Author's Note: The following takes place during Crisis Core.
Between recent events and the noisy construction echoing on nearly every floor, Sephiroth decided at last that venturing beyond the Shinra Building would offer some respite.
Ignoring the frank stares from male and female employees alike, he stepped through the door and proceeded for the Sector 8 fountain. A few people milled about, most of which appeared too busy conversing to notice his passage. At glimpsing the fluorescent banner advertising LOVELESS he smirked and prepared to turn away.
"Excuse me?" questioned a soft, somewhat uncertain voice. Sephiroth looked to his left. A teenage girl with long, brown hair and wearing a white and blue dress gazed up at him, her expression hopeful. A roughshod wagon sat by her feet, a colorful array of flowers arranged within. "Would you like to buy a flower? They're one gil."
Sephiroth turned to face her. The girl shifted uneasily, as if unsure of how to react to his silence. "Are those real?"
For an instant she seemed surprised by the question. "Oh, yes," she replied, recovering herself and smiling. She stroked the petals of the two in her hand, her smile turning fond. "I've been caring for them for a while."
Sephiroth took in her appearance again. Her dress, while not brand new, showed signs of tender care. A pattern of flowers looked to have been sewn over the left strap. "To sell?" he asked, uncertain if it was the best way to obtain new clothing.
She laughed slightly, a reaction that puzzled him. "Not at first," she admitted. "I only just started. That is," she amended, blushing, "my friend gave me the idea first." She cleared her throat and smiled again. "Midgar full of flowers, pockets full of money," she said cheerfully.
Strange. It sounded a lot like something Zack would say. It had the same optimistic connotation. "I see. Have you sold any so far?"
"No," she sighed, crestfallen. "I guess I should have picked another day. Not many people are here."
"Hmm." Sephiroth looked past her. LOVELESS Avenue fairly teemed with people. A large group of women, young and old, stood together by the theater. "I suggest selling them over there. There's always a crowd no matter what time of day."
She glanced in the direction he indicated. "Oh," she murmured, embarrassed. "I never thought about going there." Turning back round, she beamed at him. "Thank you so much! Here," she said, pulling a white flower from the wagon and presenting it to him. As he accepted it, feeling surprisingly awkward, she added, "White is a peaceful color. You looked like you had a lot on your mind."
Sephiroth, who had often been accused of being stone-faced by even his closest companions, knew very well he had not revealed his mood and eyed her with renewed interest. But he politely thanked her and tucked the flower away.
The girl laid her two flowers gently atop the others, gathered the rope attached to the end of the wagon, and started walking away. "Thanks again!" she called over her shoulder, flashing him another smile.
Sephiroth waited until she had chosen a spot in the alley next to the theater before going on his way. As he ascended the steps leading to the train platform he withdrew the flower. It had a faint but pleasant fragrance he found comforting. A tiny smile worked at the corners of his mouth. Angeal had often stressed how effective plants were on people. Such commentary had always been met with some amusement (and mild annoyance) but today, Sephiroth had to agree.