Chapter 2: Home is Where the Trouble Begins

Warm light chased away shadows from unadorned white walls and stark bareness of Sephiroth's living quarters. One gloved hand fell from the switch and the other pulled at the pack slung across dipping shoulders. The bag hit the tile floor by the entryway with a thump and worn boots echoed through the spartan room with each step. Six weeks passed since he met the Revenant, and since then, he saw naught of the supposed apparition. Now, he was back in Midgar, the war in Wutai at a hesitant truce, both sides retreating back, compromises made by their leaders. No doubt the fighting would pick up. ShinRa would ask the Wutainese for more than their pride allowed and the again they'd be back to their bloody dispute. If they were as wise and enlightened a people as they claimed, they'd allow ShinRa to collect Mako in the country instead of waging a pointless war.

Even a weapon such as he understood the futility. He knew where it would all end.

Lips thinned and strained into a half-smile, his head shaking at the illogical nature of those raised on pride and passions. It made them weak. Be they samurai or Soldier. Because in Genesis he could see the very same faults as the Wutainese people whose culture he admired. It would be his downfall some day. Speaking of downfalls...Sephiroth glanced at the reflective surface of his refrigerator. A warped twin stared back from stainless steel, hardly recognizable as him at all. "Am I losing my mind?" he asked his smeared visage. He opened the unit and sighed at the scare contents within. ShinRa provided its Elite with private quarters, including all the accouterments required of a standard apartment. But it did not mean they kept the kitchenettes stocked. That was left to the men who lived there for however many months out of the year. Which meant what remained of his consumables was a pack of beer that Genesis snuck in from the Lower Plate as a promotion gift.

He let the door shut. Today he would eat in the cafeteria. Though his quarters could use a good cleaning after laying empty for all this time. Sephiroth trailed into his bedroom, ignoring the niggling truth eating at the edges of his brain. He should go see Hojo, find out if his mako levels were abnormal. It would explain any hallucinations. But telling Hojo that he was seeing things...THAT was something that did not appeal. The scientist would use it as an excuse to treat Sephiroth as a lab rat. No doubt he was missing his favorite project now that he belonged to SbinRa as a Soldier as opposed to Hojo outright.

"It was a one time incident," he murmured, unclasping his belt and sitting on the trunk at the foot of the bed. New boots were in order, the laces were ready to fall apart as unknotted them. "Hewley and Rhapsodos will keep the information confidential, as will my men." There was no one else alive who knew of his fight with the unseeable menace that cut down six of his soldiers with no issue. A shower would clear his thoughts. Hot water and a change of clothes.

"You know, they say talking to yourself is a sign of insanity."

Sephiroth leapt to his feet and whirled. Standing in the doorway to his bedroom was the Revenant, arms crossed, leaning against the frame with indolent ease. Masamune appeared in Sephiroth's hand, beckoned from where she slumbered with a swipe of his arm.

"You truly no little else but war, Demon," the blond warrior remarked, remaining in his relaxed pose. "Ever lay down your blade in the name of mercy?"

"A swift death at my hand is the only mercy my enemies will know." Instead of flinching, cowering or drawing the mighty blade from his own back, the Revenant laughed. It was patronizing. Like an adult amused by the rant of raging child. Sephiroth pointed Masamune at his foe's throat, the tip of the curved blade resting beneath the warrior's chin. "How are you here? I watched you die." He felt his body cleave apart and watched him fade into shadows. He saw nothing of the man since. And if he were a ghostly protector or Wutai, why would he be here? He should have been left behind on the country's soil.

Laughter faded as the Revenant pushed the blade away with a tip of his finger. Solid. Just as Sephiroth recalled. If it could touch, be touched...if it could talk and bleed...it was real enough to destroy. Whether by trickery or spell that made him seem otherwise, this creature was mortal. Anything else was unthinkable. Unprecedented. Unreal.

"I find that the dead tend to do as they please," the Revenant said. Mako bright eyes were like stars against his shadow drenched face, the light from the living room dripping around his form as it would any normal human. There was no ethereal haze or transparency. Nothing to suggest he was supernatural. "So please put down the sword. I'd like to avoid piecing myself back together again right this moment. It was boring."

Sephiroth kept Masamune held out, ready for the attack.

Bright stars blinked and the warrior pushed from the doorway, "Maybe you will be more reasonable later." He gave the Solider an offhand wave and dared to put his back to the First. "Until then." And just like that, he appeared to melt away, like a fog banished by a powerful gust of wind. Sephiroth lowered his arm and stared at the empty spot where the Revenant stood. Feline eyes narrowed into slits.

It was time to see that slimy scientist Hojo for some blood work.

.x.

Clean.

