Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Squaresoft characters (as much as I want to) and therefore they are copyrighted to their respective owners, however, Amelia/Ami is a character of my own design and no doubt more will follow, please do not attempt to use any of my designed characters without my expressed permission .
Chapter One - Remembering
"Remember..." From the depths of his mind the unfamiliar voice whispered, for years he had remained...dead in a sense, for he had lain in the same place for well over two years, his heartbeat so slow it remained undetectable and his breaths...to those that dared venture down below the surface he seemed dead, for his chest dared not move in the confinements of the place in which he now slept, "Remember..." These words never left his mind, nor did the voice that spoke of them for in the months in which he had dwelled alone he had become accustomed to his now fallen mother, no longer did she whisper so who was this. In ways, the voice did remind him of someone he had known a long time ago, or at least he should have known, yet whether it be through the beatings he had received by his rivals he couldn't seem to remember. Regardless, the voice never left him, it was the only form of company he had and often gave him a sense of comfort, and a sense that he wasn't alone, but he was alone...wasn't he?
"Remember..." Often, people had told him to 'remember' but they had never specified what he was supposed to remember, they told him to figure it out for himself, told him to discover his true self...he had done that once and in doing so had almost caused the fall of an entire planet, only then, when he had at last been 'defeated' had he realized his faults and had cursed himself to the fate in which he had promised himself to long ago. Now he was trapped and with no method of escape he could only reflect on the past, the past in which he could recall at least...
"Remember..." She never said anything different, was it the only thing she had ever said to him, from within the confinements that he lay in he scrunched his eyes tight, almost forcing himself to 'remember' for he had never enjoyed being troubled by thoughts he couldn't understand, theories that made no sense, a past full of lies and manipulation. In the depths of his mind he had often screamed out to the voices that hissed bitterly to him, cursed him to eternal damnation and even those that attempted to spark some type of catalyst that would do what exactly...should he remember what he was supposed to...what would happen?
It was in this, that the eyelids of the man began to open, slowly, stiffly as though they hadn't opened in quite some time. Soon, translucent, ghostly and almost glowing eyes stared out into the murky, shimmering stream in which he lay, it was murky in the sense, that a substance within it caused it to often look opaque in places while translucent in others and completely transparent in rare cases. The life stream...his home, the place in which he had been banished to upon his defeat, or rather his surrender. Within this stream he had the ability to listen to those calling to him, listen to their curses and sometimes even comforting whispers, on rare occasions the liquid before him would often begin to shimmer, manipulate itself into shapes that he couldn't quite recognize, it was when he had been awake that he had often questioned as to whether the stream reacted to his thoughts, the thoughts that lingered at the back of his mind in an attempt to offer some form of aid in recognizing what he was supposed to recognize.
"Remember..." Again it came, however, as it did, the liquid before him began to pulse, sending miniature shockwaves out from the epicentre in which it had emanated. The substance within the water that gave it, its opaque look began to gather and form the outline of a figure, a person. At once his eyes narrowed at the petite and wavering figure before him, "remember..." The shape's apparent lips moved and to mere slits did his eyes go, the figure, he had seen it before, but from where was a complete mystery. Obviously, it was female, mittened hands clasped together against a coat that came down to the knees and what looked like a winged bag upon the back...a winged back, colours seemingly began to place themselves upon the figure as though it was the outline of an artists work, tiny feet soon became booted and the petite figure gained colour...auburn, shoulder length hair, wavering slightly as it hung around the bowed head...yet the face still remained clouded.
"Remember..." his lips mouthed uncomfortably against the liquid's grasp, "Remember..." he repeated and shook his head, memories…soon they overwhelmed him and his eyes widened in uncontrolled shock, very slowly the head of the figure raised and pursed lips became visible, they soon smiled as the figure tilted her head to one side and at last the hair drifted from the unknown face, almost dark red eyes glittering playfully back at him, they weren't red in that sense...for they were a shade of brown that resembled it, regardless, an unregistered smile appeared on usually straightened lips as at last, the figure stood before him, but the name...what was her name...?
"Remember!" Again the lips moved as the figure began to finalise itself in appearance, a small, beige headband pushing back the hair from her face until she stood before him in the stream...
"Remember..." he mouthed once more in a repetitive fashion towards him, she seemingly began to nod, yet he still failed to understand. He could only shake his head but once again, almost stubbornly she nodded her own and he frowned. Such determination, he had often killed people for arguing even silently with him and now...the girl was doing it openly?! A twinge of remembrance attacked his mind and he gasped silently, or at least his mouth became agape...only one he had allowed to tease and argue with him in such a way...
"Remember," Again she spoke and his eyes returned to their narrowed form, who was she? Within him, he felt a sudden sense of peace and couldn't quite place the reason why he felt a sudden closeness to the petite girl, for in his time alive he had never allowed one to get too close had he...? Unless...
