Disclaimer: I do not own CCFF7 or the characters associated with it; those are the work of Square Enix. I, however, own The Memory of Falling and all associated stories.

Warning: yaoi, established SephirothxGenesis. If you do not like these things, this is not the story for you, and I ask that you leave now instead of staying just to complain. Really, it does nothing but waste your time. Dark themes may be inside, and language, not sure yet.

Author's Note: Sorry I haven't been updating anything much lately, but right now is LDWriMo, the Lemon-Drops Writer's Month, in which all of us members scramble to write as much in one new story as absolutely possible. My Silent Hill fic is my attempt for this event. So, I have been neglecting everything else in order to power out Calling All Souls. Sorry. Hopefully this tides everyone (including me, who has been dying to write more SephxGen) by for the next month?

CHALLENGES AND CHOICES

Lazard was asking a lot of them. But did he even realize it? From what Genesis knew, understood, the Director still did not know about he and Sephiroth, which was probably for the best, but at what cost? Genesis looked in the mirror, long and hard. His auburn hair hung just as perfectly as it always did. He was a vain soul, so that was no surprise. His milky skin looked no different, and his azure eyes had a slight glow in the dim light, speaking of the mako in his system.

In a day's time, the dark blue of his turtleneck would be replaced with black.

Genesis let his eyes close, running a black gloved hand through his hair, pushing the auburn fringe from his face before it fell back forward into place. It felt like just yesterday when he was only a cadet, but Genesis knew full well that was years ago.

Years.

So much had changed from then.

Turning, Genesis opened the locker which had been assigned to him for years now, pulling off his gloves as it swung the rest of the way open. He put the gloves up on the top shelf, next working on the black bowl pauldrons, unclipping them from his crisscrossing torso straps. Putting the pauldrons on the floor of the locker, Genesis reached in, pulling out the jacket, red leather, which his parents had had made specifically for him, for his promotion to First.

It was here now. Genesis wanted to tell them, but the circumstances of it… He paused, taking in a deep breath before pulling on the red coat. Hooking on the cross straps on the inside of the shoulders of his jacket, Genesis arranged the black and silver pauldrons over his shoulders. The final piece was the crimson gloves, Genesis turning back towards the mirror.

Tomorrow, he would be wearing a black SOLDIER First Class uniform with that jacket. It would be his premier presentation to the world. This would be their first look at him, standing beside rather than inside that six foot one shadow of Sephiroth. The limelight would be on the both of them, and Genesis knew this had to be the performance of his life.

But did Lazard know what he was asking of them?

It was one thing to fight a rival. It was another to fight a lover. And then there was what Genesis and Sephiroth were to one another. The redhead knew they were more than just casual lovers, as they had been entangled physically and emotionally for years. They were more than just rivals, for they had been tangling for power and dominance since before they even really knew one another. Turning their swords on one another in more than just a friendly spar was going to be difficult. Rough, even.

Genesis had played looking completely comfortable with this, bitter even that this was the only reason he was finally being promoted to SOLDIER First Class. It was just an act. It hurt. The problem was, he could show that to no one. Not Angeal. Not Lazard. Not Sephiroth.

He had to remain strong through this. He had been waiting for this opportunity for years, and it was finally here. He couldn't back down… even if he should.