Sephiroth was sad the day they burrowed young Cadet Thomson.

It was so strange, the feeling of sadness. He rarely felt it. But for once, he felt it as they lowered that horribly young child into the ground.

The funeral was small, almost insignificant in a way. The boy's family was there, and a few fellow Cadets. And Sephiroth. Everyone kept looking his way, glancing and looking away if he returned the stare. He hadn't changed out of his uniform. He had come here straight from the hospital where Genesis currently recovered from his near death experience.

It had been such a beautiful day. Their mission had been simple, or so they had thought. Genesis had infiltrated the rebel base with his team of Firsts, Seconds and a bunch of Cadets they had brought along because of the low level that mission had. Sephiroth stayed outside with his own team to catch the escaping rebels. Perfect training, they had decided.

It hadn't turned out very smooth. Someway, somehow, the rebels had gotten their hands of a bunch of former Shinra employees from the Science Department. They had developed special kind of bullet enhanced with pure Mako and Materia, which could, unlike ordinary bullets, hurt and even kill a SOLDIER. Even First Classes.

They got maimed. With the bullets spewing all around them, all the infiltrating group could do was to seek cover. Genesis took two bullets to the chest and one to the shin. He would have died. He would have died there that day had not a lone Cadet (who had survived by pure luck, having one of the other Cadets landing on him as he died, providing cover) grabbed his Commander's uninjured leg and dragged his 150kg heavily enhanced body to safety. The Cadet, Thomson, could just have run himself. No one would have blamed him, not even Sephiroth. But he didn't. He forced his weak, non-enhanced body to drag along that of his Commander, who he wasn't even sure lived anymore.

And he saved Genesis' life. He managed to get him outside before the suicide bombs the rebels had planted exploded. He got far enough away from the explosion to save his Commander's life, but not his own. He was hit in the back of the head by debris while shielding Genesis' unconscious body with his own, frailer one. He died immediately.

Genesis was saved. Sephiroth remembered cradling his lover's body in his arms seconds after the explosion. He had looked down on the boy. His eyes were wide open, unreadable in death. They were brown; a deep and warm color. His hair was dark blonde, or so Sephiroth thought. The unruly hair was so bloody. The back of his head was missing, crushed, and the brain spilled to the dirty ground in a mess of grey and slime.

He couldn't be more than 16 years old.

Sephiroth felt sick.

And grateful.

So grateful.

And sad.

So sad...

As he carried Genesis to the medical helicopter, he asked Zack to check up the boy. For once, he actually wanted to go to a funeral for one of his men. Before, he had only been forced when a First Class died.

He didn't like funerals, because he rarely felt sad on them, and that made him feel so inhumane. But this time, he felt true sorrow. For once he actually did.

The funeral was over, and Sephiroth was just about to leave to go back to Genesis again when they approached. The young Cadet's family. Poor people, underplate people. They must have been so proud of their son to make it into the army. And now he was dead, before he could make it to SOLDIER, before he could truly live. 16 years old. He felt sick when they thanked him for coming. He felt sick about how admiring and damn grateful they were for him to come. So thankful, so grateful, and Sephiroth couldn't escape quick enough. He just couldn't handle it. He felt sick.

He escaped soon enough. They were so understanding. He was the great General, and a busy man. Their understanding made him sick as well.

"T-thank you, General, sir." the mother had sniffled. "Timmy would have been so honored to have you at his funeral, yes he would. You're such a busy man, and you came. Thank you so much, sir. Little Timmy admired you so." The Father had nodded his agreement to his wife's words, pride mixing with his sorrow.

Sephiroth had just nodded, very stiffly, coldly, before leaving. He had already arranged with the Economy Department to transfer a very generous amount of money to the family every month, but he didn't want to be present when they were told that. He would give them money. It was all he could do. They could move to the Upper Plate. Educate their remaining children. Start a new life.

Without Timmy, because he was dead.

Sephiroth felt sick. And sad. So sad.

But Genesis lived, and that made life worth living.