I hardly make it to the bathroom in time the next day, my knees slamming onto the tile hard enough to break my kneecaps and my hands clutching a toilet bowl that's likely never been cleaned as I empty my stomach. When I can finally catch a breath, I swipe the cold sweat off my forehead, rinse my mouth out at the sink, and head to the kitchen for water. I shudder when I feel that heavy presence return to my head.

Again?

Yeah?

This isn't normal.

I'm sick.

Are you?

I refuse to let my mind wander, walking over to the window in the living room and opening it wide before lighting up a cigarette to calm myself. Puking first thing in the morning should be considered fucking trauma. The sun rises slowly, light picking up Midgar's omnipresent haze of pollution. In the distance, the edge of Sephiroth's Meteor looms overhead.

I hear something shift behind me, but I don't look. Two warm arms wrap around my body, startling me, but I don't have the energy to react. Reno presses a kiss to my neck and I lay my head back on his shoulder, not quite caring when he plucks the smoke from my fingers to have a taste for himself.

"Still sick?"

"Yeah."

"Hm." He hands the cigarette back, staring out at the skyline. "Don't feel warm or anything."

"I dunno." I sigh, closing my eyes. Wish we could stay here forever. "I'm starving, but I can't keep anything down."

For a moment, all he can muster is a hum. Then he squeezes me a little tighter and kisses my cheek, taking a long, slow breath. "You know what you need?"

"What?"

"A vacation. Wutai's nice."

"So I've heard."

"I wanna go." Reno cocks his head to the side, his thumb running back and forth across my hands where they rest on his arms. "Elena got back last night. Think she'll come?"

"She wouldn't miss a chance to get on my nerves." I open my eyes, turning my head upward to look at him. "Rude invited too?"

"Course he is. Can't live without 'im."

"Right." I put my head back on his shoulder. "How do we convince Rufus to let his entire group of Turks leave?"

"Easy. We don't have jack shit to do and Shinra's gettin' nowhere with Avalanche."

"Maybe don't mention that last part."

"Maybe not. Or maybe I send you in so you can work your magic, give him a boner, and then grant my wish."

"What, like his dick's a genie in a bottle?"

"Yeah, exactly." He laughs, shaking his head. "Might have to rub it a little, but you're cool with that, right?"

"Ew, Reno."

"What?" He goes quiet for a moment before he laughs again. "Is it big?"

"What?"

"His dick."

"I dunno. It's not not big."

"Well, good for him."

"Yeah…" I sit up, taking one last drag before crushing the end of the smoke on the windowsill. "I'm gonna get back in bed."

"I'll start makin' calls."

"Good luck."

"Don't need it."

I fall into Reno's bed and hug his pillow to my body, wincing when my back begins to ache. Weird. It feels like I have a fever, but I'm not warm. I squeeze my eyes shut. Maybe I'm just dealing with the backend of the sickness. Outside the bedroom, I hear Reno's voice echoing around the bathroom as he talks on the phone. A long series of calls later, he enters the room and crawls onto the mattress, looming over me with a grin.

"Ready to get your shit together?"

"I guess." I push him away and stand, stretching. Reno holds up my phone and I stick out a hand, waiting to catch it. It slams against my chest and I double over, the pain rippling down my spine. "Holy shit! That hurt way more than it should've."

"What, getting hit in the tit?"

"Yes!" I pout, rubbing my chest. "Gods, they're sore."

"TMI," Reno retorts, rolling to his feet and waving me out of his room. "Go pack your bags. Rufie gave us two days."

"Rufie?"

"Yeah. Go."

"Is this what it feels like to get kicked in the balls?" I wince, still hurting.

"Not even close. Get outta my house."

"I'm going."

Not long after, we're stepping off our ride and marveling at the shapes and colors of Wutai as if we're infants. The air is cool when I take a deep breath, refreshing. A crystal-clear stream runs clean through the center of town, winding into the dusty, barren canyons outside the city. It's strange finally seeing this place. This is where Taavi and Tseng spent a good portion of their childhoods. I've never been, though. So far, the farthest I've been outside Midgar was my very brief time in Costa del Sol with the others.

