"Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory. Instead, forgiving what we cannot forget creates a new way to remember. We change the memory of our past into a hope for our future."

-Lewis B. Smedes

"You know, I don't blame them."

"Who?" I snapped out of a trance, the boat bobbing up and down across the inky ocean. We were well across the ocean now, the shore disappeared long ago into the black abyss of the midnight. Jofrey assured us he could drive his boat in the night despite Kathelyn's concerns. I wasn't willing to stay out in the open any longer than I had to and decided to take his word.

"Avalanche," he responded, "they have it right; Shin Ra needs to be put down like the rabid dog they are."

I didn't want to argue. This was his boat, his home, he told Kathelyn. He quickly went into how he came to live in the boat: trading his apartment in Junon for the boat, and he left it at that. Kathelyn didn't push, not wanting Jofrey to expect us to divulge our own life stories. I didn't believe he would have; he understood being paid in cash required some diplomacy on both parties. We asked him very little, spoke in short sentences, so he knew he would get little in return. The perfect relationship.

I didn't want to argue, but every relationship I ever had brought the worst out of me. I was persistent and obtuse -terribly annoying qualities. I didn't want to argue but something told me to push. "They are so alike Shin Ra. Mass murders. Taking out an ant with a bomb."

"Ha! You think Shin Ra's an ant?" His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. I honestly thought every miracle Shin Ra produced had some sort of autopilot so seeing Jofrey manipulate his boat so much surprised me. Jofrey seemed like the kind of person who wouldn't do well with something (or someone) else in control. "You're entitled to your own opinion."

The air went stale and Jofrey's eyes fixed on a horizon neither of us could see but we knew it was there. I had never seen a horizon so lost in oblivion before, not even when I was a child living in Junon. We knew it was there because we had seen it shimmering and blue; I wanted to believe, a creeping sense of dread filling me. Something a kin to falling asleep in the pitch black darkness of a cell.

"I think I'll head to bed."

He nodded in response. "G'd night."

Jofrey invited us to sleep in bunks below the deck. Kathelyn had already left for the night. When I walked down the short and steep staircase, there was still a light shining in one of the rooms. Perhaps Kathelyn just wanted some time to herself; now that she helped me escape, there was very little privacy for either of us. We forgot when either of us was in the bathroom and, being an older inn, there was no lock on the door. I would kick the door shut leading Kathelyn to apologize profusely. I was used to my privacy being revoked at a moment's notice, however, I was now trying to reclaim it. Hojo was notorious for his inconsistency with his subjects, just to twist them even further, until they broke -possibly another secret project of his. I highly doubt Kathelyn suffered a similar fate.

"Thought you went to bed," I caught her attention.

She took her ceaseless attention from the ceiling and was forcefully snapped out of her daze. "I was getting nervous out there." She laughed although I didn't understand. I was accustomed to laugh at other's jokes.

"It's the dark, isn't it?"

"It's so dark! I'm surprised he knows where he's going." Kathelyn laughed again.

She watched as I settled on the bottom bunk. "I know you like the bottom bunk."

"I used to tell you it was because I had to go to the washroom often, during the night. It was really because I was afraid of falling through."

She laughed. "Yeah, dad made it so I don't blame you."

"He was a good mechanic, to be fair. Remember when mom's tractor just lit up?"

"The one he spend nine months trying to fix? He may not have been such a great mechanic as you remembered."

"But he was persistent. And he cared."

Melancholically, Kathelyn replied, "that he did."

Dad, Kathelyn's birth father, wasn't as blameless as we painted him to be. Dad was such a loving human being who went out of his way to help his fellow person. But then there was the dad that drank and whose money ran out of his fingers like liquid. I remember Mom had to water down our milk and our Chocobos losing their feathers. Kathelyn always came to his rescue, especially after Mom died. She would search for him when he hadn't returned home in days and wash his face, caked in vomit. He would always thank her and gush about how good she was, his little princess. Dad loved us, but he also loved his hard liquor. I wonder if Kathelyn felt guilt?

