Annnnnnd we're back. I hope this wait wasn't too long for yous!
I don't own anything, anyone or anywhere you recognise. Sapphire, along with a few others who'll crop up every now and then, are mine.
This just in; you guys are the best! JustAFemaleGeek, Guest, VocalVenom (for the last two chapters) and justme7777, thank you for all your stupendous reviews, it's a privilege to write for you lot! Can't respond directly to the guests, so below:
Guest, YES that's just what I was going for! I mean, not the almost making you cry (though it almost made me cry that I almost made you cry, like... do I say sorry or thank you?!) but that uncomfortable, eye-of-the-storm vibe between them both. Like... they both suddenly realise how much there is to unpack between them, none of it good really, and they just need the mundane distractions for a second. For me, Genesis making Sapphire's bed was such a surreal moment that it was actually uncomfortable. Is that weird? xD
justme7777, you're too sweet! I wouldn't still be writing if not for amazing people like you :D It's been a pleasure so far writing this story and the prequel, and there's lots still to come. Enjoy!
(Also good question about the VR rooms being on different floors in CC and FFVII! My guess would be they're two separate systems, not that they've magically jumped floors somewhere between the two games. A non-interactive one for the visitor-friendly area of the Shinra building to showcase their flashy propaganda, and an interactive one on the 49th floor for SOLDIER training exclusively. Would love to hear anyone else's take!)
...I had a sneaking suspicion last chapter (and the one before that, of course!) would go down well with you good folks! And after such a long time waiting, you know I'll be making the most of these interactions between Sapphire and Genesis. Goodness knows she's been waiting long enough for them. As have we all! :D
So let's wait just a little longer while we hear from someone else. I'm such a tease xD
Chapter 18 - Time for a Change!
"HEY!"
Yelping, the SOLDIER turned to the person who had yelled; an aggrieved Infantryman. "Holy— what?!"
"Shift's over," he answered simply, bumping fists with another faceless Infantryman who took his place by the door of the mako reactor.
Tilting her head up, Ash gazed in surprise at the sky, where stars impishly winked down at her. "Time?" she asked, urgency setting in.
"Twenty past eight— hey!"
"You'll write up the report, yeah?" After all, she had done the last three days' worth, just so her current partner would let her go sooner. Last time she'd do that. He didn't even have the decency to let her know when the shorter shift she'd bartered for ended, and nothing had happened anyway.
"That was the deal!" the Infantryman hollered at her retreating back. A little snarky, she noted, but they both knew Ash would have no qualms raking him over hot coals if he didn't do this bare minimum favour for her.
What a pain. She had intended on changing into something a little nicer for meeting up with the guys. Not that they'd care. If anything, they'd be confused for why she'd put in effort. Zack would never be seen in anything but his SOLDIER uniform, adoring the attention it got him. At least Will preferred to wear something different for a night out, but since his work uniform was a tailored suit, his dressing up was dressing down.
Ash just couldn't win. It was probably better that she didn't put in the effort, Zack would just decide it meant something that it didn't anyway, and the last thing she needed was to fuel that fire of his. Not that it needed any encouragement from her.
And at least summer had long passed. The chill of late autumn was a relief in the long hours of patrol duty, in the overbearingly warm turtleneck and the heavy trousers with enough material to wrap around her legs maybe three times over.
One thing she had not expected when becoming a SOLDIER was how much hotter her body ran. She'd spent her first month as a SOLDIER convinced she was coming down with something.
"Sorry I'm late," the brunette apologised to the pair once she arrived, the two boys already at a round table with a drink waiting by the empty chair. They greeted her happily, and before either could ask a question, she asked her own, "Do you seriously not overheat, Zack? I'm a broken record, I know…"
The blonde turned his head away to study something on the other side of the bar, as the porcupine-haired SOLDIER threw back his head and laughed. "You need to stop asking that! Shouldn't talk about how hot you think you are. Might start inviting the wrong sort of attention!"
Zack wiggled his eyebrows, laughing loudly after a moment. Ash sighed heavily, shaking her head. "Forget I asked. So, are we talking about work stuff tonight?"
