Hey chums.

I don't own anything, anyone or anywhere you recognise. Sapphire, along with a few others who'll crop up every now and then, are mine.

Well, it's been well over a year. How's y'all? XD

I'm not gonna make excuses. Just gonna wish you a happy new year, and give whatever few dedicated fans (if any) are left a nice little post-Christmas gift :3

It's been a long time since this was written, so who knows what it's like. Let me know!

...Well, line break is misbehaving. That's gonna bug me, so here's another XD

Chapter 38 - Our Last Encounter

"Haven't seen you in a while," was my airy reaction to seeing Michael and Brandon in the corridor standing right outside my door, each with their trademark, fury-inducing smirk on their identical faces.

"I was about to say the same thing," Brandon proclaimed, approaching me with his hands outstretched. Remembering our last encounter, or at least the last one that put me in the infirmary, I unconsciously removed my right hand from my trouser pocket and rubbed the bridge of my nose.

I saw a muscle in Brandon's cheek twitch as he registered my reaction, and I tensed. I eased backwards into a defensive stance, asking, "What do you want now?"

It had been something like… two or three weeks since then, a week since the psyche evaluations. We'd all been waiting on tenterhooks to receive our results, and yet not wanting to hear at the same time: we'd all seen a few vaguely familiar faces depart in their civvies.

Will had been sending us far too many smug looks over the last few days. Zack, Ash and I were getting mildly sick of it - and typically, we were planning a chocolate raid to fight back. In fact, I think that was supposed to be today…

"You're a lucky son-of-a-biscuit, you know that?" the twin stated, questioning rhetorically. Picking up on that, I didn't answer. "Everyone else in this darn building has to prove themselves worthy of the ridiculous standards Shinra sets, but the precious little Crimson Commander's pet is guaranteed an in," he spat, suddenly becoming visibly furious.

It was at this point I noticed that Brandon was out of uniform, wearing black tracksuit trousers and a green, short-sleeved button-up shirt. I couldn't help my goading smirk as I drawled, "So sorry to see you go; my, how disappointing. You'll write to me from the slums, won't you?"

I was so busy realising how Genesis I sounded that I didn't notice his hands curling into fists, but as he flew at me with a frenetic scream, I twisted around his punch and managed to kick his feet out from beneath him. "GRAB HIM!" Brandon screamed the command over his shoulder.

I spun to confront Michael, still in the Cadet uniform - but didn't expect him to be so close, and before I knew it, I was sent skidding backwards beside Brandon when his twin had literally punched me in the face. It connected far too close to the eye for comfort...for lack of a better expression, as getting punched is far from comfortable regardless of location.

Seeing his actions a mile off, I rolled on top of Brandon and grabbed both his wrists, my feet on his ankles to stop him attacking me, while he twisted and struggled beneath me. With no other option: not wanting to injure but having no option with being outnumbered, I head-butted him, and he groaned, falling slack, stunned but not unconscious. Dizzy myself but less so for my helmet, I scrambled to my feet and made to run back the way I came.

Brandon didn't let me get very far - even despite the knock, he was able to grab my left ankle and send me sprawling once again. I flipped onto my back and raised my right leg to stomp on his hand to release me, but before I could Michael was upon me. He grabbed the raised ankle and pulled it straight, then slowly bent it further towards me as he approached, straining to pull it beyond what was possible. I gritted my teeth through the pain, and was fortunate that it didn't last long or that he didn't push any farther to do actual damage.

He continued to hold it there, while his other hand reached down to a familiar position for him to grab. I felt Brandon release my ankle and I saw him roll away out of my peripherals, shortly after Michael released my raised leg, which I let drop to the floor with a relieved 'whoosh' of breath, and Brandon scrambled up to my other side, so they both stood over me. I remained perfectly still, anxious of Michael's grip on my neck, which was firm but not restricting breath, so far.

"What is this supposed to achieve?" I questioned, genuinely confused myself. He was kicked out. Did he think this was my fault, or was there some twisted way he believed I could change that result?

My guesses were more accurate than I was expecting, considering my situation. Michael gave a slight, warning squeeze as Brandon explained, "Teachers' pet. Lazard seemed pretty happy with your input last time, I thought maybe you could try it again?"

