Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, or any part of it.

Note: All right…once again, sorry for the longish wait. I'm on break now for a week, so maybe I'll be able to update more often since I have more time.

Chapter 5: Injuries

Sephiroth's footsteps as he walked up Tifa's wooden porch to her front door were the loudest sound the dark-haired woman could hear. Her heart hammered in her chest twice as fast as her captor's footsteps, and somehow seemed to form an eerie rhythm that only she could hear. Both of them were very much aware of the crowd of people that had gathered around the Seventh Heaven, their wondering eyes burning into the pair's retreating backs.

Tifa's blood was already running cold as her imagination went wild, forming several insane ideas of how Sephiroth might punish her once they got inside. She knew he would be angrier if one of the people watching them said anything—this is why her blood froze when some man muttered to whomever was standing next to him, "That really is Sephiroth, isn't it?"

"Yeah," said the person next to him, who turned out to be a woman. "What's he doin' with Tifa, though?"

"Maybe they're in love!"

"Should someone call th' Shinra?"

"Ew, why?"

Sephiroth's hand was already on the doorknob at that point. Tifa could actually see how much he hated the Shinra—the metal her doorknob was made out of was solid brass, yet Sephiroth's fingers were denting it as though he were squeezing a soft rubber ball.

He turned his head over his shoulder and glared at Tifa. Get inside. Now. He didn't even have to say this out loud; Tifa was no mind reader, but she could somehow interpret his glare into that message. She was already in trouble, so she dared not disobey him, and rushed ahead of him to the inside of the bar once Sephiroth opened the door. She was barely inside when the door slammed shut behind her.

Outside, Sephiroth turned fully around to face the group of people. There weren't too many—fifteen, at the most, maybe. As he unsheathed the Masamune, he was glad Tifa was inside. That way, he wouldn't accidentally hurt her when he thought.

After all, he thought, she could very well be useful…

Sephiroth swept the Masamune into a battle position, so that it made a very impressive whoosh sound as the thin blade sliced through air. "My, how very observant you rats are. Yes, I am Sephiroth. Allow me to give you a demonstration of my power. Allow the show…it will be the last you'll ever see in this life…"

He took a step forward, carefully counting the people in the crowd. There were fifteen exactly—therefore, he intended to commit fifteen murders today. They were all gawking at him. Those fools, looking at me like I'm some sort of freak show, he thought. He raised the Masamune slightly, ready to kill them all. Oh, how he hated that look—

Hojo and some other, younger scientists looked down at the six-year-old Sephiroth, who was lying helplessly on some metal table, needles stuck in his arms, hooked to some machine. Gallons of some strange, foreign, and painful substances were being pumped constantly into his bloodstream. The group of scientists looked awestruck, even cruelly amused, at the young boy—Hojo, most of all.

"Interesting, Professor," one of the younger scientists said, looking up at his senior. "When are you going to give a demonstration of him?"

"Very soon. I suppose I should feed the boy first, though," Hojo said, waving a hand to suggest that the younger scientists should leave now. They did, but not after gazing at the young Sephiroth as though he were some fascinating animal in a zoo.

—How he absolutely hated it.

Sephiroth brought the Masamune down several times blindly, hitting something each time. He was deaf to their screams, numb to the feel of their fists foolishly pounding on his being.

If he were the way he was before he had revived himself, he wouldn't have been so upset—he would have slashed down the slum people and walked away as though nothing happened. But now, he was weaker, and couldn't hold back his emotions so well.

He still fought with the powerful sort of grace he's always had, and within a minute, the battle was over.

Sephiroth's eyes swept over the scene quickly, counting the corpses…fourteen.

Only fourteen…one escaped, he thought, sheathing the Masamune. I won't bother going after the surviving slum rat. They are all worthless, anyway… He sighed and turned around, one foot on the first step of Seventh Heaven's wooden front porch, staring up at the front door. Well…perhaps not all of them? Wait a minute, what am I thinking? Of course all of them are useless…every last one of them. He ascended up the small set of wooden stairs, approaching the front door, and sighed. So why am I trying to tell myself differently?

