt-and-pepper hair.

"Sir, I was supposed to watch my brother today." He countered quietly.

"Right, right. The little one that belongs to Head Chef Strife. Take him along if you have to but report back here at 1900 hrs." Major Wolf grumbled. "This just came down from higher up so I apologize."

One of the few men who didn't fear staring Sephiroth in the eye, he had what some in the program called a 'soft spot' for Sephiroth and generally made allowances where most men would get smoked*.

"Yes sir. Rhapsodos, Hewley, you're with me. I'm walking you through a typical day of a SOLDIER Third Class. We're eating first, if you don't mind." He turned to the new pair and found them watching him.

This was more than likely going two ways; one, he'd have to prove himself or two, they would dismiss him out of hand for being an 11-year-old boy in ShinRa's Army.

"How old are you?" Lt. Rhapsodos asked as they started walking towards the kitchen.

"Eleven." Sephiroth said flatly as he waited for the derision to start.

"Eleven. Huh. Well, we can't say much, considering we're thirteen," Lt. Hewley offered as they walked beside him, one on either side. "You said something about a brother?"

"Mom said that he shouldn't be in the kitchen today," Sephiroth mentioned. "She's making Junon Spice Kick and he's too little for the stuff they're handling."

"Wait, your Mom works at ShinRa? And they let you in the program?" Rhapsodos blurted incredulously.

"Adopted Mom. I've been at ShinRa since before I can remember," Sephiroth countered coldly.

"Oh." Rhapsodos fell back, his expression somewhere between horror and pity.

"What's she like?" Hewley changed the subject quickly, somehow understanding that the topic was unwanted.

"Warm but no nonsense. She runs the kitchen like it's her own personal army," he smiled softly at the memory of being in the kitchen at its busiest time. "Cloud should be just outside the-"

"Seph!" Cloud barreled into his legs. Sephiroth chuckled softly as he scooped Cloud up and settled his brother on his hip. "Mama brought out these teeny peppers an' told me that I couldn't touch 'em. Breakfast is that way…"

Cloud chattered away, his hold on Sephiroth's uniform like an iron clamp.

"Lt. Strife," the staff were smiling at Cloud, which ruined the semi-serious atmosphere that Sephiroth tried not to bring with him. "Cloud."

Lt. Hewley and Lt. Rhapsodos followed Sephiroth to one of the empty tables and watched as he cut Cloud’s food by habit.

"Seph, I got it." Cloud pouted.

"Alright, if you say so." He dug into his meal, glancing from time-to-time to see Cloud's tongue sticking out as he sawed at the potatoes on his plate. Five, four, three…

"Seeeeph, help." Cloud whined. "It won't cut."

"Because you're sawing at it instead of stabbing and then pushing down," he corrected as he did just that to the potato. "Now you try."

Cloud's triumphant laugh was met with silence from the surrounding tables. SOLDIERs, Cadets and ShinRa staff all gawked as he continued to eat at a steady pace, occasionally correcting Cloud's grip or movement with one touch.

"What's next after breakfast?" Rhapsodos questioned as the noise in the cafeteria rose again.

"We collect weapons, spar, lunch, Materia lessons, I go to the labs for check-up while you two have a free period and then formation before close of business and then dinner. You'll be assigned to a platoon shortly thereafter." He read down the mental list as he finished his food, curious about the crinkle under his tray. Sephiroth lifted it up and-Oh. Mom had promised him a cookie today. Right.

"Mama said that was a reward for watching me! You c'n eat it now or later." Cloud recited dutifully before he patted at Sephiroth's arm. "She said you could share if you wanted but that ya might not."

"… I'll save it." He tucked the heavenly scent of cinnamon, almond and chocolate into his pocket and wiped Cloud's face until it was clean. "Have you been given weapons yet?"

"Two regulation SOLDIER broadswords in our shared quarters. They paired us together since everywhere else is full." Hewley readily answered. "I didn’t catch your first name."

"Sephiroth. You?" His new last name felt like a victory over Hojo's mechanations.

"I’m Angeal," he pointed to himself and then to Rhapsodos, "and that's Genesis."

"Retrieve your weapons and meet us here in half an hour," Sephiroth offered.

"That an order?" Rhapsodos sneered. Hewley smacked the other on the arm with a reproving look.

"A suggestion. Wolf told me to show you around but you know your quarters and I guarantee that our spar will be to judge your skill level. Just because we're the same rank doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you." He purred as he took Cloud's hand and started for their shared apartment.

They'd upgraded Mom and Cloud to a better suite as soon as she'd signed the papers. It wouldn't do for the company's brightest to announce his new family lived in ShinRa's substandard housing units.

Chapter Text

He rinsed off and left his top knot in until his PHS meeped.

'Lt. Strife,

Per the company's policy, your hair must remain down during sparring, missions and battle. Our apologies for any inconvenience caused.

Major Wolf

P.S. I’m trying to get this stupid rule eliminated but they insist it’s for company PR. People like the hair.'

Sephiroth face planted on the bed and groaned before rolling over to see Cloud pulling a long silver strand from the coverlet.

"Hey Cloud?"

"Yeah?"

"Does my hair look dumb?"

"Uh-uh." Cloud reached for the thick hair tie and unraveled Sephiroth's hair. It tumbled down to his waist, spilling like water over his shoulders and back. "Mama says it's li-quid moonlight."

Small fingers carded through it, the glide soothing his earlier irritation at Rhapsodos' response. "Never tangles, never breaks 'n Mama says ya can't cut it with scissors."

"Masamune can," he told his brother, fingertips brushing the sleek wooden sheath. "I cut it off to here," Sephiroth motioned to his chin, "once. They didn't give me Masamune again until it grew back."

Hojo had been beyond furious when he'd seen the length spread across the floor.

'You look like that infuriating bodyguard! He- Give me that sword! Now!’

Sephiroth knew then that Hojo feared that man but he'd never heard about the bodyguard again.

"They took her away?" Cloud's eyes widened at the thought of Sephiroth without Masamune. "Meanies."

"Yeah, they were real mean.Time’s almost up Storm Cloud. Wanna go see me spar?" He questioned right before his fingers settled on Cloud’s ribs.

