The silver-haired teen sat in his room that night, remembering everything that was spoken with the auburn teen. He should've been more comfortable with the room he was reassigned to. It had been years since he was offered a bigger room to better accommodate his needs. This one was wide enough to hold about 15 people in one room, with a telly on the wall, space for books, tableware, couches to align around, even room for his weapons and work he had long left.

His heart stayed in the room he was once given when he was under Vincent's care. That agent had to make an escape sometime after he became the age of majority. For what reason? It was rumoured that only the Student Council and another student knew—that student was lurking very close, and yet far, far out of his parameters.

Upon reaching such age, everything around him began to shift like the hands of time that refused to wait for those who were falling behind. Sephiroth reached out for answers, for some way to attain clarity upon the matters that were passing him without a single glance, but only received blanks. He wasn't informed of any reason for the changes save for his age being a determining factor of independence.

There was a panel discussion on something, and from Rufus Shinra, the middle child and legitimate heir of the ShinRa wealth, that Sephiroth's sanity was in question. They received word from Doctor Hojo that he was not of sound mind to make decisions for himself, thus requiring his approval for all that was to be decided. It was still under debate for the young President claimed that his Secretary was no invalid; there were no signs that the silver teen could not decide by himself or think wisely. The consideration of the elite prodigy to be a fool was a nail in a coffin.

Sephiroth's mind and heart began to hurt.

It was as Rhapsodos would say, 'in the blur of my hour of need, all ground swept under me. And with feeble arms beyond my capabilities, I reached for the surface only to drown further and further, sinking lower as I lose myself in the pinnacle of hopeless dreams.'

He wished for that figurehead to return into his life, instruct him on what was proper for an adult like him to do, how to carry himself with dignity, with confidence, with stability. That ebony haired man in formal gabardine suits, with etiquette and polite manners dressing him everywhere he went inspired Sephiroth to stand as if nothing could bring him down. Where had he gone? He couldn't confide the details to anyone, for no one could carry his heart that had gotten too heavy for him. No one could assist him when he didn't know where to be.

He was going to enlist very soon with Rhapsodos and Hewley. It was imperative that he stayed in optimal health and shape in any case he would be dispatched into a battlefield. Sure, the possibilities were not as high as they could've been, but at least, with his training, he wouldn't have a difficult time reassigning himself into position. The void in his heart ached, it was in such pain as if he had been stabbed repeatedly, as if he was in critical condition.

As if he was experiencing a heart failure and no one could tell for he was the great Sephiroth. By Rhapsodos' goddess, did he hate that title.

If Doctor Hojo thought of him a fool, he should grant him the display of his knowledge. He knew what it meant to hate, and how it could not be used in any context where it could be reversed. Where it was mere disdain, a minor complaint. Sephiroth was smart enough to know that hate is a strong word, it was from the heart, an irreparable damage that cannot simply be forgotten. Could never be set aside.

That title of being the Academy's Saviour… that was worthy of driving Masamune through the Headmaster, to end his pathetic existence. The only reason why he hadn't done so was for it would prove his father's point; he was incapable of controlling himself in crucial moments.

He was a freaking invalid in his eyes, and this act of mass violence would play right in his favour.

In his hands was an old lesson-book that he was given by his caretaker. The man had brought into his life a lot of activities with books alone that piqued Sephiroth's interest. There was so much of the Planet that he had learnt by reading alone, by witnessing these sights when he danced on the battlefield with Masamune, long before he had Rhapsodos and Hewley take his hands and share other places to behold.

Vincent was that father figure he had yearned for all his life. The one who took him away from those mono-themed rooms and gave him a place to be. Those eyes, drenched in scarlet so reminiscent of blood was warm, kinder than the flames that they produced through materia—that he was not too well-versed in. He left that to his older friend for he bested both his friends when it came to the sway of the blade. The agent provided so much for him, it was a wonder to the silver teen that this man was not his true father—that he was merely a very caring man who wished to have a child of his own.

