Alright, let's gooooo!

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.

Thanks to my lovely reviewers, justme7777 and Cheddar! Can't respond directly, so here:

justme7777, we haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet! Though I admit I had tons of fun writing about Zack, Ash and Will in the last chapter. Just teasing at that reveal, but not yet!
Gen's whole situation here is super complicated, morally speaking. I don't think there can be any doubt his actions are wrong, but he does have some (small) level of moral justification. We're... going to be looking into this a fair bit, so I'll stop here before I get carried away and write an essay xD
Saphie knows what she likes! Ha. Ooh, good question. I've always intended to stick to the Crisis Core storyline pretty much religiously (or as much as I could follow, at least), and change as little as possible. I never wanted Sapphire to be a Deus ex Machina because that'd be rubbish. However... I'm only human, and Crisis Core is a sad story. I reserve the right to be inconsistent. With that being said, if I do change something to save some heartbreak (or the opposite) and it's even a little bit unbelievable, PLEASE shout at me by PM or review and keep me in check! Hopefully it won't come to that. I'll be reasonable. I think.
Thank you so much for your long review, it was such a treat to read and think through! :D Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Cheddar, wait no longer! Hope you enjoy chapter 19 :)

And the same to everyone, enjoy some more tasty Genesis and Sapphire interaction!

Chapter 19 - Just like Clockwork.

The following day was spent the same as the previous. I paced, I dozed, and I stared out through the window. SOLDIERs delivered meals at appropriate times, and waited until I closed the door to leave. A cold feeling rose up in me, despite the new hoodies. I was left feeling like a caged creature, like an exhibit.

With my mind often occupied (what had he done?) I could feel my nerves beginning to fray. Adventure was easy. Not thinking was easy. And now I was stuck here, with nothing to do but think. Stuck. Again.

Not stuck. This wasn't captivity, this was freedom. Sometimes… sometimes that slipped my mind, staring at four walls.

When Genesis visited that evening, a little earlier than the previous day, it had taken a while for that feeling to ease. I felt guilty about that. But it did eventually, aided by a second foray into Banora and into his vacant family home. This time I was bribed with a shower, and followed without a fuss.

Feeling a little closer to human, I had ambled down the stairs to meet him in the front room. My silver hair dripped onto my recently-claimed dark grey hoodie, as I wrapped myself in it.

Mako eyes met.

His eyes had shone in the setting sun, sat still as a statue, for long enough that my hand rose to push some of the shorter strands from my face. His gaze had darkened, his face shuttered from emotion, and the walk back to the factory had been accompanied by awkward silence and tentative small talk.

I hadn't been sure what to make of it, though my hopeless romantic heart sang with possibilities as I contemplated, back in my room once more. For all of a few seconds, before I started stressing about why exactly my mind went there.

Then I had spotted my reflection in the windowpane, and gently poked at my forehead, where a thin red cut was only just beginning to heal. Of course he'd been looking at that. Humiliated, I'd given it no more thought and buried my face into my pillow, unsure whether it was an attempt to sleep or to see how long I could go without oxygen.

General Sephiroth grunted, "So he's gone too." And Zack's heart stuttered. He turned to face the SOLDIER: First Class, still crouched over the Genesis copies.

"What? Wait, what does that mean?"

Zack knew what it meant. His gut clenched with the knowledge.

But it couldn't be. Sephiroth must be mistaken. Angeal wouldn't…

"It means Angeal has betrayed us as well."

And so life continued, the events of each day unchanging and undeniably boring. That is, until a week later. Another drab afternoon was interrupted when a knock came to the door.

Presuming it to be a snack or a drink, since it was only an hour after lunch (scrambled eggs on toast, a welcome reminder of the care I'd received in Nibelheim), I answered the call and opened the door. Two helmeted SOLDIERs stood there, guns in hand. Thankfully not pointed at me, but even still.

I nudged one foot backwards, aware that I'd have nowhere to run but still finding comfort in the action. "What's going on?" I asked warily.

"We've been instructed to bring you to the Commander," one answered, without malice from what I could tell. Marginally appeased, I nodded in assent.

