PART II:

there have been so many times
I have seen a man wanting to weep
but
instead
beat his heart until it was unconscious.

-Nayyirah Waheed

Chapter 17 - Flawed Logic

August, 1984

Remember.

His fingers dig into the comforter in his room. Part of his mind is blank. The emptiness is so big that no matter how far or deep he goes into it, there is nothing there. Nothing, he closes his eyes, nothing where there should be something.

Remember.

He grits his teeth and pushes further into the blankness. It hurts. Every part of him wants to pull back into the safeness of the present. Shadows of memories hover in him but they don't mean anything. They are gauzy, draping him things that he doesn't understand: confusion, upset, pain, snow.

Remember.

He remembers the concept of snow. That is easy. His mind shuffles through pictures of snow and how coldness bites his nose. When it snows, you need a jacket and a scarf. When it snows, it gets harder to travel outside. When it snows, it is winter. Sephiroth winces. These are facts. These are not memories. These aren't the things that he lost.

Shinra has been trying for weeks to bring his memories back. The doctors have tried everything. Every time, he gets his hopes up. The letdown, the blankness that remains, hurts him until he can't hope anymore when they call him in again. The last time, he sat in the office with things attached to his head and wondered about only trivial things. What will he eat for dinner? Will he eat alone in the corner again? How long will it take for him to stop smelling like fake lemons in R&D's cleaning solution?

He knows it shouldn't matter. Mariella goes over everything that he should know about himself but it isn't the same. He wants to know them for himself. He wants to be normal. He wants to be like them.

The look on the doctor's face today told him everything before the words came out of his mouth."Your memory is most likely gone. You have some recollection, the shadows as you call them, but…maybe with time. Who knows what the Wutaian monsters did. The mako exposure was off the charts. It should have killed you."

The doctor had taken his hand and held it, like it was a consolation. "You need to focus on this, the present. I am going to recommend that we do not pursue further treatment. I'm sorry that this happened to you. At least you are young and you still have your whole life ahead of you."

Sephiroth was sent back to his room where he sits now.

Who he was is gone. Ten years of his life, they tell him, completely erased. He might have known the face of his mother before she died. Every Christmas, every summer, every friend he may have had, they were all gone. Mariella tries to help but there is something strange about what she says. A fakeness, a perfection, happiness that he is sure can't be true because he can't imagine being that happy.

Remember.

His face hurts as he grinds the heels of his palms against his eyes.

A table with people around it. He was afraid. People talk as if he isn't there. Food was served at the dinner table. Why was he afraid? A knife cut hard and sharp through meat. The memory winks out. Even the table is gone. He stands in darkness. The voices that were transparent in his mind are now smoke. Who was he? Why are all the things that he can remember bad? What happened to him before? His body is clear of scars. His hair is silver and his eyes are green slits in the mirror but they said that they came from Wutai's mako.

The Wutaians are the ones that captured and experimented on him. It is because of them that his memory is gone. Sephiroth's guts turn. He's angry. Wutai shouldn't have done that. It was unfair. They took away everything. It's because of them that he is so helpless and lost.

He's shaking. He could walk past his best friend and never know it. It's all gone. It's a gaping hole that will never fill. Already the damage has settled in the back of his head. It separates him. He looks at other people and he can see the color in the back of their eyes. Their experience, their history, the love that has filled them up. He's hollow and empty.

Remember. Please, please, please remember.

Tears work around his hands and run down his face.

"Hey there."

Mariella stands at the doorway of the room. She crosses her arms with a smile that waivers.

Sephiroth lets his hands drop between his knees. His mouth is dry.

"I got the news."

He nods. He looks at a scratch on the floor. It's still hard to look anyone in the face. They tell him it is okay. A twitch in his mind still makes him look away before he is caught. His hair was shaved when he first got here, now it tickles his ears. He wishes it could be longer so he could hide behind it.

"Everything okay?" Mariella pauses, as if she is going to say more then stops. Her shoes make noise as she moves across the room.

