A/N: I know... This has taken ages. Literally. No chapter of this story was ever as delayed as this one. For those who wonder why, let me just say that I had major difficulties balancing work (70%) and studies (60 to 70 %). In addition, some details in this chapter were just impossible to get right. Guess it was the first time that I did not only rewrite certain passages (the opening, for example) once or twice, but three times or more... And do you know the worst part of it? I still feel like I should do another draft. Speaking about infinite editing...

Ok, the new chapter. Don't expect too much action yet. Basically, it's 'angsty fluff, part II' or 'angsty fluff with an added deeper dimension'. I needed to answer a few questions, and raise about a ton more ;) Oh, and it's a tad longer than usual (about 1000 words over my 'normal' word count). Originally, I wanted to shorten it, yet you waited long enough, so I thought you were in for a treat... (which I hope it is).

At some point, this chapter plays with a story/theme taken from the realm of Arthurian Legends (actually, it's older than that and an independent tale, but it was integrated into the 'larger' myth, and most people know it as part of that). Although the world of FFVII resembles our own quite a lot, I am aware that it is also very different. Therefore, I'm actually hesitant to include historical or mythological details that are obviously tied to our world (e.g. by setting) into my stories. This is one of the few exceptions, which can – by the way – even be tied to canon: In FFVII, you can obtain a summon called "Knights of the Round", which is (at least visually) based on the myth of King Arthur. I took the liberty to adapt one tiny detail to make a possible connection to my story-setting, but all other details are based on actual versions of the legend (yes, the sword-part, too). And although I'm not giving any names here, I'm sure everyone knows who the protagonists are (if not, you'll get a hint at the very end of this chapter).

Warning: Ahm... None, I guess. Though it looks like I might have needed one for a short moment...

Finally, the dedication:

First of all, this goes to everyone out there who was patiently waiting for this chapter during the last weeks, especially to those who inquired about my progress every now and then, or (subtly) reminded me that they were looking forward to an update. You know who you are, and I know that every single one of you is amazing.

And second, due to a certain detail in this chapter, this just HAD TO go to a very dear friend of mine, not only an incredibly talented author and a constant inspiration, but also a real FFnet celebrity: the one and only Amarissia.

My dearest

Looking at it rationally, I still can't believe that you even bothered replying to me over a year ago. Yet again, I'm incredibly happy that you did. I fondly remember all the great conversations we had, not only about our shared fandom, but also about legends, traditions, Pagan beliefs, writing in general and countless other topics.

So here it is, your little virtual birthday present. Hope you enjoy... at least a bit :)

~°oOo°~

A dream?

Well, I don't know... What's a dream anyway? Those images we see at night when we are asleep? Those goals and ambitions we have, knowing that we might never reach them? A fantasy, not supposed to be real? A message from our subconscious? A premonition?

And what exactly do people mean by saying 'it's a dream come true'? Isn't that a paradox, because can't happen, or a worst-case-scenario, because having no dreams equals nothing to strive for? Maybe it's just a try to describe the feeling of 'this is too good to be true'. Maybe it's believing in the impossible. Or maybe it's just that one perfect moment...

He chose not to dwell on the thought. There was something more intriguing that required his attention, a feeling that was almost graspable, surrounding him like a warm soft blanket. For a second, the sheer perfection of that emotion became so unreal he was almost certain he would wake up any minute and realize it was only a dream. However, this state only lasted for a second, before a gentle movement, a light touch reminded him that it was real, that this was actually happing.

Not a word had broken the silence after the last meaningful statement, but sometimes words weren't necessary at all. Almost coyly, Genesis had rested his head on Angeal's shoulder, and Angeal had placed his left arm around him in a similarly hesitant, careful manner as if he had halfway expected some sort of protest. Another moment later, he had started to run his hand over Genesis' hair in a slow, repetitive movement, perceivable, but at the same time so light that one hardly knew it existed, a gesture one could feel without actually feeling it.

Genesis had leaned into the familiar touch almost immediately. It was familiar indeed, because Angeal had been using that very same gesture for years whenever he was in a playful mood or felt the need to comfort his best friend. Yet at the same time, Genesis wondered why something he should be so used to caused this strange sensation of warmth spreading through his entire body like ripples on a water surface, and why he could feel the echoes of this touch down to his toes and fingertips. His left hand rested on Angeal's chest, as if he needed a bond to reality, however subtle, something to keep him grounded within this mood of weightless perfection. Despite the fact that they were dating for quite a while now, moments like this had been far too rare.

