Day Five

Sometime during the war with Wutai.

*There was a sharp cry off to his right, another soldier fallen. A shot rang out, and he threw himself down an instant before bullets began to pepper the ground around him; one struck mere millimeters from his right shoulder, a cloud of dirt and dust flying up with its impact.

There was a short pause in the onslaught, but those few seconds were all he needed to fire off a round of his own bullets; however, unlike the Wutai soldiers who blindly fired in the direction of their enemy, he actually picked targets. It was only a handgun, with only twelve bullets, but it was effective nonetheless.

First shot missed, but the second struck the commander of the Wutai regiment in the throat. Third went straight up the barrel of an enemy rifle, exploding in the chamber - not where he had been aiming, but whatever worked. Fourth shot to a soldier's gut, more than likely fatal. Fifth missed. Sixth struck another soldier in the face. Seventh missed its intended target, but hit another beyond it. Eighth hit another soldier in the shoulder, and the ninth in his chest. Tenth landing in the shooting arm of yet another soldier. Eleventh missed, and the twelfth. misfired! The damnable bullet misfired! What a time to jam up his gun!

Just as he was about to cast the now worthless weapon aside, a footfall next to him shoved the thought from his mind. He rolled away as the owner of the foot kicked, barely missing his head. He struck out with his right leg, swiping the Wutai soldier's legs out from beneath him; the soldier fell forward. Simultaneously, he dropped the gun and pulled out a booey knife. Yanking the soldier's head back by the hair, he slit the man's throat.

"General!" It was one of his soldiers. "We're being overwhelmed! What do we do?"

A quick glance over the battlefield gave him all the details he needed: twenty of his soldiers, seventy of theirs. But his were all First Class Soldiers, and from the way the Wutai regiment was fighting, it was apparent that they were all draftees without any true battle experience, nevertheless expertise. "We hold!" he shouted. "There's nowhere to run to."

"But, sir."

"If we fall back, they'll be given too great an opening to attack the main army. We have to hold! Lieutenant Leo!"

A burly soldier with a crew cut ran up next to him. "You're orders, sir?"

He pointed to a cluster of approximately twenty Wutai soldiers, a perfect opportunity to severely diminish their numbers. "Send our buddies a little present."

"Yes, sir!" Leo hoisted a grenade launcher to his shoulder, aimed, and fired. The grenade hit its mark, and exploded upon impact. The group was thrown outward, the ones closest to the impact dying instantly while those toward the edges of the group were given fatal wounds.

He retrieved an automatic rifle from another one of his soldiers and loaded it. Fifty rounds were all he had, but it'd do well enough. He scanned the battlefield again, and spotted line of soldiers. Wutai was making it all too easy for them. Lieutenant Leo picked up his own rifle, and together they mowed down the opposing line. What did that leave? About forty Wutai soldiers?

"Sir! They're still advancing!"

"So let's make them think twice about it. Load up!" The ShinRa soldiers did as they were bid, and loaded their weapons. "All right, spread out! Don't give them a larger target to shoot at. Two lines. First line, on my mark.. Fire!"

Bullets sailed across the battlefield to meet the Wutai army. Cries resounded as soldiers were struck down by the flying lead. "First line, reload. Second line, fire!" In perfect unison the ShinRa soldiers carried out their orders, and diminished the numbers of the Wutai army to a mere fifteen. Not exactly a fair fight, but this was war, after all.

The return fire came before the second line had finished its barrage. Some of the soldiers were quick enough to hit the dirt before they were shot down, but not enough of them. Seven died as Wutai's bullets pierced their bodies. He felt a spray of blood and bone across his face as a bullet passed through Leo's head. "Perfect! Just perfect!" he shouted. He glanced over the ranks of his soldiers; there were only thirteen now, including him.

The firing stopped, and for a brief moment the battlefield was silent. Then the silence was broken as the remaining Wutai soldiers raced across the open ground, screaming their battle cry. The ShinRa soldiers met them head on, and the battle continued.

He brought the butt of his gun up to the face of a soldier rushing him; there was a crack of bone and a spurt of blood as the man's nose was shoved up into his brain. He dropped the rifle and pulled his remaining pistol. He planted two bullets into the ribcage of a Wutai soldier who was gaining an advantage over one of his own. He fired another shot into the gut of another soldier. From the corner of his eye, he saw a Wutai soldier running up to him, which he promptly shot and killed.

Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in his left side; a woman from the Wutai army had impaled him on the blade of an oversized shiruken. Without even thinking, he turned the gun on the woman who had skewered him, and emptied the rest of the bullets into her chest. He felt the weapon wrenched from his body as the woman fell away from him. Hot blood gushed down his side, plastering his uniform to his skin.

"General!"

He barely heard the cry. He felt light-headed, queasy, tired, but no pain. How odd. He wondered if she'd severed his spine. The gun fell from his hand, and he dropped to his knees. No. He felt it when his knees hit the ground, sending a fresh wave of pain to course its way up his legs.

He looked at the woman that had killed him. She looked so familiar. Ah, yes. Now he remembered. This was Sonja Kisarigi, Godo's wife. At least they were even. She killed him; he killed her. It was a fair trade.

He slumped the rest of the way to the ground. Just before he blacked out, just before he faded into that vast oblivion, he thought,* On the bright side, I'll never have to deal with that fat bastard I call a father again. *Darkness overcame him.

He opened his eyes and blinked. What happened? He lay still for some time, taking in and assessing his surroundings. He was lying in a bed, covered up to his chest with sheets. There was a single window in the room, light filtering through faded curtains. Opposite the window was a closed door. Other than the bed, the only other furnishing to the space was a single chair; draped over it was his uniform - or the remnants of it.

He attempted to sit up, but pain racked his body and forced him to lie back down. His hand went instinctively to his side, where the wound was. Beneath the cloth he could feel bandages. There was a section of the wrappings that felt moist; he assumed he was bleeding through. He brought his hand up to his face and, sure enough, there were feint crimson stains on his fingers.

He made a second attempt to sit up, this time more slowly. He winced against the pain, and managed to push himself into a position where the headboard would support him. He examined his bandages more closely - an amateur's handiwork, but it did its job effectively enough. Some of his more minor wounds had healed and scarred, indicating just how long he had been unconscious.

He heard a light click from the doorknob, and hurried to cover himself with the sheets before the door opened. A young woman no older than him walked into the room carrying fresh bandages, which she dropped when she saw him. "Oh!" she exclaimed happily. "You're awake. We were beginning to think you would never come around." She gathered up the bandages and placed them on the chair with his clothes, never once letting her eyes divert from his face. "Let me get Father."

He let her leave, happy to have her gone; he didn't like the way she looked at him. Besides, if she wasn't in the room, that meant she wasn't with him trying to change his bandages or do who knows what else.

It wasn't long before she returned - he did his best to hide his disappointment - with a tall, rotund man in tow. The man's face was nearly completely hidden by his bushy red beard and eyebrows, but his eyes were kind. He walked over to the bed and laughed, "So you are awake. Good! Good!" He turned to the girl. "Raysa, go tell your mother to bring in some soup, while I tell our young friend what's happened. I'm sure he's confused."

"Yes, Father." She skipped off to do as she was told.

"My name is Heinen," the man introduced himself. He waited, and when it was apparent no response was forthcoming, he asked, "And you are?"

"JT," was the blunt reply.

"Well, JT, it's nice to finally know your name. We were beginning to think you weren't going to make it."

"Exactly how long have I been here?" There was no gentleness or curiosity to his voice; it was more of a demand, than anything. "And how did I get here?"

"Well," Heinen replied with the utmost courtesy, "you've been here for three months now. My son, Crynn, found you outside Wutai on the battlefield. You were the only person still alive." He became sad. "Poor Lady Sonja. Her little girl will be heartbroken."

JT decided not to tell him he was the one that killed Lady Sonja. It would be better for them and him. "I've been here three months."

Heinen nodded.

"My entire regiment is dead."

Again, Heinen nodded.

JT sighed. He closed his eyes, and leaned his head against the headboard.

"I'm sorry. This meaningless war has taken the lives of a lot of good men and women. It's all such a waste." He turned to the sound of the opening door, and welcomed his wife with a smile. "Mari, meet young JT. JT this is my wife, Mari."