"Kathelyn?" But she was already snoring and I wasn't willing to stir the pot when she desperately needed sleep. Kathelyn spent many nights fonding over me, sitting on the bed next to mine and monitoring each breath I took. I felt her there, in-between twilight micro-sleeps.

My micro-sleeps did nothing for my inexplicable exhaustion. Hojo made it a point to inject me with a cocktail only I would recognise, one that made me feel warm and floaty before I crashed hard onto the hospital bed. I would stare vacantly at the ceiling, wanting more and knowing I would but only on Hojo's time.

"Must be so difficult to be someone like you," I remember him saying to me, as I drifted into the void. I was so enthralled by the self-inflicted pain I caused as I meandered in and out of a burning barn.

I always would feel the heat, a heat so unbearably hot my mind instructed me to stay still and let it consume me. Kathelyn was unable to move my bonded feet, bonded to the soft dirt of our barn, straw strewn around set aflame. I still had the Materia in my hand when Mom picked me up, scooping me close to her ice cold chest.

She coughed a lot after that. To the point that blood would spray across our dingy wallpaper; oil and blood sticking no matter how hard you scrubbed at it.

"Helena?" She cried out, again and again. Dad took me by the hand and pulled me towards her bed. "Blame yourself," she told me.

I can feel the heat. "Blame yourself." The smoke is thick, I can't breathe.

I could see it, a dream no longer. Body after body, piled by the door. They suffocated before they could see freedom. I reached for their faces trying to place them in a memory. They were pale and smudged with dirt and soot, their arms outstretched towards the door, but I didn't have the key. The doors wouldn't open and I could hear Mom screaming in pain, asking what she had done to deserve it all.

"Please," I choked through the smoke. "I don't want to feel," feel what? "I don't want to feel like this."

"It must be so difficult to be you, having such a burden on your back." Moonbeam strands kissing my palms, cool amongst the flames. He was standing amongst the corpses. He was standing above them. He reached for me. "Blame yourself, Helena."

"Helena?" I shook awake, Kathelyn was standing over me, a look of concern resting on her brow. "You okay?"

I looked around -deep breaths. I reached around for the thin sheets, twisted around my ankles. Nothing was on fire. There was no barn. There was no Mom. I was safe. For now.

"I'm fine."

"Bad dreams?"

"I'm fine, Kathelyn," I scoffed reflexively.

"We have arrived at Costa del Sol," she announced, "might want to get some sunscreen."

She was right. As soon as I set foot on the steps leading up to the deck, the sun blared through the small opening. I slipped off my coat, the warm rays prickling up and down my bare forearms. I was finally in Costa del Sol after so many years living and working in Midgar, and promises of leaving for some much needed time off. It seemed as though everyone but me vacationed in Costa del Sol. I preferred to work, I would tell myself, work myself into a corner where one keeps their liquor, drugs and hard to swallow feelings.

Kathelyn stepped down onto the dock, head swiveling around, eyes darting. "Why are the Shin Ra here?" She pointed to the large cargo ship. The reflective surface of the ship now seemed to suddenly stand out and my heart took a tumble off my ribcage, fluttering in my stomach.

"Probably because Rufus is now president. President Rufus..." Jofrey spat off the dock, into the water, in disgust.

"Rufus?" Nepotism at its finest, however, I was still surprised he finally made it. It pays to wait and let someone kill off your old man. Better than dirtying your hands, eh, Rufus?

"We need to get out of here," Kathelyn whispered directly in my ear, attempting to avoid Jofrey's increasing suspicion.

"Maybe you're right," I stared down Jofrey, his stare unrelenting but whispered nonetheless, "but I'm not leaving. Rufus has always had a disdain for Hojo. I'm not worried."

"Sounds like I should be worried about you," Jofrey crossed his arms tightly around his broad chest, seemingly frustrated. "I don't ferry around terrorists."

Kathelyn's shoulders tensed at the word. I approached him with a cockiness I never thought I possessed. He continued to stare me down, eyes sharply focused onto mine. "There's no need to worry about us. Not if I have the money, right?" I taunted.