Then suddenly, Genesis half-closed eyes fluttered open again. Part of him instantly registered the subtle change in the quality of light, the way it had become paler, greyer, indicating that even though it had appeared differently just minutes ago, the time still moved in its regular pattern. Goddess, how late is it?

Genesis had been quiet for so long that Angeal had suspected he had fallen asleep. Listening to his calm, steady breathing had been strangely hypnotic, so he had drifted into a state close to dreaming himself, until an almost unperceivable twitch broke that spell. And he knew with a surprising clarity what would be the consequence of this. Something he didn't want to happen. Not now. Not this time.

The words had been on his mind so many times before, implied in so many gestures and careful hints. Genesis, however, had chosen to ignore these nonverbal signs every single time, for a reason Angeal was not aware of. Was he even sure such a reason existed? Or was he simply afraid to find out? You can't lose if you don't try, but you can't win either... So finally, he decided to break the silence that had fallen around them; and even though it was a mere whisper, it still felt like running a knife through a veil of silk. "Stay here tonight."

At first, there was no reaction other than a slight widening of those bright blue eyes. Genesis held the glance for one more moment, before he moved away and turned on his back. His left hand followed that movement, and maybe to counter the expected yet unpleasant feeling of loss, Angeal caught it midway to lightly hold it in his own, like a captured bird that could be hurt far too easily by a tighter grasp.

In a firmer tone, he added: "No hidden intentions, I promise."

Genesis only sighed softly, and then returned surprisingly calm: "We are dating, and I guess that means you are entitled to a few 'hidden intentions'."

Although this was unexpected, Angeal still felt the need to stand his ground. "Even if... there is still a huge difference between thoughts and actions." He waited for a moment, just to make sure that Genesis showed no intention to reply, before he asked: "So what are you worried about?"

Exactly. What am I worried about? Why am I worried at all? "Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't want to, but I… " He paused, and decided to end the sentence differently. "But right here and now, I just don't feel like it."

"Sounds like a simple case of misunderstanding. What exactly is it that you don't feel like? Staying here, or playing along with any hidden intentions I might have? One does not necessarily imply the other, you know."

"Doesn't it?" For a moment, Genesis looked at him again, this time with genuine surprise in his eyes.

No way... He can't actually think that I only asked him to stay because I had second thoughts... But on the other hand, is he so wrong if he does? Who am I fooling here?

For a moment, neither of them spoke, and Angeal concentrated on tracing the form of Genesis' hand with his fingers. He hadn't withdrawn it yet, so that was a good sign, wasn't it? Encouraged, he raised his glance again to meet Genesis', before he voiced a seemingly simple question: "Do you trust me?"

For a second, those words felt surprisingly much like a slap in the face, yet Genesis tried his best not to show just how off guard it had caught him. This very question was one of the pillars of their friendship, and whenever it came up, there was just one possible reply, fixed like a line in the unchangeable script of destiny. Unless... No. Don't even think about it. Besides, who don't you trust here? Him, or you?

Angeal watched Genesis' eyes darken, like the room around them, slowly but inevitably. At first, he felt almost hurt that it took Genesis that long to answer, but then it dawned on him that maybe it hadn't been the best idea to raise this question in the first place. He doesn't have much of a choice now. Sticking with the rules of the game, he is supposed to answer with 'yes', which also implies that he has to stay, just to prove the point. Returning a 'no' for the first time ever would be nothing less than attacking the very base of our friendship, refusing to acknowledge the point I made earlier. He had to admit that Genesis was standing with his back against the wall now, a situation he usually didn't take well and exactly what Angeal had vowed to avoid. He wasn't a manipulative person, but right now he felt like one, and it wasn't a good feeling. Brilliant move. So much for not pressuring him into anything...

But the damage was done. The only thing he could possibly do now was to come up with something that would take the edge off it, something that would get them back on firm ground, anything... His glance drifted past Genesis' face in deep concentration, and from the corner of his eye, he vaguely recognized a shape next to the door, and the very sight of it tied to some information stored in the back of his mind before he even realized it. It's not a genius move, but worth a shot...

As casually as possible, and without even a trace of the guilt he secretly felt, he announced: "Well, in case you don't, we can still put that in the middle of the bed." He nodded towards the door, and with a small movement of curiosity, Genesis instantly turned his head.

It was obvious what Angeal had been talking about, because befitting the plain design of his quarters, even his bedroom didn't display anything that would qualify as decoration. The wall opposite the bed was virtually empty, besides a large weapon leaning to it, a possession Angeal valued over everything else, because it was a tie to all those things he treasured deeply.

"Are you kidding me? I'm not sleeping next to that… thing." Despite a still present tension, Genesis' voice carried a tiny hint of amusement.

