Author note: Ah, I just got back from a vacation and I already want another one. I need help, I've developed an aversion to work haha. My goodness, we're seriously at chapter thirty! Honestly this is the first fic I've ever updated this quickly.


Chapter start

Fending off Genesis and Angeal required… certain skills. Angeal a little less. The more serious man was prone to recognize, and acquiesce when one had a need to be alone. Genesis, the opposite. He would come in like a storm, all loud expletives and drive to corner, then coerce. While normally he could tolerate both, tonight wasn't decent.

They'd come to his home the moment he'd arrived back, advanced senses heralding his return like a trumpet to the other firsts. Genesis had let himself in, door thrust open with a flourish as he breezed in. Angeal came in slower, muttering about manners and carrying a plate. It balanced easily in his arm, smells of seasoned potatoes and sausage floating through the air. Angeal had ferreted out that Sephiroth had a preference for breakfast foods, which was tragic since he rarely ate in the mornings. So, he'd taken to once a week making something breakfast related as lunch or dinner.

Had Sophie been here, she'd have clapped for joy. Bad thought. Sephiroth closed his eyes, banishing the thoughts again. Thinking of her, made him think about everything he'd overheard, and they'd then disclosed. It was a struggle, not to demand more from them, from her. Always on his side, yet she'd separated him from information involving him, no matter how unimportant she might have thought it was.

He steadfastly ignored the small whisper that she'd betrayed him by finding out that information and not immediately revealing it all. Those small whispers were always there, always being a nuisance in the back of his brain. That he was different. Special. It increased when he was near Aerith, it seemed. Anger, and the voice urging to spill her blood. He put it down to mako making him more dangerous.

There were multiple reports of SOLDIERS degenerating either mentally or physically over time. He'd read over them, agreeing on the need to terminate the mad dogs of SOLDIER, and had even done so himself when needed.

"Where is Sophie? I'd hoped to badger her about her apparent lack of survival skills." Genesis flung himself into his chosen seat, an overly plush chair.

He'd had a decent argument over the fact it was BURGUNDY, not red, and was the finest piece of furniture to grace Sephiroth's apartment. Sephiroth himself had been startled when he realized the thing swiveled, Genesis using his toes to make sure anyone he argued with stayed in his line of sight while he lazed about in it like an overgrown house cat. Sophie had taken to using it, spinning around until she felt sick.

He wondered why he'd been chosen to be surrounded by such strong personalities. The kind way to say, childish.

There he was, thinking of her again. Perhaps, that wasn't unusual. She'd been his companion for years, his lifeline to sanity while deployed. Her letters kept him aware of the fact there was life away from the days of blood.

Genesis cleared his throat, prompting, brows quirked in impatience. Always so impatient. "I left her with her friend."

Genesis scoffed, throwing his whole body against the chair, sending a wry look at Angeal. "Oh, sure. YOU willingly left her without SOLDIER protection." Even Angeal had a soft curve of his lips, thinking it impossible. Was he truly so predictable in his movements, the pattern of how he dealt with his friends?

"The Turk Cissnei is watching them both, for now. Reno replaces her for the night watch."

Genesis stared. Sephiroth had taken the fork Angeal pressed into his hand, almost glaring at the food before him. His stomach revolted at the idea of even the smallest morsel. It wasn't an altogether peculiar sensation, nausea, but one he only felt after dealing with Hojo and another round of mako. It hadn't ever happened simply because of stress or anything normal people became sick over.

Logically he knew he could force the food down. It would be rude to Angeal if he didn't. So thinking, he pressed his fork down into a crisp potato, mentally bracing. A hand went over his, curling around his grip to stop the mechanical movement.

Angeal gave him a look of concern. "You don't look so well. You shouldn't force yourself."

Nerveless fingers released the fork, its clatter stopped by the older mans reflexes. He allowed his body to sag back into the comfortable arm chair, eyes closing again to blot out his apartment. Sophie had purchased this chair and couch. She'd purchased quite a lot for the apartment, dragging him around Midgar to gage taste. Her mark was here, it was everywhere.

Seeing Aerith had been wonderful. The true joy on their faces, the odd terror that mixed into Sophie's very being. What had she to be afraid of? Apparently, she had three monsters protecting her. Angeal, Genesis, and Sephiroth himself. Perhaps that was the fear. That her closest companion, and two friends, were genetically and ultimately not human anymore.