Feeling no inclination to be the idiot hero, particularly when I still had a physical exam to go through at some point soon, I tentatively nodded my head and swallowed thickly beneath the slowly tightening grip. The two brothers looked at each other, and did that whole creepy silent twin-speak they were all capable of.

They seemed to come to a conclusion, and by their sudden and immediate action, it clearly wasn't in my favour. I nearly bit my tongue in my choked gasp and splutter as Michael lifted me by my neck. My head jerked backwards, and my vision went black at the corners, as entire constellations' worth of stars burst into view. I was sweating, my face felt like it was on fire.

And a second later, I found my feet, and the unbearable pressure around my neck was alleviated. I coughed and gasped briefly, bending over slightly and clutching at my neck, but Brandon hissed something at me I didn't hear and grabbed my shoulder from behind, pulling me into a standing position.

"Good talk, pal," Brandon announced loudly, giving me one more pat on the back, and he and Michael took their leave in the direction I was facing. Before they turned a corner, Brandon sent me a meaningful glare over his shoulder.

I stared them out until they turned the corner, and dropped my head, breathing heavily and lightly touching my neck in displeasure, cringing at the sensitivity and pain. The last bruises had only just cleared up…

"Co-ueh?"

That was Ash's voice. I turned on my heel to see her peeking her head out of the apartment door, an open bar of chocolate sticking out of her mouth, and I saw her surprised expression turn to one of much greater alarm as she turned on her side and exploded into stars and darkness.

Or possibly I collapsed.

Only briefly though, my vision came back to me only a few seconds later, still dark at the corners but thankfully lacking the white sparks. Ash was crouching at my side, shaking my shoulder, which was just flopping me about uselessly as my entire body was nothing but a useless bag of pins and needles.

I could see another person beside her, down around my midsection, but I couldn't quite make out who it was. Until they crouched: Zack wasn't even looking at me, he was glaring in the direction the twins had left, his teeth gritted, looking ready to explode, or run after them and beat them to a pulp on my behalf.

The pins and needles sparked to life as Zack lifted me, one arm propping up my neck and head and one in the crook of my knees, and carried me 'over the threshold' into the apartment, crouching down and placing me on the sofa. He and Ash then quickly started a conversation, debating their plan of attack and Zack making various comments about how he would make them pay. It was quite sweet, really.

It wasn't long before the feeling started to come back into my limbs, and my right arm inaccurately flip-flopped about, fingers clenching and unclenching. Eventually they wormed their way into my pocket, and bumped the smooth edge of my PHS.

Unsurely, I made several attempts to pull it out, the effort coming from my arm as my fingertips just barely kept contact with the device, and slowly it slid out. "Hey," I croaked, having no trouble unlike the rest of my body, but burst into a flurry of coughs from the abuse my poor throat had suffered. I felt the device removed from beneath my fingers and let my arm fall as Zack laughed, congratulated me, stopped the recording and replayed it, laughing the whole way through. Once it finished, he crouched by my head, gave me a thumbs up and took a picture of me. I recoiled and groaned when the flash dazzled me, and the puppy swiftly apologised.

"You okay to get him sorted, Ash? I'll go find Lazard and tell him what happened." And before waiting for confirmation, or maybe I just didn't see her agree, he flew from the room.

"I guess I'll call the infirmary, shall I?" she rhetorically asked, and without waiting for a response she took out her own PHS.

I tried to tell her to stop, but another coughing fit assaulted me. She crouched by my face, and I croaked out a soft "No."

She looked into my eyes and said nothing, but that didn't mean she wouldn't. With no lack of strain, I managed to push myself to a seated position on the sofa, if slouching somewhat. She left me panting with the effort, and returned shortly after with a glass of water.

With no response on my part, she let out a soft huff of air and raised it to my lips, letting me swallow a few mouthfuls at a very slow pace. She lowered it, and I tried to explain, my throat still rough but my voice legible, "Fitness tests... don't want them delayed."