"Careful, that 'thing' represents my family's honour, after all."

Genesis tilted his head. "Is this a case of 'I'd give my honour to protect yours'? Like in those..." He stopped, and Angeal could basically see how he made the connection only then, in that very moment. It was like letting go of a kite, unsure what would happen as the wind seemed weak and the technique applied far from perfect, but then watching it drift weightlessly towards the sky. No matter how often it happened that either of them was able to get what the other wanted to say from the tiniest hints, sometimes even without the use of actual words, it was still fascinating.

"Like in those old tales," he finished the sentence on Genesis' behalf. Like in that one tale, more precisely.

And again, Genesis caught the drift. In a very soft and melodious tone that almost resembled singing, he cited: "All the harpers laboured on their agonies of passion; unfulfilled and ever straining like lodestones to the North."

Again, this was something going back as far as their childhood, to the times where they had both developed a fascination for old tales and legends, especially heroic ones. This specific tale had not been one of their absolute favourites, yet it had held a certain, unexplainable fascination, especially for Genesis with his liking for anything tragic and sad. In addition, some people claimed there existed a connection to their native country, as the island kingdom mentioned in the beginning, the birthplace of the female protagonist, was said to be the isle of Mideel.

To cut a long story short, it was the old tale of a young warrior falling in love with a beautiful woman. Yet unfortunately, the object of his desire was already promised to another man, who happened to be a mighty king and the younger one's liege, in some more tragic versions of the story even his uncle and 'substitute father'. The couple tries to fight their feelings, but eventually doesn't succeed. A triangle relationship ensues, until the betrayed husband discovers the truth. The consequences of this immense breach of trust and the exact details of the story existed in countless versions, but usually resulted in the tragic death of the young man, or - more commonly - of both lovers.

"I'm actually surprised that you remembered the part with putting the sword in the middle of the bed. It's not a main event, and most versions of the tale don't even mention it."

"Maybe it left a certain impression..."

"Well, I'm sure of that." Genesis had changed his position from lying into something that seemed like the casual version of sitting. "However, if you intended to make a connection between literature and real life, it might not be the best example. Do you know that putting a sword between two people is an old symbol? It can imply anything from cutting an existing bond to having no further interest in the other person. And even if you look at it in terms of the story, it doesn't mean what you might think it does..."

"So?" Angeal rolled over to be able to look up at him. The situation reminded him of the time when they had still been children, discussing one of their favourite stories while sitting together on a bed much smaller than this one.

"Oh, there exist two versions of this little episode with the sword, and neither is actually meant to be a proof of trustworthiness between the two lovers. The addressee of the message is not a private person, but the general public. In other words, it is not him telling her 'Don't worry, I won't touch you', it's him declaring to the outside world 'Look everybody, I didn't touch her.'"

"I like my version better."

Genesis showed him an affectionate smile. "I can't believe I'm saying this, because I'm not the one to criticise an epic tale, but I think if the male protagonist had been thinking a bit more like you, the story would have ended differently."

Mirroring the smile, Angeal decided to continue the conversation. "By the way, you said there were two versions. What's the difference?"

"The difference is that one version is slightly more ironic than the other. Or slightly less honourable, whatever you want to call it. In one case, they really just sleep in the same bed, and nothing else happens. In the other, they do more than just that, and he puts the sword there in the morning so that everyone thinks they didn't."

"Really? I definitely don't remember that part... That will teach me. Next time I'm trying to impress you with something borrowed from literature, I'll study the source material more intensely."

Genesis chuckled. "Oh, I'm always open for alternative interpretations. Besides... who says you need to impress me?" With a fluent movement, he reached out with one hand and playfully touched a strand of Angeal's hair, before brushing it back as if to study his face in more detail. "I'd say what I see is already impressive enough." His glance was captivating, and those bright blue eyes seemed to shine as if illuminated by some inner light source. It definitely wasn't just the typical Mako effect, or at least not only. After a moment though, the eyes were cast down. "Well, it surely is a complicated story..."

The one we were just talking about, or our own? "I guess it's one of those stories you don't fully understand when you're a child. Looking back as an adult, you suddenly realize that you missed a core dimension. As for this one... back then, I didn't really get the romance part of it."

"You were more focused on the honour dimension, weren't you?" It was more a profound insight than a question.

"Indeed. I couldn't understand why a knight would betray his king and all his ideals, just because of a woman..."

"Would you be surprised if I told you that this was what impressed me most?" Genesis still didn't look up.

"That someone would give up his honour for the person he loves?"