Despite those words, Sephiroth had always found that Vincent did not view him as a child he wanted and trained like a teacher, but a child that was supposed to be his. There was a distant longing in his gaze, something that differed than how everyone else stared at him. Rhapsodos and Hewley glanced at him as if he was theirs, a friend and brother, Strife and Fair as if he was their esteemed upperclassman, and the other students in fear of upsetting him. His instructors had reverence similar to the students, showering him with distaste over the praise that were as fake as their pearly white teeth. Doctor Hojo was the worst, viewing him as a mere thing to progress his scientific journeys.

A subject, a project. It made him feel.. it made him feel like a monster. An abomination that was created just to fulfill a sick old man's fantasies—Scientific pursuit he so pretentiously puts it.

It didn't hold any care, no sensibility, no… love.

And Doctor Hojo was his father, gandering upon him with saliva forming in that long mouth of his, hungrily as if he was just a play toy for his profession, and not a child that needed to be held close and taught right over wrong. Sephiroth would not have known that was not the way he was supposed to be treated had his cherished ones not show anger over it.

Even Hewley was distraught to know how his father treated his son. It was obvious that Rhapsodos wanted to murder the Doctor, revive him to do the same process rinse and repeat, but to have Vincent glowering dangerously, cursing the ones that allowed the man to scoff at him and disable him from thinking for himself was the final blow to his psyche.

It took eight years for him to realize that Doctor Hojo was truly mad. Even then, he had to maintain the peace for it was all he had known. He had to eliminate all threats that came to the ShinRa Academy, his opinion on it not mattering for a second. It was a job, and he had to do it even if it made his heart break into sobs, his body wracking in phantom pain, his mind swirling over and over between what he should've done and what was right to do.

It may have caused a disturbance to his naturally clear mind, where nothing was taken into consideration than a mission done well, but Sephiroth did not regret developing emotions. It was lying dormant in him, forced down in any time it dared to surface, but now.. it felt right. He felt like a human being, despite his different chemical make-up, in spite of his upbringing, he was mortal. A special kind, but belonged to the human race nonetheless.

Happiness was a shy one, it ran as soon as it was sought, cowering behind the stronger walls of peer pressure and indifference, in apathy and unwise individuals. As soon as Sephiroth attained the keys to unlock bliss, it was swiped from him. The ground tore open and a fissure formed, pulling him with arms of the mad scientist and his associates, denying the silver teen of what was promised to him, what he deserved.

To be at peace, to be in tune of his own nature.

Knocks to his dormitory door tore his attention from the book that was suddenly illegible in his hands. Tearing his gaze away, he lifted himself from the tatami ground he sat criss-cross upon and rose to let the individual who knocked inside. Guessing it was Hewley, his fingers pressed at the panel to unlock the door and welcome his friend in.

To his slight pleasure, his friend stood with a grin on his face, so kind and tender as always.

"Angeal." He stepped aside to allow the teen to enter as a greeting, finding himself still incapable of simple gestures such as plastering an A+ smile and acting as if the one was the best thing in his life. For him, to share the space for them was his form of allowing them into his mind, into his heart.

And into his soul.

"Alone in here once again.. I ought to have you move in with me or Genesis." The older of the two commented with a smile that turned wry, perhaps due to the empty setting of his room.

All that dressed his room were walls of weapons, and tatami flooring. Some cushions were tossed half-hazardly where a table and couch set would normally be sitting, with the telly ripped off its hinges that thus created a massive empty spot on the wall. Books were in a small shelf, all of them either previous textbooks or some worksheets that were created during his battlefield days.

It really did look like a good training room, rather than a dwelling. The bed he slept on was one to the corner, laying near the book cabinet to the left corner. Bathroom beside the bed and kitchen to the right with empty shelves, reflective to Sephiroth's nature of hoarding, needing, decorating absolutely nothing.

His eyes caught the shiver that rolled down H—Angeal's spine. Surname usage was a formality that no longer existed between the upperclassmen.

"It's so cold in here too, is the heating on?"

