This chapter is dedicated to my friend Bre, because it's her birthday today (Oct 4) and this is her present. She always encourages me when she sees me writing too. Happy Birthday Bre! You're awesome girl!

Also, a few terms: ototousan - little brother, niisan - big brother, gomen - sorry, and if I find any more I'll put them in the next chapter. For all the non-Japanese speakers out there. /smiles/

Also also, until I get the new prompts I've got typed up, there will be a hold on posts. Just so's ya know. But I haven't stopped this fic. Remember I'm using it as a buffer so there will (hopefully) never be more than a three week wait for updates again. Thanks for your understanding.

Anyway, enjoy le fic. XD

Chapter 4 – Midnight Sorrow

It was getting very late the next night, yet Kadaj's lamp wasn't the only one still burning. Yazoo had spent his entire Sunday attacking the heavy task that was taxes and now sat at his desk, going over the tax reports one last time before he sent them off. Cloud's last cheque had covered everything and they still had enough from their own savings for basic necessities. Yazoo sighed and rubbed his eyes, relieved. Glancing at the clock, he jumped when he realised how late it was. Almost one o'clock… damn… I didn't even notice… He was about to wrap it up for the night when a soft knocking sounded at his door.

'Enter.'

Kadaj poked his head in, looking dazed.

'…'Daj?' This was the first time Yazoo had seen him properly since Friday evening in the bar. 'Come in. What's wrong?'

His younger brother met his eyes and Yazoo was surprised to see them glowing as they never had before.

'…I've done it.'

'You're finished?'

Kadaj sprinted forward abruptly to take his brother by the shoulders, excitement lighting his face. 'No, I haven't just finished… this is the one. This is it, 'Zoo. I'm going to send this one off.'

Yazoo started a bit, then relaxed. '…you've said this before…'

Kadaj's eyes blazed. 'Yes, but this time I mean it. I'm sending it off tomorrow.'

Aqua-coloured eyes, so much like his own, met Kadaj's with a look of tolerant affection. 'Alright. We'll send it off in the morning. Right now, you should get some sleep. You look exhausted; you've been up for almost forty-eight hours.'

Kadaj's face fell at his brother's somewhat dismissive words. '…Niisan… you've lost faith in me…'

Yazoo exhaled slowly; he hadn't meant to upset him. 'No, I haven't, Kadaj,' he replied, choosing his words carefully. 'I just… think it's time to try new things. Loz and I are looking for proper jobs… we're thinking of settling here. This way, we can be near some family at least and hopefully we'll get some stability back into our lives. I'm not saying don't be a songwriter… but until you get your break you've still got to find a way to live. We're going to be job-hunting soon… come with us. We'll find you something you'll enjoy and I promise you'll still have time to write.'

Kadaj just looked at him for a moment, then he let his chin drop to his chest with a heavy sigh, his bangs shadowing his eyes so that Yazoo could not read them. 'I don't… want you to have to work anymore. I want you to be able to relax. You haven't been relaxed since Mother died. Loz… I want him to be able to go to the gym whenever he wants, or take someone out for dinner when he can. I want you both to be happy. I don't want to have to rely on measly jobs. I know I can make it big, not for me, but for you… and Mother. She wanted us to have more than what we did before she died. That's why we went touring, right? She wanted that for us. And I want this for us.'

Yazoo had gone very quiet at Kadaj's mention of their mother; she was not something the three regularly discussed. He took a slow breath, re-gathered his thoughts and stood up. Pulling Kadaj into his arms he embraced him, running his fingers through the boy's hair.

'Oh 'Daj… I'm sorry. I'm sorry because of the weight you bear. You saw it and we didn't… you were there when we lost her and I never stopped to consider what it would do to you. All this time, you've been carrying it and your songs are your release from the pain. I never realised. I should have listened to you better. If you can forgive me, we'll send your song off tomorrow and I'll be praying the hardest that it gets through.' He pulled away to look his brother in the eye, fondness shining in both aqua sets. 'Will that do ototousan?'

Kadaj nodded and hugged his brother again. 'Thanks niisan. That'll be fine.'

Yazoo smiled and shooed Kadaj toward the door. 'Go get some sleep. I'll see if I can find my stamps…' He glanced around his room wearily; the place was covered in papers. 'Oy… that might take some doing…'

Kadaj chuckled tiredly. 'I'll help you in the morning…' He trailed off as a huge yawn threatened to break his jaw.