"You know Zack," Will interjected wryly, his voice low. Her eyes happened to fall when he smirked at her in good humour. She decided he looked well (and stood out in present company) in his slim-fitted black shirt and dark denim jeans. "He'll just go on and on given half an opportunity."
The SOLDIER pouted, prompting a laugh from the other two. "That's fine. I won't talk about my next mission, with Angeal, in Wutai. I won't even mention that we're leaving tomorrow night."
Snickering, Ash quizzed, "Didn't Angeal want to come out as well? The last time he did was a blast!"
"We really took advantage of him…" Will guiltily buried his head in his hands. "I'll never be able to apologise enough for that night."
"Yeah, I think you'd still be throwing up if not for his miracle cure."
"You and me both," he groaned. "Next time he comes out with us, I'll be the designated… uh, sober guy."
"That's probably best," Ash agreed, before raising an eyebrow at the unusually quiet puppy across the table. "Zack, you can actually talk about work stuff," she offered with a chuckle.
Zack smirked weakly, "Yeah, it's not that."
"What's up?" the SOLDIER: Third Class and the Turk spoke, at the same time and with the same level of concern.
"You guys remember Commander Rhapsodos, right?" he asked hesitatingly. A tangible heaviness fell over the trio.
For all three, the name conjured up an image of a lean man in a red coat. There was another image that followed the Commander's, but instead of addressing that particular elephant, Will and Ash both nodded sombrely without a word spoken.
"Angeal's buddy," Zack tacked on limply, before clearing his throat. "Turns out, he's gone missing."
Will breathed a sharp gasp, while Ash asked, "What happened?"
"We don't know," Zack shrugged. "Angeal's taken it hard."
Frowning thoughtfully at the table, the spell of solemnity was broken when Ash decisively raised her glass and took a hefty swig. "Drink up," she encouraged, "we're not staying."
Holding out her glass, Will smirked with a twinkle in his eye and clinked her glass with his own.
"You guys…!" The SOLDIER: Second Class' change in mood from that simple gesture was like night and day. Zack pranced around the table and grabbed the two in headlocks, drawing a few curious glances from other customers. "I've got the best friends ever!"
"Zack, not so loud!" Will complained, cheeks and ears reddening as the rambunctious SOLDIER let them go before throwing back his own drink. With a half and a quarter of their drinks left on the table, the group made their way back to the Shinra building at the centre of the city.
"I wanna stop off at my room first," Ash requested, once they were on the elevator. "You guys can go on ahead—"
"We'll wait on you," Zack interrupted stubbornly. "That way we can yell at you if you're taking too long."
"Gee, thanks."
Ash's room was characteristically tidy, her two friends raising an eyebrow at each other with amused expressions at the sight of it. She dug through her wardrobe with precision before disappearing into her en suite bathroom. Zack flung himself onto her small bed, laughing about how he had missed the stiffer mattress he'd had in his Third Class days.
Will rolled his eyes at his friend's relentless positivity, and immediately forgot what he was thinking.
Eventually discovering that he wasn't being listened to, Zack asked, "What's up?"
"Nothing, just I didn't know Ash could— Zack, get up." The SOLDIER lay flat on his back on the bed, head tilted off the edge of the bed, and legs straight up against the wall.
Giggling, Zack nimbly rolled off the bed and onto his feet and looked over Will's shoulder. "Wow. Hey Ash, you draw this?"
Will cringed away at the shout so close to his ear, only to jump in fright when Ash all but appeared at his other side, now dressed in black leggings and a green jumper. With a smirk, the brunette shook her head. "Nah, street artist did this, an old friend of mine."
A furrow appeared in Zack's brow. "Uh. This doesn't look anything like you. Actually, she looks kinda—"
"Don't say it," Ash warned, receiving an uproarious laugh in return. Her mako eyes turned to the Turk, her former partner, and raised her eyebrows at how riveted he was to Riley's artwork. "So it's not just me, then."
Ash hadn't intended to show Will the lightly-coloured drawing Riley had completed, given that their mission was over, with no apparent consequences for the disappointing outcome. She had only kept it as a reminder.
