Chapter IV: The Missing Rainbow
A monster of a rainstorm, even bigger than the one that hit Nibelheim three years ago, pounded the city with wet, black sledgehammers as Hojo descended to the plaza in the clear-glass elevator. It had started has a fine sprinkling and steadily built its way up to a shower. By the time the evening rolled around, it was a full blown deluge complete with pyrotechnics of light and sound.
Despite the storm it was hot in the building and he wanted to get out and get some fresh air. He got off at the ground floor and went to the exit. Only a few other people were walking around. This was fine. He wanted to be alone anyway. He pushed open the door and was surprised to see Professor Gast leaning against a support pillar gazing up at the sky with vacant eyes. Well, he wasn't alone anymore.
"What are you doing out here so late?" Hojo asked.
"Hm?" Gast said without looking back. "Oh, it's you Kawasaki. I was just thinking. I need time to clear my head." Hojo walked over and leaned against the other side of the pillar. "I've been thinking about the Jenova project. The results of the Jenova/Cetra DNA comparison came back from the lab."
"And?"
"Jenova isn't a Cetra. It's something else entirely. There's nothing like it on record." He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He stuck one in the corner of his mouth and handed the pack backwards. "Cigarette?"
"No thanks," said Hojo. He heard the click of a lighter and Gast taking a drag.
"We don't know enough about this thing," said Gast, blowing out a cloud of smoke. "I'm not sure if we should continue with the project."
Hojo scowled. First the bastard steals the glory and now he wants to stop the project entirely? The fool. He has no idea of the possibilities. No idea at all. He clenched his fist. "President Shin-Ra has high expectations for this project," Hojo said. "He wouldn't continue funding it like this he has if he had any doubts. Besides, my son is living proof of the wonders of Jenova."
"But if we don't know what we're dealing with, we can't be doing the eth...the right thing." Hojo knew what he was about to say. Ethical. A weakling's word, an excuse for not giving your all.
"He's my son. I own him. I'll take responsibility." Silence from Gast's end. "The President wants results. Do or die Sephiroth is getting his Jenova injections tomorrow as scheduled. I saw him today. He's ready."
Gast sighed. "I'm afraid you're right as usual. I suppose the President won't take no for an answer."
Or me. "I was thinking maybe fifteen ccs of five percent Jenova." He said this with a sick sort of pleasure that made Gast feel a little ill.
"I don't think so," he said. "That's already about an adult's recommended dose. He might be sick for days if you give him that much."
Hojo's temper nearly snapped. "Don't you see that anything less is too little? The President wants results! If we get this right we're on the road to glory!"
"Five ccs will work well enough," Gast said wearily. Hojo started away.
"Fine. I'll go draw it up right now. Have yourself a good night." He went inside, letting the door swing shut behind him. Gast took the cigarette out of his mouth and exhaled. It had burned down to a stub. He watched the rain make ripples in the black puddles between the cobblestones.
"Are we really heading down the road to glory?" he mused. "Or the road to perdition?" He let the cigarette fall from his fingers and he crushed it under his foot.
"Sometimes I wonder."
"Can you see it?"
"I'm looking Honey, I'm looking." Both Sephiroth and Miriam were out on the small balcony of their apartment craning their necks to look at the sky. The storm had dissipated during the hours of the morning. The air had a fresh, clean smell to it as if the whole world was born anew. The sky was a flawless cerulean. Sephiroth heard that there would be a rainbow, so he and Miriam had spent the past fifteen minutes looking for it. He had only seen a rainbow once, about six months ago. The only memory he left of it was captured in a photograph that he kept in his album under the bed. He scanned the air looking for it and saw a flash of red, but no, that was just a Shin-Ra flag fluttering in the breeze on another balcony. He sighed.
"I guess it's not here," he said.
"I can't seem to find it either," said Miriam. She tapped her fist on the railing. "Shoot, I could have sworn there would have been one, the sun's behind us and everything. Ah, well, I'm sorry. Maybe next time."
"S'okay Ma'am," said Sephiroth a little dejectedly. He looked up at the sky one more time.
"Well, I'm going to take a shower," patting Sephiroth on the back. "I won't be that long, okay?"
