Hello again everyone! As i promised, this is the first of three prequels to Irony of Fate written by JenesisX. Yes, that means i did not write it. However, for those of you who haven't read my note at the top of Irony of Fate, these were some great fanfics (Irony of Fate, a masterpiece in FFVII fanfiction) that are now unavailable to the many people who enjoyed it. [These were posted on hometown and aol site that is now shut down] I had copies of all of her FFVII stories and decided that it would be selfish to keep these to myself. JenesisX it appears is no longer contactable as it has been 12 years since she wrote some of these. Thank you for reading this short notice and here is the first of three prequels to Irony of Fate :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII or Through the Window. Through the Window is written by JenesisX.

Sephiroth looked at her with brief flash of amazement. "And how do you know this?"

"Because I'm your mother," Lucrecia smiled. "I was not there, but I know you." She paused as if trying to remember something before going on. "Remember that winter night about eight years ago, when you had just returned from a mission in North Corel?"

"You know about that?"

"Yes... On that night, I was watching you," Lucrecia said. "You were tired and frustrated, and you stood at your window watching the snow fall outside on the practice field."

Sephiroth nodded. "Yes... I remember."

"You stood there and watched the snow fall, and you felt the emptiness in your chest like a gaping hole you couldn't ever hope to fill," Lucrecia said softly. "You thought that there wasn't a person alive who loved you, or who would ever love you. You felt so alone at that moment that you felt you might burst. You told yourself that you didn't care, but you did, so much that it hurt like a knife through your heart. You felt tears fill your eyes but you held them back... You haven't cried since you were four years old and were locked in a closet for over two days, just because your nanny was tired of watching you."

"You... you know all this?" Sephiroth asked, looking frightened. He wondered what else she knew and shivered.

"Yes..." Lucrecia said, wiping a tear that escaped from her eye. "In your worst times, when the sorrow and loneliness were too much for you to bear alone, I was there, looking over your shoulder. All those times that you would return from missions and battles, from being praised as the greatest warrior alive, when you would curl up in that blue chair and wonder who you really were... I was there with you. You were never really alone, even when you thought that you could drop off of the planet and no one would ever know."

"I cannot believe... you know this..." Sephiroth whispered. "No one ever knew how I felt... I never told. I couldn't."

"I know," Lucrecia said. "You had too much pride to admit how lost and alone you felt. You would never ask for help, not even when you were certain you crazy. You were taught to hide your feelings from the time you were a baby, because warriors never showed such weakness..."

"That's right," Sephiroth agreed. "Only, I do not think I have any feelings at all... They are something lost to me that I have never understood..."

"That is only because no one ever showed you how it felt," Lucrecia told him. "You can only learn to feel by having those around you feel for you. Your emotions are there, Sephiroth, you just have to want to find them."

Sephiroth & Lucrecia, Chapter 4: Rebirth, Irony of Fate

Through the Window

By JenesisX

Winter was a magical time for many people, and the first snowfall of the season seemed to bring out something special in everyone from young children to adults. It was no different on the Upper Plate of Midgar, the usual training field of the army having been turned into a snowy playground despite its proximity to Shin-ra Headquarters. Crowds of people ranging in age from toddlers to the elderly had already gathered to enjoy the beautiful weather and partake in the appropriate winter games as large, white flakes continued to fall from the darkening sky. Children ran and threw snowballs while others built forts and snow figures, couples walked together and caught snowflakes on their tongues, and others were content to simply stand by and watch the activities with pure joy and amazement. No one, however, was aware of the figure watching over them from fifteen stories above, and he rather liked it that way.

Standing before the large floor-to-ceiling window that made up nearly one entire wall of his living quarters, General Sephiroth watched the field far below with a quiet detachment, his arms folded sternly across his chest. Standing at the window was one of his favorite places to think, as he could look out and no one else could see in. Being so high above everyone and everything else made for an interesting perspective as well, he'd always thought. He could see for miles around the city, all without taking a step. Sephiroth knew Midgar well, as he did most of the entire planet due to his travels with SOLDIER, but it was the small field almost directly below him that held his attention now.

Snow was just another form of rain to Sephiroth, a kind of weather that would ordinarily have people complaining and running for shelter. But just because it was colder and in a new form, everyone was suddenly happy and eager to experience it. It made no sense to him, as did many human behaviors considered to be normal by the population at large. In his eyes, weather was something inevitable that changed from day to day, and one simply had to deal with it and move on regardless of its form. Why everyone was making such a big deal of the foot of snow that had already fallen was beyond him as he observed the scene from his perch, shaking his head in mild annoyance. Why did people insist on being so fickle and difficult to understand?