Ash sighed deliberately loudly. "So you'd prefer to go into them at a disadvantage? With whiplash or concussion or whatever harm they've inflicted on you now?" I knew her question was sarcastic, but I nodded all the same, prompting another of her exaggerated sighs as she got to her feet and stomped away. I clutched at my temples, hoping the throbbing would ease somewhat. When that didn't work, I lay down, and that worked very well: I fell right to sleep.

"Hey. Hey! Good news!"

I groaned as I was roused from my sleep some time later by excited whispers, and rubbed my head as I pulled myself slightly upright, leaning against the arm of the sofa. "What?" I rasped, coughing slightly, but thankfully without pain. I opened my eyes to a grinning Zack leaning over me, handing me back my PHS.

I received it from him, and squinted at the screen, my hand stopping its motions against my head as I digested the contents of the message. "You're not insane!" Zack enthused, bouncing slightly in place. Sure enough, the message marked me as good to go for the physical exam. "Ash and I are in too, isn't it great?"

With squinted eyes, and with some effort, I pulled my mouth up into a smile, responding, "That's great, Zack."

Zack tipped his head to the side. "This leads me to my next question," he announced, and crouched before me, so I was able to look down at him - much better, without the light directly behind his head. I smilingly nodded for him to go ahead, and he did, with much gusto: "ARE YOU INSANE?!"

With some...mild confusion, and no lack of pain returning to my headache, I restarted my circular motion and pressure against my head in an attempt to ease it and held up the PHS after a moment's hesitation. "Apparently not…why?" I replied, with a raised eyebrow. My eyes flickered to Ash over his shoulder, and she held a look of worry, and some guilt. What was that for?

Zack's eyelids drooped, as though it were obvious. "Sapphire?" he emphasised, and grabbed a handful of my hair, holding it in front of my eyes.

I slowly realised that my helmet was missing, and stopped rubbing my head where my helmet should have been.

I shot an accusatory glare at Ash, which was quickly intercepted by Zack jumping upright and obstructing my view of her with his arms outstretched, protecting her from my metaphorical thrown daggers in my glare. "Don't look at her like that, this isn't her fault! What are you even thinking of, you idiot?!" he shouted, and I winced. Even in his riled state, Zack was too kind not to apologise for causing me pain, though it was very offhand and blasé, as he crossed his arms and looked away while doing it.

"I…" I searched for a valid, viable response to that question, and the best reply I could come up with, after all I'd been through to protect a secret that didn't need protecting in the first place, was "I was an idiot."

"Too right you were," he snorted, and put a hand over his eyes, shaking it from side to side. "And still are, by the way. Plus, Ash and Will know, before me? That hurts, dude," he whined, plonking down to sit on the floor. Both Ash and I looked at him in slight disbelief. Me with some relief as well.

I mean, I was so done with all the lectures from everyone that found out…it was about time someone gave me a break. No matter how childish the alternative reaction was. "Eh, sorry about that," I apologised, rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly. "At any rate, I'm glad you didn't actually go prying like them two did," I contemplated, more to myself than anything.

Zack lit up at that statement, and proclaimed, "Thanks!" Ash and I doubled the confusion in our gazes directed at him. "But, um…I think what you're doing is really cool. If you need help with stuff, I'm backing you up, one-hundred percent."

Almost before he finished his sentence, and disregarding what pain I knew it'd cause, I launched towards him and grabbed him in a hug, thanking him and laughing in joy. He cuddled me tightly, doing just the same.

"I don't know why I'm surprised," I heard Ash say to herself in an exasperated tone. I caught her eye and stuck my tongue out at her. She sighed dramatically and turned her back on us, retreating back into the kitchen.

We heard the door open, and Zack and I awkwardly peered around each other to see Will giving the pair of us a bewildered look. There was an odd few moments of silence, with the Turkey-in-training looking around the apartment, before his eyes were caught elsewhere. "Is that my chocolate?!" he screeched in outrage, his voice a higher pitch than I could ever reach. We all received betrayed looks as he pitifully searched through the mountain of empty chocolate bar wrappers on the kitchen counter.

"You were smug," I explained shortly when no one else spoke up, despite that I'd had no part in the operation, and turned my head to snuggle into Zack's neck, laughing at the tickles when he returned the gesture. Will replicated Ash's previous action: sighed and wandered off.

