"C'mon, Re, quit being so dramatic," I huff, his weight nearly crushing me as he leans my way more than Rude's. He woke up on the ride back and refused to let Rude carry him to the infirmary, insisting that he couldn't wound his pride any more than he already had.

"Ain't bein' dramatic," he snaps, eyes screwed shut as he takes another painful step.

"Yeah, okay."

"He is leaving a trail," Rude remarks, glancing over his shoulder at the line of muddy, occasionally bloody, skid marks that lead to us.

"Whose side are you on?" I demand, struggling to keep Reno upright with my own injuries to deal with.

"Lucky I was there to take the hits for ya," Reno drawls sleepily, grimacing as Rude tugs on his arm. I scoff.

"You picked on the wrong guy, Re. Not my fault."

"Couldn't hit the girl."

"But you did."

"Yeah." He laughs to himself, wincing. "Only cuz she hit you first."

"Gee, thanks."

"No problem, babe."

One of the many Shinra doctors around us finally gestures for us to enter his office, finally letting Reno lay on something other than me. The doctor sighs, straightening his lab coat and helping Reno lie flat on his back before pressing his stethoscope to the redhead's chest. I stand back, arms crossed and slumping against the wall to give my legs a break. Reno flinches when the cold metal touches his skin, groaning and squeezing his eyes shut.

"Do I even want to know?" the doctor asks, stepping back to scribble something down on a sheet of paper. "You look like shit, but at least your heart's still beating."

"Got roughed up in a fight," Reno mumbles.

"I can see that." He shoots his patient a stern look. "Were you alone?"

"No, Rude 'n Kat…"

"A rude cat?"

"No," I laugh, shaking my head. I wince, feeling a sharp pain in my side where Tifa got me good. "His name's Rude and mine's Kat."

"Ah, okay." He stands, forcing Reno to sit up. "Sorry, sir, I'm going to need to get a better look at your wounds." Huffing a short laugh, he glances up at us. "Apologies, but you have to leave now. I hear Reno of the Turks tends to surprise the medical personnel by going commando."

"Why doesn't that surprise me," I sigh, forcing myself off the wall and heading outside.

"Freeing," is all Reno gets out.

"Looks like shit," I comment, watching Rude close the door. He nods. "Does he usually get that beat up?"

"This is something of a unique situation."

"Sure."

I sink to the floor, letting my head loll back against the wall but refusing to fall asleep. I have to know he's okay before that. Not that he looks like he's on his death bed, but if he's gonna be stuck here, he might get a little looney. I jump when the door the Reno's room opens and the doctor steps outside.

"He okay?"

"Yes. He's asleep." He nods down the hallway toward the next open room. "Go see if Marx will take you. You're looking in a bad way yourself."

"Not as bad as him."

"Well, bad nonetheless."

Sighing, I raise an arm and wave my hand around until Rude catches my drift and pulls me onto my feet. Marx… Why is that name familiar? I head a few doors down, knocking on the open door. A man with a tight ponytail and a bushy beard turns around, raising an eyebrow over his gray eyes. Time feels frozen as I stare hard at him, breath caught in my chest. He looks me up and down with an equal look of surprise. My heart skips a beat. Why can't I remember why I…? The man, Marx, shakes his head, gesturing for me to entire his office.

"Rude, I—" I stammer, shaking my head. I'm overwhelmed with panic I can't explain, backing out of the doorway until I hit my friend. Rude shakes his head and nudges me further in.

"Are you alright?" the man asks. I swallow the lump in my throat and nod, slowly heading toward the examination table.

"Uh, y-yeah."

"Okay…" He presses his lips together, sizing Rude up before turning to me. "My name is Tyler. Do you need assistance?"

"Doctor few doors down sent her," Rude explains, frowning when I don't answer for myself. I'm too busy wiping off my sweaty palms and trying to control my breaths. What's happening?

"I see." He wanders closer. "I can handle this from here, sir."

Rude nods, and with one final glance in my direction, he leaves me alone. Tyler heads closer to me clipboard in hand as he eyes me. I refuse to meet his eyes, awkwardly shifting on top of that unbearably crinkly paper.