"Hmph, depends how much, I guess." He spat again -a terrible habit.

"Let's just find somewhere to sleep for the night," Kathelyn interjected.

"Fine," Jofrey snapped, "I need to catch up on sleep before I head back with my money."

Kathelyn went on and on about how Jofrey was not worth the trouble nor the money, shaking her finger in his face, but I had to disagree. He took us to Costa del Sol in one piece. He did exactly as he said he would and I had to thank him for that. But I didn't. I was too busy eyeing a gathering of Shin Ra security people -a haunting sight. They were obnoxiously discussing their luck: they were in Costa del Sol, the land of sun and beautiful women. Their discussion took a striking turn when one of them lamented on how Rufus was now president.

"Did you hear about the attack on HQ, though?" One of them said, now in a hush but still audible.

"I heard it was Avalanche."

"Well I heard it was Sephiroth." The name salient in my mind, quickly retrieving a memory. No, he was dead. They told me he was dead. I was sure he was dead.

"Hey," Kathelyn tore me away from old memories and fleeting commiserations, "the hotel has a room left." How long had I been standing on the dock like that? How long was I away from Kathelyn. I looked around and I was the only one standing on the dock, the sun nestling in the buildings.

"What does the news say about Sephiroth?" I had to know. I know what Hojo said, sickeningly pleased by his findings. Which I found to be strange. He was clear and enunciated his words, taking notes on my reaction. I was in-between micro-sleeps, wrapped up in a warm blanket of sweet dreams, dreams that terrified but felt very much like home. I just took note, like a good research assistant.

Kathelyn seemed to understand my question, her eyes softened. "They say he died on a mission."

"How?"

"Not sure. I think they were particularly vague on that for a reason."

I needed to be certain. No great procession for you, old friend, just a quick mention on the news, the news that would be so generous in their portrayal of you, forgetting the atrocities of war. I knew how you loathed it, the way people watched you because they were so certain you wouldn't fail. Until you did, and then you became some hit piece on the integrity of your character; infallible until you were just like everyone else: mortal.

I'm particularly nostalgic and I'm not sure how to stop. It feels nice to remember a childhood in which I wasn't alone. Conceivably, I hate Kathelyn. I hate what she did and who she is, totting me around so that she can feel absolved. I remember a small framed child, diving his nose into a book twice his size, avoiding the running children around him. I was distinctly attracted to his silver hair, pooled onto his shoulders. They equally avoided him for that very same reason -he wasn't like them, in every sense. I remember we would take turns with an orange crayon and then a yellow and blue, drawing a sunset sky. I remember telling you how the sun would set over the mountains of Junon with deeper oranges and brighter yellows.

But I never saw a sunset like this, old friend. When the bustle of Costa del Sol moved to the beach, and after we settled in our room, Kathelyn took me by the arm and we waiting for the sun to take its nightly decent. I couldn't understand why we were so drawn to something that happened every night until one day the sun ceased to exist, overtaken by the thick polluted clouds of Midgar. The Costa del Sol sunset was nothing like I remembered -the perfect mix of bitter and sweet. I rolled up my pants and walked into the sea, feet sinking in the wet sand. This was the sunset I wanted to show you, the one that never existed in Midgar, the one you were deprived of seeing.

"It's really beautiful, isn't it?" Kathelyn approached me, fingers tapping lightly on my arm.

"It's what I needed to see. I guess to prove it still exists. In Midgar, you don't see these things often," I laughed. Kathelyn's face fell. "I'm just joking. Of course it exists. I remember it." I collapsed, knees soaked. "I remember it all."

"Hey!" Kathelyn reached for the nook of my arm, pulling me into her arms. "It's okay," she soothed, patting my back gently.

"I'm so sorry," I sobbed, unsure it would ever stop. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything, I wanted to tell him but he was gone and I am here.

A/N: Thanks to those who are reading! I would love to hear what you think. I want to try and make this as good as I possibly can.