The hotel is plain, not that expected anything crazy. Elena called in for us and we all paid Reno back after she used his account. It all came together very quickly. She booked herself and Rude separate rooms, and based on rumors alone, packed me and Reno into a room together. She's lucky we're on good terms. Otherwise, I'd kick her ass. With a sigh, I toss my bag onto one of the beds and pull the curtains open to get a good view of the rocky shoreline under the sinking sun.

"Gods, you were right. Maybe I'll come back from this a new woman."

"You think?" Reno gestures for Elena and Rude to follow him into the room, shedding his jacket. I raise an eyebrow, suppressing a smile.

"Please tell me you brought one of those ugly tourist flower shirts."

"You think I own one of those?"

"Uh, yeah."

"He does," Rude says, keeping a perfectly straight face when his partner shoves him.

"Yeah, I do, but I don't wear it."

"Well then what's the point?" I scoff, shaking my head. "Disappointed."

Mocking me under his breath, Reno crosses his arms and turns back to Elena and Rude with an eyebrow raised. "Ready to hit the bar?"

"Think I'd turn it down?" Rude retorts. I laugh, loosening my tie and following them out.

Despite our shared need for a long, fun night, it's not too long before we're heading back, ready to hit the hay. Reno passes out the second he hits the sheets, but I head outside onto the narrow balcony for a smoke. Across a short gap, Elena leans over a similar rail, taking in the scent of the rushing water and the smoke from the fires on the ground. She offers a smile and a short wave.

"Hey." I close the door behind me and light up a cigarette. The buzz in my veins steadily decreases. "What're you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same," she replies. Then, with a defeated sigh, she runs a hand through her hair, staring out at the glowing red lights of Wutai. Meteor casts an eerie violet glow across the night sky. "I… just feel like this is a waste of time. I figured Tseng would tell us to go if he was here, but it's like…" She shakes her head with a soft smile, peeking up at me around her long bangs. "My sister, Gun. She was a Turk. Bet she never would've even considered this."

"Yeah, well…" I shrug, taking a long drag and letting the smoke billow out, poisoning the air like I poison everything I touch. "Elena, I get family rivalries. I swear I do. But… You're not Gun." I flippantly gesture toward her with my cigarette. "I mean, I'm not going to pretend I know either of you, but if you're stuck in her shadow, maybe you're following her too closely."

"I can't help that." She hangs her head, forearms crossed over the railing. "Maybe I shouldn't have taken the job."

"That's not what I meant." I can't help but laugh. Somehow, despite our differences, we've wound up at the same conclusion. What if I hadn't taken it? Would Elena have come up sooner? Would she have dropped the plate?

"Still."

"Elena." I straighten, forcing myself to crush the rest of the smoke under my shoe. She turns her eyes over to me and I smile. Those innocent, childish honey-colored eyes. When I first met her, I couldn't imagine her as anything more than a nuisance. Look at us now. "I meant that you should make a name for yourself. You don't have to be Gun or beat any of her accomplishments. Just do your best."

"… Okay." She straightens, stretching her arms over her head. "Thank you."

"Heading to bed?"

"I'll try." Smiling, she opens her balcony door. "If Rude ever turns off his reading light."

"Just put the blanket over your head."

"I'll try."

When she's gone, I slump back down against the railing, irritated by the ache in my back. I'm so tired, but I'm too afraid to sleep. I don't know what I'll see. I shake my head, pushing my hair out of my face and scratching at my head. Part of me wishes Reno knew everything and the other part knows it's better that he doesn't. How can you look at someone who's done such awful things and ever see them the same way? How can he look at me period knowing what I did to his only family? I don't even know what I did, but I'm still crushed beneath the weight of my own disgust. I can't imagine what it's like for anyone else.

