Sephiroth woke to a cutting pain in his cheek. Bleary and disoriented, he sat up, feeling the hard line impressed into his flesh like a scar. The silver rectangle of the tablet glinted beside his head, one edge dewy with the imprint of his face. Groggy, his brain pounding a brutal tattoo on the inside of his skull, Sephiroth turned over and shifted over to the edge of the bed. Scowling in disgust, he rubbed his face and made a vain attempt to smooth the creases from his rumpled clothes, the same ones he had been wearing the night before. He looked around. The velvet drapes were drawn tight against the strong midmorning light, a low fire crackled softly in the white marble fireplace. He put his feet on the floor, hunted for his boots. They stood next beside the nightstand, clean and freshly polished; the servants had already gotten to them.

Sephiroth picked up the tablet, wiped the screen with the cuff of his shirt and turned it on. There was a carafe of water on his nightstand, pale green with vitamins. He poured himself a glass and sipped it slowly while he waited for the tablet to boot up, start to scan. Every movement made him feel dizzy and vaguely sick, his stomach sour, roiling with the fumes of too much half digested alcohol.

Vague memories of the previous night drifted across his bleary mind: Chase staring angrily at a smouldering cigarette butt, the pungent perfume of straw and leather, towering white birds with garnet eyes. That's right. Alex Stahlrask, with the S.E.D. He typed, took another cautious sip of water.

The network this far north was crude, fragile at best if it worked at all, but he was happy to have it. It had been only a pipe dream, a rumor, when he had been employed at ShinRa. Most people had said it was impossible to ever connect the Northern continent with the rest of the world; the ocean floor was too deep and uneven to lay the cables, but yet, here it was.

Sephiroth rubbed his temples as the tablet searched for its connection, dropping three times before making a complete cycle. The results compiled in fit and jerks, the screen filling with blocks of dim grey type. The results were disappointing but not surprising; Alex's name returned nothing useful. He tried again, searching the acronym, pairing it with companies that specialized in geotech and fossil energy. Sephiroth drummed his fingers impatiently against the back of the tablet as he waited. His stomach turned and threatened to revolt; he breathed quickly through his teeth until it settled.

At last the letters began to run across the screen and the one name he had dreaded most was emblazoned across the top of the list in all Caps: ShinRa Exploration Division. He explored further. Their page had a stock image of a woman holding a young child on her lap, both smiling up into some glowy grayscale sunbeam, superimposed next to a man in rugged climbing gear, his eyes trained on an imaginary horizon. Their mission statement was splashed across the top of the page in a bold font: 'The S.E.D. is committed to bringing you and your family new sources of safe and sustainable energy for a better life-and a better world.'

The network stuttered, dropped, and would not be revived. Sephiroth put the tablet down next to him on the bed and squinted towards the windows, where the sun was slipping around the edges of the drawn curtains like a knifeblade. ShinRas' roots ran deep, and, like any aggressive plant, were tough to kill. Another wave of nausea swept through him and he closed his eyes, pain pulsing through his head. ShinRa had already denied him so much. He would not abandon his plans with Chase, now that the opportunity had presented itself.

Sephiroth considered his options. Unless ShinRa had radically changed its operating procedures, Alex would be in regular communication with his superiors and would be required to file regular reports on his activities. He would be missed within a day or two, should he suddenly disappear. It might spur an investigation. Simple avoidance would be easy enough, and safer. Chase could be counted upon to keep him apprised of Alexs' schedule, and would likely be more than happy to act on his behalf to keep him at a distance. It would only be for a month, two at most. If he was careful, just as he always was, their paths would never have to cross again.

The possibilities of the days before him opened like a scroll. He would run Kitrinka far out in the tundra, deep in the forest, at odd hours, early in the morning, late at night. The few townsfolk that might see him would recognize Chases' bird, think he was just another contractor in for training. He would otherwise lie low. The risk would be mitigated and he would try, in whatever form he could manage, to have solace.

Sephiroth got to his feet and stretched, the vertebrae in his back cracking loudly, one by one. The clock on the bedside table told him that it was nearing midmorning. Aerith would most certainly be awake by now. Perhaps she had already had her breakfast, or perhaps she was waiting for him. He discarded the last thought. She wouldn't stand on ceremony, especially not now.

A brief call to the servants confirmed it. He ordered a tray for himself as well as rations for the field. He sat on the sofa near the window of his suite and tried to distract himself with the mornings' paper while he waited for them to arrive. A scant ten minutes later there was a sharp double knock at the door and a manservant entered. Absorbed in his findings, Sephiroth waved him in.

"Here you are, sir." A silver tray was placed on the table before him

"Thank you," Sephiroth said, without looking up.