Sephiroth blinked, glancing at the clothes his friend wore outside the Academy uniform. A blue tank-top with baggy black pants that appeared very comfortable to be wearing—not very appropriate choice of get-up in a room that was rather cold. With the V-neck he had on, he couldn't seem to agree that there was something wrong with the thermal system in his lodging. It was lack of belongings that gave that chill, nothing to concentrate the warmth into.

"I did not believe it was necessary to have it on." Frowning a little, he fiddled with the controls on the panel, only to realize he had no actual idea how to mess with the thermostat. In resignation, he glanced at his friend. "May you handle the setting? I have never found a need to utilize it…"

Angeal heaved a sigh, smiling not leaving his face, muttering, "you and Genesis share that one braincell."

"He does not make use of the thermostat either, I presume."

"Doesn't make use of it.. he pretty much is the thermostat." It was in exasperated humour that Angeal responded, smile growing either in incredulity or in amusement. In one way, both of them applied. He was amused at his friends' antics as he was amazed by how foolish it could be.

"He is quite spirited.."

"It won't hurt him if you said he was a bit of a pain." His dark blue met Sephiroth's green, "then again.. calling him that would apply to you too."

"We share the same braincell, as you said." He added with a little smile, astonishing the raven friend of his. It wasn't often that the silver teen would crack a joke, so when he did, it was out of nowhere, shocking his two friends to no end.

The ventilations began to fan warm air within the large room, and the silver teen raised both brows. He should consider having it on, it would do him a little good to have some heat in the place. It gave that lively, homely feeling he had with Vincent. When Angeal was satisfied with his work, he and Sephiroth sat on the cushions that splayed around where the main room met the kitchen.

"I should invite you with the puppy more often." Sephiroth couldn't help but frown at how Angeal seemed rather uncomfortable with the setting. It was easy to walk in a room that was not embellished with delicacies as Genesis' lodging was, and not decorated with plants that he could contract allergies from as Angeal's dormitory had.

That being said… with how it did not possess that lively atmosphere that Vincent gave him when he was transferred, it would unnerve even Sephiroth on a particularly bad day. Those nights were spent surprisingly in Genesis' room as that boy would crinkle into a scowl, pull the silver teen out of the confines of his dwelling and command his childhood friend to join them in the 'friend burrito'. Angeal did not understand why but complied with such a gentle smile and strong arms, it had Sephiroth forget all that had to live with in those moments.

"Invite me to spend more time with Fair..?" He could not understand the necessity of forming more friends than the two he had grown very close to. Sure, there was nothing impertinent about Fair or Strife, he just didn't understand the need.

It wasn't as if Angeal was any better; in fact, neither of the three were social butterflies. Their auburn friend just knew how to hide it better, knew better methods to accentuate features that were expected of him. Ever catch him on a serious day, and he wouldn't be as smooth and flattering as he presented himself to be.

They were pretty much awkward moths.

"It is unnecessary, Angeal. You and Genesis are enough of company for me. Strife and Fair would not be comfortable if I entered their sphere." He avoided the frown he received due to his 'pessimism'. It wasn't a newly found fact that the two underclassmen still had shivers rolling down their spines when Sephiroth's piercing green eyes bore into their pair of blue.

At least Fair had the audacity to laugh it off, Strife quite so froze on the spot. Angeal and Genesis were the only two who never backed down in a staring contest with Sephiroth. At least… Genesis didn't. That kid had too much of a competitive spirit to step away from a challenge, and that, he appreciated so very much. Angeal's stares were more of polite gestures, the one that said to 'meet one's gaze as you interact with them'.

"Yeah, but there's no telling what could happen to any of us. For all you know, Genesis and I could be discharged and killed if we stray from the military—worse, if Genesis' music career gets in the way of work. What are you going to do then?"

The silver teen's brows furrowed, "I do not require company every minute of my day, Angeal. If Genesis and you were to be discharged, so be it, I am unwilling to find someone to replace you both."