"Yeah! EEEEE-HEHEHE! Seeeeph!"

Cloud held his left hand, Masamune carried in his right as Sephiroth made his way back to the entrance of the kitchen. The sharp scent of Junon hot peppers made him snort.

The scent was strong enough to bother his heightened senses as other Thirds and a few Seconds lingered near the doorway. They were sniffing and wandering back over to their groups to whisper about it.

Sephiroth had never really had the opportunity to interact outside of the overseeing sessions but now… now might be a good starting point. Mom had told him that it took courage but that more often than not, the effort was rewarded.

"It's Junon Spice Kick," he murmured, knowing that they could all hear him. "It's chili but it doesn't taste like it until you've had half the bowl. Feels like a Chocobo kick to the chest."

"How the hell do you know what's on the menu?" A fellow Third asked.

"Language, please." He huffed as Cloud tugged on his hand. "Mom's the Head Chef and she tests most of what she serves at home."

"Language? What are we-" the newer Third looked down as Cloud decided to hang off of Sephiroth's forearm. "…five?"

"I’m six." Cloud announced to the hallway as he dangled from Sephiroth's arm, kicking his feet to sway. "Mama says I'm not in th' kitchen cause of peppers."

"I'm watching my younger brother, so please, keep that to a minimum." He added as Hewley and Rhapsodos walked into the hallway with swords equipped. "Hewley, Rhapsodos, with me."

Sephiroth walked a few feet before it registered that both of his fellow Thirds were staring as Cloud hung on. "He does this all the time, don't you, Cloud?"

"Shhh." Cloud's stare is intent on the end of the hallway.

"He's trying to beat his record of holding onto my arm," he wryly commented as he continued to walk slowly. "Cloud got halfway down this hall two days ago. He's hoping to get to the end of it."

"I think he can do it." Hewley encouraged his little brother.

Cloud's grip lasted until the doorway, just as Sephiroth stepped over it.

"I'm tired." Cloud lifted his arms and Sephiroth picked him up, settling him on his hip as he continued at a much faster pace. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He murmured softly as he keyed open the door and settled Cloud on the mats in the protected, reinforced area. "Take a nap, hmm? I'll be back soon."

Chapter Text

Sephiroth flicked his hair over his shoulder and settled in the center of the Virtual Reality Room as it created an environment.

He was standing on top of a box in the ruins of the slums he was never allowed to see.

He spotted Rhapsodos but not Hewley and listened for them both above the artificial noises of the VR Room.

He side-stepped an attack, lashing out with Masamune unsheathed. The way it sheared through metal made him look to see the standard-issue ShinRa broadsword cut in half and his blade a scant half an inch from Hewley's throat.

"I yield. Holy Bahamut, your eyes were closed when you did that!" Hewley held up his hands in defeat. "You weren't kidding around when you said you were assessing our skills."

This seemed to enrage Rhapsodos, who threw magic at him instead of using the blade.

"Fira!" Rhapsodos yelled, followed by, "Thundara!"

Hewley scrambled to get out of the way as Sephiroth back-flipped to avoid the fire ball and the strikes of lightning.

"Blizzara." He calmly commanded his Materia, firing off several large spikes of ice. "Shield. Blizzara II."

Rhapsodos froze in place, his expression angry as he struggled to free himself of the encasing material. "Fira III!"

The massive fireball melted through the ice and then the floor of the VR Room, causing it to go dark.

No one had broken the VR Room in years, not since Sephiroth had carved into the side of it with Masamune at the tender age of five. Rhapsodos had potential and just because Hewley had yielded didn't mean he didn't have strength.

The emergency lighting snapped on and then the regular lights flooded in. "Session's over. I'll report my findings to Major Wolf. You'll be placed together. Rhapsodos, your temper won't always get you out of sticky situations. Hewley, find a better weapon than the crap shoot that is the ShinRa standard blade. I'll assess you again in three weeks." Sephiroth went into debriefing mode, something he knew he could fall back on in uncomfortable situations.

"Thank you. I take it we have lunch now?" Hewley asked as Rhapsodos sobered.

"Yes." Sephiroth sheathed Masamune and picked up Cloud again, hugging his little brother close. "You can find your way back on your own. I will see you in Materia training."

"You're eating alone?" Hewley asked, his dark brows furrowing as he looked at Sephiroth.

"… It's routine." He managed after a long moment. Rhapsodos suddenly looked like he'd bitten into a bad apple. Hewley didn't look much better, his frown deepening. "I thought you'd need time to speak with each other. I'm aware that most people don't like me after this mandatory assessment."

He knew what others said about him; freak of nature, too strong, too fast to even see, packaged into a cold, emotionless child.

"So, you don't mind if we come with?" Rhapsodos asked.

"What Gen means is that we'd like to share lunch with you, if you don't mind. I want to know how you spun like that and I want you to teach it to me." Hewley added with a smile.

"Oh." He didn't know how to feel about that. No one had ever offered to have lunch with him before now.

"Mmm, Seph?" Cloud stirred in his hold, rubbing a hand over soft blue eyes as he blinked away sleep. "Hi. Wanna come with? Mama made lots of lunch for us."

Leave it to Cloud to rescue Sephiroth when he needed it most. Thank Shiva…

They gathered trays together and sat at the same table but Sephiroth was completely out of his depth.

Any social interaction wasn't high on Hojo's priority list and thus it had never been his either.

Sephiroth didn't know how to proceed or what the protocol was for people who weren't his immediate family, supervisors or military higher ups.

Hewley's inviting nature dealt with his anxiety as he inquired, "So, that spin...?"

"I listened for you over the noise of the VR Room," He knew this, he could talk about this. "Breathing and heavy footfalls stick out even in a natural environment. The room may feature environmental challenges but the floor always echoes strangely. I turned when I heard your breath speed up and your footfalls got heavier. It works with everything, including the simulcasts of monsters."

"So, you shut out everything else and concentrate on what you can hear." Hewley pulled out a small notebook and scribbled something down. "It takes practice, I'm guessing?"