Before Sephiroth could even put his hand on the dented doorknob, multiple gunshots that sounded like they were from a machine gun broke the eerie silence…and hit him in the back.

He turned around quickly, then ground his teeth together. SOLDIER…all right, can I have a break sometime soon? Sephiroth thought.

"Word travels fast, I see," he said, glaring down at the few members of Shinra's elite fighting force as he drew the Masamune again. Only a couple of the SOLDIERs ceased fire. "Enjoy your last moments of life, rats…"

Not wanting to fight again, he dragged the tip of the Masamune's blade along the wood of the porch, then swung it upwards in the way a golfer hitting a golf ball would swing a club. A blaze of magic fire shot out, turning the members of SOLDIER to ash before they had time to think.

Sheathing the Masamune for the last time that day, Sephiroth sighed, slightly aggravated with himself. For a moment, he felt some remorse—

(They have families, don't they?)

—But the remorse quickly vanished as he turned around and finally pushed the door open. He'd seen the look on those SOLDIER's faces…it was that same look he despised.

Tifa had been cooking lunch for herself, completely oblivious to the battle going on outside. The silver-haired man limped over to the counter, grinding his teeth. The bullets didn't bother him as much as they would bother a normal human being—after all, he was still alive, after being shot well over ten times. Even so, he was beginning to feel slightly faint.

His captive glanced over at him, and Sephiroth stared at her, forcing her to make eye contact.

He knew Tifa was the sort of people-loving person that would feel sympathy for anyone…even him. And he could see it in her eyes.

After being given that look he hated for the past five minutes, her sympathy was strangely welcomed. There was fear in her eyes; of course there was…but a strange sense of caring, too. And Sephiroth welcomed that…and that bugged him.

"Sephiroth…" Tifa started.

"I'm fine," he snapped irritably, standing up so quickly that had he been in a chair, the chair would have been knocked over, but he had seated himself in a stool. He put a hand to his forehead, grimacing slightly. "I think I'm going to go rest now. Come."

Tifa hesitated, unsure why he wanted her to follow, but did so anyway. She was already in a lot of trouble—she didn't want to add on to that. As she followed behind him, her eyes widened slightly at the sight of all of Sephiroth's gun-induced wounds…but he said nothing, and neither would she.

I think he might have weakened…maybe I can strike back now, she thought as they entered his bedroom, and was ready to strike when Sephiroth simply climbed onto his bed and stared at her tiredly.

"…I do not have the energy to tie you down to night. I trust you will not run away again? After all…SOLDIER came after me, which means, your punishment tomorrow will be worse than it would have been for just running away." He spoke from a strained voice that strongly suggested the pain he was in.

"I know," Tifa mumbled under her breath, tensing slightly. As soon as he looked the other way…

Sephiroth sat up. "One last thing…"

Tifa waited for him to say something…but he only collapsed.

"Sephiroth?" Tifa said, slightly surprised. Cautiously, she walked up to the side of the bed and prodded his shoulder. He did nothing. She gawked, amazed that the Great Sephiroth had just…fainted.

I guess he's in a lot of pain though…serves him right, the damn bastard, she thought, and was all ready to leave now and let him die, but…somehow, it just didn't feel right. After all, Sephiroth was human, and she wasn't so sure she had it in her to abandon a potentially dying person any more.

Holy, I'm weak, Tifa thought, sighing. But he's weak, too, and getting weaker, it looks like. But after what he did…oh, I should just leave him to die! I should just leave him! Why can't I just leave him!

She sighed again, trying to decide what the best way to bandage him would be.

Yumesuta: Okay, not the best chapter, and it was mostly about Sephiroth this time. I hope you all enjoyed it anyway! Review please, or you'll have to wait even longer for the next chapter!