If he recalled properly, Genesis did insist that he spend time with Angeal and the 'puppy' while he was out with Strife. He couldn't understand why it was a necessity to stretch himself. Crowds were too much for Sephiroth to bear, and his "squad" was a crowd of three people. His comrades were hundreds, and each of them he couldn't recall their names nor faces, knowing he was going to lose them within the bloodbath they prepared. He couldn't be bothered to make note for the pain of remembrance if he lost them.

He's only learning how to care for the two friends he has due to Vincent's help. If he was still in Doctor Hojo's care, the chances of him turning a new leaf and offering a genuine smile were nigh. Such emotion was not permitted to feel, it was not in his profession and were cased in a black box oozing with green, tossed aside for the Doctor to play around with.

Metaphorically, of course.

"I don't mean it that way… I mean, there's nothing wrong with getting more friends, Sephiroth. Expand your boundaries." He was aware that his older friend meant well, he wanted him to grow and embrace the existences of others in his life that were not the two outcasts who rose to fame due to their peculiarities. This whole set-up of a normal life was intentional, after all. Normal people made friends, they worshipped higher ups, they were afraid of the end, wanting to make the most of their lives.

The auburn teen was dating the blond underclassman to be "normal". No one has ever heard of someone of his elegance not interested in either sex, only interested in looking good because it made him feel good, worth walking the grounds and kicking those unworthy.

The silver teen has seen with his own green eyes how the oldest of their friend circle—because let's admit it, Fair and Strife were his friends as well, just not as close as his best friends, but that's outside the point. He's witnessed how Genesis wasn't as secure about everything as he pretended to be.

He was still younger than Sephiroth in mental years, far younger than Angeal, trying to keep his combustible nature in check for it was an obligation. A self-imposed one, for what? He couldn't figure.

Age was merely a number when it came to the strength of the mind, no?

Whatever that he was trying to accomplish displayed on the surface. The public really viewed him as the scary one to deal with, the one that had them walking on eggshells with as they were never sure when there will be a parade of Firaga up their behinds. Haughty, conceited, demanding.. the silver teen heard all these strange words associated to him as he did pretty, classy, shrewd, and inspirational—the latter mostly by Strife who happened to be a huge supporter of his music career.

Though, he wasn't sure what "twink" meant.

"I will expand my boundaries when I deem it well. In this moment, I am still evaluating whether Strife and Fair are our friends, rather than yours and Genesis'."

And he wouldn't blame them if they were only friends with the vibrant duo. Sephiroth was not… Genesis nor Angeal. Strife liked Genesis, and Fair liked Angeal, both of them learning under his raven friend as part of his club. Sephiroth did not join any club that would have him teaching the youth.

Unfortunately, his reputation spoke alone for him. They were giving their minds and hearts, all he gave was a poster.

"You don't like them, Seph?" Angeal's eyes were soft, so tender as a mother's embrace that appeared to be reserved only for his two friends. Sephiroth felt the need to return a smile to him, though uncertain of how it came off as.

"I don't dislike them, if that is what you were assessing. I just—"

Like a bolt to the blue, his eyes squeezed shut, fingers clawing into his palms as his head began to pound. Angeal's panicked call going on deaf ears as all began to blur around him. Was it that… woman again? That insidious giggles that he shed aside so long ago when his friends came to his side?

No…

"Shall I give you despair?"

It was not a woman's giggle, that was his own voice! In his sight was a huge obsidian wing on his right side. Masamune lovingly held in his left hand as he had it outstretched and lifted into the air. The land was full of an ominous smog, so dark and dull in contrast to its natural competition with his friend's eyes. It was grey and with a thick concentration of dark matter that made it unbearable for him to breathe, and yet, the he who held his sword high was fine, smirking even. Black leather surrounded his body, dressing him head to toe matching the blackened skies. Latched on his sword was..