"Yes. It took me three months to learn the VR Room noises in order to filter them out. You may... need longer." Sephiroth answered hesitantly. Not everyone was built like him, he'd learned over the years—regular humans couldn't even distinguish between machine and nature. "I would try practicing during your free period after it's been repaired. No battle simulations, just learn the room first."

"Great. Are you doing anything this Saturday?" Hewley asked as he tucked the book and pencil away.

Saturday? Hewley sounded like.... he planned to spend more time with Sephiroth.

Even after having been thoroughly humiliated.

"Seph, Mama said ya got a pass. Dunno what that means but Mama said you should go out." Cloud chirruped and Hewley smiled.

"What would we be doing?" He questioned, his grip on the plastic fork making it creak under the strain.

"Mmm, maybe checking out Sector Eight for some decent weapons or some plants. My room is so bare that I feel like it needs plants? Can you even get plants in Midgar?" Hewley brightened considerably, which in turn, only seemed to highlight the look of jealousy on Rhapsodos' face. "Since we'll be working together, you can call me Angeal. Should I call you Strife or...?"

"Sephiroth is alright. I think there might be small plants but they usually die here on the Plate. You might have better luck if you get sent on a mission to Kalm. The plant life there's sturdier." He replied, the light feeling in his chest making him return the smile with a small one of his own.

Chapter Text

Materia Theory class was dry, boring and, unfortunately, something Sephiroth had already memorized at this point. He wanted to be practicing his kata or doing anything else but ShinRa had been firm on this; if Sephiroth was a 'normal' Third Class, he had to take all the same classes.

Normal. Ha.

Mom said the only thing it was good for was a cycle on the washing machine.

He wrote down the lecture in the Nibel language he was slowly picking up from Cloud and Mom.

"Lt. Strife! What would I get if I cast a Blizzara and a Fira at the same time?" The Instructor barked.

"Steam or boiling water depending on the strength of either Materia. If it's Mastered, well, steam burns at the third degree level are painful." He replied as he continued to painstakingly write in Nibel. "It's also the reason Instructors never hand out more than one type of Materia during class and have the counter Materia on hand."

Silence greeted his matter-of-fact answer.

"Lt. Strife is correct. Cross-casting is dangerous. However, when used against an enemy force..."

Sephiroth glanced up occassionally to check on Angeal and Rhapsodos but kept it short. By the time the clock showed the time for the class to finish, he was contemplating how much magic fed into a Blizzara would clear the classroom without hurting anyone.

Check-ups ran differently with the new Head of the Department. Sephiroth set Masamune to the side and waited for nearly ten minutes as the doctor bustled around the sterile room. His enormous file, full of heavily redacted information, sat on the counter.

"Lt. Strife, yes?"

"Yes, ma'am." He responded and then fell silent.

"My name is Doctor Killian Jakobs. You were recently adopted by one Anika Strife, correct?"

"Yes, Dr. Jakobs."

"Do you want her in here with you?"

"Ma'am?"

"Do you want Mrs. Strife to be in here while I do your exam?" Her scent was beginning to reflect frustration.

He braced himself for her reaction.

"... Hojo was both my guardian and my primary until recently. I don't understand the nature of your questioning." Sephiroth clarified and Dr. Jakobs' face paled.

"Your guardian must be present while an exam is taking place," she explained slowly, her eyes lit with an emotion Sephiroth cannot name. "I need Mrs. Strife in here with us."

"I understand, ma'am. I will call her." Sephiroth pulled out his PHS and dialled Mom's number by heart. "Mom, they need you here for the physical exam. Apparently she can't start without you."

"Oh! That was today. I'll be right up." She hummed.

"She said she'll be up soon, Doctor." He reiterated. They waited in tense silence before a knock sounded on the door.

"Mrs. Strife is here, Doctor."

"Send her in please."

Mom walked straight over to him and took his hand. "I'm here."

"Has he had any procedures done since his primary... passed?" The doctor asked delicately.

"Not for nearly three months." Mom stated easily.

"I will need to draw blood. Do I have your permis-" Sephiroth stuck out his arm automatically and waited patiently. "Lt.... Thank you."

She drew his blood, placed a piece of gauze to his arm and taped it so that the piece wouldn't come loose. She labeled the blood, the swirling green and red seeming to unsettle her.

The rest of the exam passed in silence save for a few questions directed at Mom.

"What about my J-shot?" Sephiroth asked quietly.

"... J-shot?" The doctor had started to hesitate asking him things.

The longer she read his file, the more her scent went through several changes; ranging from rage to pity and back again in a fraction of a moment.

"One part Mako, one part Materia and the black stuff. Hojo kept it over there." He explained, pointing to the locked cabinet.

"Can you open that for me?" Dr. Jakobs questioned. Sephiroth nodded and keyed in the code. The cabinet hissed open and revealed three shots already prepared. "Professor Hojo... gave this to you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"No, just a Mako booster this time to keep your levels equalized. I'll get back to you about that shot." She smiled, though it was strained, and gave him the booster.

Sephiroth left the office with Masamune as the Doctor and Mom talked. The rooms were soundproofed which meant Sephiroth couldn't hear anything. Mom came out, distress, anger and pride warring on her face.

Pride won as she smoothed back his bangs and checked his arm.

"Mom?"

"I'm very happy Hojo is rotting in the ground," She said sweetly as she took his hand again to lead him out of the office. The receptionist's eyes widened as Mom passed the desk with a satisfied gleam in her eyes. "How's your arm, honey?"

Chapter Text

Sephiroth tapped his pen on his desk, filling in mission reports from before Hojo's death. He'd been sent out against obscenely strong monsters that even the Firsts couldn't handle.

The last one had been a crazed Aeronite, three times the normal size and beyond angry with glowing green eyes. It had drunk from a Mako tainted stream and had taken to attacking civilians.

Killing it was easy—monsters always were—but the way the other SOLDIERs had eyed him afterward had caused him to withdraw even further from the Firsts.

He was, thankfully, allowed to file these under his new last name and in the Bonus pay category. Sephiroth suspected that ShinRa would still demand him for these missions, no matter who he belonged to legally.