"Yeah, all right." He followed Ma'am inside and went into his room while Ma'am went into her bathroom and shut the door. Sephiroth walked over to his drawing table in the right wing of the room and sat down, resuming work on a drawing he had started yesterday. It was a picture of him, Ma'am, and his dad on the top floor of the Shin-Ra building, looking over the city of Midgar. He was in the middle holding hands with both of them. Something about it displeased him though. The sky. That was it. It was to plain. He took the red crayon and drew a sweeping arc overhead. Then he took out the orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple crayons and did the same.
There. The rainbow may not have been outside, but it was here at least. He was choosing another crayon when he heard a knock at the door. He looked up, remembering that Ma'am probably couldn't hear the knock. Setting the drawing aside he went over to the front door and opened it. "Dad!" he said.
Hojo was standing there looking as impressive as ever. This time though, his eyes had a stern look of concentration that Sephiroth had never seen. He was also dressed differently. He wore a long coat so white and spotless that it almost made him squint. Sephiroth had the strangest feeling he had seen it before, but couldn't remember where. He didn't really care though. Hojo had come back again!
"Hey Dad! What are you doing here?" he asked. "I didn't think that you'd be back so soon. You know, with your job and all."
"Sephiroth, I'd like you to come with me," Hojo said. "I need to take you somewhere." Sephiroth cocked his head but turned around and cupped his hands around his mouth.
"Hey Ma'am! Dad's here and I'm going out with him, okay?" He turned back to Hojo and grabbed his hand. "Alright. Ready."
"Sephiroth?" called Miriam from her bathroom. She dashed out with a towel around her waist, still dripping wet, but by the time she got there, they were gone.
"So Dad, where we going today?" Sephiroth asked. This was one of the most pleasant surprises that could have happened to him.
Hojo said nothing in return. He only stared ahead with that same look of intense focus as they passed through the hallways. His olive eyes were cold and hard. A bit scary even. "Um, Dad?" he said.
No response.
Okay, so maybe he doesn't feel like talking today, he thought. That's fine. Still, he felt a strange sense of fear forming in the pit of his stomach. His outfit. It was so familiar. But why? He wracked his brain for a minute and found the answer. It was the same thing the man in his dream wore. And his mad scientist. So what if they wear the same thing? It doesn't mean anything.
They emerged from the hallways and Hojo made straight for the elevators. He picked up his pace so that Sephiroth actually had to run. He stopped in front of the elevator and jabbed the up button. The door opened without delay and they stepped inside. Sephiroth watched his father pull out the keycard and swipe it deftly by the slot in the door. The panel slid back. He didn't let Sephiroth press the button. He felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle when he saw what button it was.
It was number 67.
As the elevator rose higher, Sephiroth squeezed his father's hand more and more tightly. The 67th floor. Why was he going there now? Hojo said it himself: only people directly involved with the Science Department were allowed up there. So why?
The elevator stopped and the doors opened. The got out and found themselves in a place that seemed totally alien in comparison to the rest of the building. It was incredibly silent except for the soft humming of some kind of machinery. People dressed similarly to Hojo were walking around on the white tiled floor. The ceiling was covered in bright florescent lights. There were lab benches all around and what looked like large vats lined some of the walls. As they passed these, Sephiroth swore he heard something coming from inside.
Hojo led him to a small room from a door of the main lab. Inside were a black examination table and some cabinets at the far end of the room. More cabinets were placed above the table around the perimeter of the ceiling. The whole place had a stark smell to it that made Sephiroth want to gag. Hojo let go of his hand and pointed to his right.
"Get on the table," he commanded. Sephiroth looked up. He was about to ask why, but his father's icy gaze made the words die on his lips. He climbed up on the table. Hojo rolled up his sleeve and swabbed his arm with some of the smelly stuff. It was freezing and Sephiroth gave a little shiver. He watched Hojo go over to the wall and rummage through one of the placards. He stood up and Sephiroth saw the 10 cc syringe in his hand.
"Dad, what are you doing?" he asked in a shaky voice. Hojo said nothing. He squeezed the plunger and a couple of drops of pinkish fluid squirted out in a glistening arc. He turned to Sephiroth as if remembering he was there and walked towards him. "Dad, stop it," he said. "You're...scaring me." He felt himself backing away as Hojo approached him. His back bumped against the wall as he stared wide-eyed with fear. Hojo's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He plunged the needle into his arm.