"Hello, JT." Her voice was quiet. "It's good to see you're awake. We were beginning to worry."

He didn't bother to open his eyes or otherwise return her greeting.

Three months! He was the only one left. He was sure the wound was fatal. Ah, but there was the rub. The wound would have been fatal had it not been tended to. The boy must have found him immediately after the battle had ended. Contacting the army would be out of the question; they probably thought he was dead, and the messenger would have to be from Wutai, meaning he'd be killed before he delivered the message. He couldn't go to a Wutai hospital, because they would most likely send him to prison instead. That meant he was stuck with the Swiss Family Robinson. Perfect. He almost wished he had died.

A year and a half. A year and a half he'd spent with that small, secluded family. It was a nightmare. He wasn't able to leave the bed for another four months, and even then they refused to let him do anything by himself. He had no privacy whatsoever, and they wondered why he was always so cranky.

And the girl! The girl, Raysa, made everything ten times worse. She insisted on being around him twenty-four hours a day. She wanted to help him with everything - EVERYTHING! At the beginning he had tried to be polite, but over the course of the first week he simply became bitter and reclusive. He didn't know how much more he could stand. He knew very well why she followed him around - she was in love with him - but he couldn't understand why she felt the way she did. She knew nothing about him. The entire time he was there, he'd never said more than ten words to her. Perhaps she was one of those sick people that liked to be abused and neglected.

Her brother was a pain as well. Crynn constantly asked him questions - which he never answered - and imitated anything he did, even if he was simply sitting and staring out a window. It was one of the most annoying experiences of his young life.

The father insisted on trying to make conversation, and his overly friendliness grated JT's nerves. How could any one person like everything so much, and be so damned happy all the time?

The mother, however, was descent enough company. She didn't keep his company nearly as much as the rest of her family, but when she did he actually enjoyed her presence. She didn't insist on talking if he didn't want to talk. She didn't stare at him like either of her children. And, above all, she didn't smile like an idiot twenty-four-seven. It was rather refreshing. She seemed to understand how little patience he had for everyone's pampering, and if it hadn't been for her, he would never have had any time to himself at all. Hell! If it hadn't been for her, Raysa probably would have insisted on sleeping in the same bed with him When it came time for him to go, he realized how much he would miss Mari - but he was still exuberantly happy to leave. Despite his fondness for Mari, he decided he never wanted to see any of them again.*

5:49 a.m. Rufus's home in Junon.

Rufus woke to a searing pain in his side. His hand went instinctively to that old wound; he felt the scar that was a constant reminder of that year and a half of hell. He hated that dream. He hated the pain it brought back. He hated remembering that part of his past. But most of all, he hated remembering *her*, that intolerable girl that had made his life so miserable when he had been there.

The young president sat up, wincing as his flesh screamed in protest. He attempted to stand, but pain racked his body, forcing him to his knees; he dropped to the floor with an audible thud, one arm supporting him and the other clutching his aching side. He found it hard to breathe, his breaths coming in short shallow gasps. A new wave of pain enveloped him, and he almost cried out against it.

He didn't notice the sound of hurried footsteps coming down the hall, or hear his room door open; he barely felt the soft, warm hands on his shoulders. But he knew who it was, who it always was whenever his body went into these spasms. Rita. She was his nursemaid when he was a child, and had stayed with him while he was in the army. She was the one that had sent false reports to his parents, telling them he was in school and doing fine. She had even been waiting for him when he finally returned from Wutai. In truth, she was more of a mother to him than his biological mother could ever hope to be. If not for Rita, he wouldn't even know what if felt like to have someone care about him.

Rufus sensed more than heard Rita's gentle voice making soothing sounds, calming his nerves and easing his pain. Her presence alone could have done it, but she always did make sure to give him too much of a good thing. Sometimes Rufus thought she didn't even realize how much she spoiled him. Ah, but he also knew she wouldn't have thought of it as spoiling, but instead as maternal devotion. So why didn't his biological mother ever do things the way Rita did? It's not as though she was busy. No, it couldn't be maternal devotion. Either that, or his mother just didn't care; it wouldn't have surprised him. He was pretty sure it was the latter.