'Go to bed, ototousan. Don't worry about anything for tonight, okay?'

The younger brother nodded, already half asleep. Yazoo stuck his head out into the hall to make sure Kadaj didn't collapse or anything on the way to his room, then shut his door and turned out his own light. Within five minutes the Shinrova household was completely silent but for the sound of light snoring from three very tired brothers.

The next morning Yazoo surprised himself by waking much later than was customary for him. Rising, he dressed quickly and started downstairs as usual, but for some reason this morning he paused by Kadaj's door. Usually he only knocked and hollered for Kadaj to get up, but instead he stepped up to the door and as silently as possible opened it and entered.

Kadaj's room was just as cluttered as Yazoo's. Papers were strewn everywhere, many of them crumpled up into little balls. Yazoo's eyes travelled over some of the un-crumpled ones, immediately recognising his brother's haphazard handwriting. The room was filled with half-finished songs, or perhaps half-forgotten memories that Kadaj had attempted to put down on paper. Yazoo let out a soft sigh. I should have listened to his songs more closely… I might have noticed earlier… they're always so sad…

His eyes fell on his brother then; the young man was sprawled on his bed, still half dressed from the night before and snoring into his pillow. A wave of guilt hit Yazoo as he realised Kadaj looked so much younger when he was asleep, almost as though he was back with their mother before the war, before the pain. I've been so wrapped up in my own grief… and his songs brought that back to me, made me remember what I wanted to forget… Mother… he wants to remember you. The eldest shut his eyes for a moment, fighting with himself; then he dropped his hand affectionately onto Kadaj's head. I'll make it up to you, brother. He reached down and pulled the covers up over Kadaj before turning to leave the room.

As he did so, something on Kadaj's bedside table caught his eye. It was another piece of paper, but this one was neatly printed and completely smooth. Yazoo paused, glanced warily at his sleeping sibling, then picked up the sheet and read it. It was a song Yazoo had never seen before, with instructions at the bottom as to what Kadaj envisioned for the music. Underneath the sheet was a disc which Kadaj had obviously burned himself, most likely with the music for the song on it. Yazoo blinked, read the paper again and suddenly smiled.

…Midnight Sorrow… interesting…

Replacing the paper, he stepped quietly into the hall and shut the door, entirely missing the pair of sleepy aqua eyes that had been observing him since he entered the room.

In the hall, Yazoo met Loz, who was just coming out of the bathroom.

'Mornin' 'Zoo. Sleep well?'

Yazoo answered almost absently. 'Yes, brother… I feel very much better.'

Loz sent him an odd look, then shrugged and said, 'That's good. What's for breakfast?'

'Toast. You've eaten all the eggs.'

'Darnit.'

After a minor squabble over who was going to be the one to get groceries this time, both of them settled into breakfast with a will. Yazoo was particularly hungry after his long night. They had to open the bar tonight; Loz suggested that they leave a decent length of time to set up with, as they had been rather rushed on Friday and Loz did not like having to rush any more than Yazoo did. They were similar in that respect; Kadaj was always the one who ran around in a flap if he ran out of time. (And considering his penchant for getting lost in his work, this happened quite often.) The rest of the day was theirs, however, and they decided to make good use of their time by going downtown.

'We can job hunt while we're wandering around,' Yazoo explained to Kadaj once he had woken up. 'I've still got to find my stamps… can we send your song in when we get back, 'Daj?'

The young songwriter bit his lip nervously, a look of consternation on his face. 'Um… well… actually, I was thinking this morning…'

Yazoo sighed inwardly; his brother, for all intents and purposes, looked like he was going to withdraw his statement yet again. However, his interest returned when Kadaj continued. 'I was thinking that I should send it in to Cloud. I know he doesn't know I write music, and he's away right now, so his associates probably won't figure out we're related.'

'Why would that be a problem?' Yazoo asked.

Kadaj ran his fingers through his hair; he had done extensive research on the industry at the beginning of his 'career' and knew what Yazoo did not. 'There's a certain unspoken rule that producers have to be careful about showing favouritism, because it can be construed as trying to push certain kinds of music or certain artists when producers are supposed to give everyone a fair chance. I don't want to put Cloud in a position like that, so it's better if I remain anonymous.'

