A biting wind ripped through the streets of Junon, scattering civilians back into their residences and tall anonymous buildings. The occasional scrap of rubbish danced along the black roads marked garishly with pointless-seeming yellow numbers and letters. As the huge lift doors opened and the wind screamed in through the widening gap, Sephiroth was reminded why he hated the town with such passion.
It was dismal, dreary and depressing; with no use but as an outpost for ShinRa and as one of the only ports near Midgar, Junon had been forced into anonymity with regulation architecture unblemished by any kind of decoration or individuality aside from signs singling out businesses or directing travellers further into the bowels of the town. Dogs snapped and snarled on the end of chains as the SOLDIER contingent passed, their anger the only noise to disturb the silence of the empty streets.
Stupid mangy pests, thought Sephiroth, resisting the urge to kick the nearest in its skinny ribs. And over it all towered Sister Ray, the largest monument to ShinRa domination ever built.
The short walk down the levels of Junon to the dock seemed terribly long, Sephiroth's inherent discomfort in the town heightened by the tacit presence of Genesis by his side, neither talking but acting as solemn, intimidating figureheads for the men they led and for the benefit of any interested civilians.
The procession continued through the streets as swiftly as possible, aiming to reach the boat earlier than scheduled to allow for the loading of their vehicles and equipment as well as to allow the men to settle into their shared cabins for the journey. Sephiroth and Genesis, as first-class SOLDIERs and the leaders of the expedition, had been allocated individual cabins apart from the rest of the men but close to each other; whoever thought up that idea should be shot, thought Sephiroth angrily, yet the idea also kindled that persistent flame in his stomach.
Oh,
for the love of the Lifestream, what is wrong with me?!
"Sephiroth!"
The
voice called him back to his present surroundings, the utilitarian
buildings blinking back into focus. He turned at Genesis' call and
realised that in his brooding anger he had strode ahead of the
others. Slowing his pace to allow them to catch up, he chided himself
silently. This is
really getting to me...
"Sorry," he said shortly to Genesis, not making eye contact. "I want to be away from here."
Genesis smiled faintly. "What exactly do you have against Junon? It's... attractive, in its own way."
Sephiroth snorted contemptuously. "It's ugly, and you know it." He paused as they continued walking. "There's something about it that I just don't like. It feels..." He paused, searching for the right word. "...restricting."
As an answer Genesis inclined his head in agreement and they walked the rest of the way to the docks in silence. The ship that waited for them was as faceless as the port, grey and brown metal with no adornment but a serial number and the ShinRa logo splashed proudly across the bow. The open cargo door, already admitting crates of weapons and provisions looked uncomfortably akin to a gaping mouth as the two SOLDIERs passed inside, giving orders to the men to assist with the loading.
Sephiroth suppressed a shudder as he followed Genesis up a flight of salt-flecked steel stairs, through the sleeping level and up onto the damp cold deck. At the front of the ship was a large glass dome, not round but made of angular panes, where the helm and bridge were located; behind that was a storage area open to the sky where crates of non-essential goods were being strapped down. Overlooking this was a wooden stage accessed by a flight of sturdy wooden stairs, and diagonally across and behind that was another stage, this one a little taller and square rather than rectangular, from which the whole deck and surrounding area could be seen.
It was to this platform that Sephiroth followed Genesis now, trying not to watch the redhead lithely scale the ladder too noticeably before climbing up himself. Genesis moved across to the side of the stage opposite the ladder, and turning his back on Sephiroth leaned on the metal rail that capped the ship's side.
At a loss for the moment, Sephiroth stared at his back for a long heartbeat and then turned to supervise the loading of the crates. They stayed like that for a while, both sensing the other at their back but not daring to turn, conscious that they would be visible to anyone standing outside a five metre radius of the platform, until a crewman appeared at the platform's edge with the news that preparation was complete.
Sephiroth inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Thank you for your hard work. Tell the captain to set sail as soon as possible."
The sailor nodded nervously in acquiescence and disappeared from view. Soon the deck became a hive of activity, white-uniformed sailors scrabbling and scuttling across the metal floor with frenzied but purposeful movements.
Before long, the engines roared to life and the docks of Junon began first to slide past them and then to recede into the distance. As they drew further away, Sephiroth sighed unconsciously in relief and leaned against the backward-facing rail.
"Glad to be away then?"
Sephiroth half-turned to see Genesis leaning against the side of the ship, back to the sea and one leg stretched out in front of him on the wooden floor, watching him with a mildly amused expression. Sephiroth smiled and turned back to watch the hateful town float away.
"Definitely," he said happily. "Can't you feel the difference in atmosphere already?"
Genesis swung and joined him on the rail, so close that their arms almost touched. Sephiroth looked down at the red leather sleeve and slowly traced it upwards with his eyes, past the silver and black shoulder guards and then to the flame red hair swaying in the wind.
His eyes were concealed by the fall of his fringe, but as Sephiroth watched him he tilted his gaze upwards to reveal his features, and hesitantly turned those aquamarine eyes on the silver-haired SOLDIER.
The force of his gaze seemed to knock the breath from Sephiroth and kicked his heart into fluttering faster and faster. His mouth was suddenly dry, his palms wet, and he could do nothing to fight back against the bittersweet emotions besieging him through Genesis' gaze.
He did not realise they were ever so slowly moving closer to each other until the wind blew his long hair over his face and broke the moment; when he had cleared the obstruction, Genesis had leaned away again and was watching the foaming wake of the ship once more.
"What is happening to us...?" he mused, so quietly that Sephiroth only caught the nuances of the words. He did not reply immediately, but moved his gaze back to the fading view of Junon.
"I don't know," he said in a whisper after a long pause. Genesis glanced at him swiftly before turning away again with an odd expression on his face. Sephiroth sighed ever so softly before he spoke again. "But I... don't think I want it to stop."
His words hung in the air, refusing to be blown away like smoke before the insistent sea wind. The same wind spread Sephiroth's long silver hair like a gleaming cape and the strands brushed Genesis' back like caressing fingers, a ghostly embrace.
Though he must have felt it, Genesis made no move to stop the touch, even when one of the strands flicked over his shoulder and lay trapped against his throat.
Carefully, making the action seem perfectly natural, he raised a hand and lightly stroked the silver length. As though talking to it, he lifted it to his lowered lips and softly murmured three words.
"It's not enough."
The words, and the truth behind them, struck Sephiroth like a physical blow, and he could do nothing but watch wordlessly as Genesis gracefully freed himself and descended out of sight down the ladder.
Sephiroth watched him stride away through the bustle on deck and the mournful cry of a seabird wheeling overhead echoed his inner voice. In that desolate moment, he wished more than anything else to be able to fly away with the sound - an extract from Genesis' obsession, LOVELESS, sprang to his mind and stuck for hours afterwards;
'My
friend, do you fly away now?
To a world that abhors you and I?
All
that awaits is a sombre morrow
No matter where the winds may
blow."