Sephiroth screamed. Pain. More pain than he had ever felt in his life, a volatile burning that made his arm feel like a red hot metal rod. The fire spread through his veins and he felt it flaming in the tips of his fingers, to his feet, to behind his eyes, oh God, it burned. His whole body was on fire. He jerked away and hopped off the table, trying to run but the moment his feet touched the floor a new shock of pain shot through his body and his legs collapsed beneath him. He fell to the floor with tears running from his eyes in rivers. The floor was blessedly cool but it did little to quell the fire inside him. He drew his knees up to his chest and curled into a fetal position, a sobbing shuddering mess. And somewhere in his consciousness he heard high, mirthless laughter.
He had no idea how he ever made it back to the apartment. The world around him was enshrouded in a thick, red haze as he stumbled drunkenly through the halls. He was pretty sure that his father was there holding his hand, but later he found that he could hardly remember. The walk took an eternity. When he finally made it to the door, it opened and he fell to his knees on the carpet. He leaned against the wall with his arms wrapped around his legs and cried.
Miriam entered the foyer and immediately dropped the laundry basket she was carrying. She rushed over to Sephiroth. "Sephiroth! What's wrong? Are you okay?" she asked. He reached up and hugged her around the neck, sobbing into her chest. "Sephiroth, what's the matter honey, what's the matter?" But inside she knew what the matter was. Hojo had done something to him, something that had to do with the "project". She looked down at Sephiroth's arm. There was an angry red swelling on one of them that was rapidly becoming a greenish bruise. She hugged him tightly to her, not wanting to let him go. "What did he do to you?" she whispered. Sephiroth just shook his head.
She picked him up and carried him to his room. She laid him down on his bed. He pulled the covers over his head, shivering. Miriam walked back out, but stopped and stood in the doorway watching him. She suddenly remembered something that her old nanny used to tell her when she was younger.
"Hon, all little chillun are born blessed by the angels. They be the most innocent and pure things on God's green earth. Now, don't you evah make one of these chillun cry. Because when an angel child cries, the whole world will hear."
She wasn't quite sure what made her suddenly think of this. It was probably her disgust that his own father did something like this to him. Seeing him lying there shaking, seeming so small and alone made her heart ache. "Sephiroth," she said, "I'm so sorry." She flicked off the light and closed the door behind her.
It was 12:30 at night when Sephiroth finally awakened from his daze. He looked around, a bit disoriented. He was back in his own bed again. The apartment was in complete darkness, soothing and tranquil. That's when he realized with relief that his body was no longer burning like it was, though his arm still throbbed with unnatural heat. He also recalled why he had to get up: he hadn't gone to the bathroom since that morning.
He was reluctant to leave the warmth and softness of his bed, but he hopped out anyways and walked to the small bathroom in the left wing of his room. Despite his long nap, his legs still felt weak and shaky as he relieved himself. He went over to the sink and washed his hands, not looking down at the sink but at the mirror. His familiar face stared back at him. Same green eyes. Same white hair. Whatever was done to him didn't change him physically. He didn't feel particularly different either. His hand crept over to his arm and he winced. The spot had turned a sickly green color; it made him feel queasy looking at it.
He didn't mean to hurt me, Sephiroth tried to reassure himself. He was...probably just doing what was best. The reflection gave him a dubious look that clearly said "You sure about that?" He nodded his head back at it and turned off the light. Giving a small yelp of surprise, he stumbled backwards.
For a second infinitely brief, he was sure his eyes glowed.
But there was nothing there now. It was so dark he couldn't even see his reflection. Shaken, he returned to his bed and tried to sleep, but couldn't. The previous day still weighed on his brain. He didn't feel the least bit tired any more. Turning on the lamp on his dresser, he grabbed Bochi off the floor and set it in front of him.
"Bochi, what do you think that Dad was trying to do?" He felt silly asking a doll this, but he had to tell someone now. If he knew the word, he would have called it catharsis. As usual, Bochi didn't answer. Sephiroth rocked back and forth on his haunches. "I don't think he was trying to hurt me. He was probably trying to help me. Right?"
Bochi didn't answer.
Who knows what was in that thing? came the inner voice, the voice of doubt that haunted Miriam in the same way it did him. If it hurt that badly it can't be anything good. Stop fooling yourself.
Shut up! thought Sephiroth. What do you know?
You heard it as you fell. The laughter. He was laughing. Laughing at you.
I won't believe that. I was half fainted. I was imagining it.
Believe what you want.
"He's my Dad," he said aloud. His voice sounded melancholy and empty. "No matter what he did...I forgive him for it. I still love him." He turned around and got under the covers, leaving Bochi to fall on the floor forgotten.