Rita helped him to his feet, and back over to the bed. "Rufus, I'm worried about you. All this overtime you've been putting in and this whole expedition to take Wutai, it's putting too much stress on you. And you've been having that dream more than ever. At this rate you'll have a breakdown by the end of the week."

"No, I won't," he wheezed, the pain still constricting his lungs. "I don't have time for a breakdown. I'll finish everything, and *then* I'll have a breakdown."

"You need to relax. This isn't good for your health."

"I'm fine."

"Sweeting, please, don't do this to yourself. Promise me you'll let up."

Rufus remained silent.

"Promise me," she demanded.

He nodded stiffly. "All right. I promise."

9:00 a.m. Rufus's office in Junon.

The speaker buzzed. "Mr. President," Cara's voice said, "there's a young woman by the name of Aeris Gainsborough here. She wishes to speak with you."

"I'm busy," he replied, unconcerned.

There was a pause on the other end, and then Cara's voice returned. "Sir, she says it's urgent."

"Fine. Send her in." He continued to shuffle through the paperwork on his desk - which was now somewhat assorted - even after she entered. "Make it quick," he ordered.

"Why are you treating Sephiroth like this?" she asked, her voice pleading.

"Treat him like what?" He scribbled the elegant swirls of his signature onto a form and set it aside.

"Like a stranger. Like he's just another name on your payroll."

"Because he is." He finished scanning another form, crumpled it up, and threw it over his shoulder into a trashcan behind him.

"You may have duped everyone else, but you're not fooling me."

He looked up at her then. Her eyes were filled with unaccustomed pain and anger. He wove his fingers, leaned forward in his seat, and rested his arms on his desk. "I have no idea what you're talking about. You'll have to elaborate."

"Does the name 'JT' ring any bells?"

The corner of Rufus's mouth twitched - a smile? "Let me guess. The planet told you." She nodded, and Rufus exploded into laughter.

Aeris became offended, her anger rising. "What's so funny?"

Somehow, between the hasty breaths and spouts of laughter, Aeris managed to make out the words, "You actually think JT's relationships matter to me?" He began to laugh harder.

"How can you find this funny? How can you be so cold? Isn't there anyone or anything other than yourself you love?"

His laughter died. "None that I can think of." He didn't count his surrogate mother-son relationship with Rita. As far as he was concerned, that was necessary to his very survival; love was expendable. His voice became deathly serious. "Relationships take work to keep together, meaning they take time. As such, love should be left for those who have time for it. As it is, I barely have time to get a descent night's sleep. Sometimes I don't. I don't have the time to spend coddling people's emotions. I have more important things to do."

"So you're saying that Sephiroth never meant anything to you?"

He laughed again, an evilly mocking sound. "Sephiroth was just another tool. I played the part long enough to get what I wanted out of him. I used him, nothing more."

Aeris stood in utter shock.

"You can tell him I said that if you want." His lips curled into a cruel smile. "I'm sure his reaction will surprise you."

12:33 p.m. Junon harbor.

Aeris sat at the end of an empty dock and cried. What was she going to do? If she told Sephiroth the truth about JT it would crush him, and the last thing she wanted to do was hurt that fragile soul. But the longer the lie went unrevealed, the more it would hurt him when he did find out the truth.

She wiped away her tears, but they were quickly replaced. Damn Rufus! How could anyone be so cruel? She didn't think anyone could truly have a heart of ice, but now she doubted if the president even had a heart.

She heard footsteps behind her. Turning around to see who it was, she found Cloud. He was looking at her with an expression of astonishment mixed with elation and love. It broke her heart knowing she would have to break his - especially when she told him for whom she was doing it. Her crying increased tenfold. "Oh, Cloud," she sobbed.

Cloud knelt on the dock next to her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. "Aeris, you're alive! What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"I'm *sob* so *sob* sorry."

"Sorry? About what?"

Her crying increased even more.

"Aw, Aeris, don't cry. What's wrong? Tell me."

"S- *sob* S- *sniff* Seph- *sob, sniff* -iroth."

"I know. He's alive, but that's not your fault. You did the best you could. We'll just have to go after him again."

She pulled away from him, still crying but now more frightened than distraught. She shook her head frantically.

"Aeris, don't worry. We won't let him hurt you again."

