A/N Time: Whelp, as you may have noticed I've blown the proverbial load - lost momentum if you will. The incredibly sad thing is that this entire arc is already written, with at least 2 passes of editing...

Could just be the winter weather, though - hard to type when you can't feel your hands (though thanks to the modern 'marvel' of AC, I cannot feel them for most Texas summers either if I'm indoors...gods I miss the Northeast; cold was different there).

Yeah anyway, still doing the thing, just doing it a bit more slowly. Perhaps this short chapter (before we get into the story within the story) will help with that momentum thing, yes?

-Sephiroth POV -

But I've never...could it be a side-effect of the Jenova experiments?
I was lost, happily lost and unable to look away from the iridescence that was Kilara - our breathing synchronized, hearts beating the same tune. Perhaps I was partially stunned, not just with my previous revelation, but with my own impressions and...interest.
Does it matter?

*Crash!*

I - both of us actually - deliberately attempted to ignore the jarring noise, holding each other's gaze in silent, good-natured challenge. I wondered how long 'Geal and Gen had been watching us, and wasn't at all surprised or even angry that I'd lost a drinking glass for it. Such things were unimportant next to what I felt could possibly be gained if I could cast off the last of that darkness I'd formerly embraced.
For all I eschewed spirituality, Kilara's words echoed again in my mind, "Sometimes the gods, they set up the pieces..."

Lamentably, that interruption did pull us back to reality, despite our attempts to overlook the jarring effect of the noise. Her face was one of complete serenity despite, "Thank you," Kilara bowed unnecessarily. "That was an...enchanting and challenging session. But," she caught my eyes, head tilted with a look of pure satisfaction just the same, "you were holding back?" And again I saw a spark of mischief arc across her eyes.

This woman...
I could not help the small smile, but wore my own calm expression, nodding as I could not argue against her point.
I had held back.
I had and I would still, at least until I knew I could trust myself as much as she seemed to.
Yes, this woman...

Anyway and confusing thoughts aside, normalcy returned while I took the training swords back to the wall; Kilara began re-attaching her dagger belt, which she'd removed for the session. I took my time adjusting the tools, waiting until my sparring partner was almost finished with her own work, and speaking just before she made to leave.

"Kilara, tell me - what did you think of that s..." I was going to ask about the replica sword, but something in the girl's colour, and the way she was leaning with a hand on the wall, troubled me. "Kilara? Are you well?"
She was not, but I did not yet comprehend why, suppressing the rising panic I felt was a new experience all by itself; for the moment my discomfort was not important.
She had yet to answer, and her eyes didn't look to be focusing properly.
I did not do this? I was very careful, and we were having fun...weren't we?

The girl's palm shot out, stopping me, but not before I got close enough to see that she was shaking. "I am well, just..." Kilara was far less than well, in my opinion. "I did not track time," she attempted to laugh, "maybe and perhaps...I apologize but if I could trouble you for some juice or sugar water? Truly I am fine, nothing worth concern."

Hypoglycemia...I should have known! Damnit!
When I, myself, had last eaten was nearly a mystery, and I knew Kilara had not since I'd found her; she wasn't well fed to begin with, either. And yes, I should have known - I was trained to fight through pain, fatigue, and hunger - it makes sense that she would have been as well.
Putting aside thoughts of new and exquisitely cruel ways I'd make Hojo suffer when I found him, as well as the question of when I'd lost my own definition of justice in exchange for ShinRa's - nobody should starve in this world of plenty - I approached Kilara slowly. I doubted she could, let alone should, walk in that state.
I don't even remember the last time I patrolled the slums, let alone cared as I used to about the injustice and poverty there...why are they so ignored and exploited? *sigh* One thing, one change, at a time Sephiroth - focus.

Kilara didn't fight when I scooped her into my arms. I did have to hide a shock of sadness at her sudden tension, but both reactions quickly dissipated; once Kilara relaxed it was a quick trip to the kitchen, where I began searching not just for sugar, but ideally also some form of protein and fiber to balance and hold her over until the others arrived with proper food.

Peanut butter from the pantry, paired with an apple and some cheese I'd found in the refrigerator, would work nicely, all things considered. After setting Kilara at the table and pouring the last of an orange juice carton, I let curiosity wander whilst working to prepare the rest. "I'd lost track of the days, we should have done this first."
Smile? It is not the most uplifting subject, but it is something.

Deciding to prod, I added, "If you don't mind," Kilara took small sips of my offering, looking like she felt guilty for even that much; likely ashamed to not be self sufficient.
I won't kill him, no, I'll think of something worse...
Either way, he was not a subject I wanted to broach just yet, and so continued my first question instead. "When was the last time you had a decent meal?" The other one, the dead child, had looked better taken care of. Perhaps I was a overly blunt, but was also curious as to whether there was a difference between us; I was not raised to sacrifice myself for others, but would bet she went without for the sake of the younger one.

"I am unsure," Kilara answered, continuing when I chose to remain silent.
"It is better here than in the city," she argued, eyes lowered but smiling. This was not a smile I wanted to see though; it was the kind of sad, defeated smile that could force even a thing like myself to sympathy, if not empathy. "But with the cold snap, and the new creatures scaring off small game...this autumn has been difficult."

Makonoids - another reason to hate that man, I fought back anger, setting the snacks on the table and deciding to leave a seat empty between Kilara and I before sitting as well. That subject was one I wished to avoid, and so after some back and forth where the girl insisted I take some fuel for myself, I changed the subject to something that was (at least comparatively) less disturbing.
Already, she was looking healthier, from the juice alone.
Good. Note - I need to feed her more often...if she forgets, that is. She's not a pet; she's not mine.
Yet.

Possessiveness was a new and slightly distressing whim, and was yet another I'd be pleased to not discuss. This left only one option, if I wanted to avoid uncomfortable silence. "Kilara - tell me, what did you think of that practice sword - it's only wood, but a well made replica. I'd have your thoughts?" the question was accompanied by a slight tiling of my head; the goal was to sound casual, yet interested enough to procure an honest answer.
One warrior to another, that's all; I'm only curious. Surely the old man was crazy.

"Oh, Mr...err...Sephiroth! It is an exquisite piece! Even for a model, the balance, the weight, everything felt like it was an extension of my own self. It's been a few years since I'd even held one, but that...it was amazing. Thank you, I will cherish the experience." She'd closed her eyes and, I think, even bowed slightly.

My pulse quickened, behaving erratically in reaction to Kilara's choice of words.
An extension of yourself?
Nothing left to lose, so much to gain...
Fuck, no! Wait...yes? I do not know fear.
I chose to gamble.

"There's a story behind that sword, and the true blade it represents. Would you like to hear it?" I inquired as casually as I could manage, all while remembering the details and organizing them in my mind. I knew she'd say yes.
She had to...it was fate...even if I'd never believed in such a thing.

"Oh yes, I'd love to - please," Kilara replied with an honestly interested look.
I caught her eyes, "I'm glad - come let's walk and talk, perhaps I'll show you around as well," I said, slowly rising to turn towards the kitchen's exit. "Not many people know this story - it's also the tale of how I acquired my own blade, Masamune."
I thought I heard a sound of awe escape her lips. Yes, it was a fine blade - both in the set were.