Sephiroth had only returned home a few hours before, having been on an assignment to oversee a new mining expedition near North Corel. It had been a dull and frustrating week, and returning home to all of the fuss about a simple thing like snow had only darkened his mood. Upon arriving in Headquarters, he had quickly written up a report on the successful mission, wordlessly handed it to one of the secretaries in the building, then returned to his room and locked the door, wanting no parts of the excited people or the weather.

Once alone, though, he found he could not escape it after all. He supposed he could have closed the blinds, but when he had moved to the window to do so, he found himself drawn instead to the scene below and could not look away. It was ridiculous, he told himself repeatedly, yet he remained there, watching like some sort of god in the heavens, confused by all of the excitement below and trying to figure out what it all meant. He felt separate from it all, though within seconds he could have easily become at least a physical part of the activity. He was only twenty-two years old, yet he was the head of Shin-ra's most elite army division and both respected and feared around the Planet. His status elevated him above all others in many ways, making it even harder for him to blend in then it had been already before all of the fame and glory. For a moment, he felt almost like a powerful super being, standing high above all of humanity and watching their every move with a critical gaze. But after a moment, a more troubling thought occurred to him, turning his mouth down into a troubled frown. What if it was really he who was being watched, kept trapped behind a glass wall as others observed from the other side?

He wasn't sure where the thought had come from, but it sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. Perhaps he was simply tired. He hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours, after all, or eaten for that matter. Or maybe it was his brief conversation with Professor Hojo when first he had arrived home... The strange little man always unnerved Sephiroth, a childish reaction he could never quite suppress. But whatever the cause, Sephiroth slowly began to realize that his isolation high above the others was not a choice he had made only for that evening. No, it was a fact that had ruled over his entire life, a cold hand maintaining a firm grip on him and keeping him firmly isolated from the others... They were the normal people, and try as he might he was not permitted to join them.

Sephiroth's green Mako eyes focussed on a group of small boys a moment later, watching intently as they ran about chasing each other and playfully throwing snowballs. He could almost hear their laughter and squeals of delight in his mind as he stood there, studying the children with a rising jealousy that seemed ridiculous at his age. Why would he be envious of children at play, after all? He was the most skilled fighter alive and the most powerful man in SOLDIER... But what was it like, he wondered, to simply relax and have fun with others of one's own age? As a child, he had not had that experience. He was kept apart from other children, directed toward training and learning to fight from the time he could walk. The concept of play was alien and strange to him, yet at the same time, he knew it was something he should have understood. The feeling that something was missing in his past suddenly became nearly overwhelming, his chest tightening even as he took a deep breath and told himself that he was being silly. Once he slept off his exhaustion, everything would be fine, and his thoughts would return to their usual order, he assured himself. They had to...

A moment later, his eyes left the group of children and settled upon a family, a mother, father, and two children building a snowman together. What was the purpose? he wondered absently. They were only wasting their time and energy. Soon, the snow would melt, or the plows would come and knock it down, and all of their efforts would have been for naught. Still, they seemed to enjoy the pointless activity, laughing and helping each other as if they truly enjoyed being together. Sephiroth sighed as the mother hugged one of the children close to her, the tightening in his chest only increasing. He did not even know his mother... She was long dead, he'd been told. All he had of her was an empty, faceless name and a multitude of questions without answers. No one seemed to know the identity his father, let alone what had become of him before Sephiroth was born. What was it like to know one's parents, and to spend time with them? And what of brothers and sisters? He knew that he had no siblings, but had occasionally wondered what it would have been like. His life certainly would not have been so lonely...

Lonely? What was wrong with him, he wondered, thinking such things... He was surely not lonely. He had his career, his training, and endless missions and battles in the war with Wutai to occupy his time. He was constantly among his soldiers and those they were involved with, and he often wished he could be alone and away from them all at those times. Yet when he was alone at the end of the day, as he was now, Sephiroth realized that something that should have been was... simply absent. Thinking of the quarters of other soldiers he had seen, he realized what that something might be.

In his spacious living quarters, there was almost nothing of a personal nature that spoke to those few who entered about who resided inside. Certainly the Masamune hanging sheathed beside his bed was a good clue, but it was only his weapon, after all. Others had pictures of family members, statues and collectibles, books, and even games strewn about, speaking of those things they loved and values most in life. Sephiroth did have books, as he liked to read a great deal, but he admitted that almost all of them were about wars, strategies, or famous battle heroes. He had a television, but he rarely watched anything aside from the news on occasion. He preferred to read the paper to that, though, since it lacked the annoying, overly cheerful newscasters that made his blood run cold. Looking about at the immaculately neat, almost empty room, Sephiroth realized how very empty his personal dwelling appeared, as if no one was really there at all. Was that how his heart would appear if it could be removed from his chest and studied? Shaking his head, he ran a nervous hand through his long bangs, trying again to vanish such thoughts and return his mind to its usual order.