Yazoo sent his brother a very odd look, but shrugged and nodded. 'Well, I always did wonder why you never told Cloud about your music… he still thinks you write poems… but now I understand. He'll recognise your name eventually, but if that's the way you want to play it, alright. If you'll package it up, we'll take the song downtown when we go.'

'Thanks 'Zoo. Trust me, it'll be better this way.'

'I hope so, for your sake, ototousan.'

Loz came bounding down the stairs, freshly showered and dressed, and bounced into the living room where the other two were. 'Are we going?' he asked excitedly.

'Yes, once 'Daj finishes his coffee,' Yazoo grinned at his youngest brother's hyperactivity. 'But don't forget the bat this time.'

'The bat?' Loz scratched his head in confusion.

Yazoo's lips twitched. 'Yes, to beat the fangirls off.'

Loz blushed scarlet. 'Zooooooo!'

Kadaj snorted into his coffee mug. 'What?'

'Don't ask!' Loz protested.

'I am asking!'

'Well don't!'

'Tell me anyway!'

'Noes!'

WHUMPH.

'Hey, no throwing pillows!'

'Don't ask then!'

It was another hour before the trio headed downtown, still laughing and picking feathers out of their hair.

One bike race later, all three were standing outside ShinRa Corporations, Kadaj clutching a manila envelope tight enough to crinkle it. As Yazoo and Loz dug spare change out of their many pockets to put in the parking meters, Kadaj took a moment and inhaled deeply, trying to prepare himself mentally for the possibility of rejection. It happened all the time, he knew; no matter how good a song might appear, if the producers who screened it weren't satisfied the song would never make it through.

Standing there on the sidewalk, inches away from his destiny, Kadaj silently prayed that Midnight Sorrow would make it, if only well enough to enable his brothers to relax. I so desperately want them to be able to live without worry… I know it might seem a little unreasonable and there will always be worries for us, but if I can lessen them even a bit… if this song can help me do that… please… let it pass their judgement…

He was pulled from his reflective state by a comforting hand on his shoulder.

'Come on 'Daj…' Loz said encouragingly. 'If you don't do it now, you might never manage it. Go on, it'll be fine… and we'll still be your brothers afterward.'

Glancing behind him, Kadaj saw both his siblings smiling at him, the sort of smile that conveys both pride and companionship in one. They were letting him know, without words, that they were already proud of him for coming this far. Grinning back, Kadaj reached out and in one smooth motion slipped the envelope into the slot.

…please…

Fourteen stories above the mailbox that Kadaj was dropping his song into, a familiar blonde tapped a pen against her lips, trying to remember a certain date. Her eyes lit up as it came to her and she quickly scribbled it down. With a delighted whoop, she chucked the pen across the room, barely missing the tall, ebony-haired man who had just opened the door.

'Oops… gomen, Vincent…'

The man chuckled and scooped her pen up off the floor. 'I take it you're finally done your reports, Miss Kurishi?' he asked, handing the writing implement back to her.

Kurry Kurishi smiled sheepishly and nodded. 'Yes! I'm finished! Finally, I can get back to the fun stuff!'

There was a whooshing noise as another figure shot past Vincent in the doorway and pounced on Kurry. 'Yay!' Kitty Tashimono shouted, accidentally deafening her best friend. 'Took you long enough! Now we can go look at those new songs in the inbox.'

Both Kurry and Vincent chuckled fondly at her enthusiasm. The blonde stretched and stood up. 'Yes, let's. I'm sick of this office for now.'

The three friends and co-workers made their way down to the elevator through the floor they had worked on together for the past seven years. ShinRa Corporations was built around the concept of spatial art, conducive of artistic thinking. The first through fifth floors were offices, where employees sorted through and dealt with all the business procedures of ShinRa Corporations. Floors six to ten were recording levels, eleven, twelve and thirteen were mostly storage and maintenance, fourteen was where the executives worked and level fifteen was entirely Cloud Strife's own personal offices. The entire building was modeled to encourage the fullest appreciation of music possible, in order for fair judgement to be passed on the music that was submitted.