"Are you alright?" he repeats.

"Yeah. Just… Give me a potion or something and I should be okay."

"Hm." He chuckles, shaking his head. "Afraid I have to take some vitals first, Kat." I frown, my head jerking upward to look at him.

"How do you know my name?"

"You, uh…" He shakes his head, pulling his stethoscope off his neck. "You're the newest Turk, right?" I flinch when he reaches toward me, the words flowing out before I can stop them.

"Don't touch me."

"I'm sorry."

"Just don't."

"I have to. If you'll just take a deep breath and—"

"No." I press my lips together. "Call me crazy but… I don't like you." Ouch, okay. Couldn't have said that another way? Somehow, he understands, scowling and stepping back. A bitter smile overtakes his face and he shakes his head.

"Of course. Your body never forgets when your mind might."

"What?" I frown, scooting further away from him. "I don't think we've ever met." He scratches at his beard, eyes now cold when they meet mine.

"Good. That means the dosage worked."

"Excuse me? Dosage of what?"

"How long has it been since the last one?" he murmurs to himself, crossing the room and pulling a stapled pair of papers through the cabinet before pressing his finger to a spot on a page. "Four, maybe five, years now? You're due for the third." He glances up at me, eyes alight with curiosity only a scientist could possess. "Fascinating. The effects fade so gradually."

"What is?" I demand, anxious and irritable. "Are those about me?!"

"I'm afraid I can't disclose that information." He puts his hands in the pockets of his coat and shrugs one shoulder. "You went from not knowing me at all years ago to having a vague recognition-reaction. The human brain really is fantastic, don't you think?"

"I swear to Shiva…" I stand, on edge. "If you don't tell me what you're talking about—"

"You'll do what, shoot me? I don't think your uncle would take too kindly to that." I sigh, frustrated. "Sit down. I'll explain." He's taunting me. Still, I obey, left with little choice.

"Talk."

"Do you ever feel as though you can't quite remember something the right way?"

"I guess. Doesn't everyone?"

"Not large chunks of information, though?"

"What do you mean?"

"Kat, where were you between the ages of thirteen and fifteen?"

"I—" I frown, staring hard at the wall. Nothing. There's always been nothing. I smell the slightest hint of smoke, but that might just be my anxious habits kicking in and begging for nicotine.

"Exactly." His face splits into a smile and he shakes his head. "Fascinating. Anyway, you can thank me for that."

"What?"

"Ah-ah-ah," he admonishes. "Stay seated. Before you get too heated, you should be thanking me. You were suffering."

"How?" I snap, hugging my arms to my body uncertainly. "I don't understand."

"Just relax. I'll take those vitals and tell you more if you do."

"I don't know if I can."

"Try." He stands, nudging my chin upward with his finger. My breath catches and I obey quickly so that he doesn't have to touch me any longer. "Deep breaths. Where was I? Oh, right, suffering. See, there's a reason people remember you as a maniac here."

"The boy I shot—"

"Not quite. You didn't remember then, either. But it's on the right track. That temper of yours isn't just from the color of your hair." He pushes me forward and presses the stethoscope to my back. "Are you a smoker?"

"Sometimes, why?"

"I can hear it."

"My temper?"

"Right. It's more than that. I won't give you details or I'd be fired by someone you'd least expect, though. All I can say is that as long as you're not hearing voices, you should be alright."

"Voices?"

"Deeper breaths, please."

"Tyler, what do you mean by—"

"And tell me if you start having vivid memories," he adds. "I know you want to remember, but once you do, you'll remember why you wanted to forget. It's more than memories, Kat. You become a different person."

He steps away to take a few notes. I chew on my lip, processing all the information he just gave me. Despite how willing he is to give me information, I can't help but hate his presence. Something about his touch made my blood boil. You become a different person.

"You want me to tell you so that you can make me forget?" I ask, my voice quiet.

"Well, yes. It erases a world of hurt—for everyone."

"… What did you do to me?" I dare to demand, glaring up at him. He pauses, taking a deep breath.