When he looked out the window again, still unsure of why he was suddenly so fixated on the scene below, he noticed a man and woman walking at the outskirts of the field, holding hands and staying very close to one another. They were obviously a couple, he realized, and seemed to be enjoying the evening together despite the cold. In fact, they didn't seem to notice much of anything going on around them, completely focussed on each other as they walked. Every so often, one would turn to the other and smile warmly, a visible affection in their expressions even from where he stood. Did they love each other?, he wondered absently. He had always heard from those around him that falling in love was one of the most wonderful experiences in life, yet he had never experienced the feeling for himself. He knew he was considered handsome, and that many people, male and female, greatly admired and looked up to him. Yet, he had never gone out on a date, much less had a girlfriend or fallen in love. He always told himself and those brave enough to ask that he simply had no interest or time for such things, but now he began to wonder. Was that the real reason, or was it something else? Was he even capable of feeling love? He wasn't sure... He couldn't recall ever having loved anyone throughout his life, and knew with certainty that no one had felt that way for him. Would they ever, or was love something a man such as he was not meant to have? Was he truly that cold, that different...? Swallowing hard, Sephiroth felt the tightness and tension throughout his body increase further. Didn't anyone care for him at all? Painfully, he found the answer to be no.

Gritting his teeth, Sephiroth lifted a hand to the window before him, resting his palm against the cool glass and spreading his fingers as if to test that the invisible barrier was really there. Sure enough, it stopped his hand from passing through, just as some unknown yet powerful force he didn't understand kept him from understanding others, and from being loved. He stared at his hand for long moments, again wondering what the number one tattooed on his flesh meant and where it had come from. Perhaps it was a curse set upon him at birth, a cruel indicator of what life would have in store for him. Let no one who bears this symbol be accepted by his fellow man or loved by anyone, including his own parents... No one who had left their own child alone to such an existence could possibly have loved him. Was he so terrible a person that his own mother had chosen death to avoid him? Had he caused his father to run away?

Sephiroth felt rare tears fill his eyes as he stared at the feint reflection of himself cast upon the smooth glass, the thoughts and fears he was usually so easily able to suppress and deny rising up to drown his heart in grief. No, he would not cry, he told himself firmly. Infants cried... Warriors never showed such weakness, and grown men certainly did not shed tears. Swallowing hard and closing his eyes, begging an unspecified person or power for control, he managed to hold them back and bite down on his feelings yet again. But when he opened his eyes, watching as the people below began to disperse in groups to the warmth of their homes for the evening, he felt as hopeless and alone as before.

His heart heavy with fears and questions that were usually so easy to ignore or bury beneath his work, Sephiroth turned away from the window, telling himself that he didn't need those who did not accept him. He did not need to be a part of their world when he had survived so long on his own. But did he want to join them? No, he wouldn't waste his time on such thoughts! Of course he didn't, and even if he had, he wouldn't have been allowed to leave the prison of isolation that had been built around him since his birth. Sinking into the soft, blue chair beside his bed that he often used for reading at night, Sephiroth wondered just how much he had helped to build that prison. What is wrong with me? Am I crazy?

Folding his arms across his chest as if to shield his heart from further pain, Sephiroth rested his head against the cushions and sighed. At that moment, alone in a dim, nearly empty room, he felt as if he could fall off the face of the Planet and no one would ever know. Well, at least not until the next battle, he thought bitterly. That was the only reason people admired him, he realized shakily. He was willing to risk his own life time and again to keep them and those they loved safe. They did not care about him. He could die tomorrow on the battlefield, and as long as Shin-ra won in the end, what would it matter if he were gone? His eyes again burning with tears, Sephiroth squeezed them shut, trying to shut out the pain as surely as he tried to contain his emotions.

Sephiroth suddenly stood again and slowly returned to the window, this time looking straight down at the concrete walkway below. He had so far to fall... What would happen, he wondered, if he were to fall through the window separating him from the outside? Would anyone care then? The answer remained the same as before, and Sephiroth felt himself lift his hands to slowly unlatch the window and begin to slide it open to the side.

A blast of cold air quickly rushed through the crack, as if grateful to finally have the opportunity to get inside and further chill him. Opening the window until there was a space just wide enough for him to slip through, Sephiroth examined the small ledge jutting out from a few inches below, a mockery of a safety net that seemed to be placed there for the sole purpose of laughing at him and trying to further keep him apart from the others. There was no escape, no matter what he did. Even if he fell, Sephiroth realized he probably would not have died. His body had an incredible rate of healing itself, and would only repair the otherwise fatal damage as it had so many times in the past. What would be for others a blessing, he found an endless curse of continued existance.