The report came back free of abnormalities. His mako levels were normal (for him), no trace of foreign substances tainting his blood and he was as healthy as when he left to fight in the war, save for losing a few pounds. After greedily drawing more blood than required for a simple mako test, Hojo ran a few minor tests (only one of which involved causing Sephiroth unnecessary amounts of pain) and declared the First fit to remain on duty. It was expected for Soldiers to report in for a medical evaluation after an extended leave, but normally ShinRa himself had to order Sephiroth up to the research floor. Hojo apparently saw this as his favorite project realizing his place and being a good, obedient boy, instead of suspicious. So he handed him an unmarked bottle of pills he claimed were vitamins and ushered the First out. He was a busy man with things to do. No time to babysit.

Bottle in hand, Sephiroth entered the glass elevator with a sinking realization in his gut. Either the Revenant was real and haunting him specifically; or, he was crazy. He wasn't sure which was preferable. He wasn't a man that liked the thought of losing control of his mental state, but to have an enemy constant lurking at his back was far from ideal. Especially since it didn't want to stay dead.

"I don't know how you stand that man." Appearing beside him was the annoyance plaguing his thoughts. He was peering out the walls of the elevator, gazing across the polluted skyline of Midgar. A dark expression crossed his face, like when they fought in Wutai. "He is the cause of so much misery."

"...I cannot disagree."

The smile that twisted on the Revenant's face was manic, and his voice became a ragged whisper, "He could have a happy little accident. End it before it begins. End him. End you. End Soldier. End ShinRa. End the war. Gone. Gone. Gone. End it all." He reached out and splayed a hand on the glass. He had a reflection. Sephiroth could see the eerie wildness in shining eyes. Did they ever go dull? It was like the mako in his blood was always blazing. Growing brighter, and brighter until their luminescence rivaled the neon of the Lower Plate's red light district. Sephiroth unfurled his fingers, ready to draw Masamune and wage war in this elevator when he heard the clearing of a throat.

Director Veld and his apprentice, Tseng, stood in the doorway. The Turks, in their distinct navy suits and tinted glasses, observed him with blank faces. "Is something amiss, Sir?" asked Veld in that overly formal manner his kind specialized in. A Turk was always suspicious, paranoid, always looking for answers and rooting out lies. ShinRa may call them his personal bodyguards, everyone knew they were his spies and assassins.

"Nothing," Sephiroth breezed past the two men. This was his stop after all.

He felt eyes on his back. And then, the elevator whisked away.

"No orders to shoot me this time?" Sephiroth did not look back at the Revenant. The madness from earlier was gone, replaced by mockery. This warrior, ghost, thing: it was unhinged. One moment calm, the other homicidal. How could it touch and yet go unseen? Why did no one else's eye pierce whatever veil it wore? Too many questions. He hated it. And if there were fewer eyes watching him, he would have hacked the threat apart and banished it for another six weeks. But as last time proved, when one goes about attacking seemingly nothing at all, it brought his sanity into question. He did not need more of that. Not while he was already wondering about it himself.

"I could do it you know. I could bring this whole city to its foundation." The warrior matched Sephiroth's stride and continued, answering the unspoken question the air. "But that isn't what I am here to do."

"What is your purpose, then?" Sephiroth asked under his breath.

The return of the manic smile was his only reply.

And apparently, his only warning of what to come.

Lunch in the cafeteria passed uneventfully, but as soon as Sephiroth returned to his quarters, the unwanted 'ghost' began rummaging through his cabinets. Loudly. Opening the cheap, black-painted doors and closing them none too gently. There was the occasional shuffle and clank of a pot or pan being moved or utensils getting rearranged. He did his best to ignore the noise as he went about unpacking his bag (which he dragged into his bedroom after returning), but the Revenant's snooping was insufferable! This was the only place where he had any privacy, and that maniac was terrorizing his kitchen as if he owned it.

Sephiroth ventured back out a short while later to find the Revenant sitting on the counter drinking one of those cheap beers. The blond crushed the can as Sephiroth approached, finished with it.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"It tasted like chocobo piss," he replied, examining the crumpled tin in his hand. "But I've had worse." He tossed the lump at Sephiroth's head, frowning when the young man batted it aside instead of letting the projectile smack between his brows. "You never struck me as the the Corel Blue type. And last I checked...aren't you Midgarians stuck up about the drinking age? You're like, fifteen."

"Seventeen," Sephiroth corrected stiffly.

"Naughty, naughty."

He summoned Masamune and lashed out. But instead of slicing the Revenant's head off, he decimated the front of his top cabinets. Two were rent off their hinges and a third hung pitifully, only half of it remaining. A snap-hiss made him whirl. Leaning over the tiny island separating kitchen from living room was the Revenant, sipping on another beer. "If we're going to get along as roommates, you can't attempt to kill me over drinking your terrible beer."

The blond ducked as Sephiroth swung again.

"Is this really necessary?"