"No. *sniff* It's not that." She took a deep, shaky breath to try and calm herself. "Cloud, please. Don't go after Sephiroth."

He became confused. "What? Why?"

"Because. because." She couldn't tell him.

"Because what?"

She stared at him for the longest time. She had to tell him now, or hurt him more latter. And now she knew what to do about telling Sephiroth about JT. "Because I love him," she squeaked.

Cloud reeled visibly. He lost his balance and landed on his butt. "You. You love him? You *love* him? But-but-but. how?! Aeris, he killed you! He tried to destroy the world! He's allied with ShinRa! He's evil! How can you possibly *love* him?!"

"Because I understand what he's been through. I know what he's feeling. And he's not evil." *Rufus on the other hand.* she thought bitterly. "Cloud, I don't expect you or the others to understand, and I don't expect you to accept it. But this is how I feel. I love Sephiroth. And he loves me."

Cloud dropped his jaw. "What?" He grabbed Aeris by the shoulders and shook her. "What are you saying? What could possibly give you the idea that he loves you? This is Sephiroth we're talking about. He doesn't love you. If he told you that then he's just playing with your head to get at me."

Aeris didn't even think about it, she just reached up and slapped him. "Not everything revolves around you, Cloud. Just because you don't believe it doesn't mean it can't happen. You have no right to judge his emotions! I'm sorry, Cloud. I love him, and I won't leave him. Not even for you." She got up and ran off, her crying renewed. Cloud remained on the dock, wondering what he'd done to lose her.

7:13 p.m. Junon beach.

Sephiroth found Aeris sitting in the sand, watching the sunset. She hadn't told him where she would be. He just knew. Just like he knew that she was upset, and that it involved him though it wasn't his fault. Weird.

He walked up to her, ever silent. But just like he knew where she was, he knew she knew he was there. He sat down beside her; she stiffened, but otherwise didn't acknowledge his presence. He place an arm around her shoulders, gave her a gentle squeeze. It was then she threw herself completely into his arms. She sobbed into his chest her entire encounter with Cloud.

Sephiroth felt his anger rise. How dare that spiky-haired moron treat her like that! As if he knew anything about what they felt for each other! As if he could ever comprehend what they shared!

He must have started to stand, because he felt Aeris tug on his coat. "Please, don't," she begged. "Just leave him alone. Whatever he does, it won't change anything. He can't come between us. Please, let him be."

His blood was boiling. He wanted to break every bone in Cloud's body and toss him into a pit of angry, rabid chocobos. He wanted to make him suffer for causing her so much distress. But one look into her eyes was enough to convince him not to. Oh, he was still angry. Outraged even. But he wasn't about to do anything to make Aeris feel worse. So he sat back down and pulled her to him, burying his face in her hair.

"Sephiroth?"

"Hmm?"

"There's something I need to talk to you about." She pulled away to look at him. "It's about JT."

Sephiroth waited in silence.

When she had gathered enough courage, she confessed, "Rufus is JT."

What Sephiroth said next completely shocked her. "Oh, I know," he replied almost enthusiastically.

She shook her head. "You know?"

Sephiroth smiled, sensing his girlfriend's confusion. He wasn't trying to belittle her; he just thought it was amusing. "Well, I didn't know back then" - he referred back to the war - "but I knew when I saw Rufus on the transport ship to Costa del Sol four months ago. Once you've seen his face, there's no mistaking him."

"But that's not all. He was your best friend during the war, but I talked with him this morning and he said it was nothing."

The soldier nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like Rufus."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"No. Had it been anyone else I might have been at least annoyed, but you should expect that kind of stuff from Rufus. He's not the caring type. It's just the way he is. He's a cold, self-centered bastard, but that's why he does his job so well."

"How do you figure?"

"The only thing he's concerned with is furthering his own interests. However, unlike his father - who was an utter idiot - Rufus knows that the best way to further his interests is to further those of others. So he does what's best for the people, which helps the company, which in turn benefits him. It's a cycle of egocentrism that has happy little perks for everyone else."

"So you don't mind that he used you?"

Sephiroth shrugged. "Story of my life. At least he didn't gain from any expense on my part, which is more than I can say for most cases."