Zack and I clambered off each other and jumped back up onto the sofa. I asked him how the meeting with Lazard went, and he launched into an explanation: how he'd heroically demanded an immediate meeting from outside the door, so that the busy SOLDIER Director had no choice but to listen to the highly important young Cadet, as he proved the repeated bullying and threatening of his wimpy roommate, and demanded action be taken, and only left when Lazard promised the pair would be brought to justice. Red cape fluttering in the wind behind him as he made his exit, then rushed back to tend to his poor, pathetic roommate.

"My gratitude to you has no limit, how could I ever thank you for such a deed?" I asked in a monotone, making it sound more like a statement than a question with the lack of inflection. Zack elbowed me, grinning.

"Basically, I did what you asked, and he said he'd 'sort it out'. I shudder to think what that means…" he shuddered, as though to make his point.

I rolled my eyes. "They're probably just gonna get kicked out, Zack," I burst his bubble. His shoulders drooped.

"Oh."

There was a pause in the conversation, and I pulled at the edge of one of my gloves, wanting to and not wanting to ask the question. I bit the bullet, rushing my inquiry of, "Did you ask Angeal?"

Zack blinked. "What?"

I sighed, and reiterated slower, "Did you ask Angeal about how Genesis is doing?" I ran a hand through my hair, mildly frustrated with the subject.

"Yeah, I did," my porcupine-headed roommate confirmed with a nod, his 'quills' bouncing at the motion. "Angeal just said that he was busy, and that he'll probably shoot you a message when he gets around to it," he delivered the message, staring at the ceiling as he recalled.

That didn't give me much to go on. "So he hasn't returned from his mission?" I asked for clarification. That was a long time to be away, if so…what was it, two weeks? Three weeks?

Unhelpfully, Zack shrugged, saying, "Dunno. That's all Angeal said." Frustrated, I thanked him for his effort, and thanked Ash when she delivered us a cup of tea each.

"Nothing helps like a cup of tea," she proclaimed, smiling. Zack took his cup of tea, and sent Ash a pleading, puppy look. She sighed, returned to the kitchen, and came back with chocolate biscuits, which the two of us happily ripped open and helped ourselves to. She stole a handful for herself and asked me, "Feeling any better? Sapphire?"

That's right…I never told her my actual name. I sent her a sheepish grin and nodded happily.

"Glad to hear it. Hey, did you read that whole message?"

Raising an eyebrow, I didn't know whether to confirm or deny. Her smile seemed slightly evil, and I gulped in sudden worry.

"Because it had the times for the physical assessment beneath your psyche results," she explained, and I swiftly gobbled my biscuits, drank a swig of tea, set it on the floor and grabbed for my PHS again.

Sure enough, there was more than just a congratulations message beneath.

'The physical assessments will begin very shortly after the psyche evaluations have been confirmed, and will take place over the following four days. Several Cadets will be examined at the same time, so you will be randomly grouped together and set a series of tasks to complete, both grouped and individual, and will be assessed as such.

The times and ID numbers of competing candidates are listed below. Arrive at your assigned slot or risk exemption from the entrance examinations.'

After taking a swift glance down at the times for the exams, I loudly proclaimed, "Randomly grouped, my backside!"

My two companions jumped at my announcement. "What?" Zack enquired, looking over my shoulder at the times provided, and the ID numbers clumped together.

"I'm in the first slot again! This is ridiculous!" I complained, growling. "When's yours?" I asked the pair. They exchanged looks.

"I think I'm like…the end of the first day," Zack contemplated aloud, then took my PHS from me to scroll down the list.

"The start of the third day," Ash answered offhand, throwing her leg over the armrest of the chair she'd sat in and examining her nails. I could see the knowing glint in her eye, despite the lack of interest she falsely portrayed in the topic. I smouldered.

"Yeah, I'm tomorrow afternoon," Zack proudly handed the phone back to me. I rolled my eyes.

