Disclaimer: Many characters belong to Square Enix, as well as many of the place names.

Remember: This story is basically a fanfiction of a fanfiction, based on "Ame ni Matte" by Lily Silver. The story design and set-up is based around that story. Also, her original characters used in this are Lorna Relson and Marshal Gray will be mentioned here and there. I recommend reading her story, for it is very good, and mine would make much more sense if you did.

Ok, guys, this is my first shot at a story, and the only way to get better is to practice. Please, stick with me, and I will do my best to make this story entertaining.

-------------

Chapter 7: Memories

Metal tubes and bins lined the walls of room 407 in the ShinRa labs. What was showing of the concrete walls was painted a dull grey. Two small windows were in the top of the wall across from the door. On the other side of them was a bleak scene of brownish-grey rooftops. The floor was made up of speckled, vinyl tiles, and they stretched to meet rubber framework at the bottom of the four walls. In one of the corners, the rubber was peeling away, showing a bit of bare cement. A machine in the opposite corner whirred steadily as the screen showed a heart monitor. A beep sounded every time the line broke into a jagged representation of a heart-beat. A thin wire came out of the side. It ran across the floor, and curved up again to the top of a metal table.

On the table, there was a thin mattress, if it could even be called that. It crinkled every time the subject moved. 5-3-A sat on the uncomfortable mattress. Her knees were curled up to her chest, and her hands had a firm grip on her ankles. Under her fingers, a leather strap bound her feet to the table. Dark red abrasions on her wrists showed that they often suffered the same fate.

A piece of surgical tape held a sensor on 5-3-A's back. The wire that was inserted into it barely brushed against the subject's skin, and it was cold, but that didn't bother her. Nothing did. She had no irritability, or any other emotion for that matter. Her eyes never shone; she never smiled, never frowned. The grey irises (half hidden by brown, tousled hair) were dull and looked as if they were glazed over. Her eyelids blinked only by reflex, and they never closed for sleep.

The subject's shoulders rose and fell steadily with her breathing. Her right thumb twitched slightly with every beep from the monitor. Through the window, it was possible to see that the sun was rising. In a few more hours, it would all start again, same as always.

All day, white-coated men came and left. 5-3-A sat on the table passively as the scientists poked and prodded her, injected her with strange colored fluids, and scribbled notes on clipboards. At noon, a cart was rolled in. On it: a bowl of tasteless soup, and a glass of water. The subject didn't bother to pick up the spoon, and drank down the depressing meal. In the afternoon, the tests carried on as usual.

It was beginning to get dark outside, and the room became less and less crowded. There was only one person left when the door opened to let a new man in. He shut the door behind him, and strode over to the table where 5-3-A was sitting silently, as she always did. The man walked around so he was facing the subject's front, and leaned in to her face.

5-3-A stared into the man's eyes, unmoving, as if she hadn't even noticed him. A greasy stand of the man's hair hung in front of her and quivered every time she exhaled. She twitched as a hand reached up to pat her cheek. The man forced a smile, and turned away.

"There is a special surprise in store for you tomorrow," the man said, turning his head back over his shoulder to look at the girl. His voice was almost as greasy as his hair, and his somewhat hunched back didn't help his appearance at all.

"So everything will move along as planned, Hojo, sir?" the scientist that was standing back finally spoke up.

"Of course," Hojo spat. "There have been no problems...no unexpected changes in the research."

"Yes, sir," The scientist said. He nodded and turned to the monitor, flicking switches, and setting it for the night. Hojo gave the subject a crooked smile before leaving the room.

Still unmoving, 5-3-A sat as the scientist strapped her ankles to the table, packed his clipboard into a small briefcase, and left the room. There was a click as the door was locked. Her thumb went back to twitching as the long hours of the night slowly ticked by. At one point, a moth flew against the window. 5-3-A's eyes darted towards it then flicked back to staring forward.

The new day finally arrived. The scientist poked the subject, as usual, injected her with the colored fluids, as usual, and her lunch came and went, as usual. There was nothing 'special' about that day, nothing special at all. Not until she was handed a blue pill. The scientist that seemed to be in charge that day told her to swallow it. Without hesitation, the pill was popped into her mouth, and slid down her throat. It wasn't even twenty minutes before 5-3-A was unconscious. There wasn't any time to spare, as the effects of the pill lasted just long enough to perform the operation, so the scientists set to work.

The pill finally wore off, and 5-3-A regained consciousness. There was a throbbing in her head and throat, and she desperately wanted to clasp her palm to her temples. She made desperate attempts, but her wrists were bound down. Something felt very strange. She didn't know what was going on, or why she was feeling such uncomfortable sensations in her body. She had never felt pain before. Her breathing sped up, and her heart rated shot up wildly. The monitor in the corner bleeped and whined in hysterics. Frantically, scientists rushed to her, holding her shoulders against the table and trying to calm her down. Someone stood by with a sedative injection, just in case. As she thrashed against the grips of the men, the needle was pointed at her thigh. Seeing it, she shut her eyes, and on impulse, opened her mouth and yelled, "NO!"