"Bad things, I admit. However, I'm trying to right my wrongs and get a little research done at the same time. I've always had a fascination with psychology."

"What bad things?"

"I can't say. I don't want to spark an early reaction."

"Don't wanna spoil your results?" I huff bitterly. He tips the end of his pen toward me.

"Bingo."

"Can I leave now?"

"Without your potion?"

I catch the bottle he tosses toward me and uncap it, giving it a good look for any suspicious particles. Tyler shakes his head with a scoff and I roll my eyes before downing the bottle's contents. I stand, dropping the glass vial in the trash can before opening the door.

"Don't forget to let me know if you have any symptoms!" he calls after me, voice cut off when I slam his door shut behind me. Rude glances up from where he sits on the bench in the hall raising an eyebrow.

"What happened?" he asks. I shake my head, standing before him and crossing my arms.

"Do you know anything about him?"

"Not even his name. Why?"

"Rude, you read all about me, right?" I sit beside him, resting my head in my hands. "He said… he erased my memories to keep me sane because I'm really someone else. That the effects last five years and that I might get everything back but it'll be bad." I glance up at him and he stares dead ahead, leaning forward and pressing his elbows into his thighs. "Is that true?"

"… I don't know anything about him, Kat. Only about you."

"Tell me what he means, then?" I plead. He shakes his head once. "… Is it that bad?"

"The past doesn't matter when you're here." He stands. "Reno asked to see you."

"He's awake again?" I frown, getting to my feet. Huffing, I kick at the wall weakly. "But I'm not done being angry…"

"Are you angry?"

"I don't even know." Sighing, I shake my head. "Yeah, let's go see him."

Rude opens the door, waiting for me to enter to the room before closing it behind himself. Reno scowls up at us, shirtless and covered in bandages. The doctor glances up from his computer across the room. I can't help but smile at my friend, coming over to crouch down to his level at his bedside.

"Stuck in bed?"

"Fuck off," Reno scoffs, rolling his eyes. "I'll be up 'n at 'em in no time."

"I'm sure you will be." When he continues to frown, I poke at his cheek, sticking my tongue out when he makes a face. "You'll get 'em next time, Re Re."

"Damn right I will." He forces himself to sit upright with a grimace, clutching the bloody gauze on his side. "Tell Tseng I ain't stayin' here overnight."

"You can't walk," I argue, standing.

"I know," he groans, pressing his back to the wall. His eyebrows twitch together as he wrestles to hide his pain.

"Well, the good news is, he was, in fact, wearing underwear today," the doctor breaks in, standing. "And also that he'll make a full recovery within a few days, as predicted."

"I'm not staying—"

"You're staying until you're better," I interrupt sternly, ruffling his hair. My stomach growls loudly and Reno cracks a smile.

"Me too."

"Yeah? I have to go rescue my sandwich from my office."

"Why you got food in your office this late?" Reno huffs, closing his eyes and resting his head on his shoulder. "You shouldn't even be here."

"Where else am I gonna go?" I argue. It was meant to be a joke, but reality hits harder than I expected. My apartment's gone. The entire section of the city I've lived in for years, gone just like that, and by my own doing. Reno takes a deep breath, glancing up at Rude. They exchange silent words before he looks at me.

"Could stay with Rude. I'd let you in my place, but I don't have to key on me."

"Where is it?"

"In my office. And it's locked."

"And where's that key?"

"Hell if I know."

"Okay…" I turn to Rude and he raises an eyebrow. "Well, do you care if I crash on your couch until I get my shit together?"

"No."

"Be careful, though. He's a neat freak." Reno laughs to himself, tapping the top of his head. "Not that you couldn't tell by lookin' at him."

"Oh, trust me, I know." I turn back to Rude. "Thank you. I'm still getting that sandwich, though."

"Better get goin', Sweetheart." Reno reaches out and bats at my arm, the only part of me he can reach. Smiling, I give his hand a squeeze and head out the door.