For some reason, Genesis did not choose to answer directly. "Some people say that this is what sealed their fates, or his at least. If you lose your honour, the only way to redeem it is death. They say he was not a good knight for putting her above everything else, and ignore that it must be a tough choice between something you believe in and someone you believe, between two vows you made with the same intention to keep, not knowing that due to a twist of fate, those seemingly totally different levels would be in conflict one day."

"Still, I always thought he should have tried harder to solve the conflict. Or to avoid it in the first place. "

Again, Genesis did seemingly not reply, but raised a counter question: "Do you remember why they fall in love in the first place?"

"Isn't that one of those questions you can't really answer? Like in real life?"

Genesis shook his head, before he quoted again: "All who've heard the telling know that blind and bitter Fates placed to cup of love's sweet poison to unconsenting lips." He smiled again, but it was one of those half-smiles that didn't really affect his eyes.

"To be honest, I never really liked that part. It makes their love look like a tragic accident, an underserved curse. And honestly, a poison that takes away you ability to think straight... what's the point in that?"

"You know, such details are not to be taken literally, but as a symbol."

"A symbol for what?"

The fact that they were doomed from the start. Star-crossed lovers. "The fact that love is not a free decision, never was. It's fate."

"I never thought about it this way... However, I don't agree." Is that what you really think? That we never had a choice in the first place either? Of course there is this strange connection that I made my first move when we were both completely drunk, that I might never have confessed my feelings for you if it hadn't been for that situation... Still, it didn't start because of it. I loved you way before that. Although he was pretty sure that Genesis might have been thinking in exactly that direction, it was an unspoken agreement between them not to mention the events of that very blurry night. Therefore, Angeal decided to stay with the subject matter of the story. It seemed safer that way. "Think about it. Even if we accept that they fall for each other only because of that poison, the most common version of the story states this was only the beginning. Later, they decide to continue with their relationship out of free will. And even in the other version where the effect is permanent, neither of them ever starts looking for a cure. So in the end, the story points out that even though love might be accidental in the beginning, in the long run it's a choice."

He sat up, feeling the need to be on the same level with Genesis, face to face, eye to eye. Without even noticing, he had reached out to take both of Genesis' hands in his own, to hold them tightly as if to underline his words. Genesis looked at him, quietly, yet with an honest interest and an intensity that made Angeal's thoughts spin for a moment. Despite that, the words came out surprisingly clear: "I know that this here is my choice, Gen. And that it's yours whether you want to stay or not."

Genesis lowered his glance and took a deep breath. "This must sound very odd now, but I still feel like saying it: Sorry, I really shouldn't act that stupid; and sorry, I should know that I can trust you no matter what, but… Maybe I'm just not the person you deserve, and - "

Right there, Angeal felt the need to interrupt him. Gently tilting up Genesis' face, he returned: "Before you try to overanalyze what I deserve and what you might be doing wrong, maybe you should consider simply asking me, don't you think? As a matter of fact, there is no such thing as a standard expectation you need to fulfil, not in my book. Therefore, any given aspect of this relationship is your choice just as much as it is mine. Either you want, or you don't; and whatever you decide, I'll accept it. You know that, don't you?"

Genesis just looked back at him for a moment, and his eyes had turned into the sapphire blue version of an enigma. There were so many mixed emotions in them that Angeal could not foretell at all what the answer would be, until Genesis finally voiced a single, soft syllable: "Ok." Another heartbeat later, he added in a casual tone: "And since I just decided to stay, I should better change into something more appropriate. A reduced standard uniform is not the most comfortable outfit to sleep in."

With a single, fluent movement, Genesis turned and got up from the bed. A few weightless steps later he reached the door and hit the light switch for the other room, but instead of leaving, he turned around again and leaned lightly against the door frame. Angeal could have sword it was a calculated pose, too flawless to be coincidental, yet the almost shy smile didn't seem to go with it. Far too innocent to be flirty. The light flowing gently over his features made Genesis look even more beautiful, almost unearthly, ethereal. Like an afterthought, yet something that was too important to be forgotten, he announced: "Of course I do."

Only later, Angeal realized that he had no idea whether this final sentence had been an acknowledgement of his last statement, or the traditional reply to the question of trust raised in the beginning. And the more he thought about it, the more certain he became that it wasn't essentially the same thing...

~°oOo°~

The large room in the vaults of the Shinra Headquarters was dark and silent. The air smelled of old paper and dampness, so that any visitor instantly expected an old library, complete with huge velum-bound folios, layers of dust and cobwebs. That, however, was a misleading impression. Instead, the room contained a maze made out filing cabinets, huge grey metal devices that upon closer inspection appeared surprisingly spotless and well maintained.