Sephiroth's fingers find each other. He clutches them so tight that they go white and ache. He wants to close his eyes and pretend that none of this is happening. She gets closer and stops. He stares at the deep scratch in the floor where the bed frame used to be when scientists slept here late at night.

Mariella's face interrupts as she crouches down, coming into view. "You are going to be okay. Promise."

His cheeks and nose hurt. He tries to believe her. His fingers tighten into fists. He squints and closes his eyes. Every question that he has shrivels and dies. He's asked her to explain everything to him too many times. He won't do that to her one more time. The answer will be the same as it always is.

"I thought we should do something fun. Are you up for that?"

He nods more automatically than real consent. Her lips twitch into a half smile before it falls off.

She takes him shopping. School is going to start soon and he needed to get some proper things for it. They have enrolled him in a private school that Shinra runs for their employee's children. They are ushering him forward. They say that normalcy will be good. As they walk down the aisle with all these bright colors, he doesn't understand. His brain isn't big enough for this. All this stuff is foreign to him. R&D doesn't have animal photos, logos, patterns or fun fabrics. When he sees a folder with a superhero he can't help wondering if before he knew who this was before. The pain in his chest twists deeper.

Mariella keeps him going and directs him. Sephiroth choses from options. Things go in the cart. None of them make any impression on him. He's floating in this strange place with no context. This is exciting, Mariella insists but he struggles as he picks out notebooks and folders at a store. The items are insignificant compared to his feelings.

Every person that they pass he expects to remember him. When their eyes gloss over him, he crumples inside.

"Did I have friends?" He asks quietly as he looks at two different types of pens. The packaging has words on them but he's not bothering to read.

Mariella hums. "Not really. We were friends. Remember we traveled around for my job? We never stopped anywhere long enough to make friends."

This is the same answer she gave yesterday. He lifts the pens in his left hand and then does the same to the right ones. Bright letters explain durability.

"My mom?" He pretends to look at the other one so he doesn't have to look at her.

Her voice is softer. "She's not with us, Sephiroth."

"My dad?"

"They are all gone. That's why I was looking after you."

He nods and tosses the left package in. He's getting a headache. Everything is compacting in him like a hard rock that he can't move. He can't move on from this like they are saying he will. How is he supposed to do this? Everything Mariella says is simple answers. It feels like she has neatened his life for him. She's cut away the sharp corners. He's always been a good kid. They are friends. Shinra has always taken care of him. She will continue to be here for him. It is a wall of phrases.

"Look. You do know something about yourself. You have a favorite color. Check out the cart." She interrupts his thoughts.

He looks. Everything that has been tossed in the bin is the same color: black.

"You picked out everything yourself, right?"

He stops and thinks. It's true. Everything in the bin is the same color: black. Something beaten up inside him looks up. The folders, the pencil case, the backpack, everything is shades of black. His hands cover on the edge of the cart as he peers at them. It is a solid fact. He likes the color. That understanding sits in his mind like a little candle in the middle of the unknown.

"How about this? A little experiment, hmm?" She moves quickly away from him. He takes a step back and follows her with his eyes. Experiments haven't been good, no matter who they have been coming from.

She grasps a pink lunch box. "What do you think of this?"

That color makes him think of things that are too sweet and the color of his insides. "I don't like it."

"Sephiroth doesn't like hot pink. We know that now," she says this like it is big news. He turns his head. What is she up to? While most of the time, she's interested in him, but this is something else, like she's trying to make him feel better.

She turns back and grabs a yellow one. "This one?"

He shakes his head.

"What was I thinking?" She raises an eyebrow and that makes him smile a little.

The next one is blue. The color is rich and deep. It reminds him of looking out at a sky right after dusk. He frowns. He's not seen that. His room doesn't have windows.

"That one is…good, I guess."

She puts that lunch box in the cart. "You like blue. You need a lunch box so we will keep this one as a contender."

"I do like blue," he says to himself. That is something that he can keep inside. A truth about himself that knows. It's nice. The thought calms the whirl of chaos inside him.

