A/N: I feel at this point I ought to mention that more of this story is up on AO3. At least double what is here but I struggle greatly with formatting, as I do all my writing on my phone in Google docs. It's no a voluntary choice, simply something that runs in tangent with how much time I have. Reformatting everything to for ffn is much harder than reformatting everything to for AO3. It has also been brought to my attention that there are aspects of this story that stray from ',M' to 'E', particularly in upcoming chapters. So if this story should suddenly disappear here, please be reassured it is on AO3 and in my Drive. Lastly, the ff7 community is much smaller than it was maybe six years ago, so I know traffic to this particular piece will not be significant, particularly here .There has been somewhat of an uptick of ff7 on AO3 in the past 3 years, so if I feel there is no point keeping this here, I will remove it. I have been pretty sick, so my updates have been slow but I'm slowly getting back on my feet. Thank you for your patience

Kalm was a place Sephiroth would rather forget.

It was a common place for SOLDIER rendezvous, but neither he nor Genesis were 'low priority' enough to warrant an order out to the nearest town to Midgar. From what he'd gathered listening to 2nds reminisce, the citizenry was aloof but not unfriendly; having no particularly negative or positive opinions of Shinra in general. Cadets spoke often of the jovial innkeeper and pub owner, both of whom were paid handsomely for their accommodations. Otherwise, the populace was reputed to leave SOLDIER well alone, save for the occasional gaggle of passing tourists or female admirers.

No, Sephiroth's negative response to the town was his and his alone; set aloft on the wings of a black memory from years before. A crimson recollection of pain and disorientation...of the mid-square tower ghosting across his vision as he was dragged below it. There was little else to go on but that memory was enough to fill him with a single-minded sense of revulsion. He was as fond of Kalm as he was of Hojo's laboratory; the only difference being he wasn't entirely sure why.

The city itself was mostly nondescript and centered around its industry. Cobblestone streets passed under jettied wood and stone homes, many of which were dark and still at the late hour they arrived. Kalm wasn't particularly known for its fondness for architecture. Most of the city's organic needs were shipped in, not unlike Midgar. Adverse to its Southern neighbor, the mining town put little emphasis on technology. The majority of Kalm was community-centric... somewhat rustic, and had been for many years. Mining wasn't a rich livelihood, and the people made up for it with close family values and group-oriented thinking.

The entrance to the town was guarded by a sleepy-looking watchman who glanced at their truck and directed them to what looked like an exterior parking lot. In a raspy voice indicative of little rest, it was explained to them that vehicles fared poorly on the rough cobblestone streets. Bidding their guide a good-night, they began a leisurely trek to the inn. The weather was cool but not enough to be unpleasant, certainly not to someone with mako in their system. Here and there were scattered remnants of the day before; a loose bit of the local paper, a vendor's tent pole propped precariously at the entrance to an alleyway. A solitary lamplighter offered them a weary sort of nod before continuing on his way.

"Strange, isn't it?" Genesis remarked, fiddling with his tabard.

"Hm?"

"We put such an emphasis on tech in Midgar, but then there's places like this that don't even use electric street lights."

"Electricity is still used to power structural interiors" Sephiroth replied, glancing down the yawning mouth of an empty side street. "Kalm puts a great emphasis on the preservation of its history, and tourists enjoy the... throwback, so-to-speak."

"Seems pointless" was the somewhat haughty reply. "All that effort to stay antiquated."

Before them, the road opened up to reveal the town square and Sephiroth paused as a slow, insidious, but familiar shiver passed over him. There was the soft rustle of leather as Genesis turned to look back at him; a sliver of moonlight passing through the overpowering loom of the central tower to alight on scarlet hair...like fire on a mercurial horizon. Lunar brilliance traversed the landscape of a single sapphire iris; plunging the rest of his friend's visage into shadowy darkness. Sephiroth was filled with a sense of foreboding that was at once repellent and alluring...ethereal and yet cruel in a way that was both pitiably fragile and staggeringly vicious.

"-ou coming?"

Genesis' tone was even, his stance non-threatening; but Sephiroth could sense the apprehensive tension in his limbs. It was the careful entreaty SOLDIER approached him with whenever he did something 'out-of-character' or alarming. He was accosted with a terrible sense of self-imposed claustrophobia; of the long-ingrained idea that he was somehow monstrously different. At once, he wanted to throw Genesis across Kalm for treating him like an animal-directive in regards to his actions be damned-or crawl away into some forgotten hole where no one would find him. Gritting his teeth, Sephiroth forced himself to be in the present…to not dwell on vague and distant recollections from his youth that were not in tangent with their mission.