Most employees would not even have known that Shinra still bothered having a traditional registry. Computer files made everything so much easier. They could be accessed, edited and deleted from virtually anywhere, and a detailed system of access codes made sure that no one got information that was above one's clearance level. Seemingly perfect, yet someone in the executive board had once foreseen that computer systems were not immune to failure, just like the human being operating them. Therefore, a small office within the huge machinery that was the Shinra Company still filed actual paper versions of all important reports. Tedious, but a huge advantage in case the main server would crash one day. And in case one needed information...

The intruder moved carefully between the huge filing cabinets, using his flashlight to read the labels on them. Even though he had pulled a lot of strings to get access to this place, he knew that looking for the desired information between those piles of paper was less risky than trying to hack the computer system. Said system had been programmed by experts to register every tiny breach of security, so the chances of accessing restricted information and not getting caught while doing so were close to zero. But that of course just meant that you had to come up with a better plan. And it looked like he had just found it... True, there had been a cost, but he forced himself not to think about it. Now, he needed to focus only on the task at hand.

~°oOo°~

So here I am. Looking into yet another mirror. Genesis studied his face briefly in the reflective surface. For a second, he almost expected to find it changed, to see a stranger staring back at him. No, not exactly a stranger... more like a long-forgotten acquaintance. But thankfully, nothing happened. Therefore, he risked another glance, more careful, calculating, almost anxious, trying to find out what someone else might see looking at those features. Someone... Angeal.

There wasn't a trace of blood left on his face, but his eyes seemed darker tonight, like deep bottomless wells. Slowly, he ran a hand through his hair. Am I... good enough? It was a question he had asked himself a lot of times before, yet never with that desperate urgency. And of course that cold rational voice that existed only in the back of his mind had to point that out to him: Honestly, you are not making any sense here... You don't want anything to happen, do you? Yet here you are, worrying about somehow not looking attractive enough.

Genesis sighed, before he took a step back to get a better look on the rest of his body in the much too small bathroom mirror. Despite the fact that most of it was covered by an oversized t-shirt – Angeal's, to be precise – he felt strangely undressed. He could have gone upstairs easily to get his own stuff, yet this had felt strangely impossible, because he just knew that once he would leave this room, a cold rationality would set in. Thinking. And he didn't want to think. Sweet Gaia, he was thinking far too much lately...

If he chose not to dwell on it, the whole situation felt more or less like one of those sleepovers at Angeal's place when they had been children. Innocent. Safe. Nothing unusual. Why are you worried about something that is only normal? In a double sense, nonetheless. Normal, because you can't even count how many times you two slept in the same bed before, and normal, because that is what couples do. So just get over it, will you?

When he returned to the main room, he found Angeal scanning through a row of booklets on his shelf. All of them official Shinra publications, nothing exciting... not the literature at least. Watching Angeal for a moment in silence, an odd feeling of possessiveness took hold of him. Bridging the distance between them was a matter of seconds, and a few steps, and pulling Angeal into a close embrace wasn't much more effort either. "Are you pretending not to wait for me?" To say it wasn't teasing would have been a lie.

Acting on the spur of the moment, Angeal tried to pay him back in kind. "Good to see that some things definitely don't change. The amount of time you spent in the bathroom is still..."

"Oh, shut up!" He underlined his words by a playful shove, which Angeal countered immediately.

Due to Genesis' immediate reaction, which was a lot faster than Angeal had expected, he missed. It had to be the smile Genesis showed him just a second later, triumphant, challenging, maybe a tad smug, that finally turned their half-hearted shoving match into a proper little fight, undecided for a long time, until Angeal finally managed to get the upper hand by performing a manoeuvre that came as close to a headlock as he could allow himself in a first and foremost playful competition. Obviously knowing when he had lost, Genesis stopped fighting back immediately. Although it hadn't exactly been a challenge, he was breathing a bit faster than usual, and for a second, Angeal felt somehow guilty. It's only hours ago... Do you want to give him another nosebleed?

This second of hesitation was obviously what Genesis had bargained for. Realizing that Angeal had led his guard down for just a moment, he used the situation for his advantage and threw himself against his opponent, which was enough to make Angeal stumble and fall backwards onto the bed. In the last moment, however, he managed to get hold of Genesis and pull him down as well. The whole scene reminded amusingly much of an episode from almost ten year ago, when they had found out the hard way that Angeal's bed wasn't as stable as it looked, and the memory was enough to make them both laugh almost hysterically for a moment. When the laughter had died down, Angeal found himself stuck halfway in the process of trying to get up, while still looking at Genesis.