Scrubbing at his eyes, Sephiroth glanced at the clock in the hopes that he could abandon his stupid cubicle and get into formation that signaled close of business for SOLDIERs.

1900 hrs came as Sephiroth was methodically packing his pens up and stacking his paperwork into finished and unfinished, all of it locked in his drawers and Sealed to only his touch.

"Strife!" O'Conor was a First who abused his position as Sephiroth's superior many a time.

Sephiroth internally groaned even as he answered the shout. "Yes, sir."

"Strife? Wolf said formation's on the Green. Gen and I have zero clue where that is... Apologies, Sir." Angeal skidded around the corner with Rhapsodos at his heels, both snapping a salute out to O'Conor. "He's our guide today, Sir."

"Proceed," O'Conor waved them off with a sneer directed at Sephiroth.

When they were far enough away, Sephiroth dryly commented, "SOLDIER First Class O'Conor hates my guts because I ruined his custom-made sword. It's not my fault Masamune can cut through anything put in front of her."

"Your sword has a name?" Rhapsodos asked in confusion.

"All good ones do," Angeal piped up from his right side. "Dad's Buster's been in the family for years but only had a name until recently."

"Ha, I think even the Buster might have trouble against that," Rhapsodos scoffed. "Isn't there a regulation about that kind of thing? O'Conor hating you, I mean."

"I've filed three separate reports," he shrugged. "I've never heard anything back. I don't know if it was Hojo or ..."

The words 'company sabotage' went unspoken.

"Three?!" Angeal and Rhapsodos traded concerned looks and then Angeal asked, "Can someone file one for you?"

"Mom, maybe? The Director of Administrative Reasearch, the Director of SOLDIER," Sephiroth couldn't count more than four or five. "A First who doesn't dislike me aside from Major Wolf."

"All of these rumors... Are any of them true?" Rhapsodos questioned.

"The ones that say I'm inhuman, the ones that claim I'm a freak of nature or the ones that say I shouldn't even be in the Corps?" He countered with a snort. "Where I'm both a perfectionist and a psychopath, where I terrify half of the force by doing what I was made to do?"

"Yeah. When you put it like that... They really don't like you." Angeal hummed as they stepped onto the Green. "I say they're wrong though."

"Yeah, who cares about them? 'Geal and I are making our own decisions." Rhapsodos added with a shrug as they quickly hurried to join the formation. "I answer to 'hey you', Genesis or Gen."

"Ah-TTEN-TION!"

When Major Wolf rattled off one of his many announcements, it stunned Sephiroth.

"As enacted by order of the Director, SOLDIER Firsts, Seconds and Thirds will be grouped into squads. Your squads have been pre-assigned. There will be no switching unless under dire circumstances or you are threatened with bodily harm. Firsts, your squads are the following..."

He waited anxiously for his assignment, only to give a tiny smile to both of the teens next to him.

"... SOLDIERs Third Class Hewley, Strife and Rhapsodos are Squad Lima. Formation dismissed!" Wolf bellowed and everyone split into their squads. He walked up to them and stated quietly, "I trust your day went well, Lt.s?"

"Yes, sir." They agreed.

"Good. Higher command thought it might be good to keep you three in the same squad because you're the closest in age right now. Will this be an issue?" Wolf asked bluntly.

"No, sir. Permission to speak freely, sir?" Angeal questioned.

"Granted," Major Wolf agreed.

"Lt. Strife is being harassed. It's not honorable behavior," He said bluntly. "How can we help?"

Major Wolf rocked back on his boot heels and shook his head. "O'Conor. He can't let an accident be an accident. I'm correctly assuming you've already apologized, Lt. Strife?"

"Yes, sir." Sephiroth answered. "Twice, sir."

"He'll have to be decommissioned. This was the last straw." Major Wolf sighed. "We'd hoped he'd stop after being reprimanded but I see now that it has continued even with disciplinary action. Thank you for letting me know. I see I have nothing to worry about with Squad Lima." Wolf made a beeline for O'Conor, the wrath of the older First extremely clear. "SQUAD ECHO, MY OFFICE!"

"Yessir!" The Firsts yelped as they followed.

Chapter Text

As they stepped into the elevator for the 51st floor, Sephiroth fell silent as he texted Mom.

Seph: Can I invite Angeal and Genesis to dinner?

He waited patiently as the glass elevator got stuck on Floor 22.

"Knew we should've taken the stairs," Genesis grumbled before the elevator moved again. "Does it always do that?"

"Mm-hmm. They built it a little off and didn't fix it because ShinRa is all about making it work. It gets stuck at 22, 34, and 50." Sephiroth replied absently.

His PHS meeped and he read the reply with a quiet hum.

Mom: Only if they wash their hands

and leave their weapons and boots at the door

Sephiroth had the sudden urge to spit on whatever Hojo merited as a grave.

He wanted to make friends but he was awkward and said things that were strange. Sephiroth couldn't even invite his squad mates home for dinner without looking like the fool Hojo had claimed him to be.

Well, Mom said that he could try; so try he would, even if it sounded weird.

"Do you want dinner? That's, umm, not from the Mess?" Oh Shiva that came out weird, it came out-

"You mean you're inviting us to your place? For a home-cooked meal?" Genesis asked, his scent spiked with excitement and longing.

"That's thoughtful of you," Angeal replied. "Your Mom doesn't mind?"

"No, she doesn't mind. She just wants you to wash your hands, set your boots and your weapons at the door." Sephiroth responded as the elevator jammed at Floor 34.

"Cool. Listen, since we're stuck anyway, do you have any hobbies?" Genesis questioned.

"Hobbies?" He couldn't help but tilt his head to the side at the unfamiliar word. Sephiroth'd heard it before but only in passing and it'd never been directed at him before.

Angeal and Genesis traded another glance and then shrugged simultaneously. "Something you like to do for fun."

"Oh. Umm," he paused, unsure and then took a breath to continue. "I like collecting Griffon feathers and Pheonix Downs from Aeronites."

"Griffon feathers?" Angeal pressed gently, like he knew Sephiroth was nervous.