The man with the needle jumped back, and everyone froze. Ripping her hands out of the loosened restraints, she curled up and hugged her legs to her chest. A new sensation took her as warm tears rolled down her cheeks. She didn't stop screaming, "NO! NO! NO! NO!" until the door flung open. Suddenly, the white coats surrounded her, and all of the scientists began yelling at someone to get out.

Nothing more was done to 5-3-A that evening. The scientist in charge of locking up, looked sadly at the girl's trembling form, and then shut the door. The room was swallowed in shadow. The subject looked around at the four walls. Never before had she noticed it, but they seemed to be mocking her, telling her that she was trapped. A wave of fear washed over her. Her pupils shrunk dramatically, and everything became hard to see. The beeping in the corner seemed louder than ever. It hurt her head. Clamping her hands to her ears, she sobbed into her knees, begging for the morning to come again.

That didn't do any good. The tests went on as they always had. Although, this time, every time a needle touched the subject's skin, it sent searing pain through her arm. No matter how loud she yelled, they wouldn't stop. She even went as far as wrenching the syringe out of one of the scientists' hands, and throwing it across the room so it shattered against the monitor in the corner. That resulted in having her arms strapped down, and being sedated.

At the end of the day, 5-3-A's wrists were let loose again. She sat up and watched the last guy walk around the room, turning things off and whatnot. Her eyes followed his every move. Just as he was heading for the door, she spoke. "What is all this?" she asked, her voice hoarse from yelling all day.

The scientist looked back at her. His eyes were soft and comforting. In her head, 5-3-A told herself that it was all a trick. He was never a nice man, none of them were. "Well," he started uncomfortably. He looked away from the subject to the tubes and bins on the walls. "It's a laboratory." He opened the door.

"Wait!" 5-3-A yelled after him, but the door was shut and locked. A lab. All she was to these men was a test subject. They didn't care how much it hurt her. They didn't care about what she felt. Not as long as they were getting paid. They probably had families to feed. She wondered if their families knew what kind of work they did, and what they would say if they found out.

5-3-A didn't cry that night. The beeping of the monitor echoed in her head, but she didn't cover her ears. There was no use. She wasn't ever getting away from it, so she might as well get used to it. Day ad night passed on in this manner. She returned to being passive most of the time. Hopeless and weak. On occasion, she would yell from pain, but that was it. She didn't talk anymore than that.

One night, not everybody left. Three scientists stayed behind as the rest went home. They waited until it was dark, and then undid her ankle restraints. They helped her off the table. When her feet hit the floor, she was surprised at how cold it was on her bare feet. Her legs were shaky, not used to holding any weight. She looked up at one of the scientists, demanding to know what they were doing.

"You're going for a walk," one of the men explained. "That's all. So, just relax."

The scientists led 5-3-A to the door. On instinct, her legs moved. She never knew she could walk. A weird feeling, one she hadn't experienced yet, flooded her. The corners of her mouth turned up, and she smiled for the first time. Walking made her feel a spark of freedom that she never knew she had. They walked in procession down the hallway. For every door they passed, the girl tried to look through the slit of a window. All of them were dark inside, so she couldn't tell what was behind them.

They were nearing the end of the hallway, when something caught the subject's eye. One of the windows in one of the doors was slightly lighter than the others. That was due to a window in that room, but she didn't know that. She turned her head to look inside, and saw someone sitting on a small bed. The boy inside turned his head so he was looking in the direction of the door. His long, silver hair glided over his shoulders as he did that. But the strangest thing was the bright green eyes that the girl could see, even in the dark. Bright green eyes, with slits for pupils, and a skin tingling, cold glare.

Hana's eyes snapped open and almost screamed when she was greeted by a pair of bright green eyes. But, she soon noticed, they belonged to Kadaj, who stood over her, poking her shoulder impatiently.

"C'mon! Get up, you!" Kadaj said impatiently. "You were whining and carrying on in your sleep about some beeping or something. It was getting really annoying."

Hana sat up, pushing Kadaj out of the way, and rubbed her eyes. She was relieved to know that it had all been a dream (at least, that's what she thought). "What time is it?" she asked groggily.

"Close to noon."

Hana looked up to see who had spoken. Yazoo was standing in the doorway. She couldn't look him in the eye, not after seeing him in a dream like that. She nodded as thanks.

Yazoo noticed Hana's strange behavior, but dismissed it as a bad morning. He watched as Kadaj grabbed Hana's wrist and pulled her outside to play. The ever present jealousy pulled at him again, but it faded quickly, and he went to go find Loz.

-----------

End note: A background from Hana's point of view...just thought I needed to develop the plot a bit more. Please review!