A monster of a rainstorm, even bigger than the one that hit Nibelheim three years ago, pounded the city with wet, black sledgehammers as Hojo descended to the plaza in the clear-glass elevator. It had started has a fine sprinkling and steadily built its way up to a shower. By the time the evening rolled around, it was a full blown deluge complete with pyrotechnics of light and sound.
Despite the storm it was hot in the building and he wanted to get out and get some fresh air. He got off at the ground floor and went to the exit. Only a few other people were walking around. This was fine. He wanted to be alone anyway. He pushed open the door and was surprised to see Professor Gast leaning against a support pillar gazing up at the sky with vacant eyes. Well, he wasn't alone anymore.
"What are you doing out here so late?" Hojo asked.
"Hm?" Gast said without looking back. "Oh, it's you Kawasaki. I was just thinking. I need time to clear my head." Hojo walked over and leaned against the other side of the pillar. "I've been thinking about the Jenova project. The results of the Jenova/Cetra DNA comparison came back from the lab."
"And?"
"Jenova isn't a Cetra. It's something else entirely. There's nothing like it on record." He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He stuck one in the corner of his mouth and handed the pack backwards. "Cigarette?"
"No thanks," said Hojo. He heard the click of a lighter and Gast taking a drag.
"We don't know enough about this thing," said Gast, blowing out a cloud of smoke. "I'm not sure if we should continue with the project."
Hojo scowled. First the bastard steals the glory and now he wants to stop the project entirely? The fool. He has no idea of the possibilities. No idea at all. He clenched his fist. "President Shin-Ra has high expectations for this project," Hojo said. "He wouldn't continue funding it like this he has if he had any doubts. Besides, my son is living proof of the wonders of Jenova."
"But if we don't know what we're dealing with, we can't be doing the eth...the right thing." Hojo knew what he was about to say. Ethical. A weakling's word, an excuse for not giving your all.
"He's my son. I own him. I'll take responsibility." Silence from Gast's end. "The President wants results. Do or die Sephiroth is getting his Jenova injections tomorrow as scheduled. I saw him today. He's ready."
Gast sighed. "I'm afraid you're right as usual. I suppose the President won't take no for an answer."
Or me. "I was thinking maybe fifteen ccs of five percent Jenova." He said this with a sick sort of pleasure that made Gast feel a little ill.
"I don't think so," he said. "That's already about an adult's recommended dose. He might be sick for days if you give him that much."
Hojo's temper nearly snapped. "Don't you see that anything less is too little? The President wants results! If we get this right we're on the road to glory!"
"Five ccs will work well enough," Gast said wearily. Hojo started away.
"Fine. I'll go draw it up right now. Have yourself a good night." He went inside, letting the door swing shut behind him. Gast took the cigarette out of his mouth and exhaled. It had burned down to a stub. He watched the rain make ripples in the black puddles between the cobblestones.
"Are we really heading down the road to glory?" he mused. "Or the road to perdition?" He let the cigarette fall from his fingers and he crushed it under his foot.
"Sometimes I wonder."
"Can you see it?"
"I'm looking Honey, I'm looking." Both Sephiroth and Miriam were out on the small balcony of their apartment craning their necks to look at the sky. The storm had dissipated during the hours of the morning. The air had a fresh, clean smell to it as if the whole world was born anew. The sky was a flawless cerulean. Sephiroth heard that there would be a rainbow, so he and Miriam had spent the past fifteen minutes looking for it. He had only seen a rainbow once, about six months ago. The only memory he left of it was captured in a photograph that he kept in his album under the bed. He scanned the air looking for it and saw a flash of red, but no, that was just a Shin-Ra flag fluttering in the breeze on another balcony. He sighed.
"I guess it's not here," he said.
"I can't seem to find it either," said Miriam. She tapped her fist on the railing. "Shoot, I could have sworn there would have been one, the sun's behind us and everything. Ah, well, I'm sorry. Maybe next time."
"S'okay Ma'am," said Sephiroth a little dejectedly. He looked up at the sky one more time.
"Well, I'm going to take a shower," patting Sephiroth on the back. "I won't be that long, okay?"