A reminder of a target she had let slip through her fingers. A reminder of the lack of clarity she had been given, and of the pit in her stomach when she thought of how little she understood of Shinra's intentions with their target, who to Ash had not seemed like a villain. And a reminder of how, despite all that, she'd had a wonderful time in her pursuit of the unknown, with Will at her side.
Also, a reminder to never let Will be in charge of the transport. It was embarrassing enough to have to call Director Lazard to explain they'd missed their ride back, but his response had nearly convinced Ash to declare her resignation then and there.
She'd thought this… rumour, or whatever it was, started and ended with Zack. Now Lazard kne— thought the same! Horrifying. It made her wish Ciara, her one comradette-in-arms (a term Zack had coined that had unfortunately stuck) was back from fighting in Wutai already, to help Ash in a war that they actually stood a chance of losing.
"What?" Out of the loop, Zack looked between his two friends before squinting down at the drawing. "What am I missing?"
"The mission, a few months ago," muttered the Turk as he picked up the drawing with a light touch. "This matches the description we got from witnesses. At least, those look like SOLDIER eyes to me. And the hair, dyed, and matches the chocobo rider who passed us on our way back to Midgar."
"Check out the date," Ash pointed to the barely legible scribble on the bottom, "July nineteenth." She allowed a couple moments for that to sink in with the blonde before taking back the page. The SOLDIER set the drawing back on her kitchen counter before ushering her friends out the door and towards the elevator.
"So, over a week before we saw her travelling away from Midgar," Will calculated quickly. "So she really did make it to Midgar, and left too, without Shinra knowing. What could her objective have been?"
For a few tense moments, the pair contemplated what their target might have done, considering that she was significant enough for them to have been given free rein to pursue her for over a week. The lack of data in their mission brief became all the more concerning, now that they knew her mission (whatever it was) could have been a success.
The pair threw suggestions at one another, even as they strode down the corridor to Angeal's office. The lights were still on, confirming just how well Zack knew his tutor. The puppy bounded a few steps ahead, appearing as though he wasn't paying much attention to their discussion. That was proved wrong as the name of their organisation came up again, Will suggesting (outlandishly, in her opinion) that the subject could've had a secret meeting with someone who'd betrayed her in her past life, like some uninspired revenge movie plot, and they should check for any personnel disappearances in July.
Zack turned around, walking backwards, with a sudden realisation lighting up his mako eyes. "Wait wait wait, you're telling me there was another girl in SOLDIER? Since when? I thought it was just you and Ciara." They entered the First Class' office, Will waving sheepishly when he noticed the alarmed look Zack's tutor fixed the trio with. "And she's out for blood!" he declared, buzzing with excitement, not appeasing Angeal at all by the look of him.
Ignoring his latter statement for the sake of her sanity, the brunette agreed, "So did I. But all we were told before was, 'escaped test subject'." Ash air-quoted the words from the mission brief, glaring at nothing in particular.
A few heavy moments later, she noticed all three men staring at her in alarm. Blinking rapidly, she cleared her throat, fixating on her superior with a wide-eyed smile.
"Uh… hi, Commander Hewley. We're not intruding, are we?"
"Busy day?"
"Reasonably so," the ex-SOLDIER supplied after a moment, taking care to close the door behind him as softly as possible. "And yours?"
The raised eyebrow expressed more than his tone did. "I've barely stopped all day." By the roll of his eyes I knew my sarcastic drawl was as blatant as I felt it needed to be.
"Well you've earned your break for the evening, then."
A heavy pause, until I groaned and waved at the seat by my bedside. "Why are you just standing there, honestly…?" The barest curve of his lips was all the response I got, as he left his knightly post by the door and breezed through the room to sit on the faded, ornate chair. Something about the way he sunk into it with an audible breath made me frown. "You look tired," I mentioned, trying not to sound as concerned as I felt.
Our mako eyes didn't meet, despite that mine sought out his. Instead, he looked me over. "You've been fed?"