Was a blond boy much older than he was, currently. The man had panic in those blue eyes that were a shade lighter than Angeal and Zack's, but far darker than Genesis'. The blond was dressed in blue turtle-neck that had belts and belts around his body to hold the holster strapped on his back for what it appeared to be more than three blades. A pauldron on his left side, a red ribbon on his bicep, and black leather gloves he wore on both arms. Combat boots slid under baggy cotton pants, with a long cloth draped over his left leg.

Crimson poured out of the wound inflicted upon him, dripping down onto his magnificent blade.

"Tell me what you cherish most. Give me the pleasure of taking it away."

Sephiroth was grinning maniacally, so emaciated to the point that he was the figurehead of death. Voice so silken and yet not him. It was deep and rich as it was growing out to be, but this.. it was so hollow, so empty.

Just as he was about to comprehend what was at hand, it began to shift.

"The wound is not closing, he needs a blood transfusion for all the blood he's lost." Who was that?

The green-eyed male stood with his raven friend infront of a stocky male who slightly resembled Angeal but was a good foot shorter, obviously not a soldier. A peek up at the door the man blocked had Sephiroth's blood run cold.

They were standing at an infirmary.

If they were standing in an infirmary, with Sephiroth and Angeal concerned of the condition of whoever was bleeding to death, it meant something happened to Genesis.

There was no one else the two would only be privy to information without the President of the Student Council being in on it. While the boy was a condescending little piece of work, he was too clever for his own good to leave out incidents unheard. If there was anyone who he imagined knowing everything, it was Rufus.

This was a personal matter.

Sephiroth felt his feet taking him forward, wordlessly volunteering to have his blood used for the transfusion, only to be halted by a muscled arm. Green eyes widened as Angeal took a step forward, finding himself blinking at the Doctor's words.

"You won't do."

Was it his blood-type that didn't match?

Before he could input his own thoughts, he was intruded by ones that resembled his own. These thoughts having the same question but for reasons completely apart.

'Why can't I do? Mako enables blood of all kinds to be transfused. Genesis, Angeal and I hold the same type, we are the same.. human, SOLDIERS. Why can't I be the donor?'

It was flabbergasting, to say the least. Sephiroth watched Angeal enter the infirmary with wide eyes. Why Angeal if he couldn't procure the blood necessary for his friend. The Sephiroth in this moment kept repeating his question, bringing his hands to his chest and glancing down as if he was an abomination.

Sephiroth himself couldn't understand. He was raised in a lab, but he was still human. There was nothing about him that crossed the checklist to be one of them… unless they were not.

As if the visions were trying to give him what he sought, the scene shifted into what resembled an underground laboratory. Huge valves surrounded the lower level of the place, cerulean light beaming from a small circle on each protected by thick steel. Sephiroth was with a younger raven teen, dressed in the same black leather as earlier, and the child dressed in a blue turtle-neck and blue baggy pants. Two black pauldrons protected his shoulders as two brown straps came down his chest, holding a blade behind his back through magnetism.

The teen had spiky black hair flying in almost every direction, bangs parted from his face and sliding down the sides. Big blue eyes stared in utmost curiosity as he took in his surrounding.

That had to be Zack, even if he was older and much stronger in this moment.

"I've always thought I had some kind of special purpose. But I didn't think it would be something like this."

Sephiroth's eyes were at the valve he stood head to head with, finding himself fighting the spasms that were shooting up his head. His vision blinked, shifted in increments as streaks of light scratched the surface, into the crevices of his mind before it ceased.

Even this Sephiroth suffers from these blinks of this woman, it seemed.

"Just what am I…? Am I a human being?"

"No such luck. You're a.."

The answer was cut with the world returning to him. He wasn't in that dark place that flown by him in blurs. No.. he was back in his spacious and rather underwhelmed room. Angeal was by his side, resting Sephiroth's head on his shoulder as he ran his hand on the small of his back.

Glancing up, he found the slightly older male glaring to and fro for the cause of his little loss of focus, his fainting episode that lasted… how long was he out for? Was it night already? Did Genesis return from his romantic outing with Strife?

"Angeal, what's the matter?"