"Yeah, all right." He followed Ma'am inside and went into his room while Ma'am went into her bathroom and shut the door. Sephiroth walked over to his drawing table in the right wing of the room and sat down, resuming work on a drawing he had started yesterday. It was a picture of him, Ma'am, and his dad on the top floor of the Shin-Ra building, looking over the city of Midgar. He was in the middle holding hands with both of them. Something about it displeased him though. The sky. That was it. It was to plain. He took the red crayon and drew a sweeping arc overhead. Then he took out the orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple crayons and did the same.
There. The rainbow may not have been outside, but it was here at least. He was choosing another crayon when he heard a knock at the door. He looked up, remembering that Ma'am probably couldn't hear the knock. Setting the drawing aside he went over to the front door and opened it. "Dad!" he said.
Hojo was standing there looking as impressive as ever. This time though, his eyes had a stern look of concentration that Sephiroth had never seen. He was also dressed differently. He wore a long coat so white and spotless that it almost made him squint. Sephiroth had the strangest feeling he had seen it before, but couldn't remember where. He didn't really care though. Hojo had come back again!
"Hey Dad! What are you doing here?" he asked. "I didn't think that you'd be back so soon. You know, with your job and all."
"Sephiroth, I'd like you to come with me," Hojo said. "I need to take you somewhere." Sephiroth cocked his head but turned around and cupped his hands around his mouth.
"Hey Ma'am! Dad's here and I'm going out with him, okay?" He turned back to Hojo and grabbed his hand. "Alright. Ready."
"Sephiroth?" called Miriam from her bathroom. She dashed out with a towel around her waist, still dripping wet, but by the time she got there, they were gone.
"So Dad, where we going today?" Sephiroth asked. This was one of the most pleasant surprises that could have happened to him.
Hojo said nothing in return. He only stared ahead with that same look of intense focus as they passed through the hallways. His olive eyes were cold and hard. A bit scary even. "Um, Dad?" he said.
No response.
Okay, so maybe he doesn't feel like talking today, he thought. That's fine. Still, he felt a strange sense of fear forming in the pit of his stomach. His outfit. It was so familiar. But why? He wracked his brain for a minute and found the answer. It was the same thing the man in his dream wore. And his mad scientist. So what if they wear the same thing? It doesn't mean anything.
They emerged from the hallways and Hojo made straight for the elevators. He picked up his pace so that Sephiroth actually had to run. He stopped in front of the elevator and jabbed the up button. The door opened without delay and they stepped inside. Sephiroth watched his father pull out the keycard and swipe it deftly by the slot in the door. The panel slid back. He didn't let Sephiroth press the button. He felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle when he saw what button it was.
It was number 67.
As the elevator rose higher, Sephiroth squeezed his father's hand more and more tightly. The 67th floor. Why was he going there now? Hojo said it himself: only people directly involved with the Science Department were allowed up there. So why?
The elevator stopped and the doors opened. The got out and found themselves in a place that seemed totally alien in comparison to the rest of the building. It was incredibly silent except for the soft humming of some kind of machinery. People dressed similarly to Hojo were walking around on the white tiled floor. The ceiling was covered in bright florescent lights. There were lab benches all around and what looked like large vats lined some of the walls. As they passed these, Sephiroth swore he heard something coming from inside.
Hojo led him to a small room from a door of the main lab. Inside were a black examination table and some cabinets at the far end of the room. More cabinets were placed above the table around the perimeter of the ceiling. The whole place had a stark smell to it that made Sephiroth want to gag. Hojo let go of his hand and pointed to his right.
"Get on the table," he commanded. Sephiroth looked up. He was about to ask why, but his father's icy gaze made the words die on his lips. He climbed up on the table. Hojo rolled up his sleeve and swabbed his arm with some of the smelly stuff. It was freezing and Sephiroth gave a little shiver. He watched Hojo go over to the wall and rummage through one of the placards. He stood up and Sephiroth saw the 10 cc syringe in his hand.
"Dad, what are you doing?" he asked in a shaky voice. Hojo said nothing. He squeezed the plunger and a couple of drops of pinkish fluid squirted out in a glistening arc. He turned to Sephiroth as if remembering he was there and walked towards him. "Dad, stop it," he said. "You're...scaring me." He felt himself backing away as Hojo approached him. His back bumped against the wall as he stared wide-eyed with fear. Hojo's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He plunged the needle into his arm.