When Masamune sank into the tile an inch from his left foot, the Revenant let out a sigh and set down his stolen drink. He drew the massive broadsword from his back and fell into a fighting stance. The pair launched at each other and soon the tiny apartment became a battleground. Crashes, thumps and the screech of metal resounded in the air. Unfortunately for Sephiroth, his usual tactics involving maximizing Masamune's reach were almost impossible to employ, and his foe was quick to take advantage. That monstrous blade he wielded actually broke apart into separate swords, and mid fight, he found himself in close combat. He made to put distance between them, but his leap landed him on the back of a shredded sofa. The piece of furniture protested and gave way, sending Sephiroth tumbling to the ground. He was on his knees for a split second, but that was enough time for the blond to once more close in.

Sephiroth lifted Masamune, but the Revenant slammed the pommel of his larger sword down on Sephiroth's wrist, knocking his arm to the side. He then took advantage of the momentary opening to slash at the First's gut. Pain launched through him. Metal sliced through cloth, skin and flesh. His eyes brightened as Mako flooded his system, numbing him, making him stronger...

BAM!

His world went black.

Even the mightiest Soldier wasn't immune to a solid blow to the head.

When he roused, aching and confused, he saw two figures rushing towards him. Sephiroth groped for Masamune but found her gone, returned again to her otherworldly sheath when he fell unconscious. One of the figures knelt and tilted Sephiroth's face towards them.

"Angeal?" he blinked. "Genesis?" The auburn Solider stood next to his raven friend. Both men looked concerned.

"Sephiroth, what happened here? There looks to have been a fight," Angeal asked.

"Humph, or you were wasted and didn't invite us to the party." Genesis added. He shrugged when Angeal shot him a glare. "What? I can count five empty, crumpled up cans on the floor. Didn't know a Soldier could be such a lightweight, but Sephy here isn't exactly a drinker. And look at him, not a scratch. If he was in a fight and someone got the best of him, wouldn't they have finished him off while he was down?"

Sephiroth sat up with a slow breath, one hand coming up to rub where he was half-gutted. His mako healed him up, but the tear in his shirt remained. Apparently the redhead could notice beer cans but not the state of his uniform. Slowly, reluctantly, he said, "Revenant."

"What?" Angeal helped Sephiroth stand. "You're saying the ghost from Wutai did this?"

He nodded.

Genesis frowned, lips pursed in scholarly thought, "He followed you to Midgar to slay you, yet did not take the opportunity? Did you wound him terribly like last time? I was so certain his Quest was your death."

"He claims he could tear Midgar down to its foundation if he wished."

"And he hasn't?"

Sephiroth walked over to one of the crumpled beer cans, "No. He simply called your beer piss and then drank it all." Apparently he decided to finish the rest of the six pack while Sephiroth was down. "His motivations at this point elude me."

"Well, regardless, this place is a mess," Genesis said. "How are you going to explain this to the higher ups? Attempting to perform an exorcism and it went horribly wrong?"

He scoffed and ran a hand over a rent in the wall, "Hn. I will say I am...redecorating."

Angeal shook his head, "With a sword?"

"Worked for Genesis."

The auburn shrugged, "He has a point."

"As long as you don't go storming down the halls with a fireball in hand, ranting about the absolute horrors of mismatched drapery..." Angeal pinched his brow.

"Of course not," Sephiroth assured him. "Summons invoke far more terror."

At Genesis' contemplation expression, Angeal turned away, "I heard none of this. None of it!" He rubbed his face with one hand, "But on a more serious note, what are we going to do about this Revenant issue? Hope he doesn't go on a murdering rampage before Sephiroth figures out how to dispel him?"

All three fell silent. This was new territory for a trio of young men who were all too used to conquering every foe they faced with force alone.

Genesis cleared his throat, "Perhaps one of should stay with him to assist when the Revenant becomes violent."

"What use is there of us being here if we cannot see him?" Angeal countered.

"Well how do you know we can't?"

"Because he is sitting on what remains of the couch and none of you have noticed," Sephiroth drawled. The two other Firsts turned to face the blond who rather cheekily waved at them. Angeal crossed his arms and Genesis tucked both hands into the pockets of his crimson jacket.

"Want to play nice now, Sephy?"

Sephiroth gave the warrior a black stare, "You two may leave. I am recovered."

"What about the Revenant? You said he is right there," Angeal said.

"He appears to want a truce of some variety. If I require your assistance, I will call."

Both men looked at each other and reluctantly walked to the door. Genesis, before he followed Angeal out, cast a glance back at Sephiroth, "You probably made a ruckus when you fought with him. I'm surprised a Turk didn't get here by now, so...be careful." And then he was gone, the door shut behind him.

"I like them. Didn't realize you had such close friends."

Sephiroth stiffened. The blond was smiling at him and he couldn't read what it meant. Were his words genuine or a hidden threat? "Do not touch them."

"Now how exactly would you stop me?" he asked before chuckling. The blond slid off the couch and sauntered to the fridge as if he owned the place, "Onto more important matters. We're out of beer."

.tbc.

A/N: (Thank you everyone who reviewed~ Your little comments are what inspires me to keep writing. Expect a bigger time skip next chapter. We're getting to the thick of the plot very soon. As always, reviews are love! See you all next time.)