With a withering sigh, I swung my attention to the window and the darkening violet sky. "Yes." Twice today I'd had unnamed, silent SOLDIERs come to my door, pass me a tray and leave me perhaps just as perplexed as they were. Sandwiches at lunch, three, each with different fillings (I'd left the egg salad), and fish on a bed of rice less than an hour ago. Simple yet filling meals, I was used to much more basic fare. "Thank you for that."
"I'll pass that on to the cook," Genesis offered quietly. His placidness was disturbing. He must've been exhausted.
Though I found it easy to be annoyed by my old tutor (as was always the case, to my scant recollection), it was equal parts difficult to hold onto that irritation. Especially when he just looked so tired. I hesitatingly mentioned, "You know, you don't have to spend time with me, after working all day. I don't expect you to."
Shadowed, vivid eyes narrowed at me. "Don't do that." And that was that.
Another silence followed, this one somehow lighter. I thought about what to say to make conversation. Genesis occupied himself with twisting in his chair, leaning against one arm and tossing his legs over the other. He propped himself up with his left arm, elbow on the arm of the chair and knuckles tucked under his chin. Getting himself into that position was punctuated with some uncharacteristic fumbling, enough to make me splutter with disbelieving laughter and shake my head. I hopped up from the edge of my bed, gesturing to it grandly. "Get up, let's trade."
His answer was an eventual, cool, "No."
"Okay," I accepted with a roll of the eyes, "then neither of us will sit on the bed."
Disgruntled SOLDIER eyes burned into me as I took my position, sitting with my back to the bed and at an angle that would make it very uncomfortable for him to look at me from his current position.
Some seconds later, satisfied SOLDIER eyes burned into him as he sat against the opposing wall, putting one of two pillows from the bed at his back. He grumbled about how I had changed very little, a statement that brightened my smile.
Noticing my happiness, Genesis' brow furrowed. "I find it slips my mind, that you are enhanced like a SOLDIER, like the rest of us. I don't quite understand why it is so easy for me to forget that."
His tone was contemplative, almost as if he was talking to himself. Even if it wasn't, I wouldn't have known what to say to it. I stayed silent.
A few moments later, he seemed to break out of his reverie. Not one to beat about the bush, he requested, "I suspect it might be made easier to recall if I had some further detail of your past three years."
"There it is," I declared, as if it had been two hours of niceties and beating around the bush instead of the two minutes it had been since the man arrived. The smile I shot him waned over a few moments, as I drew my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. Uncomfortable, but comforting.
I sighed as I thought. Genesis' expression didn't change, one of attentiveness and patience.
"I… my head's still so muddled, that you probably know what happened better than I do myself." After all, I had spent the last year thinking that I had been a SOLDIER, and that I had been in captivity for a season, no more than a few months. I only discovered I had miscounted the passage of time by an entire year after arriving in Mideel barely a month ago. And only yesterday, I found out that my time as… a guest of a certain professor included that extra year, and the entire one previous.
For half a second, I resented my old tutor for leaving me all day (after a brief, quiet breakfast) to chew on all of that. The heavy, queasy feeling of dread in my stomach, which had miraculously vanished with his knock on the door and gentle call of my name, returned with a vengeance.
Two years. What had he done to me? How was I free? What had he done?
Noticing Genesis' squinted eyes in a pained expression, I suspected one or two of my inward speculations might've become less inward. I snapped out of my musings, as manic and fearful as they had been all day. With a deep breath, the feeling ebbed away, as I focused on the comfort of having a friend close by. He cared, judging by his deep frown and furrowed brow. "What happened to you sickens me. I know for myself what Hojo is capable of, and that it never occurred to me as a possibility sickens me all the more."
The ex-SOLDIER moved, leaning forward from the wall. His right hand rose from his lap, and reached out. In a slightly stilted movement, after a moment's pause, it fell to rest on the floor between us.
I swallowed thickly, to force my heart back down from my throat.
I hadn't been able to cope with that sort of gesture in a dream, let alone in flesh and blood.
"The only thing I want more than to escort him to a swift end," I smirked weakly at Genesis' blunt malice, which even pretty words and phrasing couldn't mask, "is to help you in your understanding of all that has taken place."