Sephiroth screamed. Pain. More pain than he had ever felt in his life, a volatile burning that made his arm feel like a red hot metal rod. The fire spread through his veins and he felt it flaming in the tips of his fingers, to his feet, to behind his eyes, oh God, it burned. His whole body was on fire. He jerked away and hopped off the table, trying to run but the moment his feet touched the floor a new shock of pain shot through his body and his legs collapsed beneath him. He fell to the floor with tears running from his eyes in rivers. The floor was blessedly cool but it did little to quell the fire inside him. He drew his knees up to his chest and curled into a fetal position, a sobbing shuddering mess. And somewhere in his consciousness he heard high, mirthless laughter.
He had no idea how he ever made it back to the apartment. The world around him was enshrouded in a thick, red haze as he stumbled drunkenly through the halls. He was pretty sure that his father was there holding his hand, but later he found that he could hardly remember. The walk took an eternity. When he finally made it to the door, it opened and he fell to his knees on the carpet. He leaned against the wall with his arms wrapped around his legs and cried.
Miriam entered the foyer and immediately dropped the laundry basket she was carrying. She rushed over to Sephiroth. "Sephiroth! What's wrong? Are you okay?" she asked. He reached up and hugged her around the neck, sobbing into her chest. "Sephiroth, what's the matter honey, what's the matter?" But inside she knew what the matter was. Hojo had done something to him, something that had to do with the "project". She looked down at Sephiroth's arm. There was an angry red swelling on one of them that was rapidly becoming a greenish bruise. She hugged him tightly to her, not wanting to let him go. "What did he do to you?" she whispered. Sephiroth just shook his head.
She picked him up and carried him to his room. She laid him down on his bed. He pulled the covers over his head, shivering. Miriam walked back out, but stopped and stood in the doorway watching him. She suddenly remembered something that her old nanny used to tell her when she was younger.
"Hon, all little chillun are born blessed by the angels. They be the most innocent and pure things on God's green earth. Now, don't you evah make one of these chillun cry. Because when an angel child cries, the whole world will hear."
She wasn't quite sure what made her suddenly think of this. It was probably her disgust that his own father did something like this to him. Seeing him lying there shaking, seeming so small and alone made her heart ache. "Sephiroth," she said, "I'm so sorry." She flicked off the light and closed the door behind her.
It was 12:30 at night when Sephiroth finally awakened from his daze. He looked around, a bit disoriented. He was back in his own bed again. The apartment was in complete darkness, soothing and tranquil. That's when he realized with relief that his body was no longer burning like it was, though his arm still throbbed with unnatural heat. He also recalled why he had to get up: he hadn't gone to the bathroom since that morning.
He was reluctant to leave the warmth and softness of his bed, but he hopped out anyways and walked to the small bathroom in the left wing of his room. Despite his long nap, his legs still felt weak and shaky as he relieved himself. He went over to the sink and washed his hands, not looking down at the sink but at the mirror. His familiar face stared back at him. Same green eyes. Same white hair. Whatever was done to him didn't change him physically. He didn't feel particularly different either. His hand crept over to his arm and he winced. The spot had turned a sickly green color; it made him feel queasy looking at it.
He didn't mean to hurt me, Sephiroth tried to reassure himself. He was...probably just doing what was best. The reflection gave him a dubious look that clearly said "You sure about that?" He nodded his head back at it and turned off the light. Giving a small yelp of surprise, he stumbled backwards.
For a second infinitely brief, he was sure his eyes glowed.
But there was nothing there now. It was so dark he couldn't even see his reflection. Shaken, he returned to his bed and tried to sleep, but couldn't. The previous day still weighed on his brain. He didn't feel the least bit tired any more. Turning on the lamp on his dresser, he grabbed Bochi off the floor and set it in front of him.
"Bochi, what do you think that Dad was trying to do?" He felt silly asking a doll this, but he had to tell someone now. If he knew the word, he would have called it catharsis. As usual, Bochi didn't answer. Sephiroth rocked back and forth on his haunches. "I don't think he was trying to hurt me. He was probably trying to help me. Right?"
Bochi didn't answer.
Who knows what was in that thing? came the inner voice, the voice of doubt that haunted Miriam in the same way it did him. If it hurt that badly it can't be anything good. Stop fooling yourself.
Shut up! thought Sephiroth. What do you know?
You heard it as you fell. The laughter. He was laughing. Laughing at you.
I won't believe that. I was half fainted. I was imagining it.
Believe what you want.
"He's my Dad," he said aloud. His voice sounded melancholy and empty. "No matter what he did...I forgive him for it. I still love him." He turned around and got under the covers, leaving Bochi to fall on the floor forgotten.