"...What?"

Genesis cocked his head, a shadow of shrewd observation ghosting across his features before disappearing as if it was never there.

"I asked if you were coming" he said calmly, his tone betraying nothing of his thoughts on the matter. "I've heard the innkeeper is less than kind about late arrivals."

Glancing at the sky, Sephiroth estimated it to be well past 0130, at the same time forcing himself to move forward in synchronicity with his thoughts.

"I reckon we're well past the hour of his benevolence" he replied, keeping his tone deliberately bland as he brushed past his Commander.

They passed under the tower in silence, each wrapped up in his own thoughts. Sephiroth was disgusted with himself for succumbing to weakness in front of a fellow SOLDIER, and subsequently even more disgusted with himself for caring about it. He was used to having a bird's eye view of his emotional well-being; coordinating his thoughts and feelings in a way that was efficient but distant. Barely stopping himself from worrying his leather gloves, Sephiroth grudgingly acceded to the possibility that Hojo had been right about his 'belated hormonal anomaly.' He wasn't able to give it much more thought, however, as they'd reached the door to the inn and Genesis had raised his hand to knock.

The innkeeper was indeed displeased to see them at such a late hour, but upon hearing their rank and names quickly warmed to the idea of their presence. They were given an apologetic repast of soup and bread and shown to their room with very little fuss. The space itself was acceptably sized and nondescript, with two twin beds parallel to each other on either side of a large nightstand. The view out the window gave them a magnificent vantage point of the tower but Genesis-sensing perhaps more than he'd let on-hastily drew the curtains before disappearing into the bathroom to shower. Sephiroth placed his rucksack in the closet next to the door and set about the tedious task of unbuckling his boots, outer armor, and removing his gloves and jacket. The culmination of his efforts would leave him in his pants, and he was content to spend the night as such.

He heard rather than saw Genesis return to the room and pause, a soft intake of breath reaching his ears before it died out and was gone. A series of loud thumps indicated his second in command had thrown his belongings under his bed as per usual.

"We have very little time for rest" Sephiroth said tonelessly, pulling his coverlets back. "Our boat leaves early."

Genesis didn't deign to reply immediately, and he watched as the red headed SOLDIER pulled a shirt out of his bag and yanked it over his head in a world-weary sort of way before sitting down on the edge of the bed closest to Sephiroth, his expression somewhat wary.

"You know, you can talk to me, if you want" he said calmly.

Poised to pull a comb from his rucksack, the General paused, irritation traversing his features before he was able to stop it.

"I'm not sure I follow you" he replied, resuming his task and gathering the ends of his hair so he could begin working up.

"Gaia, do you comb your entire head every night?!" Genesis demanded, seemingly momentarily distracted.

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow.

"...Yes?"

He startled somewhat as deft fingers plucked the comb from his grasp, forced to watch as his Commander disposed of it in the wastebasket and bent over to pull his duffel from under the bed, muttering to himself.

"As much as I'm loathe to admit it, I actually did need that" Sephiroth said blithely.

"And I'm not spending my night listening to you comb out that monstrosity" Genesis snapped, yanking a large brush from his bag and marching towards him with a look of singularly evil purpose. "Turn around."

"I'm not-"

"-Fucking hell" the redhead growled, sitting down on the mattress and taking a long strand of silver hair without preamble. "Fine. Just sit still and don't kill me." Sephiroth blinked in confusion as his friend began a stubborn but surprisingly gentle vendetta against a days' worth of tangles. "I don't understand why you don't own a brush."

"I never considered the comb inadequate" he said flatly, wincing as an irritated tug sent prickles across his scalp. "This is wildly inappropriate."

Genesis snorted.

"Why? Because you outrank me?"

Sephiroth closed his eyes as long fingers raked through strands of hair, separating it with an ease that was both professional and familiar.

"I...am not supposed to engage in frivolous physical contact."

There was a stretch of silence as Genesis' hands faltered; a long, low intake of breath the only indication the other man had heard.

"...So you're not allowed to sleep with anyone" was the tight response.