I slump against the wall of the elevator, exhausted, and close my eyes. The ride feels excruciatingly long from the lower floors to the higher ones—I guess that makes sense. The Shinra Building has dozens of floors, and I don't even know what most of them are. The doors ding as they slide open and I catch sight of Tseng on the way to my office. I try to ignore my instant anger at his actions earlier and lift my hand in a half-hearted wave. I expect him to nod back, but instead, he walks toward me, following me to my office.

"I assume you checked in on Reno."

"Yeah. He's doing alright. Bitter than he's on bed rest." I pull open my door and unwrap my peanut butter sandwich, taking a big bite. Then I frown, leaning against the edge of my desk. "Tseng… I just met this guy… Name's Tyler Marx."

"Yes?" Tseng raises an eyebrow. I roll my eyes, staring hard at him in an effort to break him.

"There are very few people in this world that know we're related, Tseng. Who the hell is he?"

"I knew this would happen," he sighs, tugging his gloves off his hands. "What did he tell you?"

"That he erased my memories. Told me that if I start to remember anything that changes my personality, I should let him know and he'll erase them again." I raise an eyebrow, unafraid to attack him now that the truth is out. "What does he mean by that? What's so wrong with me that that's necessary?"

"There are many things you don't kn—"

"Well, yeah, clearly!" I throw my arms out to the side, irritated. "Tseng, I don't know why, but I hate his guts and I can't recall three whole years of my life!" I take a bite of my sandwich and talk around it. "And I didn't even realize until now…"

"You weren't supposed to realize."

"What, you're in on this now?!"

"… Do you regret anything?" he asks. I scowl.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I suppose not." He shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed. "Some part of me wishes you could to suffer for what you've done."

"What did I do?" I demand, suddenly not very hungry. With a huff, I rewrap my food for later. "And if it's so bad, why the hell am I here?"

"Because I'm doing a favor for her," he snaps, glaring. I frown back, turning my eyes to the door. "Not for you."

"Since when do you owe my mother anything?"

"My sister had final wishes and I intend to honor them."

"You hated her."

"Don't confuse your feelings for mine," he retorts, heading toward the door. "Clearly you can't remember things correctly."

"I know the first part!" I shout after him. "But I don't know why I—"

"Let it be," he interrupts, closing the door behind him.

I scoff, mocking him under my breath. Asshole. Jamming my hands in my pockets, I decide to take a walk around the building to cool off. Acts like he's so damn innocent. If he wants to honor my mother's last wishes, he should have started a long time ago instead of letting me struggle for my life in the slums for so long. He worshipped her—I remember that much. I scoff, shaking my head and staring up at the ceiling. Worshipped a fucking whore. Not even sure which kids were actually my father's. Not even sure if he's really my father.

"Fucking bullshit," I mutter to myself.

"Most people consider talking to oneself a sign of underlying psychological damage," a calm voice says back. I jump, looking down from the ceiling to see Rufus Shinra crossing my path, followed by a sleek, black guard dog. "I like to think differently."

"Maybe that just means you're in denial," I reply, jerking my head toward the muscly creature. "Who's this?" It flashes its enormous fangs, yawning.

"Dark Nation," he replies, keeping his voice low as if it might soothe the beast. In fact, I think it does. Nodding, I crouch down, extending a hand to let it sniff. Its hair stands up on its back, but its nose quivers at the scent of my skin.

"Never knew you liked animals," I admit, rubbing between the canine's tall, pointed ears.

"I don't dislike them. I have a preference for this one in particular."

"Makes sense." I stand, offering a half-hearted smile and praying that he doesn't count jokes as disrespect. "I can't imagine the great Rufus Shinra snuggling puppies and kittens in his free time." Rufus hums in response, hiding his amusement well.

"Have you met the demonic creature Rude keeps in his quarters?" I shake my head, frowning.

"Demonic?" I gasp, checking the time. "Shit. Gotta get downstairs."

"Talking to yourself again?" Rufus asks, motioning for Dark Nation to follow him. I smile sheepishly and shrug, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Old habits die hard. See ya, sir."

As I head off in the opposite direction to get some rest on Rude's couch, I could swear I see a hint of a smile on the vice president's face.