"You're welcome, sir. The rations you requested are packed, here. Will you require anything further?"

"No. I will be going out shortly. I'm not certain when I will return. Be sure my companion gets anything she needs. "

"Certainly, sir, as always. "

Sephiroth heard the door close behind him. He set the paper aside and lifted the cover off of the food they had brought. A single pink rose bloomed in a vase on the edge of the tray. A sliver of light that had escaped between the drapes was falling across it, making the petals glow as if they were on fire. He reached out and stroked it, letting the petals riffle through his fingers. The bright citrusy scent of it, mingled together with his food, took him immediately back to the past. Sephiroth picked up his fork and began to eat, but his mind was a million miles away.

"It's okay to be nervous," she had said.

"I'm not," he had said back, testily. He stopped drumming his fingers on the gleaming marble of the vanity and looked around. This place, the executive suite at the Midgar Palms D'Or, had been so different than what he had been used to at that time; an entirely different world full of exotic textures and brilliant color. The bed had been the softest he had ever slept in; the sheets were smooth and didn't smell of bleach or iodine scrub or anything else but clean cotton and a subtle delicious perfume.

Just like this, breakfast had been brought in to him on a silver tray; there had been lavish greenery next to his food and a flower with the same rich pink petals and sweet fragrance had been placed in a little vessel of water next to his juice glass. He had asked Jani what it was there for, if he should eat it as well. She had said the flowers were there only to be beautiful. He remembered looking at them again, puzzled but secretly intrigued by the concept.

He stole a glance at Jani's watch. It was almost time now. Jani brushed his hair, smoothing it with the plastic-bristled brush the hotel had provided. Sephiroth winced and pulled away from her as the brush found a sore spot on his scalp.

"Sorry," she said kindly, looking up at the image of him and her reflected together in the mirror, "You bounce back so fast, I keep forgetting you're only two weeks out yet. That last round of injections were pretty tough ones, hey?" She was trying to sound light and breezy, as if it were all no big deal. But he knew, could feel the undercurrent of despair and anxiety radiating from her like heat.

Sephiroth said nothing, only scowled at his reflection. He looked at himself move in the glass, stretching out his arms and bracing against the vanity counter, perfectly mirrored. He was tall enough now that Jani didn't have to bend down to attend to him, and his hair had darkened from white to silver, but still his seven year old body was weak and small. He thought of the generals that sometimes came to see him, the breadth of their powerful shoulders in dark green or black jackets, how they towered over him, smelling of gun oil and cordite, unshakeable, afraid of nothing. Even Hojo gave them deference. He would be like that someday. But not today.

Jani rubbed something into his hair that made it shine and held out a shirt for him to take.

"I need to get ready. Do you need help with your cufflinks?"

"I can do it."

"Ok. Your jacket's hanging over here. I'll only be a minute." She left the room, and Sephiroth heard the door to the opposite suite open and close.

Sephiroth pulled on his jacket. It was almost an exact copy of the one Hojo was wearing tonight, severe and dark, with a high collar. The color made him look even paler than usual. He tugged at it, trying not to fidget. In a few minutes he would be standing in front of the other scientists of the world. All of them were the best in their fields, Hojo had said. It was important that he did not disappoint them.

His stomach rumbled painfully. It had been many hours since breakfast, and Hojo had not authorized them to leave the room, and would not allow them to use the phone to call out. Just another senseless, arbitrary rule that both of them knew would have devastating consequences to break. Sephiroth pulled irritably at his cuffs, smoothed his hair and stalked out of the bathroom.

Jani was sitting on her bed, lowering her heel into a pointed shoe. She looked up as he entered and gave him a small tight smile.

"Almost ready," she said.

Sephiroth clambered up and sat on the bed beside her. It was strange to see her dressed in something other than green scrubs and a white lab coat, just a simple knee length skirt and amber colored sweater. There was a thin gold chain around her neck and small gold rings in her ears, the only jewelry he had ever seen her wear. Even her scent seemed slightly different.

It occurred to him that this was how she was supposed to look, how she would look every day, if she could be free of him. Sephiroth looked down at the floor and dug at the plush carpet with his feet.

"What am I to do, again?" he asked. His head was starting to throb. He slumped against her shyly, sighed. She put her arm around him and squeezed him close.

"Just wait for Hojo to motion for you, then go onto the stage. You don't have to say anything, just stand quietly. He'll say a few words, then you can return backstage where I'll be waiting. We'll have something to eat as soon as we're done."

Jani gave him another squeeze, patted him affectionately, then got up and started to gather a few things together.

"Jani, what is all of this for? Why do they want to see me?"

"Well," she said, hesitating. "You're very special."