I repeated my earlier statement, putting deliberate emphasis on each word, "Randomly grouped, my backside. They've just done it in alphabetical order again!" Zack blinked in mild confusion, and I couldn't decide whether it was that he didn't understand, or that he didn't understand why I was so worked up about it. "I'm tomorrow morning. What a surprise. Oh, to be cursed with a surname starting with 'A'…" I whined.

"Yeah, I noticed that," Ash mumbled, and winked at me with a wicked gleam. "And you can't miss, or else you're screwed. Shame, that." I glared at her. I knew she was annoyed at me for refusing to go to the infirmary, but this kind of behaviour was a little uncalled for.

"No worries," I smiled, retrieving my tea from the floor again. "Tea will do me better than the infirmary ever would." That first sip had indeed soothed my throat like nothing ordinary, regardless of how fast I'd gulped it down in my haste to check my time. Ash stuck her tongue out in my direction, but I ignored it as I sipped at my steaming beverage.

"Do you think I should grow a beard?" Zack suddenly asked, sounding more serious than I'd ever heard him.

I spat out my tea. Ash spluttered. And simultaneously, we both turned to the puppy, and answered, "NO!"

Zack pouted. "No need to yell," he whined, rubbing at his chin. I looked at Ash, to find her looking at me, and there was a silent countdown between us. And again our actions were simultaneous: we both burst into peals of laughter.

After mine settled, I patted the blushing sweetheart on the shoulder. "Really and truly, we understand how you feel about Commander Hewley, but there are much better ways for you to show your devotion than becoming his mini-clone," I sympathised. His pretty blue eyes blazed at me.

"I'm not copying him! I just thought it might look cool!" he defended, not too successfully. I shook my head, thoroughly amused, and patted him on the shoulder again, taking another mouthful of tea.

My eyes met Ash's over the rim of the mug, and again my tea was sent spluttering out of my mouth, as we both cracked up for a second time, at poor Zack's expense. He ate his biscuits in silence after that.

"Ah, General! May I speak with you a moment, sir?" the rather harried-looking Second Class called, approaching Sephiroth with an outstretched hand and a clipboard in the other.

He smiled in recognition. "Of course, Luxor. What is it you need?" Sephiroth had gotten to know the Second Class SOLDIER over the time they had shared the Cadets' class, and though the formal air was not dropped, he recognised Cliff as a valuable subordinate. Both for his fighting ability, made obvious by his accomplishments in Wutai, and his common sense in teaching the newest recruits. On the whole, he was basically just a very likeable individual.

Cliff returned the smile, and went on to make his request, "I'm in charge of the Cadets' Physical exams this year, and since you helped me out with covering me in some of the classes, I wanted to ask if you had planned on joining me in the assessments. Only if you're interested, I'm under no pressure."

Sephiroth contemplated for a moment, debating the pros and cons of getting involved with such a task. On one hand, this was likely to land him completing more paperwork than he would like (and he had plenty of his own still to complete, both taunting and repelling him from his office even now).

In reality he would gain very little, if anything from the endeavour. Some mild insight into individuals that he may never even meet, much less any he had an interest in. Perhaps a break from Angeal's friendly pestering to make himself more approachable to the troops; the man was relentless sometimes, especially since he adopted that puppy of his. A few days' worth of work that would be better spent in his office, wasting ink on even less important pieces of paper.

Bah. He could explain what happened in Wutai succinctly with a few short sentences, and yet a few stacks of paper seemed more invasive and inquisitive than a meeting with the mad professor. Well…almost.

Suddenly…this assessment seemed a lot more tempting. If only to put off his own dreadful work for as long as possible.

With a nod, that was really more a slight inclination of the head, the General answered, "Yes, I suppose my input would be beneficial to the assessments." Luxor's smile might not have been so enthusiastic if he'd heard what Sephiroth wanted to add: that he'd be able to narrow down the Cadets by quite some way based on their varied reactions to the amount of injuries sustained.

Not necessarily how it sounded - after all, he hadn't sent the entire class to the infirmary. That would have been rude. No, in fact, it was to test the reactions of those around them. Several individuals had been stunned by the first splash of blood they saw, insomuch that they stalled for multiple seconds. Unless they showed some improvement in these tests, he'd make it so they were stricken from the list.