"They're a high-level monster that have sharp-edged feathers*. They're beautiful but deadly. I've only got a few since they're rare missions for Thirds." He admitted softly. "The Firsts tend to handle the Griffons when they get out of hand."

Genesis started, "'Geal's boring. He likes plants, the Buster and dumbapples. I, on the other hand-"

"Collect rocks from every place you've ever been, obsess over that book your Mom got you in second grade and get seasick at the drop of a hat." Angeal finished dryly as the elevator got stuck very briefly at Floor 50.

"Hey!" Genesis protested but the smile and his scent said that part of the indignant face was just for show.

Sephiroth relaxed as he stepped over the threshold. Mom greeted him at the door with a hug and a question in Nibel. «How was your day, Seph?»

«I think I made some friends.» he admitted as they shuffled inside, kicked off their boots with Genesis setting the broadsword down next to Masamune. "There's a sink in the mudroom or in the kitchen."

He refused to be ashamed about hugging one of the only people to care about him in a long time. Mom only swayed in place as Angeal nodded a greeting before heading for the mud room sink. Genesis cocked an eyebrow but followed Angeal. «They seem nice. So, what's this I hear about you and Saturday plans?»

«Cloud, you tattle-tale,» He grumbled before sighing and answering, «Angeal wants to check out the Sector Eight slums and he wants me to come with him.»

Mom hummed at that bit of information. «Well, tell you what. Nicky from Sector Six said he could get me some more Wutanian spices and I don't want to bother him on what little time he has off. You think you can handle Six without a guide after Nicky haggles?»

«I'll try.» Besides, he'd heard a rumor of a rumor of a whisper that someone was selling flowers in Sector Five. Maybe they'd find Angeal some real plants. «I don't know what I'm doing.»

«That's okay. I think Angeal and Genesis know that you're trying. Dinner'll be ready soon.» Mom tucked some of his hair behind his ear and pressed a kiss to his forehead before letting go. "Seph decided to rescue you from my kitchen staff, I see."

"The Mess meals are delicious, Mrs. Strife, but it's been a while since Gen and I have had a home-cooked one." Angeal confessed.

"I can see why he brought us home," Genesis added as he sniffed appreciatively.

Mom laughed and motioned that they should portion out their own food.

Chapter Text

Waiting for something, Sephiroth found, made the week pass in both increments of too slow and not fast enough. He worked through his frustration with his kata, Masamune singing as he fought invisible opponents.

A cleared throat in the practice room had him sheathing her with a soft click.

SOLDIER First Class Henderson was one of the rare few that didn't fear or seem to hate the very sight of Sephiroth.

"No, no, keep practicing. I'm here for your assessment, Lt. Strife."

"Understood, sir." Sephiroth saluted and unsheathed Masamune in order to face off against Henderson.

The blades rang out in the echoing chamber of the practice room as Sephiroth listened and watched Henderson move with a lithe grace Sephiroth still struggled to mimic.

He fought hard and only yielded when the tip of Henderson's glowing Ifrit-blessed sword came a scant inch from his neck.

"Wh-Where did I go wrong, sir?" He panted, careful to check Masamune for scratches or dents before sheathing her. He'd have to get a new whet-stone from Supply for his sword.

"Wrong, Lt.? More like where did you lose track of time, son. We've been at it for more than an hour and a half and you're eleven. You got tired, Strife, plain and simple." Tired? He wasn't supposed to get tired. "If the next words out of your mouth are that you shouldn't be failing, I'm gonna be disappointed."

Was he getting soft? He'd been able to last for two before, going on three during his last assessment.

"I should have been at two, sir." He said instead as Masamune's wooden handle creaked dangerously under his grip. If he wasn't careful, things shattered under his strength. "I'm not where I should be, sir, and that's not what makes a good SOLDIER. Can we go again?"

Henderson's lips thinned at his request. "How long had you been doing kata before this?"

"Two hours, sir." He'd clocked it at the two hour mark when Henderson had come in.

"You're not fresh and you lasted an hour and a half against someone equal to you in strength. Strife, that's nearly four hours of body training. Even the best Firsts would be swaying right now. Slow down, Strife, before you pass the fuck out." Henderson countered with a stern look. "You're still growing. Don't expect to be on a level with adults who have had time and training on you. The fact that you're still standing and willing to fight is, frankly, astonishing. Relax."

Sephiroth's shoulders dropped and his stance shifted out of battle mode. "I should be better, sir."

"You're the strongest SOLDIER in ShinRa and one of our brightest prospectives in years. I don't see how you could get any better," Henderson sighed as he patted Sephiroth's left pauldron. "Your assessment's done. May Ifrit burn Hojo's soul for eternity."

That last remark made Sephiroth crack an exhausted smile.

He worked through the rest of his day in the pleasant haze of a good workout session and then he overheard-

"Wolf, I honestly didn't know what to say to the kid. He's fucking eleven and the amount of pressure he puts on himself is incredible," Henderson muttered. "He said he should have been better after a four hour session. Four! You and I can manage that because we're fucking adults."

"If the damn Turks ever revealed where the hell they buried Hojo, you bet your ass they'd find it ruined by quite a few SOLDIERS who hated his guts. Strife was five, the first time I saw him pick up Masamune. Who the hell makes a kid pick up a sword and then use it? Slippery eel bastard deserved what happened to him." Wolf growled in reply. "If Mrs. Strife hadn't beaten us to the punch, I would've adopted him in a heartbeat. Kid's so damn bright and sweet when he's not beating himself up about not being up to par."

Sephiroth darted back to his cubicle and heaved in a shaking breath, hugging Masamune to his chest and calming himself down with paperwork. The pen slipped from his hand as he dozed off, ruining three separate copies of the reports he was supposed to be working on.

"Let him sleep. Poor kid's been adjusting constantly so now that he doesn't have to, his body's freaking out from the lack of stress." Henderson sighed as several other shuffling boot pairs stepped aside in order for someone to lay something warm across his back.

"Mmm..." Sephiroth peeled his face off of his paperwork and yelped at the time. «Oh sweet Shiva!»

He cleaned up the paperwork, the pen and folded the blanket in record time.