Ah, yes, 'special'. That was his qualifier, the word everyone had always used for him, and he hated it now as much as he had then. It implied that his existence might have actually been for something other than just a means to someone elses' end. But as so-called special as he was, he had never been able to free himself, or Jani, or to ever really make her sadness go away.

Sephiroth dropped his fork onto his plate, suddenly uninterested in the rest of his meal. He crumpled the rose in his fingers until its blushing petals littered the surface of the tray. He had never even seen the scientists; the glare from the stage lights had turned their faces into one blank smear of white fog. He had only heard the unearthly roar as they got to their feet, applauding Hojo and his 'accomplishment'.

Agitated, he stood up, wiped his mouth reflexively and tossed the napkin on top of his half eaten plate. He glanced at the clock. He had no more time for this. Chase would be expecting him in just over an hour. It was unforgivable to be late, especially on the first meeting.

His parka had been draped on the back of his chair. It was pure white and brand new, crinkling stiffly as he pulled it on, a far cry from the tattered Wutai army cast-off that had served him for so many years. He slung Masamune across his back, found his gloves, settled snowgoggles on top of his head. There was only one last thing he had left to do.

Writing paper was in the nightstand drawer. He took out a sheet and wrote Aeriths' name at the top. The tip of the pen hovered over the blank paper. He touched the nib down then quickly picked it up again, the ink bleeding a small black dot onto the corner of the page. He repeated the motion. The dot bled larger. Why was it so difficult, now, to find the right words to say to her? After several aborted attempts, each tossed into the fire, he settled on barest simplicity: 'I must apologize. My conduct towards you last night was inappropriate. I am sorry and you can be assured it will never happen again.' Unsatisfied but out of time, he tucked the note into an envelope, wrote her name on the front, and sealed it.

One hand on the polished doorknob of his room, Sephiroth paused and took a breath to steady himself. If he met her on his way out there would be no need to belabor the point. He would simply make his apologies and move on. No reason to make it any more uncomfortable between them than it already was. Who knew, she might have already forgiven him. She might not. She might never. This was uncharted territory, for both of them. Sephiroth opened the door, tension gnawing at his gut.

The faint sound of running water and cheerful voices floated down the hallway towards him. Instantly, he relaxed. Aerith was bathing, and having a lively conversation with Celeste, from the sounds of it. As he passed the archway he noticed the servants gathering her empty breakfast dishes from the table before the fire. She was eating well, at least, back on the road to strength and recovery. Heartened by this, and by the prospect of the day ahead of him, Sephiroth placed the note on her nightstand and left with a renewed sense of possibility.

He arrived at the stables a minute ahead of schedule. Chase was pleased to see him, clapping him warmly on the back and leading him to the open arena that was on the other side of the stable complex. Kitrinka was harnessed and tethered to a pole in the center, and, guessing from her fluffed up feathers and the numerous deep clawmarks riven in the snow, was in an especially irritable temper.

"Hope you'll do better than we did," Chase said as they approached her, "We've had a hell of a morning. She bit our lead groom and you wouldn't believe the finagling we had to go through just to get her tack on."

"We'll see," Sephiroth said. From halfway across the arena he could feel the strength of her willfulness press against his mind, already angry and fighting him. He raised one hand to her in greeting as he approached, being sure to keep well back when he stopped. She was in an open area now, and could easily and without warning use her claws as well as her beak; they had a devastating reach. For a moment he just stood before her, his hands up, open to her in offering. He waited, took one step forward, waited. It was a long time and many repetitions before at last her eyes went far away and she would finally accept his command.

"You're just a natural" Chase said, shaking his head as Sephiroth swung himself up into the saddle. Sephiroth nodded, accepting the compliment graciously, although he knew that there was nothing about him that was natural.

Chase had him take Kitrinka through the standard range of paces, then set up a course for him to demonstrate his skill with a few easy turns and jumps until he was satisfied.

"Alright, you're all set now," Chase said, leading them over to the massive doors on the opposite side of the arena. Kitrinka began to dance on her feet as they approached them, warking noisily. Sephiroth had to reign her in tightly to keep her from rushing forward and running Chase over.

"Easy now girl, just a minute," Chase said. "heh, it's nice to see her so eager. It's been a while that she's been eager for anything accept attacking us." He threw the bolts back then pushed a button on the wall. One half of the doors began to slowly sweep outward. "No need for a passkey when you want to come back," he shouted up to Sephiroth, "The bird's collar is chipped to the reader on the door and it'll open automatically for you. Just bring her back to her pen and let one of the grooms know and they'll take care of her when you're done for the day."

Sephiroth nodded his assent. If he could admit it to himself, he was just as excited as Kitrinka to be on their way.