Procedurally, they go through all the lunch box colors except for brown which she has to lift up a folder for him to "test". They don't stop there. The list expands beyond school supplies. He picks out some new shirts and pants in his new favorite colors. Mariella suggests a classical looking clock for his room but he decides on a modern one. The decision thrills him. These are things that he has done to make himself a person again.

In the end, the cart is a full jumble of items. A rug sticks out of his new backpack. New shoes are in a box. He's chosen a small canvas print of a mountain to put on his wall about the desk. The strangest thing he takes is a stuffed toy dog. Mariella stutters as it goes into the cart. He watches a stream of emotions flicker past him. There it is again. Something that she's not telling him about himself. She recovers by praising the choice. The button eyes look at him like they are waiting for him to solve this puzzle. He doesn't know why he gets it. It is even in one of his least favorite colors.

They haul the bags into their rented car and then pile in to go back to HQ.

The bags are easy to carry as Sephiroth leads Mariella back to his room. They've given him a space tucked in the far corner of the first floor of R&D. There are several emergency "nap" rooms for staff. They took an isolated one and had given it to him permanently. It isn't very big but he's not really that big and otherwise he's not sure where he would live. Mariella said that her apartment is too small.

They spread the rug over the scuff marks. The mountain picture looks like a window on the wall. Placing the clock on his desk brings him something close to a content feeling. Mariella fusses with the black backpack, making sure all the supplies are stripped of their packaging and put in the right pockets.

Sephiroth pulls the stuffed dog out of the bag. The eyes look blank but they echo something in him. His fingers automatically scratch under where a collar might have been. He tries to reach for the memory of why he does this but nothing comes to the surface. He doesn't chase after it. They stand at a distance in his mind and he tries to enjoy that this means something to him.

The fingers dig so hard into the fluff that the body contorts.

"Well, it looks less drab," Mariella says as she stands.

He nods. The toy goes on the bed. She's right. The room has color and pieces of things that Sephiroth likes. The rug is soft under his feet as he sits on the bed. The desk has the clock and he's put the little toy soldier, one of the only things Mariella saved from before, next to it. His dresser has clothes in it that he's picked out. He realizes that he is not a broken patient stuffed in this room anymore.

"It doesn't have to feel like home but does it feel a bit better?" She comes in front of him. His eyes flicker to hers and then they go to the left, to the dog.

"It's better." The words are true but soft.

"You're being so brave." Her voice is warm. "I want you to know that."

"Thanks." He doesn't know about that. He's been stumbling forward. It doesn't feel like he is being brave. A fragment of something comes back to him as he stares at the toy soldier. He looks up at her, sharply. "Did I know someone named…Orlin?"

Another stutter in her face that she hides by sitting on the bed next to him. "You used to. He works here. You two have met once or twice."

The name gives him a wave of feelings. He remembers laughter and dizziness.

"Can I see him?"

She blows out a breath and stares at the ceiling, thinking. Sephiroth looks down. It is too much to ask. He should have known that. He should be happy with what he has.

"I'd have to see. He's a busy guy. He's a SOLDIER, he works to protect this place," she says finally.

"Okay."

It's her turn to nod, look at the rug and then finally return her gaze to him. "I'll look into it, promise. Look, in a couple days, we will get you a haircut. Start thinking about what you want."

"Okay." He feels funny so the one word answer is the only that he can give. She is trying to fill the void that is in him. He's thankful for the help. The room does look better but he's still alone as he sits next to her.

"School will be good for you. There will be new friends there."

He nods.

Mariella leaves without saying goodbye. Sephiroth watches the door close. His eyes roam around the room. Regardless of everything, it does feel better. He wants what he had before. He wants to be whole. She's gone over everything before the kidnapping over and over again but it isn't the same. He grasps the toy dog and sits it on his lap.

Why?

Why did this happen?

Why did Wutai make him this way?

They sit together for a long time until Sephiroth collapses on his side, buries his face in the fake fur and drops into sleep.

Each of these parts could stand on their own because they complete their own narrative arcs so welcome to part 2! Ominous enough for you yet?

What do you think?

Thanks for reading as always. -Quin

Thanks to the ever insightful A for betaing this chapter. You can find their FFVII work on Twitter (AngealLovesYou).