Just as he was about to step out, Lt. Colonel Thomas stepped in. "At ease, Lt. Strife. You're not late to anything because the rest of your day's been cut short. Medical said your only job is rest."

Sephiroth's shoulders fell at that announcement. He didn't want to be treated differently.

"You look like someone spat in your dinner, Lt. Strife. Care to elaborate?"

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" He questioned as he held Masamune loosely to his chest.

"Granted." Lt. Colonel Thomas nodded in agreement.

"When... Hojo was still alive, he would demand special treatment for me. I never wanted it. It made the other SOLDIERs hate me, no matter the rank. They reek of fear everytime I go on missions with them unless I ask for monster extermination. Even then..." Sephiroth hesitantly admitted as he fiddled with the decorative cording of his sword. "All I really want is to be treated like everyone else."

Lt. Colonel Thomas rose a brow at his response. "The SOLDIERs don't hate you, Lt. Strife and the reason they smell of fear is because they fear for you, not because they're afraid of you. You're a child and you're taking on monsters ten times your size. Most of them have family about your age who are still playing make-believe."

"What about the Aeronite mission?" Sephiroth asked, knowing that the Firsts had pulled away and refused to look at him. He knew that some sided with O'Conor, saying that he didn't belong in the ranks and-

"You've never seen yourself after a fight?" Thomas replied.

"No, sir."

Lt. Colonel Thomas commandeered Sephiroth's company computer and pulled up the ShinRa newsletter.

Three months ago, the cover had featured him after a mission; the Aeronite that had taken a heavy joint force of Sephiroth and three Firsts who specialized in crazed monsters.

Aeronite blood glowed silver in the right lighting and what the military photographer had captured made Sephiroth cock his head to the side.

He was coated in arterial blood spray that glimmered and his eyes were reflecting the flash like those of a fire wolf.

Sephiroth remembered getting sprayed by a fluid but dismissed it when it didn't hinder his ability to move.

He understood why they'd gone upwind of him now; the blood had stunk terribly on the way back, enough that even Hojo wanted nothing to do with him until he'd showered it off.

"The reason you're off-duty right now is because if you hadn't taken an impromptu nap, you'd have passed out from your exhaustion in formation. Take it easier, Strife, and remember that most of the SOLDIERs—aside from what's left of Squad Echo and a few ShinRa cronies—actually like you." Lt. Colonel Thomas added dryly.

"Yes, sir." Sephiroth barely managed to answer.

"Go home now. Formation's bright and early at 0600."

He made it home and stumbled through the threshold, caught by Mom as he set Masamune at the door.

Mom didn't have to say anything because her expression, a mix of exasperation and fondness, told him everything he needed to know.

«I could have told you that,» She chuckled when he mumbled about the SOLDIERs not hating him around a mouthful of food.

Sephiroth wouldn't have even thought about it a month ago or even two months ago.

Tired was not something Hojo had wanted to see of his prized specimen.

Mumbling was discouraged by a swat of a pointer against his knuckles.

Here, he was learning that no one was perfect.

No one had to be on their toes all the time, to be ready at a moment's notice for painful experiments and it was a lesson that he had live to understand.

Sephiroth shed most of his uniform, brushed his teeth and crawled into bed with Cloud, snuggling his little brother close.

Chapter Text

Saturday came and Sephiroth let Cloud decide what his hair was going to look like.

«I think a Nibel braid, Mama, like Flower Day!» Cloud pronounced at breakfast, waving his spoon for emphasis.

«Hmm,» Mom gave his hair a once over and nodded in agreement. «Would you mind a braid?»

«I've never had one so I wouldn't know.» Sephiroth hummed as he dug back into his meal.

«Well, high time we fixed that then.» Mom said as she gave his shoulder a soft squeeze.

A full braid was immediately dismissed after they tried it. The weight was something he normally didn't feel and was throwing him off balance a bit.

«You have too much hair for that to be a light style for you. Let's try something else.»

They went through several smaller braids but nothing stuck.

By the time Cloud let Angeal through the door, Sephiroth was detangling some of the smaller ones.

"What about a waterfall braid, Mrs. Strife? Leave the bangs out but the rest will work with that." Angeal suggested.

"Perfect." Mom grinned and sat Sephiroth back down, her fingers flying at the edge of his peripheral vision. "Ta-da!"

Sephiroth turned and it didn't weigh anything down while still looking like they'd spent hours on it.

They had spent at least an hour but that was to try out things.

"You've got a little one. May I?" Angeal pointed out and Sephiroth stood still as Angeal detangled the one that Cloud had managed to sneak in somehow.

"Thank you. So, first to Sector Eight, then to Six for a kitchen errand. We'll have a guide for a bit and you'll get to see Wall Market maybe." Sephiroth rattled off.

"You're going in uniform?" Angeal asked in surprise.

"Ah." He flushed and grumbled internally at the fact that his skin showed everything.

Uniforms were the only thing that fit and were never taken back unless ripped or torn; Sephiroth kept his spotless and in good repair.

"We'll see if some of Gen's old stuff will fit. I'll have him back by nine, Mrs. Strife!" Angeal grinned and waved to Cloud and Mom as Sephiroth hugged them both.

They traveled across to Angeal's and Genesis's shared apartment, Genesis still sleeping.

Angeal made a noise of triumph and handed over a shirt. "Loose the gloves, wear that and we shouldn't stick out too badly. We should probably withdraw some gil too if we're going to Six."

Sephiroth ducked into the bathroom to change. He glanced in the mirror to see how he looked in casual clothes that still smelled of Genesis, smiling at the sight of a Chocobo with a logo over it across his chest. Flicking off the light took half a moment but he hummed as he left the area.

"Hey, I think you actually managed to look better in his stuff than he did. C'mon." Angeal tugged him along before pausing. "Are you alright with this? I mean-"

"Yes." Sephiroth thought it was nice that someone touched him so casually without anything behind it other than genuine excitement.

"Okay. We'll catch the first train down and then we'll meet up with who you need to meet at Six." Angeal smiled and confessed as the elevator got stuck at Floor 50, "I've never done anything without Gen. It's new but it's nice."

"How long have you been friends?" Sephiroth expected a short answer.