The pair backed away from the door, the only one connected to the room, so I slowly exited my room and walked ahead of them, hands spread and raised to hip level. They instructed me where to go, and neither protested when I dropped my hands after opening a door, entering what I assumed to be Genesis' temporary office.

What little I'd seen of the abandoned wooden box factory, which I had mentally dubbed it some time ago, was filled with a frankly ludicrous number of mostly empty rooms; each without any distinguishing features that would indicate what function the room fulfilled prior to the army's habitation of the factory. This room was the first I'd seen with an obvious purpose, a break room for the staff I guessed. Besides the giant spooky grandfather clock, it had a couple sofas positioned opposite each other with a coffee table in between. A computer was the only real office… thing in the room.

"Wait here. I'll let the Commander know you've arrived," one SOLDIER said, leaving through another door. I sat down on the sofa facing the doorway, against the opposite wall. The other SOLDIER leaned against the doorframe, eyes obscured by the helmet but I didn't need two guesses to know where he was looking.

I didn't really understand why I was being treated with such suspicion. Genesis had assured me some time ago that I was to be treated as a guest, and given free rein to come and go. Apparently he'd only had a SOLDIER follow me those couple times I left the factory for fresh air in the last week in case I ran into trouble with the wildlife. Maybe since it was my first time around the factory. I wondered whether there was anything sensitive lying around, but then, why would there be? They were probably just nervous, given how I'd wound up here. Maybe some had been friends of those I'd—

DING!

I leapt out of my skin, making an involuntary, but it was just the grandfather clock. Chiming for… quarter past the hour? Was that really necessary? Good grief.

Catching the SOLDIER's snickering, I pouted. "Shaddup."

And then I heard footfalls, descending stairs. I was sure there were more than two sets. The SOLDIER peeled himself off the doorframe and left the way we'd entered. The second SOLDIER followed, without sparing me a glance.

Genesis caught my gaze immediately, and though he offered the barest smile, his expression was as unreadable as ever. He stepped aside, standing in the middle of the room, and from there seemed to be trying to look at me and the other person he'd had with him at the same time. Mako eyes flicked from me to the other person twice a second.

When the other stepped over the threshold, examining me with a stern look, my breath escaped me in a whisper of his name.

Angeal.

I wasn't sure whether he looked exactly as I remembered, or if my frayed, blurred memory was simply being overwritten by a clearer image. Worry lines, light scruff on his chin, broad jaw and neatly-combed dark hair. I pictured how he would look smiling, entire countenance lightened, but I wasn't sure if it was recollection or imagination.

He looked like he spoke, but I couldn't hear what he said through the roaring in my ears.

Clearing my throat, I uttered, "Sorry?"

"Who are you?"

The sword he held twitched in such a way that I knew he wasn't joking in some cruel fashion. I supposed that was fair. The last few years had not seen as significant a change to his appearance as it had to mine.

Risking a momentary glance at Genesis, who had raised an eyebrow, I laced my fingers together on the table and took a moment to consider how to answer, my mind sluggish.

I had given it some thought before; what sort of witty saying I could throw someone's way, have them laugh in disbelieving glee before we came together in a hug. This felt a lot different than in the thousand times I had pictured it. Maybe because I hadn't really been able to see their faces.

When the grandfather clock chimed once more, I realised that taking this long to figure out how to say something so simple was cruel. Angeal was very on edge. When I once again jumped out of my skin at the sound, and out of my seat, he had receded a step and raised his sword towards me.

Genesis eyed it carefully, stood within arms' reach of the weapon, but didn't move. He trusted his friend not to react violently.

I wasn't as certain, because I was a stranger to the man, so I raised my hands submissively, edging out of the booth to stand comfortably. To his suspenders, I hesitatingly introduced myself, "My name's Sapphire Amell. Genesis used to teach me, back when I was a Cadet in Shinra, a couple years ago."

Incapable of moving even an inch, I waited for something to happen. My heart pounded. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of my neck. And the pendulum on the grandfather clock seemed to swing at a quarter of the pace it had before.

Finally, movement. Angeal lowered his sword, his head turned to Genesis at his left. "What is this?"

I didn't recognise his voice then. It was low, and deep, and like flint, cutting. It was threatening.