So I divulged, with scant detail, the events of the last two years and ten months as I recalled them.
Nothing of experiments or of the professor's haunting presence, because I couldn't recall much of what went on anyway.
So thick a gloss over the dreams that had kept me sane during that time, that it might as well have been entirely fabricated. But when the truth is that I dreamed exclusively of him, I felt it was in (my) our best interests not to practice complete honesty.
With no small amount of embellishment, I spoke of my daring escape as if it had been from the Shinra building itself, and not a tube in a cave under a house in the backend of nowhere with absolutely no—
"Oh! I totally forgot! There was another guy in the manor too," I shook my head, disbelieving how I could've forgotten something quite so unusual.
"You were able to get past him?" Genesis asked, confusing me for a moment.
I shook my head in the negative, "No, another… someone. I don't know who he was. I assumed, another…" victim? "…survivor."
Auburn eyebrows rose in interest. Or judgment, I couldn't really tell. I mean, I'd forgotten about him.
"He was in a coffin," I explained hesitatingly, "and seemed really… troubled. He wouldn't let me help him. Maybe I couldn't have, but… I also tried to stop someone else from helping him too."
Glaring at the floor, I couldn't believe how uncaring I'd— "He sounds unhinged."
Startled, our eyes met. My own wide, his… unbothered. The edges of his lips were turned up, just slightly. A finger twitched in my direction, on the gloved hand that remained on the floor between us.
"You were right to leave him there to get yourself to safety. And you were right to convince a bystander not to get involved with an individual who appeared both potentially dangerous and lacking in self-preservation."
My gaze fell to the floor once more, though with a lot less loathing. "Thanks," I mumbled, appeased, before launching back into my tale with gusto, happy to tell from when the adventure really began.
Skipping over my slow recovery in preference of anecdotes of mine and Lana's many witty repartees. Weaving a tale fit for an action movie around my trek through the mountain. With too much pride, I pushed up my sleeves and pointed out a few jagged scars on my upper left arm, gained from an encounter with a huge insectoid creature.
There was something icy about how my old tutor's eyes had narrowed then. It felt dangerous, and probably best left alone. But we were starting fresh, and I was going to be brave and keep us moving forward. "What is it?"
"Your shoulder." He hadn't looked away from where I had rolled the sleeve back down. My subconscious noted that must have meant someone else had seen to my wounds after the fighting outside Banora, and possibly that they hadn't been very thorough.
Sensing that prolonged scrutiny was on the cards, I decided it'd be easier to remove the hoodie altogether; still crusty with faded blood and probably a health hazard, but even though I didn't feel the cold much anymore I liked it for its softness. The hoodie was fired over my shoulder, and I twisted to present my shoulder for his inspection, squinting down at it myself as the first I'd thought to examine it in a number of days.
I remembered (without the sudden loss of balance I often suffered, thankfully) how the train had spun. How I had been thrown from my seat, curling protectively yet fruitlessly around a small leafy plant, and came to land against hard, searing metal. How I had lain there, unable to react, or move, or even think, until human-shaped shadows appeared, grabbed me by the ankles and pulled me from the wreckage.
More recently, I recalled a fight with a small pack of wolves outside Midgar, and the lucky shot one had landed on me, the deep gouges from the top of my shoulder to my underarm.
Now, I was a fan of scars to some extent; my romantic side decided that any scar was a lesson to do better, while my clinical side acknowledged that a scarred wound was indication that my body was strong enough to recover from a dire blow. And aesthetically, they could look awesome.
Unfortunately for me, the result of both of these incidents was aesthetically not awesome. Uneven, bumpy, dark red skin was scored with three long, tapering scratches, still a dark pinkish-red in contrast to the smaller white ones below.
They had taken quite a long time to heal. I hadn't rested very long in Midgar, spending most of my time disposing of pests and trying to scrape together enough gil to tide me over, and the wounds had festered in the muggy heat and dirty physical labour, despite my best efforts to keep them clean. I had stopped applying bandages (or strips of ruined shirts, as most people would call them) out on the road when that SOLDIER and Turk pair had pursued me, having me reconsider my priorities and decide that freedom was worth a possible infection. Fortunately I'd had the time to rest and keep them clean before crossing the sea to Mideel.