I am not crazy! Cautiously, Sephiroth began to step out onto the narrow ledge, only the tips of his boots preventing him from plummeting to the ground. Standing there in the cold, the wind and snow assaulting him as he held onto the frame of the window, Sephiroth closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the night air. Was it so much better here on the outside?, he wondered. Or am I still trapped behind yet another invisible wall of glass?

Suddenly, he simply had to know. If he fell, would another wall stop him? Or would he hit the ground like everyone else? One by one, he began to release his finger holds on the inside of the window frame, until he stood precariously on the small ledge alone, balanced only by the tips of his toes. No one was watching... They would never know, not until someone came along and found him lying there in the morning. If he ever reached the ground...

Closing his eyes, Sephiroth bent his knees and prepared to jump out and away from the building, wanting to be sure he'd reach the ground below and did not hit the side of the structure as he fell. But suddenly, mere fractions of a second before he allowed himself to fall, a strange voice in his head shouted out to him in terror, commanding him to stop. Sephiroth's eyes snapped open in fear and confusion, and in the shock of the moment he nearly lost his balance. Arms flailing wildly, he fought to keep from pitching forward as he lost his stance on the ledge, and when he reached out for help he found nothing to save himself. Too late, Sephiroth realized with utter horror what he'd been about to do, and now there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Closing his eyes, realizing that he was going to fall and accepting his fate as inevitable and what he deserved for his foolish behavior, Sephiroth was amazed when, a moment later, a strong wind slammed him back against the side of the building, nearly pinning him to the cold stone and keeping him from falling forward. Reaching out with both hands, he managed to grab hold of the window frame once again, pulling himself inside a moment later.

Once safely back on the other side of the window, Sephiroth immediately slammed the sliding pane of glass shut and firmly locked it. His heart was pounding rapidly in his chest, and he was breathing was ragged and panicked. Gods, what did I almost do? Looking out through the window, down at the hard, unforgiving ground below, Sephiroth was more afraid than he'd ever been in his entire life. Would I have really done it? Am I really losing my mind? But then... What made me stop?

Closing the blinds as if to block out the terror of what had almost happened, Sephiroth returned to the chair in which he'd briefly been seated, his entire body shaking as his mind replayed over and over what he had almost done. But something made him stop... Indeed, it had almost seemed as if some kind of power had kept him from falling and helped him to get back inside. Closing his eyes, his exhaustion suddenly caught up with him as his body slowly relaxed from its ordeal. Maybe it really was all due to exhaustion, and things would seem different after he rested...

As he quickly drifted off to sleep, a strange warmth washed over Sephiroth, calming his troubled thoughts and washing away all of the pain and doubt that had nearly driven him to the unthinkable minutes before. In that moment, as the last of his conscious thoughts were lost to sleep, Sephiroth didn't feel alone anymore. And though he wouldn't remember it in the morning, the same voice that had earlier commanded him not to jump again spoke in the back of his mind, filled with the love and concern he had secretly yearned for all his life.

Your mother loves you, Sephiroth...

~~ The End ~~

This has been a story I couldn't get out of my head since writing Chapter Four of Irony of Fate early last year. And last weekend, when it was snowing out, and I'd been having a down day, the scene from that chapter popped back into my head again. And since I'd been trying to think of something special to do for the site's birthday, I decided to go with it . I wrote half of it over the weekend, and the rest Tuesday afternoon. I didn't intend it to be a long story, something closer to what The Fall of an Angel was. It's reflective... Not much happens outside of Sephiroth's head. I feel this kind of writing is my strength, and it's what I most enjoy doing. Anyway, I hoped the that excerpt from Irony of Fate would set the mood and remind everyone just where this scene comes from. And, of course, explain the voice and the feelings being cast on Sephiroth at the end. Please say you knew it was Lucrecia and not Jenova! I was attempting to show how Lucrecia was there with Sephiroth when he felt most alone, just as she stated in Chapter 4. I have a strong bond with my own mother, so I believe she'd have a powerful influence, dead or not. As for the title, I originally named it Through the Window simply because Sephiroth was doing just that- Looking through the window. But as I wrote, it came to me to have him consider and partially attempt to 'escape' by jumping... you guessed it... through the window =) ::Giggle:: I'm rather proud of that!

Anyway, I guess that's all I have to say. I was just hoping to add some depth to Sephiroth's true character, what he was before Nibelheim. This story can be used just as a FFVII story following actual game continuity, but set in the past before those events took place, or as another lead-up to Irony of Fate, which is really my intention since it ties right into Chapter 4. This was a nice break from IoF, but I will be getting back to that now. Thanks, everyone! And as usual, I'd love to hear your comments on this!