Genesis just returned the glance. The bright smile and those lightly flushed cheeks were too much to resist... Angeal leaned forwards in a single, seemingly effortless movement, bringing their lips together. Genesis started, unable to react at first. His thoughts seemed to have shuddered to an abrupt halt, and his heart skipped the next few beats. Then something within him took control and his arms naturally went around Angeal's neck, pulling him closer until they were body to body. It felt as if they were drawn to each other like the two poles of a magnet, connected by the fire burning inside them, their hearts beating as one. He almost forgot to breathe in that moment, but then again, it didn't seem very necessary...

Breaking the kiss, their glances locked again, and it was clear without a doubt that right there and then, they could have gone further. For a tiny second, they were equally willing to give in to the current of heat coursing through their bodies, something that was stronger and deeper than the two of them. It was like cause and effect, like call and answer, without being able to tell which was which. In this very moment, they were both to each other. But then the realization set in, a wave of cold that wouldn't allow the fire to consume them. It was the knowledge that right here and now was the wrong place, the wrong time, a knowledge that was just there, without any rhyme or reason, a thought they shared as if they were just one single person. It was like looking into a mirror, a mirror that existed outside of the usual dimensions, so no one could tell what was real and what was reflection, about to reach out for the image it showed, seeing the same gesture in return, but then turning away in the last minute. As if you didn't want to find out that there was a glass surface in between. As if you were secretly hoping it might not be there, yet at the same time scared that it really wasn't. As if the fulfilment of this desire carried an unknown danger. Once they crossed this border, there would be no way back. And even if deep down in their hearts, they were both willing to take that risk at some point, they had decided that it wasn't now. In this moment, it was as if fate had put a naked blade between them indeed.

For a few heartbeats, they just looked at each other, almost shy, breathless.

Then Angeal slowly brushed a strand of hair out of Genesis' face and whispered: "You are so beautiful."

Genesis shook his head. "Don't say that..."

Was there a hint of panic in those wide blue eyes? "Why? It's nothing but the truth."

"Maybe, but beauty is only skin-deep after all..."

"Oh, I wasn't talking about looks only. I might have some flaws, but being superficial is not one of them..."

This time, Genesis made the first move. The kiss was gentle, missing any trace of demand or urgency. There was no devouring heat, just very comforting warmth; still it was neither a redemption nor a compensation. It was a promise. And without words, they both understood.

~°oOo°~

Down in the registry, the uninvited visitor had finally located his target, one of the huge grey filing cabinets in the Military section. Infantry, to be precise. The flashlight slowly drifted over the labels on the drawers, and finally rested on 'La – Lo'. He put his only light source down on a nearby shelf, and made sure it illuminated the 'target section' like a well-aimed spotlight. Then he opened the drawer, and just a second later his fingers danced eagerly over the labels... Laney... Lawrence... Lee... For a short moment, it seemed like his efforts had been in vain, but then he found what he had been looking for. Levery, Taylor.

~°oOo°~

Genesis had tucked his head under Angeal's chin. His breathing was light and almost soundless, but still created waves of warmth Angeal could feel through the fabric of his shirt.

When Genesis spoke up, his voice slightly staggered in the beginning, as if he wasn't too sure whether he should continue or not, but then it became more steady with every word: "Remember what I told you in the very beginning of our relationship? I warned you that I might be a better friend than lover. Of course I read countless stories on the topic of love and romance, but sometimes books are just books... How am I supposed to know what it is like in real life? My personal experiences in that matter weren't that great so far, and my parents weren't exactly good role models…"

The atmosphere in the room had changed gradually into something heavier, denser, more meaningful. Genesis hardly ever spoke about his family, and Angeal knew better than to inquire openly about that part of Genesis' life. Years of experience had taught him to wait for situations like this, where the intimacy of the moment would cause his friend to open up and spill his heart out, or at least parts of it. Moments like this had provided all the tiny bits of information Angeal had on that matter, the only puzzle pieces he had to connect his suspicions and his tries to read between the lines.

Genesis shifted slightly, searching either for a more comfortable position or more physical contact. Guessing that it might be the latter, Angeal gently put his right arm around him as well, and as if to appreciate the gesture, Genesis rested his hand on it lightly. After a brief moment of silence he continued, in a tone similar to the one he had used to tell Angeal stories when they had been younger, yet somehow more detached and serious.