The silver-haired man swallowed thickly, aware of the risk he was taking by disclosing such information. Genesis could very well use his celibacy against him, though to what end he wasn't quite sure. SOLDIERS seemed to take great pride in their sexual escapades, at any rate. As far as he was concerned, the fact he'd never 'gotten laid' was enough to make him incredibly strange...let alone the fact that he was different in so many other facets of existence.

"No."

"...You've never-?"

" -No."

Genesis hands shook slightly as he continued his task despite such a revelation. Sephiroth could almost sense the amount of tension in the air, though what emotion it was tied to he couldn't really say. It took considerably less time to work the knots out of his hair with aid then alone, perhaps ten minutes or so. By the time his second-in-command moved to the final strand, he was fairly sure he'd managed to throw himself under the bus. Hojo's incessant, hissing reminders to keep as normal a persona as possible were slowly creeping to the forefront of his brain. By the time Genesis set the brush down he was very close to outwardly panicking, something neither of them needed. Still, even with his task completed, the redhead didn't move away; instead he placed a hand on Sephiroth's knee and squeezed lightly.

"We-Angeal and I-we were...given protocols on what to do should you lose control, but I'm assuming you know that already." The silver-haired man made a noise of affirmation, his voice caught in his throat. "Neither of us were ever told why, but it doesn't really matter to either of us...you're still one of us. A SOLDIER, I mean, regardless of where you come from. Nobody seems to know a lot about you" was the muttered statement. "None of us do, I guess that's why so many people admire you."

"I didn't ask for it" he replied bitterly, and Genesis smiled in a way that looked somewhat painful.

"Yeah, I know. I always had a hard time understanding why you didn't carry your notoriety as a point of pride, but I get it. It's not something you want, and it's not something you can get away from." Sephiroth nodded mutely, unwilling to show anymore weakness than he already had. Genesis sighed and looked away. "Why did you agree to take up the mission again? You're obviously not comfortable with it, and it's not like anyone could really force you to participate."

Faced with a question he couldn't answer with a shake of his head, Sephiroth cleared his throat.

"I...realized that the circumstances of my initial rejection were emotionally charged and not professionally based."

"Yeah, I get that, but you still didn't have to do this."

Feeling a frown tug at his lips, the General carefully schooled his features.

"It's my duty to provide what Shinra requests, whether it be paperwork or fieldwork...and it's not my place to decide whether or not I want to participate."

His companion still looked skeptical, but wisely changed topics.

"I'm not going to pretend I understand what you might be going through...with whatever Hojo said is happening. I get that you don't want to talk about it, but if you did, I want you to know that I'm not going to use it against you." The redhead worried a stray thread hanging from the cuff of his uniform, his face pensive. "My...my father, he was distant, cold." His companion screwed up his face, as if such a confession pained him. "I always did well academically, but it wasn't good enough unless I acted as smart as I really was...and that just wasn't in my character-"

"-You don't have to tell me this-" the General cut in, only to be quickly overrode.

"-It's called reciprocation, Seph" Genesis snapped. "And I want to tell you, so shut up and listen. I was in trouble constantly for not fitting into this preconceived mold he'd so carefully laid out, even when I was doing well on my own. I let it bother me as a kid, because what little boy doesn't want their father's approval? But as I got older it mattered less." A red-leather hand reached up to tug idly at the decorative piercing hanging from his ear. "My mother was materialistic...obsessed with aesthetic and little else. We were never close, but that didn't particularly matter. She never made much of an effort to begin with." Pearlescent eye teeth bit into the rubicund flesh of a lower lip. "I...can't imagine not choosing my own way, and I get that you've never really had to option, but you can still have your own individuality and if you need my help finding that, I'm not opposed to it."

The analytical part of Sephiroth's mind acknowledged that acquiescing to his friend's offer would likely do him quite a bit of good. He was unduly stressed and experiencing a level of emotional vulnerability he'd never experienced, and Genesis was certainly an emotional individual. The Trauma pamphlets HR liked to hand around encouraged SOLDIERs to speak with each other about upsetting experiences or feelings, as having a larger mentality than your own could be therapeutic. However, deeper ingrained were the teachings he had learned in the lab; 'keep your mouth shut and your head straight forward, don't ask questions, don't show weakness or fear. Don't assume anyone is your friend, SOLDIERs are out to surpass their betters in any way possible, don't think you aren't disposable, don't make tactical errors and don't make a mockery of the responsibility Shinra has placed on your head. Remember that everything you have earned can be taken away.'