"Amelia!" he whispered, causing bubbles to form opposite him and float upwards, the figure developed a proud smile and promptly vanished, "Ami..." he murmured softly. The pull of the stream seemed to triple as the memories flooded back to him…it didn't wish for him to leave, to attempt to solve the puzzle that had now unfolded before him, Ami...that name...that girl...
*****
The sniffling echoed through the silent corridors, for the most part, at this current time of the day such corridors were deserted and only the janitor and student locker's lingered within it, however, today was seemingly different. Lunchtime...when most would be socializing and part taking in the daily ritual of consuming food products, there was someone still lingering within the corridors, well someone other than himself of course.
Black, worn in leather shoes walked forwards, footsteps muffled for the most part thanks to the 'squeak' of the new leather being well worn out of them. Unfortunately, much to his distaste, such shoes were accompanied by the traditional uniform, black trousers that rarely fitted correctly, the typical white shirt, the tie with the inappropriate crest upon the centre and the heavy blazer, or rather jacket. He hated such restrictions, but according to his elders he had to at least obey such rules for the most part.
Nevertheless, he continued onwards until he drew nearer to the sniffling, a light frown coming across the delicate features of the young, teenage boy's features as he observed the apparent mount of black clothes in the gap between the lockers, no doubt it was well hidden and evidently the figure had known of the place for quite some time, but it was never wise to allow yourself to be detected by such...obvious sounds, he had learnt that the hard way.
"Should you not be at lunch?" a clear voice flowed from the lips of the boy, youthful, wise and yet almost soothing had it to be applied in the correct way. At once, upon hearing the voice the heap of clothes tensed and the sniffling for the most part...seemed to at least pause.
"S'pose..." replied the muffled voice, distorted by the snuffling as the figure blew its nose. It was with this that the figure rose to its feet, only then did the boy realise exactly how tiny she was, nearly a foot smaller than him, with round eyes and that trembling mouth that always symbolised that a girl was about to break down into tears once more.
"So, why are you not at lunch?" he continued. Having recently been appointed as a Head of Year he had taken his new authority seriously, failing to go to the appropriate rooms was in his eyes, a serious offence.
"I...wasn't hungry," the girl replied in a low voice, having averted her eyes almost immediately from his face, good, well at least she knew where her place was going to be in society, or at least in this school...wait a moment...Lips paused as the boy took in her physique, what should have been an unblemished cheek was vastly developing a bruise.
"You were not hungry," he repeated in a mildly amused voice, did she honestly think she could trick him into believing that excuse?
"Yes..." she replied softly and forced her lips to stop trembling, her shoulders hunched as she fished around in her pockets for her handkerchief once more.
"And I suppose you are not hungry because the sandwich put you offer your meal after it punched your cheek then?" he enquired, quirking a brow at the reaction he received. Never in his life had he understood the reason for such a reaction, for he himself had never experienced it. Immediately, colour rushed to the girl's cheeks and she quickly stared at her shoes, in the words of many of the students the word 'busted' came to mind, that seemed to be the word they used when one of them had been found out.
"Actually it was the tuna but that's besides the point..." she retaliated, his brow rose higher as she fought against the colour rising in her cheeks, the petite girls features developing a light frown, almost as though she had been insulting.
"And...did this tuna just happen to be in your sandwich?" he pursed her lips, though the corners of his lips were twitching, he had not yet mastered how to retain a completely straight face, especially when he was trying to hide the fact that he was aware of her almost playful excuses.
"Actually...a knuckle was..." she replied quietly. At last a confession, patiently, he folded his arms across his chest and awaited a further explanation, however he only got a sentence that he found to be the least appropriate thing he had ever heard, "You see, you guys up on the plate all think that people who live down below you in the slums are all idiots, that we're inferior and have therefore, no right to even be up here..." she pointed out almost knowingly, "It's not our place to even step into the same school as someone from on the plate," she finished in a softly voice, so soft that even with his own superior hearing he had to strain to hear her. Was this what they had meant when they had spoken of their 'visits' to the slums, had they deliberately caused fights and harm to those that lurked below?
"Your name?" he enquired at last and she shrugged.
"Amelia De'Viant," she replied and tilted her head to one side, "You?"
"Well I would have expected you to know as I am --"
"I'm new actually...I wouldn't actually know," he froze mid-sentence and tried to registered what had just occurred, had she just interrupted him?! Not even someone who was new had a right to do that!
"My name...is Sephiroth and you would do well to remember that you have absolutely no right to interrupt me when I am speaking to you!"
"Would you like me to add a 'Sir' to that as well?" she snapped in retaliation, it was then that the eyes met, each determined to outstare the other until each realized that neither was going to back down, despite being so frail in her physique her mentality was almost impressive, and Sephiroth rarely thought that about anyone...