A shadow fell over my old tutor, his demeanour turning ever more sinister. I watched him closely, understanding. The skin on my shoulder seemed to prickle with the attention, painful like the stabbing rush of blood to a limb that had been cut off from circulation.
"I was fortunate, I guess," I began, the sardonic tone I adopted cutting in the tense silence. "I figure if I didn't land on my shoulder, or if I'd been stuck in there a little longer, I'd be… a little worse for wear."
No response from the deserted SOLDIER. His eyes were hooded and his frown heavy.
I ran my fingertips over the red, puckered flesh. Carefully, to avoid the scratches, where the tingling was more of a burning sensation. "I don't really feel anything there, unless I'm pressing down hard." Shaking my head after a moment of thought, I clarified, "Well, that's not totally right. Sometimes I get these phantom sensations, like pins-and-needles, sometimes just a dart of pain. Otherwise, it's totally fine. I was really lucky." If I said it often enough, maybe I'd convince myself.
Genesis met my eye then, his almost-glare suggesting he wasn't buying what I was selling. "You were the target, you were taken."
"Seven people died," I retorted dully.
"They got closure." The bite in his voice knocked me for a loop. My mind froze with a record scratch. Genesis leaned his head back, glowering over my shoulder, but he looked more tired than angry. "I had your sword."
Then time froze altogether. My sword?
He turned his face away, perhaps to look out the window, perhaps just to hide behind his hair. He always seemed to turn to his left when he was looking away, leaving his hair to fall over the right side of his face. "It seemed so peculiar. Every person, whether living or dead was accounted for, except you. Nothing but your sword was left. And as your tutor, it fell to me."
"I'm glad," I said, almost without thinking. I turned my gaze to the window as well, admiring the cliff face that almost bowed around the factory, as if the area had been carved out of the rock. "You'd have kept it safe, I think," I tacked on.
The ex-SOLDIER nodded. "Only Angeal and I knew of its whereabouts."
Wow. He had taken that seriously, hadn't he? "I suppose it's in the Shinra building?" I asked, not accusatory but resigned. I was under no illusions, not like yesterday; his two-years-presumed-dead student's sword would be the last thing on his mind when he decided to defect. From peripheral vision I could see him dip his head in a confirming nod. "I'll forgive you if you get me a new hoodie."
When the silence went on for a few moments longer than I expected, I glanced his way. He was looking my way, almost looking perplexed, one eyebrow raised and one corner of his lips turned up in a smirk. "I'll do you one better," Genesis eventually offered.
I'm sure my own face reflected his in its former confusion as he pushed himself to his feet. The man let out a satisfied sigh as a few joints cracked, arms stretched over his head and knees locked. Almost catlike, except a lot more grumpy.
Genesis looked down his nose at me, still sitting on the floor. He huffed a breath as he took in my (equal parts a-mused and be-mused) expression. "Come on then, no time to lose," he spurred.
That same gloved hand appeared between us again, outstretched, palm facing upward. And suddenly I was on top of the world, wind vicious at seventy storeys up, surrounded by dark polluted skies and creaking iron railings, and he stood before me, waiting. Even as my heart thumped, almost pained, I wondered whether he would pull me too harshly, or maybe even let me drop back onto my rear end.
I reached out my hand to meet his, his moving to grasp mine halfway. My fingers curled into warm leather, not as bulky as I might've expected, and his thumb fell over my knuckles. With heart-breaking familiarity, my old tutor pulled me to my feet, exerting just the right amount of pressure not to over- or under-balance.
Breathless and overcome with emotion, I couldn't help but ask, "And you're certain I was never a SOLDIER?"
If Genesis noticed how profoundly I was affected by that simple gesture, he didn't let on. Affixing me with a longsuffering look, he – rather ungentlemanly, I decided – left the room without saying a word. He left the door open though, which I took as an indication to follow. Begrudgingly, I did so.