He was delighted to hear that Angeal made it a story.

"To hear Gen tell it, he was mortally wounded, offended and I his shining knight in armor." Angeal chuckled. "He tripped over a rock in the third grade and I was the one who got picked to ask if he was okay. He was a brat and the son of the richest orchard owner in Banora. He sniffled so I offered him a hand and my hanky. Gen asked what my name was and well... Still a brat but I like to think he's better now."

"You balance each other out." He said instead of the polite words.

"Yeah, we do." Angeal looked at him differently now but it was a difference that Sephiroth appreciated. "I think I'll venture to Six with you."

"Thank you."

Chapter Text

They took the train down and the first thing they saw was a tiny plant shop with wilted plants. He shook his head and Angeal frowned at the plants, barely touching the leaves in case they crumbled.

They withdrew their Gil.

Sephiroth sorely wished for Masamune with the way some people were looking at them. He paused, holding onto Angeal's wrist as he equipped his long dagger from his item pouch.

"We don't know what kind of monsters are here but I'd prefer to be armed just in case." He offered his spare to Angeal, who took it with ease and strapped it to his forearm.

"I like how you think." came the reply.

They wandered through more of Eight, the staring lessened considerably as they traveled through the sector.

"Wait, what about there?" Angeal pointed at a dusty little place. Sephiroth silently admitted to himself that he wanted to check out the shop as well. "Oh."

Inside it was immaculate with a small fan blowing air throughout the place. Flowers were everywhere but they were fake and weren't sprayed to smell like the real thing.

... Not that he knew what true flowers smelled like, not when he'd never seen nor smelled them in his life.

"If you're lookin' for the real deal, I wouldn't shop anywhere near here. Sector Five's the place t' go." the gruff voice of the counterperson made them turn. "SOLDIERs in my shop... Never thought I'd see the day."

"I was interested in your sign," Angeal pointed up and Sephiroth read it at a glance. "I'd like to get one each for my friend and I and another to be put on hold."

'Flower crowns, 150 Gil flat'

"You want to spend that much on flowers? Fake ones at that?" The counter person, Dyne, shrugged but set down a measuring tape.

"No need. I've got them here." Angeal pulled out a scrap of paper. "These flowers if you've got them."

"You're thorough, I'll give you that. This your first paycheck?" Dyne asked in a flat tone.

"No, sir." Angeal cheerfully disagreed. "It's my second. I sent the first home to my Ma."

"And your friend?"

"I save mine." Sephiroth replied. "But... I'll take two and help with the cost of the third that's already ordered."

Sephiroth walked out of the store with blue silk flowers brushing his ears and turning to see Angeal placing his own on his hair. Purple and white flowers curled delicately against the dark hair.

He tucked his bag away into his item pouch that was Sealed to his touch.

"How much can that thing hold?" Angeal asked as Sephiroth buckled it closed.

"It's not standard," he disclosed as he grinned. "Major Wolf got it for me on my birthday. Sealed to your personal MP signature. I'll ask him where he got it."

"Nice. Can I ask you to hold onto my purchases then?" Blue eyes crinkled at the corners as Angeal nudged him with his shoulder.

"Of course." Sephiroth agreed easily as they boarded the train again to head for Sector Six.

The crowd was unpleasant, loud and the myriad of scents almost made him sick. He focused on Angeal and the smell of the silk flowers to calm himself.

With his eyes half-closed, he was almost in a trace when someone reached for his pouch; fingers hooked into his belt loops and the rasp of a small knife had him drawing his own weapon with a snarl.

"Do you think it's a good idea to steal from a SOLDIER?" He asked in a poisonously sweet tone, a shirt collar gripped in his right hand as his left pressed his dagger into the throat of a grown man. "Especially since you assumed that my personal belongings were going to be yours. It's Seal V and it would have given you a nasty Fira III burn had I let you touch it."

The crowd parted at his furious question and backed up further at his cold explaination.

"I'm going to let go of you now. I hope you keep your sticky hands to yourself." Sephiroth finished with a sneer.

Angeal whistled lowly. "Remind me never to touch that pouch of yours."

"Hmm? Ah, it only does that to complete strangers. Wolf thought I might have issues like that one." He replied dryly as he sheathed his dagger. "Henderson thought that I'd need back-up for Masamune."

"Good thing he did," Angeal snorted out a laugh as the crowd crept closer and closer but left a small bubble of space all around them both.

Chapter Text

Nicky, one of Mom's most loyal troopers, met them at the stop in Six with what most SOLDIERs called a shit-eating grin.

"So you live up to Mrs. Strife's legacy," Nicky teased Sephiroth. "Even if you can't cook squat."

"I just need practice," he pouted, looking up at Nicky. "Not my fault water or steel doesn't like Fira II under it to make it boil faster..."

"Who's your friend, koneko*?"

Angeal was poking at his PHS but tucked it into his pocket to pay attention. "I'm his SOLDIER squad mate, Angeal."

"He got O'Conor fired." Nicky rose a brow at that. "Apparently it was the last straw because he was already disciplined and kept going."

"I like your new friend, koneko. Your Mom said she needed some spices, right?" Nicky nudged him and Angeal watched them with a smile playing at his lips.

"I'm playing delivery SOLDIER," Sephiroth nudged back softly to reciprocate.

Nicky was older but he'd done something about Sephiroth's habit of lingering near the kitchen and put him to work.

The bonus was that Sephiroth had a reputation amongst the troopers as fiercely protective of those he liked. It also left a permanent mark in the hallway across the kitchens with three heavy dents that not even a repairing team had been able to fix.

As Nicky had laughingly put it, he was protected by a tiny silver demon with claws.

The nickname had stuck and it was the only other one Sephiroth tolerated.

"So, how did you two meet?" Angeal questioned as they wove through the crowds.

"Where else? This one was lurking in the kitchen or near enough to unsettle the rest of the staff aside from Mrs. Strife and Cloud." Nicky replied as he ducked under a wooden beam. "I asked him if he could handle a knife and set him to work chopping veggies for the day's dishes. We were done a full three hours early thanks to this little guy."