"Alright," Chase said,"have fun, you two, and don't overdo it on your first day!" He plucked the knit cap off his head and waved it at them, grinning.

One mighty leap and they were off. Kitrinka tore up the ground. The silver spangles on her tack jangled wildly, her breath bursting from her mouth in voluminous clouds of steam. He did not have to incite her to run, she did it all by herself, as far as he could tell, just for the pure joy of it.

It was easy to forget himself. There was no mission to accomplish, no outer directive other than what he chose for himself. While she ran there was no future and no past, just the endless present eternally unfolding.

They were several hours outside the borders of the town, up in the eastern foothills, when Kitrinka began at last to tire. Heeding Chases' warning, Sephiroth eased the bird to a slow canter, steering her towards the crest of a gentle hill spotted with Ponderosa pines. He let her circle them a few times in large lazy loops, cooling down. From where he was he could see the town almost in its entirety, grey and spidery, the steeply angled light making the shadows of the buildings a million shades of blue and purple. Rising above it all, piercing the fine haze of woodsmoke stretched the towers of the Inn. If he squinted he could just make out the starburst glitter of the sun reflecting off the glass in the conservatory roof.

Aerith was up there, right now. He wondered what she was doing, what she was thinking about. If she could see him at all he would only be a tiny bluish dot weaving in and out of the snow covered trees. Sephiroth looked away, suppressing an urge to wave, to be seen by her.

He brought Kitrinka around the trees one more time, and pulled her to a stop. His head swam perilously. It had been a long day. He needed to eat, and rest a while. Kitrinka stamped and tossed her head, chewing loudly at her adamantite bit, impatient to be moving on. She was as overconfident in her own strength as Chase had warned him she was; she would run herself to complete exhaustion if he let her.

Sliding down from the saddle, Sephiroth pulled the bird over to one of the pines and cinched her leads around its massy trunk. Kitrinka tugged at them irritably, but consented to stand still enough for him to retrieve his rations from her flankpacks. He set a generous cube of greens before her, which she tore into with purring delight, gnawing at the edges and rolling it around in the snow with her claws.

The high branches of the pines were thick enough so that there was little snowcover under them, only a thick carpet of needles. Sephiroth found a suitable spot and opened his rations. A far cry from hardtack and dried meat or the dehydrated badness typical of Soldier kit, they were proper meals in actuality, prepared to the same standard of excellence he had come to expect from the Inn. With each container he opened he was surprised at the delicious and novel creations the chefs had made for him, even while keeping inside of the strict nutritional guidelines he had stipulated.

As he ate he looked out over the valley, watching the movements of the clouds, the light shifting over the far away mountains. Kitrinka had started a new game with her cube of greens, picking it up with her beak, tossing it up in the air, then pouncing on it as soon as it hit the ground.

"You're not even really hungry, are you?," he said.

She only hissed at him possessively, clutching the greens so hard in her talons that they crumbled.

Refreshed after his meal, he rose, and, leaving Kitrinka to play, paced out to an open area. Squinting his eyes into the setting sun, he unsheathed Masamune. With the sword in hand he bowed towards it, feeling the tendons in the back of his legs stretch. Breathing deeply, he began his sword kata, his muscles tight and inflexible. It had been a long time since he had had a regular practice and he could feel just how rusty he was. His fighting style had gotten crude and inelegant and he sought to refine it. As he trained, visions of the burning Nordkaat camp flashed through his mind, the men he had cut down, the terror in the old mens' eyes. It was all gross butchery; he knew he could have done better. He would work to be better now.

Sephiroth slid down to his knees in the deep pine needles, his muscles shaking. He had to stop. It was fully dark now and the stars were just beginning to come out. Kitrinka had long ago eaten her greens and was resting peaceably; he could hear her tack jangle musically as she idly shifted her weight from one foot to the other, looking around. He stared out at the sky, at the lights glittering in the town far below, eating the ladyfingers and nuts they had packed in the last tin of his rations and sipping the lukewarm remnants of the mulled wine from his thermos. His body felt relaxed, tired, but in a good way. Already he felt quicker, stronger. He listened to the wind shushing through the high branches of the pines. Unbidden and unnoticed, a soft smile came to his lips. At last he got to his feet. Kitrinka hissed and stepped away from him, pulling hard against her tether, still distrusting him.

"Ready to go back?"

A vicious snarl was all he received for an answer.

They ran back together in the dark. The nightvision function of his goggles made it easy to thread their way through the trees and over the rough terrain. Kitrinka, just as others of her kind, could see just as well in the dark as she could during the day. Starlight silvered the world and while they ran he was weightless and pure, sailing over the snowdrifts, just him and his bird.