We walked in silence. There was an oppressive aura throughout the whole factory. While the few SOLDIERs we met didn't spare Genesis or myself a glance, carrying on about their business, I was certain their attentions were nowhere else as soon as we'd walked past.
My old tutor had waxed lyrical of the valiant individuals in his army who had seen right from wrong and abandoned Shinra's fight. I didn't doubt that to be the case (how else would they have ended up here?) but my brain refused to mesh his idealism with the vision of one beating down on innocent civilians. All I could comfortably credit them with now was that they were not currently hostile towards me.
So I kept a wary eye on them and kept close to my escort, until we emerged from the floodlit factory floor and into the inky blackness of a late autumn evening. Immediately, they were forgotten.
For the first time, it occurred to me that I wasn't being kept as a thinly-veiled prisoner. A gust of a breath escaped me, as I stood still and gazed into the twinkling dark overhead.
The hair on my arms stood upright, the skin there turning to goosebumps.
"Sapphire?" Genesis called, and that didn't help. He stood a few steps ahead, half turned to look over his shoulder at me.
"I'm okay," I answered his unspoken question, "just got a little chill."
I spun on my heels to take in the once-abandoned factory. The cliff almost seemed to curl around every wall but the front, one peak protruding out far enough that you could jump from it and land on the roof. It reminded me of another big building that I had once been held prisoner in. I decided the fondness I felt for the Shinra Manor was too odd to mention, so instead as we walked away from the factory, I picked up the story where I had left off.
Genesis was almost reverently silent as I tripped over words, trying to explain how astounding it was to see the miracle of human engineering at the rocket site the other side of Mount Nibel. That silence was quickly replaced by snickers and amused interjections when I spoke of the rambunctious engineering lead and his painfully-sweet assistant.
I tapered off on my retelling of the stormy drive to the ocean, because I could see Gillian's house. Like all the others in the small village, the lights were off, despite it only being…?
"What time is it?"
Thoughtfully, the ex-SOLDIER answered after a moment, "Around half past nine. Why?"
"There's no lights on," I pointed out, perplexed. "Pretty early for the whole village to be tucked up in bed, isn't it?"
Genesis sighed, always a good sign. "I'm afraid there's no one here."
Uh. What?
"You saw what happened. Too many of my SOLDIERs decided for themselves that the way to avoid Shinra's notice was to instil fear in the villagers. They all fled their homes."
My breath escaped me, why hadn't this occurred to me already? Sorrowfully, I looked from house to house, straining to remember every inhabitant. Though I didn't feel ready to look at Genesis – the man partially to blame in my mind – something in his voice assured me he was anguished by what had taken place. It wasn't my place to tell him off for something he was already beating himself up for.
"That's why I've been so busy," he went on to mention, as I squinted up at the pulled curtains of Gillian's room. She never even had them open during the day, so I didn't know why I looked. "The abandoned factory seemed like a safe place for us, on paper. But this place isn't ours, and by our actions we have taken homes from people who earned them, by living honest lives. I want for us to leave, as soon as possible, and hope that those people can return and continue living as they had before, without fear."
I supposed that was all he could do, but it didn't seem anywhere near enough. "I hope so too," I agreed neutrally, forcing my eyes away from Gillian's house. Given all that had happened, I was sure she'd have left Banora, though she had probably left last, stubborn as she was.
In the now eerie stillness at the centre of town, our walk resumed at a faster pace. We sped through the village and up the hill that I knew led to the apple orchard, as I continued my story a little more softly in the oppressive quiet. Though we didn't go very far. "Right here," Genesis instructed, waving his hand to the right.
Confused, I asked, "Uh, why?"
Deigning not to answer, he strode forward. The Banora White tree, one far larger than any I'd seen in the orchard (must've been twenty feet at least), arched over the road so perfectly that I had decided the road must've come after. Genesis stopped beneath, and plucked a lush purple apple from the highest branch he could reach. He cradled it so gently, as if he was handling a plum instead of an apple.