"There was nothing romantic about my parents' relationship… Not even the very start of it. I have to admit, it was a bit like in that other story about star-crossed lovers, the part in the beginning that tells about 'two households, both alike in dignity', fiercely hating each other, but the parallels stop right there. Truth be told, those two households weren't very much alike after all, as it was an open secret in Banora that my father's family had only the reputation of a century-old, honourable name to offer, and my mother's family nothing but loads of money. Each one had what the other lacked, so they swallowed their pride, buried the hatred and arranged the marriage of their children. A perfect alliance. And that's all it was, from the very beginning on. An alliance, a rational bond, not more."

"Are you sure about that?" Angeal couldn't see Genesis' face, both due to the lack of light and the position they found themselves in, but he both heard and felt the bitter smile on his lips.

"Of course I'm sure. It was obvious every time they interacted with each other, if they bothered to do so at all, that is. From childhood on, I was used to see them mainly arguing. They had brought it down to an art, and the hurtful remarks they would throw at each other were coordinated like a dance. True, they knew how to play the perfect couple to the outside, yet on the inside they were living separate lives. In every possible way."

Angeal frowned. "You mean..."

"I doubt that there was ever a time they were both faithful to each other, aside from the very weeks of their marriage maybe." He sounded completely detached, yet there was a trace of disgust, maybe even of hurt echoing through these words.

"Seriously? Isn't it possible you just... misinterpreted something?" No matter how 'unconventional' Genesis' parents were, Angeal refused to believe that they had been that reckless.

"Oh please. Back then, I was a child, but I wasn't stupid. Besides, they didn't really make an effort to hide it. From the upper class society, maybe, but not from each other, and not from me. Guess my opinion just wasn't important enough..." He paused.

Is that the reason why you are so scared? You looked at your parents and got a pretty good idea what love wasn't supposed to be like, but at the same time, you were afraid that it would always end up that way, because you were never sure if that ideal of romantic love actually existed outside of novels?

"Sometimes I seriously wondered why they had me in the first place. My mother had been an only-child, nothing more than your typical rich girl, a spoiled little princess. She was used to having everything, and to being admired and envied for it. As a young girl, her father bought her an expensive, pure breed white Persian cat. She never fed it, brushed it or played with it – that's what servants were for, after all - but every time visitors were there, she dragged the poor thing around, and people would admire it and tell her how cute it was. One day, after she got married, the cat died; and she decided to rather have a child instead of a new kitten. Obviously though, I was a bad replacement... Only half as cute, but twice as demanding."

Surprisingly little hurt leaked through those words, as if they merely stated a fact Genesis had accepted long ago. Angeal tried to come up with something to say in return, but he found himself unable to.

"I clearly remember one day when I was sitting on my parents' bed, watching my mother doing her hair for some event in the evening. On the spur of the moment, I asked her: 'You and dad, do you love each other?' For a just a heartbeat, she turned her eyes from her mirror image to look at me. When she resumed her work, she simply said: 'Love is overrated, darling.'

Ironically, I always had a very distinct idea of what love was supposed to be like, knowing at the same time that in the house I grew up in there was no such thing. Witnessing this void day after day after day, I vowed to myself that if I ever chose to be with someone, it would be for love only, and for no other reason."

Is this why it took you so long to decide whether or not you wanted to be with me? Because you weren't sure if it was really love? Because you weren't sure what love was supposed to be like at all? However, since you are here with me now, that obviously means that you made up your mind, doesn't it?

Some question should never be asked, because an honest answer might be worse than not knowing. Some questions, however, would have changed everything if they had just been asked at the right time. It's just terribly hard to distinguish one from the other.

~°oOo°~

The intruder took a moment to study the first page of the file. As usual in the Shinra Company, it showed a few pictures of the person in question, mug-shot style. Taylor Levery turned out to have light brown, wavy hair and intense dark brown eyes. His expression was defiant, somehow smug, yet not unappealing. A brief scan through his records showed a quite impressive military career, up to Infantry Sergeant. The only flaw seemed to be not passing the tests for SOLDIER straight away, but he had enough recommendations to try it a second time. Judging from what the file said he might have actually made it that time round. Might have. As indicated by the thick black marks and the infamous three letters on the file cover, Taylor Levery had lost his life in the line of duty about two years ago. KIA. A whole world of grief and pain put into three simple signs.

The report about his death was short, almost clinical, making the whole event something normal and ordinary. In a war, soldiers died almost every day. No big deal. He smiled bitterly, because he knew the details that were not mentioned in the report. Levery's death had not been brief and merciful, quite the opposite. Slow, cruel, painful, the kind of death you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy... Yet this missing bit of information was not what he was interested in. His eyes scanned the last pages of the file over and over again for a single detail, a little hint between the lines he hoped to find. Another puzzle piece, not more, not less.