"This is the truth," Genesis didn't hesitate to answer the question that hadn't sounded like a question. "I understand it seems unlikely, but you cannot think I would lie about this," he raised an open palm in my direction, as if presenting me to Angeal, "about her."

While I focused on not getting flustered by the burden on his final word, Angeal remained resolute and stony-faced. "How." Another demand for an answer, rather than a question. I risked a glance to see he was looking at me again.

I let my hands drop to my sides, where they clenched into fists, as I tried to psych myself up. "When the train—" I stopped to swallow, the meagre mention of the word casting me off-balance. Curling my toes, I wetted my lips and continued, "I… I was dragged, from th-the wreckage, and… I was brought back to Midgar, and… kept. In the labs, I mean."

My delivery left some to be desired, but judging by how Angeal's visage transitioned from wary into dark acknowledgment, I did an alright job. Without a response, I continued a few moments later.

"I was moved, somewhere else, and I broke out. Took a little while to recover, and—"

"Enough."

The harsh interruption had my voice dying in my throat. My eyes fell to study his SOLDIER issue boots with great interest. They were in better shape than mine were.

"Show me proof."

I tried not to focus on the sting of that demand, as Genesis argued in my defence, "What more proof do you need? That's her. She doesn't remember everything, but talk to her, and you'll see."

Angeal wasn't convinced. He placed his sword to rest against the wall, an action I was cautiously hopeful for, until he folded his arms over his chest, all but glaring in suspicion.

"I know, this may seem… convenient, but really, Angeal. What could I possibly gain from fabricating my student's survival and return?" Genesis approached to stand in front of me, facing his friend and pleading for him to understand, his voice emphatic and his argument logical. "You could think her an actor, but what reward is there for me that justifies the effort? Perhaps my mind could have forsaken me, but of all things, why would it take this form? I can think of no argument more convincing than the truth, dear friend. I only ask that you not squander this opportunity, and speak to her for yourself before you make your judgment."

Bowing my head, I furiously scrubbed at my eyes. The harsh chiming of the grandfather clock disrupted the gravity that followed Genesis' argument.

I didn't look up, even as Angeal sighed a mighty sigh. "I need to go. I have something to attend to. But… I'll be back later, and I'll speak with her. Alone."

"That's all I ask," Genesis spoke with a familiar teasing lilt to his voice. Between silver strands I could see Angeal pick up his SOLDIER issue sword. "I'll walk you out. Don't forget your sword," the redhead dryly commented, as Angeal turned to leave. As if that wasn't threatening enough, turning his back gave me an eyeful of the sword on his back, about as broad as he was—

Another dark-haired boy, a Cadet, hefted a broadsword that was far too heavy for him, a challenging glint in sky blue eyes—

The memory spiked through my head, of someone who I… didn't know. My heart throbbed in conjunction with my temples, as my mind raced through everything I could remember about my time in Shinra.

It was hopeless, though. So scrambled was I that any face excepting Genesis' was blurred, and every experience marred with a shifting cast of nameless characters. The memories I'd held fast to, the clearest, were of my time in SOLDIER. And I hadn't even made it into SOLDIER.

How could I speak to this man, this stranger, about who I had been? He remembered her better than I did. I didn't know her at all.

"Sapphire?"

Clenching my jaw, and discovering that I'd sunk down to sit on the arm of the sofa in the throes of my existential crisis, I put on a brave face to blink at the one person I remembered. "Sorry, I never heard you come back," I croaked.

Genesis didn't say anything for a few moments, pausing his cautious approach by the computer desk opposite me. Under his scrutiny I felt exposed, but his palpable concern was touching. "Are you in pain?"

Startled, a laugh sprang forth. He seemed startled, so I shook my head, hurrying to explain, "Sorry, just I'd normally expect people to ask if I was okay, not… in pain. Do I look that bad?"

"That's a dangerous question," the ex-SOLDIER gently teased. "No, but you're as white as a sheet."

Driving my toe into the floor, I huffed, "Well, I guess it was time for me to head back to my room anyway."

"All that awaits you is a sombre morrow, no matter where the winds may blow." When my befuddled expression didn't change after a few moments of stilted silence, he sighed exaggeratedly, before offering the slightest sliver of a smile. "You don't have to go. You're not a prisoner here."