"Alright. What is going on?" Genesis had leaned forward, hands clasped between his legs as he stared Sephiroth down. "And don't try that silent act with me. I'll burn your blankets."

The dramatic male ignored the twin glares from both of his friends. "No. I've known you for years. And I've never seen this particular expression on your face."

"We're here, Sephiroth. Whatever you need, or have to say, we're with you." Angeal shot the other man a look, causing a shrug.

Sephiroth had been angry thinking Sophie intended to hide these things from him. It would be hypocritical, to perform the action. Still, now he recognized deeper it wasn't a lack of will to tell the things one knew. It was the worry of how to say it, to lessen a perceived blow. She'd been in this situation, and had tried her best. Never mind the instincts and voice whispering away she was wrong. His mother was Jenova, not some unknown woman named Lucrecia.

She'd the right to be afraid of him, now. To be afraid of all of them. Even then, he'd seen the aborted moves to touch him, make contact. Seen and ignored her too wide eyes, forlorn and tired, as he fled the scene like a coward. An understanding, despite the circumstances.

I wish you'd stay.

I have to go.

Genesis cleared his throat pointedly, ignoring Angeal who scolded. Sephiroth let it galvanize him. He was a SOLDIER. He'd murdered countless, claiming lives at the behest of his employer whether they were children or adults. Reports would not quell him.

If the two noticed him slipping into his persona as the general, ethereal and untouchable, they didn't comment. "Project S, and project G."

Aerith dragged Sophie to her home. She kept up a steady stream of chatter and energy, all to see small smiles and laughter from her friend. The girl seemed wrung out, washed in thoughts and guilt.

Aerith knew about too many thoughts. Since the planet had really begun speaking to her, feeding images into her brain, blurry and convoluted, she'd had too many thoughts. It had taken a lot to carry on in those times.

In a drawer inside her small, precious room, were crinkled letters and small trinkets she adored. Fingers ghosted over those letters, finding comfort in the words printed on paper, whenever those thoughts ate away.

Elmyra had taken a look at the two of them. The instant recognition flared in her eyes. Of course, everyone knew who the Shinra family were, since they cropped up every day in the news or in magazines.

"I'm home!" Aerith chirped, practically forcing Sophie into a chair. The girl huffed a tad, grumbling when Aerith flicked her. "And look who I found."

Elmyra, bless her soul, didn't miss a beat. "Another stray cat in the mix. You came at the perfect time. Dinner is almost done. Hope you're hungry."

"We're starving, right?" Aerith nudged Sophie, who seemed to realize her surroundings.

"Yes, absolutely! I'm sorry for the inconvenience." She gave a wide smile to Elmyra, odd looking with the way her eyes were red and swollen.

Elmyra waved it away. "Not at all. The more the merrier."

Dinner wasn't necessarily a lively affair. Aerith recognized Sophie had slipped into a mask, one she donned easily for the public when needed. Her smile was the practiced one she saw on the television, not the genuine one that made her so beautiful. She hated it.

As much as she understood it. Sophie was a perfectly charming houseguest. Impeccable table manners, easy conversation. A fail safe she could slip in to when needed, her best friend hiding.

She even helped Elmyra clear the table, insisting on it, despite the fact she'd probably never cleared a table in this life. Aerith did the dishes, as usual, talking brightly with her mom and friend.

It was after, when she pulled Sophie upstairs and into her room, that the façade dropped away, leaving the raw little girl behind. Aerith cooed and used soft touches, maneuvering the girl into a pair of spare pajamas, pressing her into the bed.

It had been years. Somehow, she'd been worried Sophie would seem wrong there, huddled in the small bed, boxed in by the small room. The girl hadn't made a single complaint, blending in even with the rustic scenery. Her arms wrapped around Aerith as they used to when they were children.

"It smells like flowers," she murmured after breathing deep.

"Yeah! I have a vase. I really love flowers."

"I know. This place is so different from the rest of the slums."

Aerith hummed. The moonlight was filtering through her window, dimming everything in its pale glow. Sophie suddenly chuckled, smile wry.

"I seriously want to know how you guys have an actual running stream."

Aerith giggled with her, fingers trailing through blond locks. "You know."

Her friend sobered up. "I do. Has… she ever warned you away from Sephiroth?"

"Not necessarily warned in the sense she told me anything. Just… I used to feel very sick, when he came around. I had to work to not run away sometimes."