Sephiroth rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Nicky forgot to mention that because I reset the time line, his tormentors decided that it was a good opportunity to ambush him near the kitchen." He scoffed and continued. "I threw the first knife between their legs, the second between shoulder and head and the third hard enough to put a crack in the wall."

"He did it in the dark, eyes glowing like those old stories—Koneko walked out of the kitchen balancing the fourth knife on his fingertip and asked, 'Anyone else volunteering to be target practice?' Leviathan, you should've smelled them... Passed out or pissed themselves right then and there." Nicky cackled as he wrapped an arm around Sephiroth's shoulders. "I've never had trouble since and I adopted another baby brother."

"How many do you have again?" Sephiroth asked as they saw Wall Market in all of it's glory.

"Six siblings but you technically make it seven." Nicky teased. "We're here."

Nicky haggled with the spice vendor as Sephiroth listened carefully to the Wutainese tonal shifts and upticks. He heard his nickname a quite a few times but didn't dare interrupt. His friend pulled away with an excellent selection of spices for Mom and some spices that made him wrinkle his nose.

"Oh, right, you can smell all of it, can't you? Sorry." Nicky tucked away the heavier scents and gave the bag to Sephiroth.

"It's fine. Can you teach me that?" He asked after he put away the spices in a separate compartment of his pouch.

"What? Wutainese?" Nicky looked surprised at the request. "Or was it the haggling?"

"Both?" Now he hesitated. "I like learning new languages. I've just about finished with Nibel."

Nicky mulled it over as they stood in the hustle, Angeal argued pricing with the weapons master three stalls over. "It's not easy. There's more than one alphabet and two distinct ways of speaking. You're going to get frustrated. You still wanna try?"

"Yes but first I think we rescue Angeal from the weapons master," Sephiroth heard the argument getting louder, "and ask how to get to Sector Five."

"Heard about our resident green thumb?" Nicky ribbed as they haggled down the pricing to something a little more reasonable.

"Something like that," he admitted with a shrug.

"She's down that path and to the left, in the old church. Be careful, koneko. She knows things." Nicky directed them. "Good luck."

"Thank you." He hugged Nicky and waved as he departed. "We're on our own, Angeal. Sector Five is that way if you want some plants."

Sector Five was even more hostile than Eight, the outright glares not leaving them as they headed for the church.

Angeal muttered too low for anyone else to hear, "They sure are welcoming folks."

"If I had to choose between this and a Behemoth, I'd take the Behemoth. At least I know what I'm getting with the latter." Sephiroth muttered back as they stopped just before the church doors. "All I have to say is-"

"Hello~" Sephiroth looked down at bright green eyes very similar to his own.

They reminded him of someone he hadn't dared to think about in over a year.

"Hello." He replied cautiously to the little girl that couldn't be much older than Cloud. "My friend and I, we're looking... for some plants."

"Plants? Oh, our flowers! Mama?" The little girl called back into the cavernous church and gripped the bottom of the shirt he was borrowing much like Cloud usually did.

Sephiroth resisted the urge to scoop her up and settle her against his hip, the way he normally did with Cloud.

"Aerith, bring them in. I've been waiting for almost a week now." The soft voice that answered Aerith (the name suited her) made Sephiroth reach out for Angeal's hand.

Angeal laced their fingers as they followed Aerith until the sun filtered through the broken roof slats.

Seated in the sunlight and tending an array of flowers was someone Sephiroth thought had died nearly a year ago; Ifalna Faramis.

Sephiroth hitched in a breath and then let go of Angeal as he ran straight for her, flower crown knocked askew as he fell to his knees to hug her.

"I thought you were dead, Mrs. Faramis-Hojo, that rotten, lying..." He breathed out.

"I almost died, Sephiroth." She confessed as she petted his hair. "I came so close."

Sephiroth pulled back and realized that her breathing was different.

"You broke out, didn't you? You escaped him. That's why-" He stopped mid-sentence but Ifalna's grip prevented him from leaving, weak as it was.

"He took it out on the only one left in his clutches." Ifalna finished in a wavering tone as she touched where Hojo had left a scar on his side. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm somewhere better now," Sephiroth mentioned, trying to soothe the guilt in her gaze. "Don't apologize for that—that greasy slippery eel bastard." He slapped a hand over his mouth in surprise as Ifalna laughed, her green eyes sparkling with unspoken mirth.

"I think it's funny but don't repeat it where Aerith can hear, alright?" She chided. "How's Mrs. Strife?"

"She's... wonderful. She's been fighting for me. I have a family now." He whispered as he pressed close to her. "I don't know how I got here but I'm pretty sure there's a cast iron frying pan somewhere that I owe my thanks to."

"The Turks have it." Ifalna replied. "Floor 45, in a locked display case."

"Huh. I'll have to take a look. Can I bring Cloud down here?" Sephiroth asked as they watched Angeal play pretend with Aerith. "He's got no one to play with that's his age up there."

"Bring the dragon's hatchling down here to play with my little light. I find I have much in common with Mrs. Strife." She responded as Sephiroth leaned into her embrace.

"Do I need to get you a cast iron pan too?"

Ifalna hummed as she pressed a kiss to his forehead and straightened the flower crown.

"No, not yet. So, tell me how you've been doing lately..."

They left with a bundle of plants in tiny pots within larger ones and careful instructions about their care. He carried the soil mix over his shoulder and hugged Aerith and Ifalna goodbye.

"I'll see you again!" Aerith chirruped as she waved which startled most of the residents of Sector Five.

Angeal was cooing at his new plants, oblivious to his surroundings as Sephiroth steered him through the crowds to the train.

He managed to buy a well-seasoned cast iron pan in Six for his Mom before they took the train above the plate.

ShinRa troopers waved them through security but were curious about the plants.

"I found them in a shop." Angeal lied sweetly. "They import things from Kalm." After they left the troopers, Sephiroth gave him a grateful smile. "Omission isn't honorable but when it protects someone, I find it easier."

"Thank you." He said.

"They seemed important to you," Angeal murmured.

"You could say they're family, in a way."

Across the ocean and in an environment so cold it froze nearly everything, a pair of glowing red eyes snapped open in pitch darkness.