When my eyes get too heavy to stay open, I head back inside and change out of my uniform. Across the room, Reno's sprawled out across his bed, mouth open and hands clutching his pillow. He didn't even manage to get under the covers. I smile and shake my head, tugging on a pair of sweatpants and kicking my uniform into the corner. He even left room for you. I roll my eyes and crawl into my own bed. Something tells me he'll get a better night's sleep if I'm not there sweating and thrashing around. With a yawn, I pull the blankets up over my head and let sleep swallow me whole.

The scaffolding above my head creaks and groans its protests to the spring wind. I step over a collection of rusted tools and metal scraps and sit down in the shadows of the abandoned building. Shinra gave up funding for this project years ago, not even offering enough money for the workers to take all this junk away. That's okay, though. It looks like the rest of the slums. Sighing, I hug my knees to my chest and lean back against a pair of steel rods. This is where I come for fresh air, to think when Tseng sends me out to make friends. Sometimes, she talks to me. Others, it's total silence. It's okay either way, just as long as I'm not bothered by my family and their omnipresent noise.

Down the path, a group of children talks, running through the rocks and rubble to stop before the incomplete structure. I close my eyes, letting the breeze carry my comfort. There's always someone here. One man may stop and stare solemnly up at the ruins or a group of kids will run around the perimeter to check it out, but they never stay. They respect the sacred border of the monument to Shinra's failure.

This group is different, though. They don't fear consequences. They're older and stupider, determined to defy the obedience of their youth. Their feet crush clumps of dirt as they wander nearer. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, praying for them to leave. No such luck. There are three of them, a couple of years older than me. They duck under steel bars and climb over piles of brick, talking about the orphans in Sector Five, laughing at their misfortune. I press my self further into the corner, but my shoe slips against the dirt, and the skidding sound stops the trio abruptly. Go away.

"The hell was that?" a boy hisses.

"Bet there's a rat in here."

They come closer and I panic, trying to scramble away under a collection of twisted pipes. Someone grabs the hood of my jacket, jerking me backward and dragging me into the open. "Found her!"

"Get off me!" I cry, trying to twist my way out of their hands.

"Aw, she's so little!" a girl coos, shoving my down onto my back. I prop myself on my elbows, trying to scoot away. The boy behind me grabs my shoulders and forces me down as the girl digs her greedy hands into my pockets. She whistles, pulling out a handful of cash. "We got ourselves a top-plater, boys!"

"Give that back!" I swipe at her hands, but she holds the money over my head, flashing her gapped teeth in a menacing smile.

"What was it for, baby? Can't be food; gotta have a lot of that comin' from Mommy and Daddy's money."

I sniffle, letting my eyes fall away from hers. "The offering plate." It's where I always put my monthly allowance, praying for a new family—or, at least, that mine would be fixed. I never ask for her to leave my head, though. She belongs here with me. It's my family that's bad. It's Tseng that suffers.

The girl snorts, shoving the cash into her jacket pocket. "Course it is. Only rich people can afford religion." She stands and kicks at my leg. "Take her stuff and toss 'er. Little bitch needs to learn her privilege."

The boys empty my pockets and pluck the plastic beads out of my ears in hopes of selling my things to anyone who might want them. The girl takes my shoes, spitting in my face when I kick at her. When they're done, the taller boy lifts me by my arms and shoves me down the ridge of dirt and onto the road. I skin my hands and knees, left barefoot, jacketless, and fifty gil lighter. My blood boils and I stare hard at the ground, listening for her voice.

Slum scum. They always want what they can't have.

Why do they get to take my stuff? It's not fair.

Life isn't fair.

But—

But that doesn't mean they can get away with needless violence.

I stand, wiping the blood from my lip and taking a deep breath as she directs me. I watch them walk down the path, swinging their spoils aimlessly, laughing. Kicking aside a stack of rusted rods, I hoist one of the path's jagged stones into my hands. My legs are stronger than ever carrying me down the path faster than they can run when they see me coming. With a gritted scream, I swing, refusing to stop until none of them move anymore. I stumble to my feet, collecting my things back with sticky, trembling hands. Their faces are gone, nothing more than bloody, fleshy puddles. I leave them there as a testament to her power and pull the clip from the girl's hair as a trophy.