I offered a weak smile in return. "Well, yeah, but… Angeal's gone, so until he gets back, I'll just be… waiting."

Genesis looked put out. I'd call it pouting if he wasn't, well… him. "You'd rather wait on your own?"

My brow furrowed, surprised, and a little hopeful. "I thought you'd need to be getting back to work," I stammered.

Mako eyes didn't waver from mine, narrowed in thought. "You want me to go?"

Be brave, Amell. No reason not to be honest. "No, actually."

"Well then." He spoke dismissively, but I didn't imagine the quirk at the corner of his lips.

My mind spun, straining to come up with a conversation topic, now that I knew we'd be waiting, together.

What topic? Something light, but relevant. Something for him to talk about and for me to ask a question every now and then, while I regained my bearings. (Something that wasn't poetry.)

"I don't remember too much about Angeal," I admitted, finding my topic and hoping to weave my way into a one-sided conversation. "I know that you and he were close, though. Wait, does this mean he changed his mind about staying with Shinra? I know you said he had too much honour to abandon SOLDIER, what happened? And how did he find you here, did you leave him a message, or did he figure it out some other way? You grew up here, so did he know— ah! Is that what you meant when you said I was as bad as Angeal before, in your house, he's visited you there before?"

Despite himself, the redhead was smirking, chuckling. I abruptly stopped speaking, self-conscious.

"What?"

"In many ways, you haven't changed. I certainly recall rambling, tireless speeches, much like that," he wistfully divulged. That… actually put my aching heart at ease, just a little. "I'm not sure which question you'd prefer me to answer first, but; Angeal remains undecided. He has ties to Shinra that are not so easily broken, unlike myself."

When he lapsed into pensive silence, I dared to ask, "This whole reunion thing, with me and Angeal; it wouldn't happen to have ulterior motives, would it?" Angeal must've thought so, if he genuinely thought I was a, what, a con artist? Genesis blinked owlishly, which as good as answered that one, prompting a weak breath of a laugh from me. "You're shameless."

His black shoulder pauldrons rose and fell in a dismissive shrug. "Regardless. I didn't leave him any messages, he found me. Or, more accurately, I found him. One of my SOLDIERs spotted him and sent word back to me."

"He knew you'd be here?"

"Not at all, Angeal came to Banora for his own reasons." The former SOLDIER surprised me by stepping closer, to sit on the sofa opposite mine. I quickly followed suit, sliding down the arm of the sofa to sit properly. Sensing he was about to tell a story, I bit my lip in anticipation. "Myself and Angeal grew up here, in Banora," he began.

Struck by a sudden realisation, I declared "Oh!" before realising that I had done exactly as I hadn't wanted and interrupted Genesis. Cheeks warming, I pressed my lips together and laced my fingers together in my lap, examining them closely. Looking up between strands of silver hair, the ex-SOLDIER had a prompting eyebrow raised, smirking but not unkindly. Taking that to mean 'go ahead', I dropped my gaze back down to my fingers and confessed, "The whole reason I decided to come to Banora was because I saw newspaper clippings in Mideel, from years ago. About you becoming a hotshot in SOLDIER, along with a barely-mentioned friend you grew up with. Maybe it should've been obvious that it was Angeal they were talking about but I never made the connection."

"Newspaper clippings…? That's what brought you, then?" I didn't dare look up at him, his lilting voice softened in gentle speculation. The ticking of the pendulum in the grandfather clock behind me became loud in the silence that followed, as I sat without a word, unsure if Genesis expected a response but unwilling to give one. Eventually, he set aside my interruption and continued, "Angeal came here not for me, but to visit his mother. It seems he is at least considering abandoning Shinra, and wanted to make sure she was safe."

"Is she?" My voice was stern at the reminder of the atrocities Genesis' army had inflicted on the poor villagers, only now making the connection that his and Angeal's families were included in those numbers. I had been in Genesis' huge, vacant mansion and never even thought to ask where his parents were, if not there. I hoped he'd taken care of them before everything happened.

Our eyes clashed, both blue and mako green, both sharp but eager to soften. "Yes. She is under my protection, and in fact is the only person still residing in the town."