There would be no answer arriving to him any minute sooner if he kept asking himself, he figured it would be easier to attain it through his friend who had to sit there and watch the strange scene unfold. The raven teen perked up immediately at the sound of his voice, smiling in relief as he wrapped his other arm around him, so reminiscent to the times he held Sephiroth and Genesis when he had "the case of nerves".

"Thank Gaia you're awake, what happened to you? You were shaking on the ground for thirty minutes!"
Thirty minutes and that was all he'd seen? Surely, it had only been five minutes.

"Thirty minutes.. that's not possible."

"I knew it, you weren't feeling well. Sephiroth, there's nothing wrong with seeking help from us. Genesis is going to give a huge hoot if he hears his friend is not doing good." Angeal clicked his tongue, letting the silver teen sit upon the cushion before increasing the heating in the room, running to the corner and pulling the futons he had neatly folded.

"Would you give a huge hoot, Angeal?"

Stupid question, but it brought an amused smile to Sephiroth. Angeal glanced at him as if he grew a second head.

"Am I not? It's taking a lot for me not to scold for being so.. so silly!" for being so stupid.

With the force of a concerned mother, Angeal had Sephiroth wrapped in a blanket as he wasn't sure where he could pull a jacket for him from. The silver teen merely sat there with a goofy grin, watching his raven friend fuss so similarly to Genesis when he was doing improv on short notice. For one who was usually calm and sating the auburn teen when he threw the dramatics, it was interested to see him doing the same for a story of its own.

Genesis was frighteningly calm when he had to step up and grant assistance, while Angeal would be the one cursing himself for his inability to not notice the signs earlier. On a typical day, Angeal was good-natured and patient to Genesis' scowling irritability. Sephiroth just rolled with either.

What could he say? He tried to rile up Angeal, it didn't work. When he pokes a stick at Genesis, he flinches and fights back like a little cat. It was quite cute. Here Angeal was the riled-up parent watching over their careless kitten.

"My apologies for causing you distress.."

At this, Angeal pursed his lips. "Only apologize when you know you won't do it again."

Sephiroth's smile shifted to a wry one. "That I cannot guarantee unless I know."

He received a frown by his older friend, but one that did not expect immediate results. It was of understanding. He needed to be patient with Sephiroth as he did with all of his friends for the things they could not accomplish that easily. If character development was something that could be written in one line, there would be no such thing as conflict, no such need for life as it was. Existence would mean nothing without a little trouble, solving it and leading to understanding, then a rinse and repeat of that cycle.

"I didn't come here to upset you, Seph. Come, I'll make us dinner." As he rose, Sephiroth lifted his head to meet his eyes, unsure of why he had the need to—

"You can call Fair here. He doesn't have Strife by his side, it must be.. awkward for him, so to say."
The older male turned to meet his gaze before letting out a snicker.

"He does have friends, Seph, but I'll see if he wants to drop by."

"If he has a friend over, he could call him here too." The silver teen lowered his eyes, focusing on the hands on his lap. Why did he need to invite underclassmen over? They didn't need to pressure them to amuse him.. they had their lives to attend to. Sephiroth should not be a priority, he had two of the most popular upperclassmen by his side, and here he was demanding for more…?

Just how greedy could he get?

"That's the spirit." And yet.. Why was Angeal smiling at him, so full and with gentle eyes? Why was it when he felt so foolish, so stupid, so immature that his friend was glancing at him with such a tenderness, as if he was proud of him? "He says he'll be here with Kunsel in 5 minutes."

He couldn't understand. Why wasn't he being reprimanded for being so self-centered? Here he worried Angeal and now was dragging two or more people from their comfort zones to stay around him in the room that was the equivalent to a dungeon to them?

"Reaching out to people can feel like putting your head on the guillotine, I know." Angeal's hand rested on his shoulder, and Sephiroth lifted his gaze one last time, "it never gets easy, even with best friends at times. That's why I am glad you are trying."

And how he felt so elevated at that was anyone's guess. Sephiroth found himself needing to smile long and true.

Thank you, Angeal.