The General was almost looking forward to this now. Despite that it would be only a short respite before he had to return to his own paperwork. What a shame…

"I know that Commanders Hewley and Rhapsodos have taken a couple of Cadets on as students, but I haven't been able to catch them around. I don't suppose you've seen them, or would you know if they have any interest in offering their own input?" Luxor continued. "It is better to get a lot of different opinions, in the long run."

He nearly snorted at the request. The thought of them two working together to make reports on Cadets…it was laughable. Angeal was too soft, he'd pass them all. Genesis would pretend to not care, and try to sabotage it so all of them were unacceptable. Or he simply wouldn't care. "I think not. Favouritism," Sephiroth offered as an excuse.

"Ah," the SOLDIER intoned, nodding in comprehension, and made two quick horizontal strokes across the page. "Thanks again, that makes four anyway, which is pretty well rounded I think." Luxor paused, with an expectant glance up at Sephiroth.

Another pause, as the General translated the look for what it meant, and eventually he returned a nod to the SOLDIER. "Yes, that sounds acceptable," he replied, and with the barest hint of hesitation, Luxor thanked the First Class for his time and departed, salute not forgotten.

Sephiroth continued his journey, rolling his eyes to the ceiling, his mouth straightening into a tight line. He acknowledged that SOLDIERs preferred to receive feedback from their superior before performing an action, which was how it should be, but there was really no need for him to confirm every meagre decision in such a trivial matter. This was far from his area of expertise, but he'd even be happy enough to do it all on his own, to know it'd be done right. If anything, additional people could cause more havoc.

His swift stride slowed a fraction, as he realised that theory rung a few bells. Was there a phrase, or an anecdote or…some kind of colloquialism along those lines? He recalled Angeal's lessons, the other First Class was an excellent teacher, but these…pointless phrases people endlessly spouted to sound intelligent…they tended to go straight over his head.

Lengthening his stride back to its usual, he continued on his journey to his office. There was an awful lot of paperwork that needed doing, and he had been putting it off long enough.

It was in the elevator that his communicator buzzed, and with a smooth motion he retrieved it from his pocket, accepted the message and began to read.

'Are you close? -Angeal'

Well. That was brief, and vague. And distinctly unlike the Commander, rather like himself though.

Sephiroth disliked sending messages. It was such unnecessary hassle: his vocal chords were made for the purpose of interaction, and did the job well, so why should he delegate their only job to his fingers?

The SOLDIER General would have called the sender, had it been any other person. But Angeal knew he disliked sending messages, and therefore would not subject him to it without good reason. So he tapped out his own reply in kind, hitting 'Send' just as the lift reached the floor his office was situated on and he disembarked.

'Heading to my office. -S'

Sephiroth nodded with respect to First Class Winterhold as they passed one another in the hall, who returned the gesture. Neither stopped or exchanged pleasantries, each with their own destination in mind, with no intention to delay.

Neither ever had much time for each other: the two both held somewhat similar positions of power, both at the head of tactics meetings for particularly dangerous conflicts, and rarely agreed. Winterhold viewed Sephiroth with disdain, as an arrogant General who cared little for morale or correct protocol, believing he pushed them beyond their limits unnecessarily and risking their lives. Meanwhile, Sephiroth saw Winterhold as he was; an old man, long out of the art of war, and unused to the advancements in technology or, more importantly, the SOLDIER treatment. The General knew best what his troops were capable of, and there was no need for one like Winterhold to question his judgement, creating a split vote.

Typically he had very little bother convincing those in power to trust in his judgement, but even still, it was a thorn in his side he could do without. Rather like this one…

Being unable to see Angeal's message as anything but a warning to be cautious (and the lack of reply since convincing him that he was headed straight for whatever he needed to be cautious of) the General did not turn the corner to approach his office. He pressed his back to the wall and peered around the corner, careful to edge out as little as possible to assess the situation while minimising the risk of being spotted.

The corridor was completely ordinary as far as he could see, and due to his enhancements, Sephiroth was unlikely to miss any detail, no matter how insignificant. He could, however, see that his door was ajar, but only just a crack open. The room was lit up - as was standard in the Shinra building, they would automatically dim in the night hours and were very rarely turned off - but he could see no movement from this angle.