Surprised but appeased, I nodded in approval. "Do you know why she chose to stay, and not leave with the rest of her neighbours?" One person staying behind, to be honest Gillian came into my mind's eye. The older woman had as good as shoved me out the door when I spoke of leaving, and would hear none of my arguments to flee.

I was meant to return to her, after assisting her neighbour out of town. I had taken my sword with me, because she said her son would have left one in the house that she could use in a pinch. I left with her neighbour, who had described her as prioritising honour above all.

Genesis had shook his head, but I paid no attention and sighed heavily. Another obvious link that I should've picked up on long ago. "Gillian's her name?" I didn't need to question, as the redhead's eyebrows rose. "She's the one who took me in, after…"

After I found your body outside Banora, with no pulse.

Ah yes, that stubborn little hallucination of mine that just wouldn't quit.

Had I told him? You must be joking. Very good reason right there not to be honest.

Swallowing thickly against my gag reflex as Genesis' complexion turned ghastly and his eyes glossed over, I squeezed my eyes shut and bent over my knees. "Sorry, I—"

"Don't," he instructed sternly from across the room. I shut my mouth as instructed, because my cosy new hoodie was at risk. "You don't owe me anything."

I scooted along the seat when he insistently pushed at my arm, easing himself down where I had been sitting. I squinted my eyes open to see he held a waste bucket in his left hand. His right found its way to rubbing along my upper back in an oval, a heavy press that was just shy of actually pushing me down.

My aching heart sang at the feeling, as my already nauseated stomach began to flutter with a kaleidoscope of butterflies. Who'd have thought comforting physical contact could've felt so… comforting?

And nauseating. Oof.

I remembered my grand entrance onto the rocket launch site, being hefted onto Cid's shoulder like a sack of potatoes after I was unwillingly reunited with my meals from earlier in the day. I supposed it wasn't too difficult to improve on that track record.

And then there was the guy at the beach of Mideel, who just yelled at me, then flirted with me; that was hardly better—

"You're not going to throw up, are you?"

I couldn't tell whether he sounded sheepish or disgruntled, but his question made me jump away. Without any conscious thought I'd suddenly been leaning against him, head against his shoulder, and no wonder he'd be disgusted because he was just trying to stop me throwing up, not trying to get thrown up on— "I'm so sorry, that was so weird of me, I'm still in shock and a little flustered and I just, I dunno what came over me, I wasn't thinking—"

"You're feeling better?" Genesis interrupted, unassuming. Clamping my mouth shut, I took a moment to assess how my stomach had settled (and how he suddenly looked more healthy and stunning and alive) before nodding mutely. "Good."

I squinted at him, suddenly confused. Was that it?

The corner of his mouth rose in a smirk. His eyes were warm. It seemed that was it, after all.

Genesis put the waste bin on the coffee table, and shocked me by leaning back on the sofa, lifting his right arm onto the back. My brain short-circuited, over-stimulated for the day and unable to comprehend what he was doing. So I asked with an eyebrow as high as my hairline, "Excuse me, what's this?"

"A generous, once-in-a-lifetime offer. What can I say, I'm in a giving mood."

Far too smug. Bad man. "And what is the offer, exactly?" Because I arbitrarily decided that Genesis saying the word 'cuddle' would be enough for me to accept his generous, one-time offer.

He raised an eyebrow, reflecting my own back at me, and otherwise didn't react. Darn. He held all the cards and he knew it. However could he have known, besides my inability to maintain eye contact, or the fact my cheeks were nearing temperatures never before recorded so far from the sun.

With a scowl, I insisted, "I'm accepting under protest." Genesis' smirk softened, which I decided was an eyeful I didn't need, so I looked straight ahead at the opposing sofa where he had sat before, as I perched myself beside him. The process of leaning back into the seat and into his arm was painfully slow, but out of necessity. The swarm of butterflies in my stomach seemed to have multiplied, and had also invaded the orifices of my heart. That couldn't have been a good thing.

His arm eased into place around my shoulders, gloved fingers only just brushing on the material of my borrowed hoodie. Biting the bullet, I let my head fall onto his shoulder pauldron, with all the subtlety and grace of a beached whale.

"Ow," I hissed, after I bonked my cheekbone against the hard edge of his armour. Why was he even wearing them, didn't they come off, did he always just expect some intruder to go slicing at his shoulders?