"I appreciate your offer" Sephiroth said flatly. "Good night, Commander."

To his credit, Genesis hid the disappointment that crossed his features well, settling behind a mask of indifference with ease. Still, it wasn't enough that Sephiroth missed it, and he cursed the equally sympathetic part of himself that felt terrible for rejecting the olive branch extended to him. Angeal would be sorely disappointed; perhaps even surprised as it was usually the other member of their duo who was constantly fighting against an easy camaraderie. He couldn't imagine what it had cost Genesis to reach out to him in the ways of pride, and the frigidity of his response made him nauseous...to the point where he couldn't meet the other man's gaze. It was therefore somewhat of a surprise when an affectionate hand was run through his hair, lingering somewhat at the nape of his neck before drawing it to the side and over his shoulder; presumably so he wouldn't snap his neck when trying to lay down.

"Get some sleep" Genesis said quietly, rising to cross over to his side of the room. "Keep the brush" he added over his shoulder. "'I offer thee this silent sacrifice.'"

Later, as the slow, deep breaths of his sleeping comrade filled the room, Sephiroth gazed at the dark ceiling and wondered if he was gradually coming undone. It was such a frivolous, illogical consideration he immediately concluded that that was indeed what must be happening. Upon apprehending the mercenaries, he would return to HQ and request a full evaluation. It was what was expected of him, and it was heavily stipulated that failing to do so could have serious consequences. Still, as he fell into unconsciousness, Sephiroth acknowledged that being privy to such emotions made it easier to understand those around him. And if he dreamed that night for the first time in his life; of a woman with dark eyes and hair as long as his own whispering apology after apology across what seemed like endless time and space….he told no one.

Because even if he should cease to dream again...he knew those tearful mea culpas were his...and his alone.

Feir Benlet was waiting for them by the time they got down to the docks.

He had the look of a man who'd spent the majority of his life on or near the ocean; with skin like dried fruit, hands as knobbly as the rigging he worked, and eyes like the black center of a tempest...sparkling out from under a beard that even Sephiroth was almost envious of. He offered little in the way of pleasantries, something the General could sincerely appreciate, though Genesis appeared somewhat discomfited when several attempts at idle conversation were rebuffed with single-word responses. Like the waters he navigated, it appeared Feir preferred to keep his secrets to himself, no matter how charming or witty the conversant. Sephiroth settled himself at the bow, and once his social ventures proved themselves truly useless, his second-in-command took possession of the prow; leaning forwards to peer into aquamarine depths.

The ship itself was simple but beautiful, of barquentine design and obviously well-kept. It appeared that it was used mainly for ferrying people back and forth across the straight; the cabin they were given as a courtesy had a guest list and several photos of what must have been frequent local travellers over the course of several years. Feir was a permanent resident on his own vessel apparently; the captain's quarters had a plaque with his name and credentials over them, along with assorted seafaring memorabilia. Despite not being overly social, it was obvious the man was very well-loved within the circles he associated with. Staring at what appeared to be several generations of vacationing families in the main passageway leading to the upper deck, Sephiroth couldn't help but feel a bit envious...and somewhat lost. Despite his obvious conversational setbacks, the man they were sailing with had still managed to gather a large amount of loyal set him apart from everyone else was obviously more complex than his inability to understand or be understood. Once the thought crossed his mind he was equally disheartened by his now apparently rampant ability to feel self-pity.

The seas around the straits were typically calm, with barely a cloud to ruffle their passage. After some apparent deliberation, Genesis climbed one of the masts and disappeared into the cloud of sails above them, humming something under his breath. Sephiroth contented himself with his post on the deck, staring out at the flashing array of aqueous expanse before them. Feir kept his position at the wheel, occasionally glancing at the sun with a practiced reverence. It was clear the man had a great respect for the ocean, and somehow Sephiroth felt better for it. As they made their way North, the weather grew somewhat cooler and the seas rougher. The spray that leapt up to hiss across the decking was flecked with foam and slightly more acrid. Throughout their journey they passed no other ships, but this wasn't particularly unusual. Most civilians couldn't afford a standard truck or car, let alone a seafaring vessel. Maritime activities were considered a luxury one paid for, not something one possessed.