The corner on the opposite side of the floor would also give him a view of the door (being General meant a corner office, though the aesthetics of it and any significance behind it were lost on him) but it was a side view while this was straight on, so he'd definitely be unable to see anything in the office from there.

Seeing no other option, and doubting what possible harm could be done when Angeal was informed (the man was more a Saint than a Commander, there could be no doubt) Sephiroth picked up his stride and advanced to his office door, only a few moments after first pausing at the corner.

He slowed to a stop in front of the door, giving a quick glance around the next corner: nothing out-of-place there either. The General very slowly approached the door, placing a hand on the handle.

Sephiroth could see nothing out of place in his office from his viewpoint, but on top of the door was perched…a bucket, it seemed. Given the position, unless it was secured to the wall at the top, it'd tip and fall on the next person to enter the room. Given the location, it was near-guaranteed to be himself. It also meant the perpetrator was almost certainly in the room, either waiting to see the result or simply stuck inside, not wanting the bucket to land on themselves.

The General could not have been sure how long he stood outside his office door, debating in his mind the meaning of it all, and just what would be contained in that bucket that would warrant placing it on top of the door. But he knew he was going to have to enter. And he would have to place his trust in Angeal that anything potentially life-threatening (it would have to pack some punch to be life-threatening to him, of course) was entirely ruled out.

Unsure but seeing no other choice, he strode forward a step, nerves on high-alert, and pushed open the door. His sharp SOLDIER eyes would certainly pick up whatever was falling before it hit him, so he was prepared to jump back if necessary.

Liquid. Viscous. Green. Odourless. Not visibly dangerous. He couldn't grasp the intention, he presumed it would be comical, but that was just guesswork from knowing (but not understanding) Genesis.

He stayed where he was, and let the unpleasant and familiar feeling of a viscous substance surrounding him, coating every square inch of his clothes and body. Following the splat, there was silence for a second, Sephiroth's muscles remaining tense as he sensed the assault was not over.

"ATTACK!" hollered Genesis' voice, and Sephiroth crouched, ready to repel his attack. But all he did was blink, and unexpectedly spring back to full height as he saw…something fly towards him, and tangle itself all over him, almost cobweb-like, but rubbery, and colourful.

The General squinted at the small can in the grasp of a red leather glove, obviously the source of the material. Silly string? What?

"ANGEAL!" the attacking Commander accusingly bellowed to the other side of the room, where Angeal emerged, shrugging and shaking his own can.

"It's ja-" his voice cut off as, with a tremendous squelch, the top flew off the can and covered the other SOLDIER Commander in the same substance.

The walls trembled with the howl of laughter that followed.

Heh. Silly string.

So for those of you who are interested, for what it's worth, I've been a fair bit busy. Final year of university is a special sort of agony that I wouldn't wish on anyone. Tremendous workload coupled with some social difficulty and...yeeeah, tricky. But that's a thing of the past, I graduated, spent a couple months job-hunting and still unemployed - who'd have thought the actual thing everyone talks about would actually happen? XD

That being said, I'm in training - on a 9-5 in the grand city of Glasgow for another little while, sadly unpaid but hopefully it'll get me into a job within the next couple months. Am excited to finally put my degree to work~

And, naturally, when I'm at my most productive is when I'm most inspired to be the most productive I've ever been, and I got the mildest itch to work at this again. I still intend to finish this story, and it's not an insurmountable task, but I make no promises. I'm as far from reliable as is humanly possible, and I have a lot of prior commitments as well in real life. That said...hardly a day goes by when I don't think about Saphie and Gen-Gen.

My thanks go out to my reviewers from over a year ago since the last update: grandshadowseal (as always 3), ren7720, Imagination Live, and hama-chama. Your feedback is always appreciated even if I don't show it that well XP

I've said before that I'll try not to let updates get that far apart again. I'd say it again but I couldn't trust myself, so I couldn't ask you lot to believe it either. I'll just leave you with this chapter with the hope that you enjoyed it, and I'll see what I can get done for next chapter ^-^