~°oOo°~

A dream?

He didn't know how long he had been walking around in this greyish twilight. There were no windows anywhere – a fact that made him feel even more claustrophobic - yet this strange glow seemed to exist nonetheless. All hallways looked the same, vaguely familiar, yet unrecognizable. With an eerie certainty, he knew this was a dream, but it felt so strangely real that he had to remind himself of that fact over and over again.

The hollow sound of his footstep echoed in the air, but apart from that, there was only silence, heavy, meaningful silence. Trying not to think about it, he kept walking, past the all those doors that lined the way, leading to unknown destinations, towards a faint glow at the end of the long-stretched corridor. Finally, he found himself in a large room. It seemed empty, and for a moment he just stood there, feeling his own slightly too fast heartbeat and halfway expecting it to echo back from the walls.

His eyes were drawn to a part of the wall right opposite of him. To his surprise, it was covered with pieces of paper, just like in his room. Just like in every room he had ever lived in for a longer time, he corrected himself in his thoughts. He tried to make out some of the words on those notes, or the pictures drawn on them, only to realize the he couldn't. The faint light was not to blame, instead the lines seemed to blur as soon as he tried to focus on their content.

However, there was one thing he was able to see clearly. Someone had written a message across all those notes, in large black letters: 'May you never forget what is worth remembering, nor ever remember what is best forgotten.'

He frowned. His mind kept frantically searching for anything connected with this line, but to no avail.

Suddenly, the notes started to move, as if someone had just opened a window. They fluttered for a moment and then – as if captured by an immense gush of wind – they came off the wall like leaves being torn off by an autumn storm. Instinctively, he closed his eyes. The notes washed over him like a giant flood wave, touching his skin with cold and weak caresses, creating a pattern of sounds that were like voices, calling out to him, pleading.

Then suddenly, it was over. Daring to take a careful glimpse at his surroundings, he realized that all the pieces of paper had disappeared, safe for one single shred he was holding in his hand, without any memory how it had gotten there.

In a round, calligraphic handwriting he instantly recognized, it featured two lines in red ink:

'9 – 16- 18' and 'Extending in the same direction, equidistant at all points, and never converging or diverging'.

What is that? A math problem?

Startled, he turned the shred around, only to find another sentence written on the back: 'Third time's a charm'.

That still makes no sense...

He shook his head, and looking up, his glance drifted to the wall that had been covered in notes before. Although that cover was gone now, it was not empty. There was a large mirror. Given the laws of nature, he should have been able to see himself in it, and he did. Only that it wasn't him. Or not exactly.

Oh Gaia, not again.

He was looking at a child, a little boy of not more than ten years. The mirror-image looked back at him with no obvious expression on his face, but the eyes were strangely deep and veiled with something he could not read at all... Reproach? Anger? Sadness?

How could you? The sentence was hanging in the air, yet there was only silence, until someone suddenly called his name. He didn't recognize the voice, but his mirror-image did. An expression of pain, of torment appeared on the child's face, so subtle that he wouldn't have recognized it if the face hadn't been his own. For a second, there was an unspoken plea in those eyes. Help me. Oh please, help me... And then the child suddenly turned around.

Without being able to say why, he reached out for the mirror, only to touch a smooth, cold glass surface, so cold that it made him shiver. The mirror seemed to tremble as well, and then suddenly, there was another sound. Something he recognized instantly, a low grating. With a hint of panic, he discovered that cracks had started to form on the glass surface, right under his hand, and they slowly started to divide into branching lines. And just like the mirror, his thoughts crumbled and broke apart, forming an incoherent mess.

I have to... but I can't... Sweet merciful Goddess, I can't...

And finally, there was a voice, calm, steady, but full of disdain: Is that all you can do? Seriously, your weakness is making me sick. After all those years, you are still the same frightened little boy. Pathetic.

A/N – the second: Just a short remark, actually.

The two lines Genesis quotes in connection with the tale are taken from Heather Dale's musical version of this legend, a song called "Tristan and Isolt" (there you go, if you hadn't already figured it out on your own ;). If you want a 'ten-minute-nutshell-version' of the story, I recommend listening to it (can be found on youtube, for example. And yes, there's a black/white motive in that story, too). I originally wanted to quote from an older source, but couldn't find a nice (and easily understandable) passage from a poem or a text written in verse.

In addition, I just wanted to mention that there is another song that somehow goes with the mood of this chapter (more as a 'background-inspiration' though), which would be Sarah Brightman's "Fleurs du Mal".