Kurry, Kitty and Vincent worked on the fourteenth floor, all three Chief Executive Producers under Cloud. They were responsible for the final screenings of all material that passed through the building, and for setting up recording sessions and release dates. Approvals were officially made by Cloud, but he had never turned down a request that had passed the requirements of his executives. The company was well-run, efficient without being overbearingly strict and its employees had never had a complaint in the seven years since it had re-opened after the war. In fact, under Cloud's direction it had flourished, which is why his right-hand man and two female counterparts had practically forced him to take Tifa on the world tour, as a sort of celebration of their success. Cloud had wanted them all to take the trip, but Kurry and Kitty insisted on staying to take care of ShinRa and Vincent had wisely declined after deciding he didn't want to be the third wheel. Leaving Vincent as temporary president, Cloud had finally consented and broached the subject to Tifa, who loved the idea of a vacation instantly. It had been nearly three months since they left and there hadn't been a hitch once, for which all three officials were expressly grateful. They were still looking forward to their friend's return, however, eager to hear the stories and to have him see some of the new material that had been approved.

Practically bouncing out of the elevator on the first floor, Kitty all but dragged the other two over to the mail desk. 'Got anything for us today, Al?' she asked the young man behind the desk excitedly.

Alphonse Elric, ShinRa's current general manager, chuckled and plucked a set of keys from a hook next to his computer. 'Let's go check, shall we?'

They followed Al down a short corridor that ended in a small locked room. To preserve the sanctity and security of all submitted works, at least two executives had to be present when this particular door was opened, and Al had been granted keeper of the keys in a special contract that stated he could not open the door without the presence of the executives or risk punishment by law. With Kitty, Kurry and Vincent there, he now unlocked it and slipped into the small adjoining chamber, returning swiftly with only one envelope.

'Inspiration must be slow out there today,' he supposed, handing the lone envelope to Kitty. 'Thank you 'Fonz,' she replied, grinning fondly at her bronze-haired friend. 'This'll be sufficient. We'll let you know once we've had a look, ne?'

A budding music publicist, Al nodded eagerly. 'Great, I'll look forward to it.'

They left him to his duties and returned to the fourteenth floor, settling comfortably in the large plush chairs in the room Cloud liked to call the 'Halfway Point'. The Halfway Point was spacious, comfortable, and airy, equipped with a coffee machine, a fridge and a stereo system for sampling new music. The room basically enabled each individual person to experience the new music in his or her own way; Vincent liked to stare out of the huge window over the city as he listened; Kurry always had to snack on something at the same time and Kitty usually curled up in one of the big chairs and closed her eyes so she could really savour the sounds. It was easily the most comfortable room in the building, and it was also the point at which the music either made it halfway to production or was rejected, hence the name.

Now, however, comfort was the last thing on their minds. Vincent and Kurry leaned forward excitedly as Kitty neatly slit the manila envelope and slipped its contents onto her lap.

'Oooh, there's a disk… stick that in the stereo… and here are the lyrics, I think…'

Kurry took the recording and rose to place it in the player. Kitty read the lyrics quickly and passed them to Vincent. 'Looks good to me, Vince…'

'Let's hear the music first, shall we?'

The button was pressed and the first notes began to sift into the room. Kurry slipped over to the fridge and silently took a bowl of grapes from it, plucking one and popping it thoughtfully into her mouth. Then she swept over to the window and borrowed the lyrics from Vincent. 'Hmm…'

'What do you think?' he asked after she'd read the first bit.

'It's… different… interestingly different…' Kurry murmured, barely listening as she tried to imagine how the lyrics would sound with the piano behind them.

…Until then it's her chain

Binding her to life

She'll search for the beat

Until the dawn of the 'morrow

The absence of the music

Is her midnight sorrow…

'I like it,' Kitty said once the music stopped playing. 'It has a very… real flavour to it.'

'I thought that as well,' Vincent said, abandoning the window in favour of his usual chair. 'It is dark, yet full of hope.'

Kurry tapped another grape against her lips, considering all the perspectives of the song. 'The music is haunting, yes, but in a way that implies passion for the dance and the world the girl lives in. It's an excellent message, especially in that the people of our city need reminders of their passion for life while they're in the process of rebuilding it. I really like this one… I think it could be a hit.'

'As do I,' Vincent piped up. 'It is different enough to attract the public's attention. What is the name on the form, Kitty?'

Kitty glanced around for the misplaced paper. Scooping it up, she unfolded it and read aloud. 'Kadaj Shinrova… why does that sound so familiar…?'

Vincent shrugged. 'We'll take a day to think it over and call him, or her, up tomorrow.'

The two women agreed. Kitty packaged everything up again and placed the envelope in the 'progress to conference' inbox, but she couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that she had seen that name somewhere before…

And things start to heat up…. /grin/

Review, please and thanks!