"You're an idiot," he ever-so-kindly informed me. I weakly glared up at him. My offense at the lazy insult was secondary to the tingling rush from my chest to the tips of my fingers.

I freely admit that I had always thought his voice was, uh… easy on the ears? But sitting so close, against him, I could hear how his words began as a rumble in his chest, lifting into the songlike tones and cadences I was accustomed to.

"Careful," Genesis intoned, softer. Unable to meet his eye, my eyes hooked on the safer option and watched his lips. "Your shoulder." Fingertips softly brushed patterns along my sleeve over my arm.

…Alright. I was in trouble, here.

"You could visit her, if you'd like." Who, what now? "Gillian."

My revelation came back to me in full force, as my eyes slid away to the wall. I reflected on Gillian in a new light, that of being Angeal's mother. She'd raised a noble, modest, kind man. A son any mother would be proud of. No doubt she had struggled to make ends meet, a notion I could relate to after losing my parents in my early teenage years.

Was it the struggle of living hand to mouth for several years? Perhaps worry for her son, a SOLDIER, who made a living fighting in Shinra's wars? What was it that had left her so heartbreakingly hollow?

We hadn't exactly got on well. I'm sure I was little more than a nuisance to her, and I didn't know how to help her with her solemnity while I fought against my own (over a hallucination, of all things). But I answered, "Yeah, I'd like that." Surely a visit from her son would lift her spirits, and maybe she'd find humour in the coincidence that had brought us together.

Silence followed, and why did the silence feel so much heavier than before? I shifted my position, tilting slightly away from him to lean more comfortably into the crook of his arm.

"So, what's the deal with dumbapples then? Never knew you were an entrepreneur as well as a SOLDIER."

Genesis' chest rose and fell in a chuckle, so I decided my mood-lightening change of topic was a success. "You're aware that the trees that produce dumbapples are native to this region?"

"Banora Whites," I recalled.

"Despite efforts some years ago, when demand exceeded the business' supply rate, transplanting Banora White trees in any different area was a failure. The trees won't produce apples anywhere but here."

"Won't?" I echoed softly, intrigued because I would have thought the more appropriate word would have been 'don't'. "You make it sound like they choose not to."

He hummed in approval. "Frustrating at the time, but it probably benefited the company in the long run. The produce being a rare commodity inflated the cost. The fickleness of the trees extends to more than location, however; they yield fruit at entirely random times in the year. Hence the same 'dumbapple'."

Genesis sounded almost fondly annoyed by the whole business. "Maybe in hindsight, starting a business selling something with 'dumb' in the name wasn't a great idea," I teased, grinning at the thought.

"Marketing agreed with you." I spluttered with laughter at his deadpan reply, imagining a younger Genesis in a fleece-lined dark grey hoodie, spitting feathers at a group of men in white shirts and ties, fighting valiantly for his brand of 'dumbapple juice'. The thought drew my attention once more to his right hand, the gloved fingers still barely brushing a pattern on the sleeve of the hoodie he'd given me. "Eventually I came around to the name Banora White apple juice, when the second group threatened to quit."

"Second group, really?"

He gently shrugged, jostling me only slightly. "I can be stubborn. Haven't you been paying attention?"

"As a rule, no." I received a vicious poke to the arm for that comment. "It always seemed like such a waste to me. Making juice from apples, I mean. Just don't get enough juice to warrant destroying a perfectly good fruit."

Genesis chuckled under his breath. "Angeal always said the same," he clarified when I made a noise of confusion. I tilted my head, intrigued by the coincidence. After a moment, he asked, "Were you poor, by any chance?"

My mouth dropped open, too surprised by the question to be offended. "Isn't that kind of rude?"

"I wouldn't know, I've never been asked that question." Smugness rolled off him in waves. I sighed and shook my head in exasperation, more at myself for being taken by surprise than for his cheek.

"I guess you could probably figure that out," I remarked with a roll of my eyes, before folding my arms, almost defensive just thinking about my blurred history. "I don't think my family was poor. We weren't rich, but we weren't lacking anything. Then…"

I trailed off, because there was a section of my life that I didn't talk about very much. The year or two I spent in my teens, having lost my home and my family, begging and doing odd jobs to make ends meet. Genesis wouldn't have known. I hadn't told him, and he wouldn't have cared to look into it after I was presumed dead, why would he?