Though I was flattered when he held it out to me, I shook my head. "No, thank you. I'm more of a pineapple person, to be honest."
Genesis genuinely looked like he was re-evaluating his entire impression of me up to that point, and not for the better. "You know I was the founder of a business to sell these as apple juice, don't you?"
Oh yeah, those newspaper clippings on proud display in Mideel. The whole reason I came here. "And?"
"Simply curious," he brushed off, and walked on in the direction of the outrageously massive house farther ahead. The house that I was just now figuring out was probably his.
"Why did we come here again?" The thought of stepping into Genesis' home was… something.
"For your hoodie," he helpfully supplied, walking up to the window nearest to the door. I approached hesitantly, keeping a wide berth like a curious yet skittish fawn. The SOLDIER reached into the planter beneath the window, ignoring my objection to him upsetting the flowers, and produced a key. "Come on," he threw over his shoulder, as he opened the door and disappeared into the house.
Taking one last uneasy look at the imposing height of Genesis' old home, I followed on tiptoe.
Between the ceilings that reached high above and the stunningly large windows, the house appeared even more spacious and opulent on the inside than it looked on the outside. The décor was mostly monochrome; white and off-white with splashes of charcoal grey, but with the floors and bannister a rich dark wood.
"This place is fancy," I breathed in the dark stillness, hunched as if to take up as little space as possible. I migrated to the middle of the foyer, as far from everything as I could get. The redhead had vanished, but soon reappeared on the opposite end of the foyer, opening the door to whatever room he'd entered just wide enough to get through and closing it swiftly behind him.
Genesis raised a brow, before rolling his eyes at me. "You're worse than Angeal. Follow me." He breezed past me to dart up the stairs, taking three at a time.
"Are you sure?" Eyeing the delicate bone-white vase on a dark wooden side table by the staircase, I pursued him hesitatingly. "I can wait—"
Directly overhead, he looked down at me from the landing. "Yes," he answered simply, before disappearing from sight once more. "Hurry up!"
I made it to the top of the stairs without knowingly damaging anything I couldn't afford, and followed him into an elegantly decorated bedroom. It was sprawling, with a bed size I could only guess the term for, with more furniture in the form of bedside cabinets and dressers than I could comprehend.
My eyebrows rose at the extravagance of it all, reaching out to twirl the tassels on one of eight cushions (not even counting pillows), all puffed and perched in exactly the same way on both sides of the bed.
"Seriously, this is a spare bedroom?" The lack of personal decoration, despite the twice-as-big-as-main-bedroom size, meant it had to be a spare. Unless rich people didn't have personal stuff. Pfft.
"Once, this was my bedroom," Genesis corrected, as he searched through a section of the built-in wardrobes.
Ah. Foot, meet mouth. "It's…"
I trailed off, deciding I was in dangerous territory no matter how I finished that sentence. Genesis huffed, an unconvincing attempt at a laugh. "Different, to how I had it," he offered. I accepted that with a nod, silently deciding not to talk any more about it.
He turned back to me with a bundle of clothing in his hands. Approaching the bed, he presented each item side by side.
"These were mine, before I joined SOLDIER. Take what you like." As if he could read my mind, he sent me a withering stare. "Don't argue."
I frowned to keep my mouth in check, before offering a tentative smile and examining each hoodie. I was amused that his colour scheme was more or less the same back then as it was now. One was black, two were dark grey, one dark brown, one burgundy and three red. All had some kind of designer logo and looked to be in near perfect condition.
One of the dark grey hoodies was zip-up and fleece-lined. With a contrite glance to the previous owner, it was on and zipped up to my chin in the blink of an eye. A little snug, but cosy. He was smirking as I nestled into the soft material, so I figured it was okay.
I liked the colour of the burgundy one, but since it was the only one of its colour—
"Stop making eyes at it and just take it, already," was my warning, sparking a laugh from me as I grabbed it up. Genesis gathered up the rest and literally tossed them back into the wardrobe. He cast a glance around the room, the slightest furrow in his brow. Eventually, he met my eye and tilted his head to the door. "Let's go."
Smiling, I followed him out and all the way back to the factory.