Eventually Genesis descended from the rigging and handed Sephiroth several protein bars and two bottles of water. The redhead attempted to indulge their captain but was rebuffed yet again. They ate in silence, watching as the coast of the Northernmost continent loomed before them; the shore made eerie by the late afternoon sun. Several thin trails of smoke indicated the location of Bone Village, grey tendrils of dissipating fuel soaring into the sky before being snatched away by the wind. Sephiroth knew for a fact that the village itself was more of an archeological dig site; the residents there were mostly of academic backgrounds...some of whom had decided to settle. Word from the area was scarce, and it was rumored that the community was somewhat cult-like. Thankfully, there was no evidence of the inhabitants having violent tendencies...not that it would have mattered much in the face of two Firsts.

It was near dark by the time they came into port...what little could be considered a port anyway. It was more of an inlet with one or two rickety looking skiffs that appeared to have seen better days. Flanked on three sides by tall, forbidding cliffs, it made for a foreboding sight. There were no lights leading inland; only a single slightly overgrown trail that curved between two large boulders and disappeared into the thorny undergrowth. Perhaps two miles inland Sephiroth could hear the sounds of pedestrian activity, echoing over high ridges to fall on his mako-enhanced ears. The distant ambience was peaceful, like the murmur of a brook just out of sight on the end of a forest track. Genesis was handing gil over to Feir, voicing words of thanks enough for the both of them. Sephiroth spared the man a nod, which the sailor returned with a quiet sort of understanding in his eyes. He would spend the night in a cove a few miles South and then return to Kalm the following morning. They were encouraged to reach Bone Village before night truly fell, as the area they were in was rife with nocturnal predators. Neither bothered to point out that it would be better if all manner of wildlife simply stay away from them, not the other way around.

The duo didn't stay to watch the ship sail away, preferring to take to the path and make haste to the village. The brambles were sharp and cutting, but they soon passed through a crevasse that led them sharply upwards onto the tops of the cliffs they had observed earlier. Here the path wended in a constantly curving 'S' pattern until it dropped away steeply; opening up onto an enclosed valley that glowed eerily in the very late twilight. Bone Village was-Sephiroth observed-very aptly named; with structures that were one part stone, another wood, and another the remains of some monstrous behemoth from times long gone past. Torches and floodlights blazed from empty ocular and sinus sockets like so many trapped auras, tarps and assorted linens made dwellings out of prehistoric rib cages. Groups of four to six people sat or stood about low-burning fires made mostly of peat moss.

The terrain itself was marshy and smelled strongly of clay, with an abundance of sedges and reeds. The edge of the valley was lined with a few willows whose wispy branches hung as if overburdened by more than their own weight; mottled trunks giving way to soggy, tepid soil. It was in its own way beautiful; the reflection of the merging of two wildly different climates in a semi permanent zone. They were given a few curious looks by the locals, but no one stopped to question them as they descended into the village and then down again to the massive 'rib tent'; this time on a ladder. A despondent looking chocobo raised its head, giving them a woeful stare and earning Genesis' worried tongue clucking before Sephiroth cuffed the back of his head in exasperation.

"That is not how you keep a chocobo" the redhead hissed.

"That is not our problem, Genesis."

"It's too cold here Seph! Chocobos aren't built for this terrain!"

"Maybe his owner fashioned him some boots."

"Oh, ha ha…. fine time for you to grow a sense of humor."

By the time they reached the small visitor's outpost on the furthermost side of the...whatever the thing was's spine; Genesis was practically shouting about how chocobos ought to have civilian rights because they really were nearly sentient; Sephiroth desperately wanted to knock him out with Masamune, but the memory of his friend's kindness the night before stayed his hand. A gift shop two ribs down sold novelty caramels and he was not ashamed to admit that he bought almost the entire stock in the hopes it would glue his Commander's mouth shut.

They were allowed a small section of land just inside the door for a few gil, and Sephiroth busied himself with gathering local news while Genesis knelt down to retrieve their sleeping bags. Glancing back, the silver-haired man faltered as he watched his friend draw the brush he had given him out of his pack and place it on his sleeping bag with an expression that spoke volumes more than he had ever cared to know. It was an indulgent, warm expression...the kind he had been told over and over to avoid in his youth. Sapphire eyes caught his and Genesis raised an eyebrow in confusion, his mouth morphing into the smallest of frowns. Sephiroth was accosted by the thought that it was the prettiest mouth he'd ever seen.

And while he would've like to have said he walked away from the situation like it was nothing, such a statement would be untrue.

He fled.