But Angeal could have. Something in my addled head decided he was the type to care, to investigate. And he certainly would have shared that with Genesis. Would Angeal have found out, perhaps following my supposed death, if he tried to reach out to Cobalt's sister who had disappeared without a trace? But then how could that lead to the discovery of my parents' passing, or the time frame it occurred in—

…Did it matter? No reason not to be honest.

"…after my parents passed away, I lived on the streets for a while."

Genesis didn't react. He said nothing. It almost seemed like he was waiting for me to say it. He wasn't surprised.

"You knew already, didn't you?"

He offered a slight sigh, perhaps an attempt at sympathy, if a lousy one. "Angeal had intended to speak with them, and discovered your home abandoned. He sought after a forwarding address, but was instead told that you had lived there alone."

I was touched, and further saddened that the caring man was now so suspicious of me. "So that's how he must've found out, I was…" I trailed off, pressing my lips together. 'A girl' was the nice way to end that sentence. 'A liar' felt more fitting. Suddenly Angeal's scepticism and reluctance to believe in me felt more than justified; it felt almost inevitable. And here I was feeling sorry for myself, thinking I'd had it tough with his suspicion.

Genesis didn't deny my speculation, which was as good as confirmation. I sat upright, out of my cosy recline in the crook of Genesis' arm, and turned to face him. While his face was relaxed, his eyes were attentive as they met mine.

Hesitatingly, I gave an apology that was a few years too late, "I'm so sorry for lying to you and Angeal. You never should've found out the truth that way. Deciding I could handle things by myself was the dumbest decision I ever made."

The slight upturn of his lips might have relieved me, if he hadn't looked almost pained to do it. Seeing my frown, his eyes fell to his feet, stretched out beneath the coffee table and crossed at the ankle.

Once, I had worried that our short relationship (only a few months, where I had imagined years of interactions) would mean that my return would've meant very little to him. The look on Genesis' face now made me ashamed, because the opposite was true. And I had never once thought about how my disappearance might have affected him.

His world didn't stop when that train exploded, his or Angeal's. I knew that first-hand; the town I grew up in was destroyed, family and friends along with it. How would I have reacted if someone I'd lost just turned up out of the blue one day? Would I have let the passage of time dull my relationship with them?

"I'll do anything, everything, whatever I can to make up for it."

Genesis' expression didn't change. Or rather, what little I could see of it didn't change. Those nuisance strands of hair were in the way – how did I always end up sitting to his right?!

The only movement was a twitch of his fingers, which I read as an invitation to return to our previous position. I tried not to show any shock, and faintly smiled in relief at what I took to be silent forgiveness, before shuffling closer and sitting against him. Feeling brave, I lifted my feet up onto the sofa on my other side, leaning into his chest.

I was glad that we had settled back into this position. It meant he couldn't see my jaw drop in outraged curiosity when he eventually professed, "I knew before Angeal did."

"What?! How?"

Unfortunately, even facing the other way, Genesis' patent smugness was tangible. Though it seemed to wane as time went on, punctuated by the grandfather clock's persistent ticking. I had just thought to notice his right hand remained idle on the back of the sofa, not returning to rub distracting patterns on my clothing when he confused me further by saying, "From the letter you left for me."

I just barely recalled scribbling out a message for my tutor. I'd struggled to find the line between honest and too honest. I'd written so many drafts that I couldn't remember what actually went into the final message. "Uhh… did I seriously write that, like a full confession?"

Another pause, as presumably Genesis recognised that I couldn't actually read minds. "No. I recognised your handwriting."

My brow furrowed, both for his being able to recognise handwriting and for lack of recollection of any other notes I'd written. "I'll need more."

"The letter from your hometown," he prompted. "A letter you yourself wrote, to yourself."

"Yes, yes, alright." My flushing cheeks didn't really need the further mocking. "Wait. You read my mail?"

"I felt bad for it at the time."

"You don't sound like you felt bad."

"Well, since I discovered you were hiding something, I've absolved myself of all guilt."

"How noble. Wait, don't distract me. You recognised my handwriting?"