"Why didn't you?"

She hummed. "He's my friend. And, whatever happens one day, I cherish all the happy times I had with him. And you."

Sophie fell asleep not long after. Aerith curled into the slightly taller girl, letting her arm settle over her stomach as she rolled over. She'd left the window opened slightly, to feel the breeze filtering in.

There were things she'd left out, just as she was sure Sophie had left things out. Absently, her fingers ran over her stomach. The cold feeling of steel echoed from where her fingers pressed, the way the blade scraped along her insides. The way breathing altered, in those last moments, seconds, as a living human being.

The planet had given her plenty, so much to be wary of. Aerith ignored them, choosing to believe that things could change. She wouldn't sit stationary to her fate. If it happened, of course, then it would happen. But there were differences, things that made the planet uneasy. It drew close to itself, it's lack of soreness jarring.

She eventually fell asleep as well, curling up under her blankets. Admittedly, the familiarity and nostalgia rolled through her, making it an extremely peaceful sleep for her.

The large, probably stupid looking grin wouldn't leave his face no matter what. His body thrummed with energy, making his leg bounce erratically.

The lobby was sterile, yet had touches of trying to look decently warm. The leather chairs were comfortable enough, fire cracking merrily away to give warmth. The Mako green still startled him when it flashed through the high glass windows. The reactors were constantly drawing the mako in, sometimes such an odd luminous to it that caused one to glance. More vibrant than the usual flow of liquid.

This was very, very different than what he was used to. His village hadn't been able to prepare for the busy press of the city, the way noise was constantly around. A sea of faces he didn't recognize, that didn't care if he succeeded or lost. If he landed in the gutter.

The split levels had confused him, as well. How many people had to be there, to be a top and bottom of the city?

Already he missed the air. The sounds of nature, the way breathing was clean. It wasn't something one thought about until they breathed air of a different quality. His lungs burned at the odd tang in the air, what another candidate helpfully told him was the heavy taste of mako. You got used to it, don't worry.

There wasn't any greenery he could see though. A whole city of metal and glass, surrounded by tunes of liquid green, bathing it in its dangerous presence. There had been a man, in the village he'd left. They'd pulled him from a pool of mako deep in the forest. He'd never been sane since then. Mako poisoning.

Despite the reservation that came with the sobering memory of that man, he'd let a nurse inject a small vial into his veins. Had felt the immediate burn of it, the way his body revolted. Nausea clung to him hours later. But he was hopeful.

Others who'd been injected hadn't faired so well. Some had passed out, or relieved their nausea. Others were muttering incoherently just as that man from the village. Mako poisoning, from the small dose that had been injected into them.

The nurse had corralled them all into this sterile room, face carefully placid as she took notes with a clipboard. Whenever one dropped, she calmly had them removed. Finally, after the two hours was up, she hummed softly, knocking on the sealed door. He watched her leave, before glanced back outside.

Moments passed, and he couldn't sit still anymore. His body revolted as he stood but he held fast, hand desperately gripping along the chairs back. The dizziness passed after a moment, and he forced his legs to move. Inch by inch, stumble by stumble. Until he could press his sweaty palms to the cool glass, forehead falling against it as well. Deep breaths to curb the lessening nausea.

He had no idea how long he stood there, listening to the groans of his fellow candidates, pressing against that glass and pretending he could focus on the city life outside.

The door swished open, the nurse coming back in with a few others. Happier nurses, who made rounds around them, offering them plastic cups of orange juice and a probably stale cookie.

Despite his sour thought, he took the morsel, surprised it was warm, like fresh from the oven.

"It might not seem like it, but it'll help." A kind nurse murmured to him, waiting for him to take the cup as well.

He sighed raggedy, forcing himself to take the smallest bite. Her face was nice, round and wide eyes. Spattering of freckles along the bridge of her nose. He managed a small smile for her, and she moved along.

"Pay attention please!" The main nurse he'd seen called to them all. "If your name is called, you have passed the initial test for SOLDIER class three."

His heart was pounding now. He listened to her rattle off names, saw the relief that came over the ones called. The way shoulders sagged and large smiles overcame the exhaustion.

"… Zachary Fair."

It was his turn. Zach felt that burst of pure pleasure in him, from getting the thing he'd wished for. Look out, SOLDIER trio of first class! Zach was in town, and he was gonna become the biggest hero there was!