Good girl.

Let's go home.

I ignore the stares of the people on the street as I pass, blissfully unaware that I'm stained with crimson splatters from head to toe. No one stops me at the church when I drop a fistful of crinkled, damp bills into the golden plate. Everyone watches as I head up to the top and smile up at the sloped, collapsing front porch of my house. Tseng looks up upon seeing me approach; his face goes pale.

"Anna?" He stands abruptly, glancing at the people walking past on the sidewalk. Quickly, he pulls me up the steps and into the shadows of the porch, looking me up and down, horrified. "What happened?"

"Some kids roughed me up in the slums."

"The slums? What were you doing there?" He frowns, motioning for me to shed my stained jacket.

"It's quiet there," I shrug.

"Why are you bloody?"

I shrug again. It doesn't feel wrong, so I tell him the whole story. I tell him about the peace and about the kids that stole my things. I tell him about the voice ("Y'know, the one Dad told you about?") and about what they looked like when I was done beating them to a pulp with a single stone. Tseng stares at me as if I'm speaking another language altogether. When I'm done, he looks dizzy.

"Is something wrong, Tseng?"

He shakes his head, blinking out of his thoughts. Quickly, he opens the door and ushers me inside. His hands are shaking when he reaches for the light switch. "No. Go get changed. Don't let anyone see you."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Go."

Frowning, I slip past him and obey, rinsing off in the shower and tossing my clothes into the laundry basket as if they're only covered in mud. When I start back toward my room to find something new to wear, I hear Tseng speaking to my mother in a hushed voice. I tiptoe to the railing on the upper floor, peeking over the edge to look into the living room. My uncle holds the bloody jacket out and my mother refuses to look at it, arms crossed and a chilling scowl on her face.

"She killed them, Taavi!"

"No, she didn't. She's looking for attention again, Tseng."

"What's with all this blood, then?" He shoves the jacket into her chest, forcing her to look at it.

Crinkling her nose, she steps back."Didn't she say those kids roughed her up?"

"All this blood came from some scrapes?"

"Maybe."

"Taavi, look at it. You know she isn't making this up."

"Stop," she huffs, shoving the jacket back at him. "She's ten years old, Tseng. How do you think she killed all those older kids with a rock? Think."

"I am thinking." Tseng takes a deep breath, his short hair shaking into his eyes when he hangs his head. "Taavi, what about Jon? The voices?"

"I thought he took care of that."

"Clearly not. Anna said she still hears them, that they tell her things."

"Shit." My mother steps back, pushing a hand through her black hair and glaring at the wall. "I knew she shouldn't have discontinued her appointments with Professor Hojo."

"What was she doing with Hojo?!" he demands, pissed off.

She shakes her head, defensive. "He said he would try to reverse Jon's mistake, Tseng! Keep your goddamn voice down!"

"Why the hell would you willingly—"

"I'm sick of this shit." My mother places her hand on her hip, pointing a finger at him. "Don't act like you know anything. You're hardly an adult, you're not married, and you don't have kids. You don't understand what it's like."

"I understand that I would never let that man near—"

"I didn't know any better!" she cries, throwing her hands in the air. "He works with my husband for fuck's sake!"

"And that makes him trustworthy?!"

"You know what, Tseng?" Mom waves him away when he holds up the jacket again, hurrying toward the front door. "Since you care so much, you deal with that little freak of nature."

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know."

"Taavi, she's your daughter."

"She's a mistake."

She throws open the door and slams it in Tseng's face. My uncle stops in the doorway, heaving a defeated sigh as he glances back down at my bloodied jacket. Confused at why I can hardly breathe, I head back to my room and sit on the edge of my bed, clutching my towel closer to my body. What's wrong with me?